Look around and see
People who don't have
Everything that they need right now

Then look at the ones
With guns in our schools
Taking others with them in suicide

So just feel free
To sit there in your chair
Doing whatever you could possibly want

Without checking to see
Where your children went
After they told you that they felt depressed

Yes I know this world
Is still messed up
But could it possibly hurt to try
There is a legend
about a bird
which sings just once in its life. more sweetly than any other creature on the face of the earth,

From the moment it leaves
the nest it searches for
a thorn tree,
and it does not rest
until it has found one.

Then singing, among
the savage branches,
it pales itself
upon the sharpest spine.

And dying, it rises
above its own agony
to outcarol the lark
and the nightingale.
One superlative song,
existence the price.

But the whole world stills to listen, and God in His heaven smiles.
for the best is only bought
at the cost of great pain....Or
so says the legend.

This resonates deeply within me
because being an RHO negative
Mother every Gyno MD advised
termination of my unborn
a malicious prejudice  
I saved three of my children
they were born
they live
the loves of my life
Its true with me too the best is only acquired at the price of great pain and sacrifice
If lucky and awake our heart and own intuition will know to aim for the best  Thanks for your time dear poets.
The legend piece is anonymous
but it came to me
and I accepted it as my very own.
Pyrrha 22h
Is it better to have a father who judges you from the moment your eyes open to the moment they shut
Or not to have a father at all?

Is it better to have a husband who makes you out to be a villain to your children
Or to just get a divorce?

To me these questions are a thin line between anger, frustration, saddness, and a bright beautiful life
The answers are obvious
If only they were to everyone else

He walks in the door and carries a storm
For no reason other than he can
Every detail is wrong
Your every joy is his to rebuke
Every second he has something negative to say

Everything about you begins to feel wrong somewhere along the way
Until you no longer love what used to make you smile
Until you can no longer see yourself as you
Rather you see a complete mess of imperfection and expectations you can't meet

It's tiring to hear the fighting
Its sickening to hear the verbal abuse aimed at the children
Its sad when your children long to hear the words 'divorce'
It's repulsive to hear the derogatory words he says to the woman the ring on his finger claims he loves
And theres nothing you can do
Its just as haunting when its aimed toward you

They can't see you are trying your best
When you try harder its still not enough
They are too busy deciding where to place the blame
When you need motivation or inspiration the most
They let you down
They bring you down
You sink when you should float
And its heavy

You know what it is, but when does it end?
I have a very spiteful relationship with my stepfather, I've never thought of writing a poem about it until today.
Pyrrha 23h
They say I am too young to understand the way the world works.
They say it as if I'm not already aware of the wars in foreign lands or violence in our homes.
As if I don't know of the fear of death.
The price of freedom.
The cost of living.

They say it as if I don't know about the shootings or the homicides.
As if I'm unaware of those making a living off of selling poisons to others
Or of the ones who sell themselves to stay alive.
They think I don't know about sex, drugs, death, fear, pain, or life itself.

Nothing is hidden in this world.
Your children grow up knowing about horror and crime.
Its ridiculous to shelter them from what they already know.
You believe they are innocent until they turn 18,
But little girls and boys grow up with pain.
There are no thoughts that you can contain.
They will find answers to the questions even if you dont want them to be found.
I have never understood why people these days are so reserved and offened by the truth. My parents raised me to be informed not to be afraid of the truth or speaking my mind.
I like what I see
In my kids;
Others may say, They're like her's or his;
That's okay, but they don't see
The subtleties revealed to me.

They were listening when I spoke,
And now they hear other folks;
They were watching when I'd act
In sync with our social contracts.
Please and Thanks was our mantra,
Repeated now as personal dogma.

I didn't see they were watching,
Watch they did, and they were copying.
Believe me, I'm not being boastful,
If that's the case, I too am blameful
For anything that causes pain,
Though unintended, it's the same.

I'm so pleased with my kids,
And they aren't just like
Her's or his;
They're mine.
And I like what I see in their kids.

Do you like what you see
In your kids?
It is to be on Winter's Eve,
  a holiday for two.
And how the snow will dance for thee,
  with hair matching to boot.

In both its length and in its sway,
  your strands of golden sun
will radiate our merry days
  and blind out lonely ones.

Wine for now to celebrate what
  will only be two weeks.
Wine again to celebrate, but
  these weeks to be the least!

As feast for two will soon be three
  then four, no five or more!
I cannot wait, a father, me?
  Children of ours be born!

Purpose of life, we shall have; share
  our life's meaning we will.
As us to them and they to theirs,
  we will grow old fulfilled.

Not if but when the snow winds storm,
  of me you'll find no sin.
For coat and drink will lack the warmth
  as family's love within.
Glass trees

Princess pajamas, tippy toes,
an ice scientist smiled from her window.
"You are beautiful" she whispered
I watched silently from the doorway.

The ice scientist kissed her friends goodnight,
Then giggled at her sloppy lipstick stain.
soon, a flurry of more kisses painted the window.
I let out a chuckle.
This jumped  the ice scientist.

"Poophead Dada" she glared at me
Through a face of lipstick kiss smears
"I love you, too" I knelt
took wet cloth to her face.

"Yes, Poophead?"
"What temperature does love freeze?"
We stared at each other.
Her blue eyes sparkled with a single blink.
I did not expect this question.
nor did I expect,
the extent to which
we would find the answer.
Children of these days
They're in big dismay
Their attitude, degrade
Their lifestyle is fake
Their value in my eye seems depreciate
They're such a big disgrace

Children of these days
Can't walk without dancing
Just a slight rhythm; and they'll start bouncing
Devilish music; devilish words gat more liking

Children of these days
Their behaviour makes me sad
They would even say 'Hi' to their dad
That's really bad
An act of being  Retard

Children of these days
They're so decietful
They won't even greet you

Children of these days
are so mono
They're less gospel and more solo
Surfing the internet; looking for free porno
Man; this logo you have is real loco

Children of these days
Their ways are odds
And they spit missiles of words
They don't want to stain their boot with dirt
But they forgot they're firstly designed from mud

Children of these days have big mouth
They are too proud
They're much of meriment; they're too loud

Children of these days
Should watch out for hollow
They'll say "we are the leaders of tommorrow"
But they do not know
The path to success is narrow

Children of these; I pity
For they think they're pretty
But their style of life is filthy

Children of these days
They post pancaked face on facebook
And ask "How do my face look?"
Ma'am; "you're just a lame snook"
About to get trap in a fish-hook

Children of these days
Don't know their culture
Shoulder 's on; like vulture
That latitude that you walk-on; is not yours
these attitude of yours that you does nurture
Will torture and dis-configure your fine posture
Children of these days
Please take heed
Life is more than that; which you see
So, children of these days; please repent
Before you have a child; you know attitude do reflect
I am never gonna relent
So that my children; that day; won't be bent
I still can't think about that time
that morning...
mid fall, Trump had just gotten elected
I was so full of powerless rage
then that morning...
I learned more about
oxygen levels and pneumonia and sepsis
in 44 days
than I ever wanted to know
I watched you in that drug induced sleep
for 44 days
critical they kept saying
doctors surprised that I was comforted
by all the information they gave
that I asked for
that I needed
You were 11
You'd been a butterfly for Halloween
I slept on that little couch
for 44 days
I still remember the daily huddle of doctors
and the nurses giving each other what I learned later was “the big eye”
which means, something is happening but we don't want to say anything
I never truly believed you wouldn't come home
that wasn't a thought I could allow in
so I rubbed lotion into your feet and hands
watched that monitor
knew what every number, every blip, meant
played cartoons for you while you slept and slept
Tinkerbell, even though that wasn't something you'd watched at home

You say you remember Tinkerbell
worst 44 days of my life.
Heavenly beings.

Eternal in Heaven.
The day is warm, but the air is cool,
As I sit here watching an angel, who is sat upon a toadstool.
She plays the harp and whispers a song
And all around, children and their families are sat listening in silence.
They are loved; each and every one.

She is beauty in this place of peace;
Her blonde hair gently blows in the breeze.
Blue butterflies hover all around her.
The sun is shining on us all as she plays her harp
And softly she sings her words into the air.

Tiny gnomes march past and the children glance up and smile,
At the unicorn that accompanies the gnomes, as they walk on by.
They are heading off to see God and the angels inside;
While we sit here on the outside, in the morning light.

I decide to go with them and leave the music behind;
I have a job to do, so I must do it, but I can do it in my own time.
You see, I am a poet and this allows me to be free,
Of those things which hold other people trapped;
Those things like obligations and duty.

(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
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