Be ever so polite, if ya want to impress a gals, Ma and Pa
Park outback for a while, smokin’ n swiggin’ in the back of ones car
Get yourselves tipsy, during prohibition, down in Mississippi
Turn up, keep close, never tell that you entered a speakeasy
If ya dance, ya gotta chance
So don’t be shy now, ask that gal, she could be your true romance
Or be a drunk in the corner, eyeing off, what ya didn’t work for
Then gettin’ popped in the skull, that’ll teach ya, for being so dull

So live it up at the *****, held at your suburban town hall
It comes about but once a month, so come along y’all
There’s slicked back hair, gin n tonic in the air, everywhere
Gents combing over the scene, watching bluebirds add their flair
Gals in cubicles, gossiping while reapplying their glam mask
And inserting the correct coin into the right slot, oh what a task

Then if you’ve caught the eye of a white dove
You’ll drive her home, if it fits like a glove
Plant a seed or scatter them all, along the belly of the mountain peaks,
It could end up being a wonderful life, married to a wife that every man seeks
I will try my best, a promise I made myself, within my four walls
While learning to dance with myself in the mirror, I’ll have my chance, if I ever find the **** *****.

I can never be the sea in your dreams.
A vastness of life, crushing your peace
as you turn and you toss like the waves
you so long for.

I can never be the mist in your forest.
Never the cooling of your breeze, or the
hush as the grass blows, or the leaves
flit about like elven children at play.

I can never be the wish on your tongue.
A hope come undone. A shackle which
lays waste to your mind, and sullies the
love you hold for the world

I can never be the need in your voice.
A trembling word. A formless sound,
driven to hold onto desperate redemption,
as you scour you soul and your sight.

I can never be the Muse in your core.
As you flay your own skin with words
which will forever be undone by the
barrenness which follows.

I can never be the twin of your soul.
Though we two are connected, by a smile
or a song. We will never be one soul. We will never belong to each other.

I can never be the love you long for...

Today I hoped to achieve something great,
Something many would consider a heroic trait,
Giving plasma to those in need,
With the hope that the doctor's treatments would succeed.

Taking me back after a two hour wait,
I realized there were things which they needed to set straight,
For while I appeared as well as could be,
There was my underlying problem of epilepsy.

I suspected beforehand what I was to be told,
All things considered I kept myself controlled,
For even though I'd have to wait 3 years,
I realized that I had no great fears.

As I refused to be distressed,
For I knew that I'd done my best,
I knew what seemed like a setback to some
Was still a chance of a lifetime to come.

So I'll continue to help those in anyway open to me,
Until that path can at last be seen,
My chance will come again someday,
So I refuse to let such enthusiasm fade away.

  
                         ~What people think~




Sarah Gosa - I wondered while I was reading if it was the medication or the condition of epilepsy that kept you from being able to donate your plasma and what is the significance of three years. Enjoyed the voice of someone wanting to help out in their community. There are other ways to be of public service if this is not a good fit for you. It is defeating when we want to help but for some reason we can't. I had epilepsy as a child and have also donated my blood in the past so I could relate to the feelings in your poem. The last time I donated blood they separated the platelets out and pumped saline back into my veins, if I remember correctly. I hope you find an enjoyable way to spend your time. Thank you so much for sharing your poem with me.


Noble Knight - Epilepsy there is a subject I know to well grand poem amazing job


ALW89 - I really enjoyed this. Your tone went from excited to give yourself to others, then you showed your defeat. Seemingly having an illness like epilepsy can be an internal set back, since you appear well on the outside. Your writing showcased that and the poem ended with hope and put a nice spin on the defeat. Being in the medical profession I was really inspired by this.

Inspired me.

From beyond
The horizon of darkness
A child
Holding a battered flag
Etched into
His ideals
What he chooses to believe in
Despite all
The injured near him
Just a kid...
How can he keep going?
The innocence of hope
Perseverance
The last thing his family left him
And he's just a kid.

Shot
Bruised
Sliced
Broken
I refuse to give in
To my limits
I wish to go beyond them
Mom
Dad
Thanks for believing in me
You're why I proclaim
To this day
I am still a hero
Good and evil vary
But a hero...
Always saves the day
I can't be the one...
...To change that!

You plant unreachable images in my head
Willing me to paint
My hands though they work they wither
Much like heavens notions taint
Though I strive I’ll never reach you
For your face is much too great
Vast with perfection
And I think I’ve grasped a taste
Yet I’m farther than where I’ve been
For you have turned your face
My hands dance with fervor
Across this painted page
Flicking ideals far and wide
Desperate  to meet you
Hungry  to be lifted high
Alas my brush has found you
Then you shift your gaze
Revealing a new angle
And once  again my fingers race

Don't let the worry fade ur smile away.
Don't let the guilt nor fear take your pride away
Stand firm
Strong and brave ready to fight like you were born to be.
Stand to always be a warrior