I see it
A change is taking place
The good in all is nowhere
Every life is taken for granted
Memories are strung together
In a lost papier-mâché craft
Gaining dust in a Kindergarten classroom
Where the boys and girls of tomorrow live
In a crazed life filled with
Devices and contraptions
It makes us all feel blue
But we caused it
What we see is what we want
We see what we caused
We kissed the sweet lips of evolution
And it opened its legs to innovation
Save the stress for later
We'll all worry about it another time
When silver bullets are sprouting
In the garden of our beautiful
African-American brothers and sisters
And a disillusioned land of education
Save them from this misery
Such a shame that we gave our best
Now you see it -- our paradise is ******.

Uplift this curse from me,
I don't want to go there anymore,
I want to move forward, live in the now,
My past is not a place to move around and about.

I pinch myself once, nay, twice at least,
I pinch myself everyday,
But the reality stays the same
I'm in the present, in the now
Still my past plays a cruel joke with my life's endless game.

It is another year, a better time
This is my moment to shine
New clothes, new hair, new boy
Still it is the same as last time
My feelings are my life's favourite toy.

I'm not a broken record,
Stop playing me on repeat;
I'm not your favourite song,
Stop singing it on and on;
I want to break this cycle,
I want to move on;
Stop blocking my path,
Let my life go on.

Eventhough he is buried deep,
His memories float on shore and never leave
He poisins my mind, my heart, my every need,
He's dead but he never leaves
He eats at my brain
And lives on in the name
Of present and takes the form
Of anything that matters most to me.

Break this curse at last!
Let me breathe for once!
Untie this knot that binds me to my past!
Let me free at last!

Somehow my life circles back to him
I begin where he ends,
Yet, I end up where I begin
He found a way to live on in another,
His ghost haunts me every night
He is gone, so stay gone!
Don't dare come back in another form!

When shall my troubled mind ease?
When shall I find my peace?
When will that new day begin?
When will I know my life has changed from within?

Small but mighty is the tounge
It gets a lot of use
To us writers it's the PEN
And equal in abuse.

We have a bridle for a horse
Which can turn the beast around
A great ship has a rudder
Small, as it is found.

Thus can tounge and pen be made
The turn, the helm, ye scribes!
It can bless. It can destroy.
IT CAN RUIN LIVES!

What separates the poet
From those people who abuse
Their "God given right to free speech"
This should NOT be news

The difference is quite evident
When you take the facts apart
One uses pens to lacerate

The true poet has a HEART.


SoulSurvivor
(C) 2/24/2016

He held some Romantic notion
His years of love and devotion,
The exposition of emotion
Could overcome the troubles.

He tried to be meta-physical,
Raised his crucible to the celestial,
Prayed to move the unchangeable
To overcome the troubles.

For years he toiled in his realism,
The jobs, debts and persistent requiems,
The slugging burdens of their tediums,
To overcome the troubles.

He was Dada, then Grand-dada.
She was Mama, then Grand-mama.
Once an in-law, now an outlaw,
Yet always there was trouble.

Now he's lost his generation,
Learned the cost of retribution;
Still sourcing out his frustration,
Considering the final solution
For dealing with his troubles.

Marjorie picks up the phone,
She's quite sure that she's alone.
Punches in her "good friend's" number
She's excited! It's no wonder!
Something naughty to convey!
Can't wait to tell! Can't wait to say!
"Hello, Sally? Yeah, it's me!
I'm at the window... guess what I see!
You know that ***** across the way?
She's with another man today!
Hannah's hubby, right next door.
Can you believe that little *****?!!
I'm telling you 'coz I'm your friend
This wicked business has to end!
Wait a minute... there they GO!
They're leaving! I'll bet you know
Where they're headed. Oh, you bet.

A motel room is what they'll get.


Juicy fruit spills from the lips
Open mouth and out it slips
Sweet as strychnine to the tongue
Where the poison apple's hung.
If you've nothing nice to say
We're all ears! Come our way!
There's a tale to be told
Don't matter if yo young or old
It's a secret on the block...

... if it's scandalous, LET'S TALK!!!

Sally John finds her PC.
She has another "friend" you see...
"Hello, Jane? Just talked to Marge,
Got some news, and it is LARGE!
You know that harlot up the street?
You'll never guess her latest meat!
Hannah's hubby! Oh, her ****!
I can't believe this awful biz!
Marge told me, it can't be wrong,
They were KISSING... ON THE LAWN!!!
Then they drove off  in his car...
They weren't going very far
No-Tell Motel's where they're at...
Whatcha expected from an alleycat.
Hannah's gonna flip her lid!

I won't tell, so keep it hid...

-chorus-

The story spread around, of course.
Hannah's filing for divorce.
Then her hubby lost his job...

... as pastor of a CHURCH of GOD.

And the *****? Well. She died.
She committed suicide.

The real story was quite sad,
And I hope it makes you mad.
"Harlot's" son? He needed pills.
Guess no one knew that he was ill.
She wasn't goin' very far...

... and her pastor had a car.

Who's the culprit? Who's to blame?
Guess we all know her name.
Who's to count the tragic cost?
With one stroke two lives were lost!
Her little boy went 'round the bend.
An alcoholic in the end.

The tongue can be a thing of praise
Or ignite a mighty blaze!
So check your heart. Check your mouth.
Make sure that it's not headin' SOUTH.
Kindness is joy in age or youth....

... you reap what you sow and

THAT'S the TRUTH.


SoulSurvivor
Catherine Jarvis
(C) July 5, 2010

People surround the rain washed evidence
whilst cars pull to the side
People attired with obvious decadence
The culprits smiling with pride
Trash littered the up kept lawn
Liquid seeping out of forgotten containers
Companion’s up until the break of dawn
Neighbors labeled the complainer
The yelling of over protective loved ones
A lesson needs to be learned
to stifle a yell, Air fills your lungs
Until the next day when your returned
Remember what you have done
until next time a decision is made
Otherwise they have won
No more of the games you have played

I can remember this moment just as clearly as if it happened an hour ago. there was this one night you texted me, long after you said you'd gone to sleep, and told me you couldn't stop thinking about me. It was early in our relationship, so it made sense, honeymoon phase and whatever. But it still makes me smile so much because it was brilliant, unromantic you staying up into the wee hours of the night thinking of crazy, turbulent me. It was ever so poignant considering how much I disliked myself then and how much I adored you.

You started messaging me with song links and lyrics, clumsily trying to explain why certain lyrics totally fit how you felt about me and only those parts. It was adorable and even now I can close my eyes and picture myself curled up and so in love with this clutzy expression of affection.

The song you kept on talking about, half drunk with exhaustion, was a song called "Always". You quirkily were insisting to ignore the parts of the songs that were negative, and just focus on the parts that talked about always thinking of me and having trouble living without me, or something. It was so late at night and so silly and so incoherent, but I can feel it. I can feel it in my bones, my blunt boyfriend getting all mushy about me.

I know we have some problems right now. I need to stop erupting and blaming my issues on you. You need to stop threatening the end of our relationship when I upset you. I need to give more focus on to bettering our relationship and myself for it. You need to open up again.

But when I can close my eyes and remember the guy who cried over the first poem of mine he read, or the one who couldn't handle seeing me so hurt when you first learned about it, and the one who's so brilliant, who's so determined, and strong, and you, I can't fathom letting that go. Letting you go.

Recently in one of my classes my teacher talked about the mystery of why writers, who sometimes don't like people very much, still talk to a lot of people. I know why I do. People fascinate me, how they think, how they act. And I think I love learning how you think the most. It fascinates me. It may not be my way, and it may not be what I think is best sometimes, but its mesmerizing watching you be you. Watching you do the things you do. Not only do you supplement my emotion-driven, wild, writing ways, but you always inspire them. You inspire me. I never feel a need to be you, but I always feel a need to be better for you, for us, and for me. I always feel a need to grow. Maybe sometimes it kicks my *** when I need to take a breath, but in the end?

I'm going places. I hope to always go places with you.

I know going back doesn't work. I know I don't exactly want me back then either. But I know with you I have moments with you, with me, with US, that always just make me stop, take a breath, and smile with how wonderful to me they look.

You're wonderful, dear. Not perfect, I will kick your cute *** before you start going there, but just right. Just what I need.

I don't really know where I'm going anymore. I just love you. I think I always will.

Always.

Never knew that word would ever make me smile instead of curl up in fear. Well, I guess that's where I'm at, love. Even when its hard. Even when I need you to alter things a bit. Even when you're frustrated with me because I'm not where you want me to be. I may not like you that second, but of course I'll still love you.

I always will.