"abide" poems
The English vice,
Some Etonian curse –
Set down in grass
And purple verse,
Lavatory bred
With ransacked blood,
Skin slapping and
With a falling thud –
Takes boys at childhood,
Wishes them away,
With promises of popper fuelled buffets,
And poisons them with
Vice and virus red,
And sees them unmarried
Giving head.
I don’t regret a single thing I am,
I’ve tried it out
And can’t abide the sham –
I’ll **** men
And make them beg for more,
I’ll scrabble for their love upon the floor,
I’ll love men
And love will love me too,
I’ll love for love’s own sake
And when I’m through
I’ll die and I’ll be thankful that your hate
Never made me beg that I was straight.
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 6:01 PM UTC
Depression is hard to understand. The dictionary naively refers to it as, "feelings of severe despondency and dejection." But what does the dictionary know about depression? I think depression is more complicated than that. But I don't quite know what that consists of. I've been trying to figure it out for months now, and I just can't seem to understand. I don't know what depression is, but I can tell you what it's not.
Depression is not polite. Depression doesn't knock before he barges in. He just lets himself in, unannounced and unexpected, and leaves me gasping for what little air is left in the room.
Depression isn't clean. He doesn't tidy up after he makes a mess. He comes into my life like a hurricane, and leaves me to pick up the crumbled pieces of my rubbled life.
Depression isn't moral. He steals my happiness and kills my spirit. He doesn't abide by any common rules or laws, he makes his own rules and I have to play by them.
Depression isn't popular. The only "friends" he has are his victims. He drags me away from everyone who used to love me, and leaves me isolated in a cold, dark place.
Depression isn't respectful. He claws his way into the lives of so many genuine people and drives them to the brink of insanity. He has no regard for my thoughts or my feelings, stomping all over me until there's nothing decent left to salvage.
Depression isn't creative. He tells you everything as it is and makes you see all of the terrible things poisoning the world. He doesn't sugarcoat the truth, no matter how much it hurts, and he helped me clearly see even my smallest of flaws.
Depression isn't nice. He calls me ugly and tells me I'm worthless. The words he whispers ring in my ears: **** yourself, **** yourself, **** yourself."
It's hard to define depression. It doesn't fit into a small box. I've practically driven myself crazy trying to figure out what it is and why this is happening to me. I don't understand depression, and no matter how hard I try to define it, I always fall short. I don't know if depression can ever be defined. While I try aimlessly to define the undefinable, depression ruthlessly takes advantage of me. I can try as much as I'd like, but I don't define depression, depression defines me.
Mar 2, 2016
Mar 2, 2016 at 7:05 PM UTC
be washed away
(with spoken word inserts
by soulsurvivor)
When I die don't cry for me
In my Father's arms I'll be
The wounds this world
left on my soul
Will all be healed and I'll be whole
Sun and moon will be replaced
By the light of Jesus Face
And I will not be ashamed
For my Savior knows my name.
- chorus -
It don't matter where you bury me
I'll be Home and I'll be FREE
It don't matter where I lay
All my tears be washed away
SS insert -
Persecution I'll expect.
It's not surprising. Folks reject.
Still I LOVE my Lord so dear
I'll forgive and have no fear
Faced with evil on all sides
In the Lord I will abide
No force of hell can remove Thee
It don't matter where you bury me
---
Gold and silver blind the eye
Temporary riches lie
Come and eat from heaven's store
Come and drink and thirst no more
So weep not for me my friend
When my time below does end
For my life belongs to Him
Who will raise the dead again
- chorus -
SS insert -
I will pass. That much is clear.
I'll leave my tabernacle here
Life is short, the time doth fly
So I'll go to kiss the sky
Then I'll know all mysteries
It don't matter where you bury me
A song written by Julie Miller
Performed by Emmy Lou Harris
and Selah (this version is below)
With inserts by SoulSurvivor
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 2:16 PM UTC
rain or shine
i shan’t not decline
the desire to ride
nor indoors abide
Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 10:03 PM UTC
Some People Are ... EVIL ... !!!
Some People Are ... Nice ...
Some People Believe ...
In The Lies They Contrive ...
Black People ... White People ...
Yes ALL TYPES of People ... !!!
Don't Think You're EXEMPT Most People Tell Lies ... !!!
Some People Want TRUTH These People Are Wise ...
These Are The People Who Use Their ... 3rd Eye ...
I'm Sick of These People Whose Lives Are Contrived ...
Like Poets Who Act Like Their Words Breed Insight ...
MAN These Are The People Who Lead A ... FAKE Life ... !!!
Because They Can't Deal With ... What's REALLY INSIDE ...
INSIDE of Their Minds ... INSIDE of Their Hearts ...
See These Are The People Who Fall At The Start ... !!!!!!!!
They STAND By Their PRIDE ...
But Pride We All Know Comes Before A FALL ... !!!
How Many of You Folks Are Playing That Role ... !???!
Let's Go Toe To Toe And See What You Know ...
Because I GUARANTEE ... You'll Be A NO SHOW ... !!!
See They ... Like To Deride ...
Their Comments Are Snide ... !!!
MAN These Are The People I CANNOT ABIDE ... !!!!!!!!
They TALK A Good Game But Have NO **** SHAME ... !!!!!
Because These Are The People Who DON'T Deal With Pain ...
They Pass YOU The Rope ...
And Then Say ... " TAKE THE STRAIN " ... !!!
See These Are The People Who Need Their Blood DRAINED ... !!!
They ARE The Bloodsuckers Who STEAL From The Sane ... !!!
They TALK About TRUTH But Soon HIT The Roof ... !!!
When Truth Is Thrown At Them They're QUICK To ABUSE ... !!!
"I'll issue court action, I want a Retraction !" ...
Well Here Is My View ...
These People Are FOOLS ....
Who've Got Some Screws LOOSE !!!!!
Deal With YOUR ISSUES I've Been In Courtrooms ...
Don't EVER ASSUME I'm An IGNORANT **** ... !!!!!!
This ISN'T ... Pulp Fiction ... !!!
Don't Think I'm ... The Shepherd ...
I'm NOT Samuel Jackson I'm Ready For Action ... !!!
You Will Be Collapsing When I Start Reacting ... !!!
Don't EVER Presume I'm Into ... Play Acting ... !!!
I'll Leave That To You And Your Idiot Crew ... !!!
Cos' These Are The People Who Don't Give You Clues ...
Cos These Are The People Who Simply Aren't TRUE ... !!!
They Like Their Doors OPEN ...
So They Can Walk Through ...
MAN These Are The People ...
Who Walk In ... DEAD SHOES ... !!!
Now I'm NOT Making Threats ... !!!
But On THIS ... You Can Bet ... !!!
Messing With Me ...
Means You're Messing With DEATH ... !!!
Cos' I'm Ready And Willing To Take Your LAST Breath ...
Cos' People Like You Are ... Humanity's DREGS ... !!!!!
But Enough About THEM ... Society's Phlegm ... !!!!!!!!!!!!
Some People ARE NICE These People I Like ... !!!
Cos' Some of These People Do Use The Mic RIGHT ... !!!!!
They Talk About Things That Affect Peoples' Lives ...
Without EVER Thinking Their Wordplay ... DELIGHTS ...
These People Are Humble And SHUN Foolish Pride ... !!!
Cos' These Are The People ... Who Look DEEP INSIDE ...
INSIDE of THEMSELVES And Find Love of The SELF ...
Cos' Love of The Self Can Preserve Mental Health ...
And Help You To Deal With ... DUD Cards You Get Dealt ... !!!!!
These Words Are ........ HEARTFELT ........ !!!
Good People DO HELP ...
WITHOUT EVER Thinking of Helping THEMSELVES ... !!!
Good People Are VITAL For Human Survival ... !!!!
This Is Now The Reason I Do These Recitals ...
I'm Trying To Put .....
Something GOOD In The CYCLE ... !!!
The ... Cycle of Life .....
That Has MANY Good People ... !!!
But TOO MANY People Are Now Doing EVIL ... !!!!!!
Which Is Why I'm Relating My Views About ...........
......... " People " .........
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 4:31 PM UTC
The woman in the window
Looks out beyond the glass
Beyond the reach of her whispers
Befogged upon windowpanes glance
Farther than the bounds
Her own breathe imbues
Out of reach her long fingered touch
Tracing her murmurs on looking glass dew
Grasping for the shadowed artifacts
Only time does nonchalantly drift past
Perched alone upon a cloud of silence
Her thoughts eddy in soundless swirl
Spinning like dizzying shadows
Swallowed by a thirst for light
The other side of window beckons
Only she knows she’s looking out through a sigh;
Seeing no one familiar looking back ―
For what hidden jewels within abide
She dreams of dancing leafless by daylight
Twirling beneath the whispering willows sway
Just a step away from being free
Just a step away from feeling alive
With first step beyond imprisoning hesitation
Crossing over the threshold of a dream
Through a liberating portal outside the glass
Just on the other side of the windowsill ...
Jesse e Stillwater
Apr 13, 2018
Apr 13, 2018 at 3:34 PM UTC
He often would ask us
That, when he died,
After playing so many
To their last rest,
If out of us any
Should here abide,
And it would not task us,
We would with our lutes
Play over him
By his grave-brim
The psalm he liked best—
The one whose sense suits
“Mount Ephraim”—
And perhaps we should seem
To him, in Death’s dream,
Like the seraphim.
As soon as I knew
That his spirit was gone
I thought this his due,
And spoke thereupon.
“I think”, said the vicar,
“A read service quicker
Than viols out-of-doors
In these frosts and hoars.
That old-fashioned way
Requires a fine day,
And it seems to me
It had better not be.”
Hence, that afternoon,
Though never knew he
That his wish could not be,
To get through it faster
They buried the master
Without any tune.
But ’twas said that, when
At the dead of next night
The vicar looked out,
There struck on his ken
Thronged roundabout,
Where the frost was graying
The headstoned grass,
A band all in white
Like the saints in church-glass,
Singing and playing
The ancient stave
By the choirmaster’s grave.
Such the tenor man told
When he had grown old.
12.7k
*May dreams attend
The Sandman's watch
with happiness and bliss
And may those dreams be soothing
as the lightest fairy's kiss.
May evil tidings yet abide
in cells you've buried deep.
Let not the rumors
of their shadows ere
disturb thy sleep.
Put aside your cares and woes,
and for this night abide,
where azure waves
lap silver shores
and hopes drift
with the tide.
And so, goodnight.
I wish thee well
and when you next arise
let nothing stop
thy happiness
beneath the pastel skies.*
Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 12:07 AM UTC
I eat my rice with birds and mice
I treat my nice with turds and lice
I drink my wine with pigs and swine
I write my words with prose and rhyme
I swing my club with strength and pride
I take my steps with prance and stride
I show you all now what's inside
These words I trust; I will abide.
Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 12:04 PM UTC
I know not of the love of a benevolent God;
The power to save a fallen son.
I only know of the love that I have,
For I am my brother's keeper.
A brother is a friend given by nature,
A lifetime companion; A bond of blood.
He is my first hero; He is my first friend.
He will always be my brother until the very end.
Brothers in blood share more than just blood.
They share the experience of being a son.
They share the same rules that they learned to abide,
And a sense of belonging that cannot be denied.
A brother is a person; he is his own man.
He makes his mistakes; like every man makes.
He's taught me great lessons which outshine pain.
That's why I love him for his own sake.
What brother's seek together, they will surely will find.
I am the voice that will always remind.
I am the hand that leads when he's blind.
For a brother never leaves his brother behind.
Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 6:56 AM UTC
Heaven is surely here,
hidden within the
heart of man as love.
This is heaven
that I feel within.
Pure bliss
it is definitely.
My whole being
resonates to it.
I am grateful
for this moment
in time.
Filled with
unimaginable love,
A love that sheds
a joyous tears.
Sacred and pure,
it is here to
keep and hallow me.
A love that
forgives and forgets,
a love that
remember nothing
but just to please
and love deeply.
A love that
counts no errors,
but enfolds and
comforts you.
No guilt or deceit
can ever penetrate it.
Though sometimes painful,
it heals without a scar.
Weighed on a scale of
divine purity,
it binds the heart
with joyful tenderness
and sets it free.
This love
doesn't criticize,
it admonish
with compassion,
not confusion.
That life you
wanted so much,
is in your heart,
it will sprout to bring
glory to your soul.
Never minding what
you see or feel.
If it finds you worthy
will rest and abide
in you forever.
Cherish this
moment always
for you may never
have it back ever.
©2018,Emeka Mokeme. All Rights Reserved.
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 12:20 PM UTC
Haughty Sphinx, whose amber eyes
Hold the secrets of the skies,
As thou ripplest in thy grace,
Round the chairs and chimney-place,
Scorn on thy patrician face:
Rise not harsh, nor use thy claws
On the hand that gives applause—
Good-will only doth abide
In these lines at Christmastide!
9.4k
*There is a place that I go
that exists within my mind.
And when I'm feeling troubled,
I can leave this world behind.
On wings of gossamer
I'll sail in airships made of mist
to sparkling shores of diamond dust
the golden sun has kissed.
There are unicorns with silver horns
and friendly dragons too.
There's griffins, fauns and centaurs
why, it's heaven's petting zoo.
The rain falls gently on my face
from tears the angels shed.
And blessings from The Father fall
like leaves on every head.
I'll swim in lakes of lavender
and also float upon my back.
to see a glittering rainbow there
with no colors does it lack.
There is no evil in this place
no envy, pride or hate.
For if I wish admission there,
I check them at the gate.
I'm kin to every heartbeat
and a soul mate to each star.
And I'm never lost or scared
for He's never very far.
And everyone is family there
the humans and the beasts.
There is no **********
There's no "greatest" and no "least".
Someday, I'll find thy solitude
and there I shall abide.
And I'll join the souls
that I have missed
upon thy mystic tide.*
Aug 2, 2017
Aug 2, 2017 at 10:13 AM UTC
732
She rose to His Requirement—dropt
The Playthings of Her Life
To take the honorable Work
Of Woman, and of Wife—
If ought She missed in Her new Day,
Of Amplitude, or Awe—
Or first Prospective—Or the Gold
In using, wear away,
It lay unmentioned—as the Sea
Develop Pearl, and ****
But only to Himself—be known
The Fathoms they abide—
8.7k
Distressed tears trickle down a face soiled with dolor
Flooding a pillow with painful memories
drowning every being of hope
Swallowing love in a black hole
Only to be thrown back up
As a wreckage of confused emotion
A sponge soaking up all my ambition
Leaving pessimistic thoughts to fill the cold void where there is only an echo of happiness
My already cracked spirits are fatigued
Sharply cutting through my mind where affection is suffocated
And lust is left gasping for air
My insecurities seek acceptance
Confiding in the cushion that holds every tear
It welcomes my troubles
And shuns my dreams
I am a lost soul
If only I could abide behind a fortress that protects my heart
only then will my tears cease
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 11:57 PM UTC
All from you, every last shred
of my natural state, the tendencies by which I’m led
How can one say to another,
“You’re odd and make me uncomfortable... so I won’t love you brother.”
I won’t strive to understand or with your differences sympathize
or turn my judging lens toward my inside.
For you have a large speck deep in your eye,
and good thing I’m here to judge and criticize,
for your weaknesses bother me,
and I expect from you better,
I’m here to dot your vowels
and make sure you cross your letters.”
What do you have that has not been given you,
from our dear King Jesus above?
Oh Lord help us treasure You more than ourselves,
and abide in Your sweet and unconditional love.
Aug 18, 2010
Aug 18, 2010 at 5:02 PM UTC
There is no moral code
When time is an icy road
Where you cannot stop
Or you'll be stuck in the cold ground
When the temperature drops
Snow collects in my frosty frown
And starts to linger
On my frostbite fingers
While I keep sliding
On the line we're riding
I see icy roads
Leading to icy modes
Of acting
Impacting
The way we treat each other
The same way we beat each other
To the finish line
Of our frigid time
Time isn't nice
When it's ice
But it's all we know
Time continually goes
The challenges grow
Buried in snow
Trying to go uphill is a nasty nope
Sliding downhill is a slippery slope
If you momentarily lose your control
You're pulled over by the cops on patrol
Everything is covered in snow
Even the cars being towed
Their owners gave away their agency
And are at the tow truck driver's mercy
They rely on him to get them to safety
So they cunningly wear his jersey
There are things we want
Acquired by tease and taunt
We drive on top of bodies
To gain traction on the street
We do what is naughty
To have enough to eat
I careen through time
Without seeing a dime
Everything looks so plain
In this frozen rain
When the ordinary life
Is within my sight
I look for something more
Only to see a frozen door
There is ice on the road
There is ice in my heart
I can't handle the load
In the back of my cart
Until I decide
To abide
By the slide
And glide
On the edge of control and freedom
There are other cars and I'll lead them
Jan 17, 2018
Jan 17, 2018 at 2:03 AM UTC
What does it mean to be a Chicano/Latino in the US?
What does it mean to be Black in the US?
What does it mean to be a minority in the States?
You know what that means...it means that we have a lot to prove
As in the words of Booker T. Washington:
"When a white boy undertakes a task,
it is taken for granted that he will succeed.
On the other hand, people are usually surprised
If the ***** boy does not fail. In a word, the ***** youth
starts out with the presumption against him."
Now in a society where institutionalized racism,
Or racism without racists, prevails
We are disenfranchised from even being considered youth.
We are a bunch of wetbacks, idiots, moron...you name it,
Where failure is expected of us...
...but enough is enough, we should not abide to the stereotypes
And stigmas that society stamps on our foreheads.
As a matter of fact, I do not ever recall giving this white patriarchal society
My blessing to call me whatever the **** it decides to call me.
We are here to take manners into our own hands, here to do whatever the heck our heart desires.
We are here to create the change that we wish to see in the world.
We are here to become the few & growing positive statistics that we fight for.
We are here to create voice and shed the light on those wins that we take to our hearts.
No one is here here to reflect the stereotype that this ****** up society
Tries to slap us with on an everyday basis.
We are here to change perception of who we are and where we stand in society.
We are positive statistics...not a stereotype.
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 3:10 AM UTC
Suppress your thoughts
Suppress your feelings
Suppress anything that doesn’t fit
Society society
Hear their rules
Abide by their dictatorship
Long for more
Yearn for pleasure
Learn to live
Society society
Hear their rules
Abide by their dictatorship
No feelings are right
Individuality is contrite
Burn that heart
It has no place
Society. Society.
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 11:37 PM UTC
The entitled ones:
Snotty, stuck up, rude
Nasty, spoiled prudes
Your misery, their fun
Loosen up your buns, entitled ones
‘Cause I am in no mood
To harbor your attitude
And snooty snippy sayings sung
The desk between us that which divides
Does not right you to be snide
Entitled ones need not apply
Entitled are entitled nigh
The ones who earn entitlement
Are the ones who give respect
Possessors of this enlightenment
Such respect is what they’ll get
Treat your servers as you will with such level of pomposity
But understand that I abide by way of reciprocity
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 10:16 PM UTC
like a good poet, I whine and whinny:
the muses are unreliable, get too much paid vacation,
unlimited unpaid, and pretend their cells are out of range,
even when they are in bed with you and you’re near desperate
to cop a feel of inspiration
my problem is a variation on the theme. Everyday I jot down
too many possibilities, a handful of words added to the list of
pound bound childless titles, sad faced orphans, dogs and cats,
squeaking “pick me, pick me,”
our reply a casual
“you on the list” rather than admit they are titled, but bodiless
until cupid smashes a cupcake in my face and the bell rings
there they stand - at a friendless crossroads - direction home,
path unknown, awaiting a poet tour guide to complete them
if this sounds a bit like a bad achy breaky country song,
then you and I, on the same side of where I could be headed
cause at the friendless crossroads, always unsure, left foot first? that first line, first step, could be a false messiah,
or a free-at-last, a free-at-last emancipation
but there are no sidelines in a forest there no sidelines in a poet’s mind; there are the minefields of mindfulness that can explore explode and explain why it is tempting to believe that every gifted one deserves a break today
but you cannot be broken or break off from the community
“Hillel said: Do not separate yourself from the community; and do not trust in yourself until the day of your death. Do not judge your fellow until you are in his place. Do not say something that cannot be understood but will be understood in the end. Say not: When I have time I will study because you may never have the time”
my friend,
substitute writing poetry for study, for study is for us the analysis of everything, that is, everything we say, see and know the need to communicate
so
those who abide in the life of good words will not suffer an abdication (yours)
do not think
there are friendless crossroads,
there are only crossroads that the eye cannot yet see a fellow sojourner coming toward him,
bearing an oversized load of
the inside insight of responsibility
that demands sharing
that is why we call our meetings at
a crossroads,
a cross
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 10:21 AM UTC
A satellite is watching its ants,
Broadcasting the pixelated sins of your fathers,
Just
like
snow
Go on sew,
Sew your seams little one,
All this humanism is bound to bust when you all find yourselves-
Eating cotton
Turn on the television,
I am naked,
I need to hide,
Turn off the lights,
I need darkness,
To abide,
And Babylon is seeping through the screens,
Demean us all,
Demean us all,
As long as I can be seen,
Demean me please,
Ease the curse of this vulnerability,
How do I survive on this tilted planet?
What's the use of living,
If I'm not alive?
Was man meant for this?
All these cages,
My job my house my car my body,
Is anybody conscience of this missing bliss of life?
Who can see,
All
the
nakedness
like
me
The world washes over our bodies
The world washes over our bodies
The world washes over our bodies
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 10:14 PM UTC
The river forks at big stone eddy
rending currents meandering course,
its silence speaks not with forked tongue
as kismet's swirling eddies abide
as if time immemorial;
a river naturally cleaved
in two separate distinct directions
befallen destiny without a choice
Spinning round and round in big stone eddy,
time just drifting by in the throes
of doubt — high water rising
beyond the bounds of earth
taking drowning souls up to the sky
Choking on a mouthful of unanswered questions,
suffocating on the parting words left unsaid;
distilling life into poetry hew from being —
trickling out like the spilled out sky —
taken down to the empty riverbed
leave lay' til it's all washed away,
in the music of the pourin' down rain
Freedom embodies metaphysical incarnations
riding the prevailing currents it can't control
Gravity-gathered down to the shoreline,
manifest reclamation after the deluge,
from somewhere far above the high-water mark
Swallowed by all the darkness woe betides,
thinking you carry such a weight to hold...
It seems all got a handful of sand to toss
up into the wind to seed the clouds
The totality of eclipsing silence grows
that rent the stillness of a dream
of peace on an eroding shoreline
In an Eddy of Expectations & Disappointment
dark waters will ebb and flow,
imponderable as drowning hope,
leaving it all out there to dry after the rain
believing in your heart —
the best is yet to come
Jesse Stillwater ... November 2018
Nov 24, 2018
Nov 24, 2018 at 12:09 PM UTC
Depression is oppression.
It's a deadly hidden message
Defined by self-hate.
It seals its prisoner's fate.
It holds you captive and throws out the key.
It stabs and jabs just to see you bleed,
Inflicting wounds that scar for life.
Destruction is its mother and death its wife.
You can cry, but it will always ignore your screams.
It terrorizes your soul and haunts your dreams.
It sends you false hope through a bottle or pill.
It destroys your goals and inflicts its will.
You can't run, nor can you hide.
By its rules you will abide
Until it celebrates that you have died.
Open your eyes, or you will be its prey.
It will blur your vision in the most twisted way.
It will seek your destruction and call for your head.
You will lie and wait but never rest in your bed.
Peace will come to those who want peace,
But as long as you feed him, you will see the beast.
You can't run, nor can you hide,
But if you conquer the beast, you will survive.
Prayer and hope can lead the way.
Cling on to every word you pray.
Hope is in truth.
Hate is in lies.
Pray for your soul and open your eyes.
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 12:49 PM UTC