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AS Jul 16
Life is not free,
it comes with a cost just to breathe.
The expectations not to be emplaced on the seed.
Judged for how they choose lead.
Punished for how they believe and chose to breed.
Marked and abandoned,
for choosing to see and to move away,
to reject disgusting displays.
To be shown disdain for following their own way.
Blamed when they choose not to stay the same.
Cost of the invisible chain,
placed on the terrain of birth.
Dependent to the pain,
to the mother who reined.
Tossed away when finally mirrored the destructive game,
patience snapped and apologised for the same way the birth-maid acts.
Distanced to detach,
to move away from the shame.
A promise made when a little babe,
to never be the same.
Shocked on the way,
they pushed patience down the drain.
Enacted by refusal to be the slave,
to take the blame and defend the endless plague you enrage.
Expected to be thankful,
guilted to stay in line.
Manipulated every time they attempt to  fly.
Co-dependently wrapped,
to give meaning the way in which your life lacked.
An ear to smear all your hate,
fear and tsunami tears.
Flooded in your pain,
you  the victim and to take no blame.
Born a parent in the early days,
cleaning and protecting you from the dirt you spurt.
From the countless monsters in which you learnt.
Sadness,
that you ever witnessed that level of madness.
Not to be kept to your past tense,
to swallow and drain with your inner hallow.
To clip their wings,
as for only you they can sing.
To demand,
offended when the glove is on the other hand.
To not poison others land or be offended when they flee.
When the hunger to find serene,
suck dry for too long.
Came to a point,
grief hidden within the earthly core finally exploded.
No longer naive,
willing to adore or ignore.
Needing to breathe,
to speak,
to burst out what has been hidden underneath.
To truly breathe,
to find reprieve.
To heal from the demons which deceived.
To unfreeze the mind,
from all the other monsters you missed slip by.
Not to be told that I lied,
because it breaks your god damn pride.
Not to be hissed at or dismissed,
for what you missed.
Life has been,
was what I owed,
for being brought up and given food.
The basics to accept the rudeness and being clueless.
Don't give birth if your child does not come first,
don't let them bleed to feed your own needs.
Recognise they're a child,
not a friend to take care after you've gone wild.
Not to be confined in places they seem wise.
A child is a gift,
not someone to heavy lift.
Not to manage your whims.
As a child do not owe,
no entitlement to treat them low.
Rid of your countless rules,
the one's incredibly cruel.
Those only practised by the few,
the ones who spread the blue,
to those who surround.
Unable to find stable ground.
Life should be free,
in this way you see,
it cannot not be.
Children deserve to breathe,
not to have them mentally disciplined onto their knees.


© 2018

Abigail Sheard
Poetry is my release, a place to reveal and heal.

I am very lucky that my anxiety and depression no longer fully control me, it has taken a lot of hard work though to get to this point.
i used to climb the tallest tree
just to leave behind the ground
sing as loud as i could breathe
about the shapes of passing clouds

mum would haller up to the heavens:
             "STOP IT !"
... "they’ll think you’re Mad!"

... whoever  "they"   were  (?)!
    i naively pondered thence  ―

    now,     the tree is gone,
       "they" chopped  it  
         all the way down
to memories and decomposing roots

    but i still see life unspool
    in the silent shapes of clouds

                    and
  hear the birds sing sweetly
     without a single word


☁  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☼  ☁  ☁  ☁  ☁
                   jesse
26th  April  2018

Notes:
  the memories reach much deeper than the roots
When forced to use the public loo,
there's something you must always do:
before you sit to do your biz,
make sure there toilet tissue is.
Travelers wisdom....
Atul Sep 2017
You ask me a query,
You ask, "Where Are You, Honey?"

I have an answer for you,
I say, "I'm inside your heart, honey."

You let it extend, your doubt,
You implore, "But why is it so hazy?"

I fire a cracker in response,
I say, "It's hazy because you're lazy!"

You smile but get perplexed by now,
You ask, "Will you stay if moving on I fail to?"

I am mature and couth,
I say, "I find no reason good enough to not to."

You wonder to yourself,
You ask, "Where from I got you?"

I remind you that I came back,
I say, "I consider it my responsibility to imbue your life with the brightness,
The light lacking in your life,
And to provide you with warmth,
So that you are free from your shivers,
And so that you can be my wife,
I want to fill that void in your day,
Maybe I was sent back only for you,
On your mother's recommendation,
And so wise was her receptivity,
I know that I am a man of my words,
Surely I will make it large for us,
And you are such a hardworking lady,
Our children will have it healthy,
And they will surely have it wealthy,
The wealth won't just be material,
But they will be taught fine civility."


You now ask me your final query,
You ask, "Who will be their tutor?"

I smile and simply end this discussion,
I say, "Obviously, me and you."

Even you are satisfied by now,
You smile & say, "I love you, honey."

I hear what I have been longing to,
I say with a broad smile, "I love you too, honey."
∆∆∆∆∆∆∆
Another response to the poem by Pooja Shah: https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2075638/where-are-you-honey/

My HP Poem #1664
©Atul Kaushal
july hearne Jun 2017
when Merry Clayton
sings "Southern Man"
i think of all of you
and i think fuck you

and if i was Neil Young
i would start a band called Hateful Bigot
and Mike Watt would be the bass player
and i would write a song
called "social justice warrior"
(in all lower case)
and dedicate it to all the children that have been raped by the gay mayor of your tiny house town
and Merry Clayton would sing that song

there is a parade in tiny house town
for everyone who's arrived 50 years too late to the civil rights party
and the  mayor is coming round
to shake your hand

all your tiny houses coming down
all your tiny houses built upon the sand
tiny, tiny houses get smaller and smaller before blowing down

everytime you shake his hand
you have even less to say
about all the children he raped
than the NRA

even less to say than the NRA
everytime the gay mayor rolls down the windows
before he rapes the children in his hot car
everytime he's comes around
to shake your hand
he's got ten dollars in his other hand

tiny, tiny houses blowing down
all your tiny houses built upon the sand
i can't wait til they come down
all your tiny houses coming down
tiny, tiny houses coming down

(nothing to do with the fact
he's a gay democrat
nothing to do with the fact)
ed murray is the gay mayor of seattle. he raped children and is likely still raping them. one of them was his foster son. he denies these allegations in the manner of a text book lying child rapist. he lied about ever knowing his foster son who he raped (and who was later then proven to be his foster son). he also had wanted to be a catholic priest but left the seminary (probably got kicked out for child rape).   he was not forced to resign because it is not convenient to ask a gay, democrat mayor to step down, which is why i will always refer to him as the gay mayor who rapes children.  he gets a free pass on raping children. this poem is dedicated to everyone who turns a blind eye to child rape and excuses it (especially cunts like sally bagshaw), and sadly that includes organizations such as glaad.

ed murray, gay mayor of seattle who rapes children, attended the gay pride parade and shook hands with the parade goers, who were delighted to shake the hand of a child rapist. only it's not rape, since he is a gay democrat who gave the children $10 to rape them.

seattle has become unaffordable because of amazon, high levels of taxation (by a city cuntcil who supports a child rapist as mayor and the child raping mayor himself), a housing shortage (caused by amazon and citizens of china who make money on slave labor and then make inflated all cash offers on the real estate here so the people who actually live here can't afford it).

something tells me this one won't go over well, but that's ok with me, since people who turn a blind eye to child rape are the scum of the earth. my next poem will be about what a cunt sally bagshaw is. she loves our gay mayor who has done nothing but lie, flounder around like an idiot, allow amazon and comcast to fuck us over, steal money, waste money, increase homelessness and rape children. ed murray also loves sharia law, since it conveniently has no laws against raping children.

the NRA had better make some sort of public statement of support for philando castile and his family and  should have already done so. that man and his family were not shown any justice and neither were the children that ed murray raped, not to mention the children he is still raping.

we live in bullshit times and the ones screaming the loudest are the ones who need to shut the fuck up the most.


from ed murray's twitter page:

Ed Murray‏Verified account @MayorEdMurray  May 19

It's finally warming up, which is great - but not for all. Beware of the danger pets and children face in hot cars!
PoserPersona Jul 23
He pulled and parked the supply red wagon,
then climbed the mast to the captain's cabin.
Captain Red is ready for adventure.
A quest to collect the world's best treasure.

His pirate crew is renowned far and wide.
They're rough and tough and they don't ever cry.
But none of them boys has the captain's stuff.
So don't mess with him, man, cause he don't bluff.

This motley crew has achieved many feats,
has never suffered a single defeat,
and has seen the most incredible things:
whales, whirlpools, storms, mermaids, krakens and kings.

"Set sail," squaws the boss as he munches lunch
and the Ocean Destroyer leaves port Wunche.
These rolling green hills are now ocean waves.
That blue sky, however, remains the same.
...
"Hey Benjamin!" beams the first mate Susanne.
Impeding the journey that just began.
"We already played this game. It's my turn!"
The first mate trumps the captain, Ben will learn.
...
Her spacesuit crew is renowned far and wide.
They're smart and nice and they don't ever lie.
But none of these girls has commander's stuff.
So don't mess with her, girl, cause she don't bluff.

This brainy crew has achieved many feats,
has never suffered a single defeat,
and has seen the most incredible things:
aliens, black holes, stars, and martian springs.

"Lift off!" beams the boss as she munches lunch
and the Star Chasing Rocket leaves base Wunche.
These rural backyards are now rocky space.
That blue sky, however, remains the same.
...
"Hey Susanne!" beams the pilot Benjamin.
Impeding the flight before it begins.
"We already played this game. It's my turn!"
The pilot trumps commander, Sue will learn.
...
Boys and girls grow up and out the front door.
Those children’s games evolve to adult chores;
those kiddy lawns to grandparent’s domain.
That blue sky, however, remains the same.
Karijinbba Jul 16
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
even called me hybrid race!
the medical database is WRONG  
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.
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