"mentored" poems
How Sweetingly Rare to see this Advise,
The Westfold Bard who shares this Ancient Art
But Performed it Better to his Concise
And took Definition for his Good Part
I just knew you now. So what of belate
As Mentored Dolphins with Water's Tie befriend
I found this Artist; This Cornerstone Great
And Hope your Elder's Tongue will never end
You, Sir, confirmed my Efforts; This I Bow
And hand you the Medal I sought to seek
I am no Patron; Neither plan so now
Only the Purest Abe in Honest meek.
Now please Sing on, and Live to Peak Content
I write my Sighs; But these Praises I meant.
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 2:32 AM UTC
Marvelously Mentored
In mind
I guide my wheelchair
forward through the valley of death
and fear rises as if lachrymal dew
But I take heart knowing
there is a private way,
a fusion of mind=body,
my tao
Out of this valley
the way is paved
with slippery tempting templates,
Sirens songs,
a lyrical playlist cunningly self collected,
but I remain mindfully resolute
caped in electric blanket and birthday suit
my 3D hero is me, Marvelously mentored,
sans copyright.
Jul 3, 2015
Jul 3, 2015 at 7:19 AM UTC
My ribcage shatters apart to expose
Splintering fragments of brittle bone
I scrape them up into a pile
Offer them to you with a smile
Carving into this sordid heart of mine
With ink spilled from the grip of your fingertips
It spells the words I've never heard
Uttered from the sinister curls of your lips
And the lusting lick of your desire across my death bed of wilted roses
I feel your hunger devouring what's left of mine to give
Your kisses I repress with my tongue
But I'll give in until you're done
I'll beg for more down on knees with prayers
when our course has had its run into the immolation of the sun
We'll end our affairs and leave it unrepaired
dwelling in the darkness that we've built upstairs
I fall into your black tracing scars upon your attack
I feel the bones break in your back
When we collapse our arms around ourselves
Holding tight into a mendacious night
seething with tumultuous roars
Our bellies hungrily ache for each others' taste
We satiate ourselves until the early whisper of dawn
Leaving our scars in scraps of flesh and song
The bite of your bitterness sings along
So tattered I leave beside you
So shattered I break inside you
So torn to be reborn without you
We mourn the morning of our scorn
Pressing it into the palms of our hands
Pushing deeper this belly ache of rotten thoughts and perceptions
Those secret discretions buried clear in our deceptions and flatlined intentions
We have lived this life we give with smoldered chances rendered
Not a moment to spare for the tired or mentored
Guided by the guilty jilted mistakes of our indiscretions
Our hands are bathed in the blood of our love
It takes every ounce of me not to give in to reminiscing of missing what we're dismissing
We're lost searching with no profound calling to take hold of our hands and lead us into the light
just speechless apparitions given into desperations of heartache and failure
seeking a savior to release this pressure building inside the beating of our entwined hearts
Aug 23, 2012
Aug 23, 2012 at 10:46 AM UTC
I was unfortunate to have never meet you
I feel as if I knew you your so smooth
You took America's music
To another dimensional mystical
You sang with your heart, body,and soul
We as fans felt you when you was so amphibole
Your so perfect,flawless,and had an incredible gift
I could look at your pictures endlessly get my drift
Your music is heard
Every day in my heart,mind and soul for the world
Your Heart and soul
Was made of gold
You inspired so many people you mentored so many artists
You are the brightest
You was and still are loved
We as fans miss and love you wishing we could have made love to you
We all fell in love
Just like a beautiful dove
When you left us we all cried and continue to mourn
So ********
You will never be forgotten you will always be remembered
you are branded in our soul that's confirmed
When I lay quietly I can hear you singing with the angels
I surly can't wait to meet you in heaven to take you in like a sponge
Prince your the one and only
You will always live in my heart never to be lonely
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 9:58 AM UTC
Crossroads are a particular
kind of place where mythology
and actuality combine,
mix and dance with your shadow.
Limitlessness has a name
and social security number
in your restlessness
and your ambitiousness.
I've performed in cafes and on street corners,
In bookshops and depots,
woods and public restrooms
with the junkyard profits
desperately clutching to my clothes,
refusing my money
but begging for my love.
But now I am at the crossroads.
The smoke from my soul
comes in, forces me to turn around,
turn around turn around,
and see the faces,
so many different faces,
all those who have
loved me,
mocked me,
befriended me,
mentored,
hated,
changed
maimed
spit in my eye
called me what they thought I was.
So many faces.
So many eyes full of dreams and ire.
How many would I come to know again?
Who would become fortune tellers
blues-men
teachers
cops preachers
mathematicians builders destroyers
soldiers of fortune
businessmen liars or junkyard prophets?
Who will become like smoke in the fog,
slightly hazy lost-boys
off to never-never land,
never to be seen or heard from
except for the cries that whisper
the time?
So many faces.
What will I be to them?
A companion
friend
liar
hater
lover
brother
sideshow
an I knew him when
a face that looks at their back
at the crossroads,
a wisp of smoke?
I turn again,
turn turn,
a cymbal shot
pushes me forward,
left and right,
but I can never go back behind.
Johanna whispers
Even salvation must get old.
I know she must be correct,
at least as far as I can turn my head.
The right is barred,
the left is guarded by the beasts,
the faces hum a dirge or a lullaby,
I straighten my jacket,
pack my self into a slip bag,
and blow away with the smoke.
Apr 16, 2011
Apr 16, 2011 at 11:44 AM UTC
You said you would keep me close
closer than the priest is to the alter
But you pushed me away
With every promise broken
Every postponed appointment
You mentored me to walk away
And at every lessons' end
My heart cracked and bled petrol
Which burned my love to produce soot
That darkened my veins cause my heart pumped hatred
I became a blacksmith used every hurt to forge an iron heart
So cry not for me
Cause tears cant make a dead heart love
#hurt #walkingaway #tears # heartbreak
May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 6:22 AM UTC
Certain, Fresh Lad, your Craft's Promise apply
Matter subtract from the Plym's pheromones late
Your own Best Soul; Youth enhance and reply
The Tanned One's Lights; And Career concentrate
One Message sent from your Parents abroad
Which mentored by your Tweeting Aunt confirm
Clip fast your Arms; And Feet embrace the Board
Kick the Meerkat's fears and your Lion burn
So when these Sweeties witness your Best Art,
That same Pastel you carry everyday
Is in you - not There - complete on your Part
And may these Blessings always come your way.
Being your own Boss, your Goal's smile conquer
Burn those Judges; And douse them with Water.
Mar 18, 2013
Mar 18, 2013 at 2:54 AM UTC
mother was a saint
father her punching bag
sisters were all called *****
when they came home
and failed the ***** check my mother
gave them, mother did nothing wrong
she ruled with brick hard pork chops
and circles of us kids
screaming , a belt in her hand,
who stole my chocolate bar?
No wonder dad had other things to do,
referee in basketball and hockey
an ump in baseball,
a head linesman in football
a devoted Boy Scout mentor,
he mentored so many young men,
but was not there for me.
I grew up not knowing how to tie a knot or survive,
I was lucky mom favored me.
I guess because in that circle of five kids,
me being the youngest , before school age,
to stop the terror I said I had stolen that candy bar.
She was a smart saint, asked me what kind was it?
I failed and was dismissed from the circle of terror.
I went to my room the rest of my days at home
trying to balance the sanity from the insane and withdrew.
I bounced ***** off the wall. Made up fantasy baseball players.
Had all their statistics scribbled in notebooks
year after year, always my name was there and I was better than Babe Ruth. Somehow , I was smart enough to get the hell out of there.
I got out earlier with mescaline mushrooms *** lsd Quaaludes
alcohol young girls. But, I got out fully when I left to join the Air Force.
I look back and state all this for the purpose of saying it was
all my fault, not mom's or dad's, mine. I was weak.
It took me years and years to figure it out get strong find my voice
consider my mom as a saint again
and my dad as a martyr!
Jan 3, 2017
Jan 3, 2017 at 10:19 PM UTC
Hard rock candy curse
Can you think of anything worse
Or better or bitter or bolder, but
Suckled like a mischievous flower
Puckered pedaled lips lapping
Sour
Drooling spittle flavored buds
Cringe
Bitterness to the tongue
To Taste
The sweetness that you laid to waste
Receipted to hold, to touch, to taste
This way to the sweet center,
This way
To hold, to touch, to taste
To squeeze between
To Lips
To Tease
To Shape
Sour ***** of fire
Flaming sweet desire
Red hot angry fire
Follow the flavored desire
To love, to hate, to love
Laid waste
To the bitterness
Spoken in haste
Bittersweet my love
Sweet to bitter
Bitter to sweet
A hard rock to complete
Every touchy layer different
The journey to the center
Each ticklish & tormented
Mentored layer
Brings you closer
To the sweet and soft center
and
With a final lapping bang
gone.
It didn’t last long.
I have eaten it all.
It was, after all
Bittersweet
The way you like it.
Nov 19, 2018
Nov 19, 2018 at 1:06 PM UTC
You entered my life
When I was centered in strife
So you mentored me right
And invented the light
You were okay with my flaws
You were okay with my sappiness
You introduced me to God
You introduced me to happiness
You’re the shepherd
I’m the *****
Who’s ways were tempered
In the holy sector
You gave me a prize
By making things clearer
So I can look in my eyes
When I look in the mirror
You have given a gift
Of a life lift
Paradigm shift
Removing spit
Where I sit
Your inner peace
And inner beauty
Are within reach
And flow through me
So this foal hobbles
Behind its role model
Drinking the whole bottle
To match your bold throttle
Apr 7, 2019
Apr 7, 2019 at 11:31 PM UTC
Two strange souls; in life's book we entered,
From bits of the present, we picked each other.
Pain, sorrow, joy, our love have mentored,
So, whatever we do, we'll do it together.
We'll live. We'll learn. We'll know.
We'll tangle. We'll argue. We'll fight.
We'll walk. We'll run. We'll fall,
For together, well have might.
Through thick. Through thin.
Whether blessed. Whether cursed.
Though we lose. Though we win,
One; through the best and worst.
We'll stare death in the eyes.
We'll close shut, pain's doors.
We'll grow old. We'll grow wise;
You as mine and I as yours.
Trials. Hurt. Hardships, we'll stand.
In reality-paved tracks, we'll stroll.
We'll be strong in each other's hand;
Together we'll be. One, we'll grow.
We'll see the world, and curve our own.
We'll trek through calm and stormy weather.
We'll fear not, the things unknown;
Cuz all that matters is, we're together.
Keep Smiling
Jun 11, 2013
Jun 11, 2013 at 12:46 PM UTC
I walked back via the perimeter road
to clear my head. It's a tough day
when a coworker has died.
I didn't know him well, but he always greeted me by name
and had a smile on his face, even when he was mad.
His friends told me today that was because he knew
someone was about to hear from him;
we all chuckled about that as we processed our loss.
Eight weeks ago, he was healthy but for a stomach ache.
"Cancer, stage 4," and he knew then it would soon be over.
He declined treatment; took care of business for his wife,
and with his Maker. Conversed with his friends,
settled matters for his adult children, and prepared for the end.
A stroke immobilized him Sunday, and Death claimed him Wednesday. We found out later his expectant grandson was born before J died. Small blessings in times such as this.
We all agreed today that in the mercy of Providence,
neither J nor his dear wife had to bear a lengthy illness.
But his friends will miss him--those he mentored, most of all.
"There'll be some long walks in the woods," one said,
as they come to grips with their grief, "as we remember this good man, and say farewell to Joel."
He will be missed, by colleague and inmate alike.
A man of good character like Joel is hard to find.
Oct 10, 2019
Oct 10, 2019 at 3:16 PM UTC
It was revealed to me that dreams do come true
Since then I would feel them with open eyes
I always worked to be the finest and unbeatable
Every time I struck goal the world would echo my name
Folks and friends always proud to cheer from the crowd
Badges and trophies were the souvenirs of my crib
I shone the brightest in my tiny galaxy
I could view my fearless luck walk towards me
All I had to do was jump up high to touch the sky
Without second thought I ran to grab it all
Unable to sight the hurdle on the path I fell hard
Clustered the scrap of me stood strong and promised not to dream again
In seconds my cosmos turned dim and earless
When I capitulated everything a pal held my hand
Re-routed me to my course sung lullaby for me to dream again
Mentored to take tiny step one after another crawled and walked along
Have to shape my dreams into existence because one day my broken dreams won't be broken anymore
Oct 28, 2017
Oct 28, 2017 at 11:22 AM UTC
I wear my hair curly,
tight spirals that lay on my neck.
I wear my makeup dark, intimidating,
keeps the mystery that I’m so terrifying with a sweet glaze,
like honey.
But I don’t dissolve well and I came from poison.
I like my drinks colds, tingly, intoxicating.
It was the way my father handled his problems.
The way I handled mine,
I like my death cold, perspirating with teases that the next shot can be my last if I let it. I never really let it, I just allowed it to crawl in bed with me and sing me to sleep.
I’m attempting to romanticize a habit that dragged me a couple miles away from sanity, left me to dry up in the arid desert, surrounded by merciless voices.
I want to pour glitter on an addiction that gave me paranoia that I would rot in my bed, tied down by the idea that I can only be loved if I am bare.
Open, hands sprawled and not folded in prayer, because when I confessed beneath the altar, I leaked toxins that I swam in.
Wet dreams became a phrase that shook my ribcage, the grim reaper was the boyfriend in my head that mentored the shadows with a sweet malibu fantasy.
Keep playing the same song, and I soon memorized each lyric.
I like my drinks on demand, I like them rolled in fury, drenched in sorrows, a control less kind of romance that undressed me every night, alone.
Control yourself, it whispered to me, you still need some for tomorrow.
I need to escape, covered in glitter and malibu kisses.
-C.M. Aldecoa
Oct 23, 2017
Oct 23, 2017 at 5:56 PM UTC
The day rolls over as the winds blow in
sullen in the sky from a grey dark moon
darkness in the air yet still in the eve
moon is my enemy this fullness maddened dream
This dredge to awaken another blackened morn
yellow in my sunshine din dry these tears nor gorn
This life brings another day bore out the grin
forgotten pleasures given in to sin
A sigh from a future that mentored the past
into the middle as cold from the glass
drink to the bottom forget all the gloom
Dark moon is still waiting my madness consume
My face in the picture you don't understand
the darkness of madness hidden command
smile to the flash that reddens these eyes
out comes the devil you've seen his disguise
Relish the day when the moon hides its shadow
break out the party and dance to the fiddle
sing to the stars that bless you a twinkle
open your arms to the world
be the riddle
Aug 15, 2012
Aug 15, 2012 at 3:53 PM UTC
Dreams drowned.. The dreams that were drowned in alcahol , tears of the sounds unheard drowned in the vision not mentored. Dreams that were drowned in sees that lost sight of the rainy days to come and impragnate their fishes to species that don't want riches but to enriche the un'nourished dry drowned dreams.
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 3:59 PM UTC
Inside me lays the seed of life, my own life. Buried away beneath the darkness of the soils weight. Awaiting to blossom, awaiting it's nourishment, and for its protection. But the skill of the gardener must be taught, mentored, in order for that seed to have an enriched fate.
Many gardens are beautiful and admired for its ritches, for the seeds have grown tall and are full of life and colour. But for the gardens who's carer doesn't take note of the weeds underneath.., They will slowly diminish those flowers, until you are left with just weeds and none other.
All that was beautiful has now vanished beyond sight. And all that is left is shame, guilt, and a garden of black. The gardener blames himself, for surely... He should have known better? But he was never taught the skills of a master gardener. It's not his fault for that.
He slowly pulls the weeds, one by one, day by day. Restoring his soils foundation and laying his new seeds as he works. It takes him months, years even to restore his gardens former glory. But armed with the knowledge and tools for fight those relentless weeds, he is able to defend his beautiful garden, and becomes the master gardener, and the writer of his own success story.
Jun 20, 2017
Jun 20, 2017 at 9:13 PM UTC
I was seeking a reaction that never came
Often because you left me bleeding at the veins
Your only excuse left a stain
Resented you deeply but i was the one to blame
Somehow i always showered you in gold
You pointed me the fool as you stepped on my toes
I never said anything just followed your flow
I was only a guest in your playful show
A puppet to distraction as i mentored your madness
Closing my mind in disaster
I called up the plug I gave him my order
Pulled over told him it's for my disorder
An addiction to darkness
Creeping toxin slowly taking away my sickness
Puff and inhale let her bliss consume you
I roll up a new one better yet I made two
Double the antidote to cure the traffic escaping our hearts
To bad i never wrote what was at stake going this far
I chased your for miles overlooking the signs
Ignoring the newspaper to read between the lines.
Feb 24, 2016
Feb 24, 2016 at 2:35 AM UTC
When I was a lost, broken teen and kicked out at 15, needing not just a roof over my head, but internal restoration, a "godly" man helped me. When I witnessed domestic violence and had no sense of manhood, it was godly men who mentored me. When I went to the military with no sense of direction, godly people helped discipline and guide me.
When I was away from friends and family for 10 months, 10 months, and 13 months, "godly" families took me in. When I needed things most and failed to receive them from those responsible for my life, it was those in/of the faith who held me down.
Everything else in life I got my own, through the faith God's given me, and with the investment from, and love shown, by these godly people: my drivers license, my first car, living on my own, filing taxes, savings/budgeting, college, setting goals and achieving them, prioritizing and fulfilling responsibilities, marriage, family, and more essential life-related factors...
NO ONE IN MY LIFE HAS DONE MORE FOR ME THAN GOD THROUGH HIS PEOPLE.
And ever since I've been back "home," away from my military family, disciple-making ministry, and Church Family, its never been more clear how many people claim are there for you but really aren't.
As an adult, there comes a time where you become responsible for your own life in terms of decision-making and finances. I get that. I don't expect a constant investment from everyone and help all the time. But there are people who "should have" been there for me from my teenage to adult life, and weren't.
And I forgive you. I love you. I grew through it all. It took a bad upbringing and a broken home to get me to encounter "holiness" and become a better me. But don't think because Im back home that you did anything to contribute. As mature adults, the reality is you didnt. You dont get credit for the small levels of growth, success, or achievement in my life. In fact, you did the opposite. You did nothing. You failed. And thats ok. I still love you. But credit and glory be to God. Thats the reality of my life.
I am where I am today because God got me this far! Thank You!
Why do I believe in God? Cause when I was hungry and had no food, a plate was somehow prepared. When I was lost and felt alone, somehow the right people showed up. When my family was broke and pockets where empty, somehow our needs were provided. When I was across the country and overseas, other people experienced the same grace and knew the same name - Jesus.
When I doubted, he still believed in me. When I was low, his word lifted me up. When I was lost, his word and his people guided me. When I was broken, he made me whole again and again and again... It was faith that got through my teenage and young adult life. Its faith that keeps me moving forward. Faith did that. God did that. No one or nothing else... all God.
03 Feb 2019
Feb 20, 2019
Feb 20, 2019 at 8:53 PM UTC
Where have all my friends gone
Where has all the time gone
Where are the one's that I mentored
Where are the one's that I inspired
Where are the one's that hate me
Where are the one's that betrayed me
Where are the one's that got high
Where are the one's who never tried
Where are the loves of my life
Where is the one who wanted to be my wife
Where are the one's who have forgot me
Where are the one's that remember me
Where have they all gone
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 4:50 PM UTC
The Colors of purple, blue, green, and violet appear as the sun lowers in the distant horizon.
A big ball of energy and of light..... The Earth Spins
The sun exposes itself, to other parts of this beautiful planet, in which to warm them.
The moon is seen "simply" as "Magically "
appearing in the background.
"It must be my turn, once again, to shine and to light the night-time Earth." (The Moon says to himself).
The grounds cool.....
People return from work to be with their loved ones.
They relax with one another to enjoy some much needed free time and such "simpler moments of splendor."
I am starting to wish to be like the sun.
Staying light to those I meet and traveling to warm, others, who come across my way.
Enjoying the same moments as They have learned to enjoy.
I used to be like the moon.
I used to wait for great things to happen.
Shining, only in one direction at one person and even moments,short livex..... wishing to enjoy or see them for any true extended periods..
Only limited times and "safe feeling-spirts."
I had never been warm, energetic, nor "light-filled"
As the darkness made me "The man in the moon..."
A smile on my face...No open eyes nor senses.
Staying my own distance...
in which to protect my heart from damages.
It was me who needed to have the sun remind me of such..As I have been sunburned.
however,
the light and heat (of the friendly rays) warmed me up and gave me a more adequate light....
in which for my eyes to see.
Now, I feel more like him, "Mr. Sun."
I wish to keep warm, bright, moving, energy-filled and free.
Fueling the world around me, with more energy, and keeping the joy , of such, in my heart to stay.
Open eyed, more wiser, clearer minded, and a now happier soul..
A greater form of the one
(who was once unwilling to change to a brighter and a "newer" me..)
A brighter person,now, for the world to discover.....
I shall remain mentored an inspired by "Mr.Sun."
Like hum, as the night sets in,unafraid.....
As I rise and I set.
Sep 14, 2016
Sep 14, 2016 at 8:07 PM UTC
It’s eating prey
Time of day
Enter fray
Rent or stay
Gents who play
Bent the game
Their dented brain
Centered pain
And mentored shame
As inventors of rain
A mad goon
Raccoon
Attack looms
I’ll crack too
From flak flumes
Under black moons
That lack hues
To track clues
So I stack blues
To attract feuds
With a knack to lose
Looking back to you
I see a path to choose
With a wrathful queue
Remembering old news
Stomping a bold shoe
The way the cold do
Using a honed broom
To get me to fold soon
And grab the gold spoon
From your sold room
That holds doom
A habit teacher
Rabid creature’s
Static bleeder
Rapid feature
Fed me ether
Yet no relief for
My silent grief core
That starts to seethe more
After I have seen the door
To your seasoned store
Closed for sure
A saline
Daydream
Grays beams
Of light streams
So my plight seems
Like a night scene
But my fright means
That my sight’s been
Judged rightly
I’m decomposing
Juxtaposing
My lust with posing
For the trust I’m hosing
Of dust deposing
Varmint nosing
Lost and found
In the ground
Safe and sound
Except for hounds
Who’s sharpened crowns
Lie in darkened frowns
As they roam the town
That exists underground
They belong in the pound
So I can peacefully drown
Nov 9, 2018
Nov 9, 2018 at 3:11 PM UTC