Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
eleanor prince Sep 2018
(contains references to sensitive issues)

She’s just a babe
he’s only two
of youth refill
they’re broken in

but leave no mark  
so they're unspoiled
for clients booked
it's all arranged

no tracks you'll leave
their brain's not through
not 'til they’re three
so chill out dame

the program works
divert impel
‘'you crazy sh-t
here take this pill’

nobody hears
if told some tales
but they won't talk
their lips are sealed

from dot they’re trained
they’re here for us
don't have to guess
‘you talk, you die!’

so pay the fee
their price is high
and bring this dog
they’ll do it all

and shouldn’t you
take all you're due
you work real hard-
on nectar sup
-
Stop! Not so quick
for veils can lift
and imprints made
don’t ever die

archival facts
reveal themselves
when day arrives
you’ll face the Judge

and when you breach
a petal new
it injures both
and gear stick shifts

you've soiled life's bed
with squalid stains
now own the Sh-t
says mirror man







  


             
From time to time an instance comes to light involving well-organized abuse at an almost unimaginable level.  Children from a very young age are trained to provide all manner of ****** services to meet the demands of deviant and sadistic clients.  Contrary to what people may think, this happens not just in so-called 'third-world countries,' but in more prosperous lands too.  

Even where there is significant corroboration for the veracity of such accounts, survivors can suffer the further indignity of not being believed.  There is some movement and improvement in knowledge but more needs to be acknowledged and understood, not only by colleagues and other professionals providing care, but society at large.  

It all makes one ponder what leads a perpetrator to act this way.  Whilst it helps to understand some act out trauma they themselves received, it is unacceptable behaviour, is still a criminal offence - and it hurts others.   We all have choice to decide ahead what we would do if offered an easy way to cross that line.  Decency requires we resolve to remember who we want to be in essence and retain this reality check:  how would I feel if this was my wife, my child?   Refuse to abuse another.  

Some boundaries simply should never be breached, even if one is promised immunity from repercussions, e.g. told 'the child won't remember – it won’t hurt them.'   Many victims do remember and either way, such incursions rob them of a normal life, something many take for granted.  The truth is they are massively, negatively affected on one level or another, often in multiple ways, at whatever age such incursions take place.  

The reality is that transgressing on another's boundaries on any level not only harms the recipient but also those violating others.  It alters and destroys something in the offender, immediately recognizable or not, and by extension the wider community is affected.  

On looking in the mirror an offender may see at best a deluded half-life.  As my poem concludes, who would want to be meeting that inner witness to their corrupt and heartless behaviour, their real character looking back at them through the 'man* in the mirror...'

*(either gender can offend - some women sexually abuse too.  When a perpetrator takes a good look in the mirror of reality, they may well find themselves  confronted with the enormity of what they have done, and who they have become)
Lawrence Hall Aug 17
German refugee husband: “Liebchen – sweetness – what watch?”

German refugee wife: “Ten watch.”

Husband: “Such watch?”

Carl the Bartender: “You will get along beautifully in America.”

                                      -Casablanca

I­ check the time on my retirement watch
(A Seiko; they did not think much of me)
And consider that there is no time at all
Unless Creation is some sort of clock

Childhood is watchless, timeless, careless, free
But adults must be catalogued and timed:
Bulova, Timex, Rolex, and Longines
And even a railway Regulator

I check the time on my retirement watch -
And hustle off to my chapter two job
Your ‘umble scrivener’s site is: Reactionarydrivel.blogspot.com

It’s not at all reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.

Lawrence Hall’s vanity publications are available on amazon.com as Kindle and on bits of dead tree:  THE ROAD TO MAGDALENA, PALEO-HIPPIES AT WORK AND PLAY, LADY WITH A DEAD TURTLE, DON’T FORGET YOUR SHOES AND GRAPES, COFFEE AND A DEAD ALLIGATOR TO GO, and DISPATCHES FROM THE COLONIAL OFFICE.
Dan Filcek Apr 2015
collect payment support
regulatory regimes including failed merger which
effect enclosed circle including capital
Other responsibilities include:
enforce administering registrations
Responsibility protection
overarching public service
strong cadre investigating previous criminal work
Alcohol aligned
tackle pounds
Their skills range: intrusive
arrest, entry, search, detention.
detain anyone committed
listed parts which deter intelligence
analysis assessment:
the nascent department staff
occupies office
cultures: mating the terrier with the retriever
interim period empowered
relation matters within remit
Customs: ethnic-minority permanent policy of racial discrimination.
This year for Poetry Month, I decided to post a "found poem" every day. If writing a poem is like painting, a "found poem" is like sculpting. - source - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HM_Revenue_and_Customs
Kevin J Taylor Jun 2017
A poet's breast within me beats
Beats heart and something I call soul that leaps
Charges, races, racing, finds its feet
Drags me, joyful, joy-filled, from my seat!

Elevating common prose
For pleasures sake, each poet knows,
Gains by use of tools as those
He would at length I’m sure disclose

If payment were perhaps an ear
Just for a moment lent to hear
Keenly offered verse— or beer,
Loved by poets too, I fear.

Most often those who are unwise
Negate the poet’s enterprise
Out of their need to criticize
(Perhaps within their misery lies)

Quite certain they must find a fault
Regardless of the somersaults
Some poets do to try and halt
Those who, in the name of help, assault.

Unless you’ve written words as these—  
Verses made and meant to please
With just a little work to tease
Xenia* coaxed from a’s and z’s

Your day lacks all that razzmatazz—as
Zest for verse—and all that jazz.
.

*Xenia—gifts given to a guest or stranger.
This is an Abecedarian. First letter of each line follows the alphabet. Fun to do.

.
Not all poems survive. I've lost a few and let others go. My current collection of poems is available on Kindle and in paperback. It is called "3201 e's" (that is approximately how many e's are in the manuscript which is a very unpoetic title but a reflection on the creation of poetry by common means.)
A presence
presenting
a continuous torment
torturing
incessantly
until, even with cessation
only a tenuous self
is present
leaving only the resin

The maniacal
manifestation
is an infestation
festering around in my head
Its existence,
a creation
created at inception,
hacking my brain
Forever a trap
creating a
maniac

Acrimonious
to all mankind
Not acting
like a man
Not one word
that's kind
Committing crimes
and getting oneself
committed
A deviation
creating a deviant
Shifted values
due to a devalued
self

An esoteric
essence
seemingly sentenced
on this journey
by judge and jury,
not by one's peers
because the many
not able
to peer
into this individuality
The duplicity
of duality
that is my reality

Challenging myself
to a dual
One in which
I both
win and lose
But in the end
not breaking even
or coming out ahead
Always ending
further back
instead

Its back breaking
and always aching
Pain from which
not capable of
faking
Effort I’m taking
Of myself making
Time for a new king
For kinsmanship
is aloof
And this man’s ship
has sailed away
Sipping a port
at a shipping port
And yet
slipping away

Deeper still
In the depth
of still water
Sinking
into the abyss
Lost and gone
But not missed
Is this the end
of our fable?
Or will our “hero”
enable himself
and in the end
be able
Deciding who to be?
Cain or Abel?
For the hurricane
is hurrying along
Its aim always the same
Constant pain
A payment he feels
for the displaced
placement
which just in case
is placed
same place
he went

Ink in the face
A disgrace
When suddenly
encased in his brain
are racing thoughts
of a plan
he’s ace’n

A label of insanity
given by those
who claim sanity
when the reality
is their thoughts are free
and optimize
a sanitized
and homogenized
batter
And in the end
it doesn’t matter

Offering suggestions
in which they
feel threatened
Pathways congested
and protested
Testing them
Even worse,
bested
A problem beset
upon them
Time to steady
the flock
Roll n’ Rock
Inoculations we’re getting
Start the injections

“It’s been an honor”
Mounting my Lipizzaner
A disarmer
A charmer
The armor
‘mi amor’
Leaving me
wanting more
But as they keep score
the task is daunting
A life that’s haunting
with such splendid decor
-
Yet, can’t take any more
Their taunting
is leaving me sore
So to the atmosphere
I open that door
and flying up above
I soar

Forever more
Feel pain no more...
Written: August 17, 2018

All rights reserved.
Poetic T Nov 2018
We should never
bribe death,
       for this is a futile gesture.

We should pay life
       its dues,
      and live every breath we paid for.
karin naude Mar 2013
raised after 1994 post-apartheid
i was thought ultimate freedom is a birth right
more so to the previously dis-advanced
i had freedom, i thought
till i met the big un-penetrable white wall
the descendants from apartheid
racism covered by nice words, teaching and helping
meaning we govern you, you are incapable of self govern
a wall that claims land for a 'superior race'
claims entitlement as payment for teaching and helping

a wall that destroys the human soul
drives the light from eyes
dries young people's bones
a wall that butchers equal to the inquisition
salt, cayenne, lemon rubbed into emotional wounds

"a stolen ox is eaten and forgotten,
but stolen land remains in the eye"
martin Luther king wrote the dream speech 1963
that dream is still just that, a dream
words on paper
hope in the eyes of non-whites
but no closer to reality
the white wall holds
karin naude Mar 2013
raised after 1994 post-apartheid
i was thought ultimate freedom is a birth right
more so to the previously dis-advanced
i had freedom, i thought
till i met the big un-penetrable white wall
the descendants from apartheid
racism covered by nice words, teaching and helping
meaning we govern you, you are incapable of self govern
a wall that claims land for a 'superior race'
claims entitlement as payment for teaching and helping

a wall that destroys the human soul
drives the light from eyes
dries young people's bones
a wall that butchers equal to the inquisition
salt, cayenne, lemon rubbed into emotional wounds

"a stolen ox is eaten and forgotten,
but stolen land remains in the eye"
martin Luther king wrote the dream speech 1963
that dream is still just that, a dream
words on paper
hope in the eyes of non-whites
but no closer to reality
the white wall holds
Big Virge Oct 2015
So ....
What does it mean ... ?
to be .... " Corrupt " .... ?!?

Well these days ...
It would seem ...

A good place to start ...
is within ... " Government " ... !!!

Allegations of moves ...
" Corrupters " .... use ....
is ... " Regular News " ...
from ... Government Crews ... !!!

So ...
What's the score ... ?
with ... Government Lords ... ?!?
who have ... Powers to enforce ...

" Some " .... it seems
are now .... " Bought "
to affect the course ...
of ... Future Laws ... !!!!!

Surely .....
Something's ... UP ... !?!
when those ... CLEARLY IN ...
A position of ... " TRUST " ...
Affect the lives of ....

.... " ALL OF US " .....

because of .... Bribes ....
from .... " Corporate Ties " .... !!!!!

So .....
Does this mean ... ?
that ... Corporate Teams ...
who make ... " BIG MONEY " ... !!!!!  

" Cannot " .... make bucks ....
without being ... " Corrupt " ... ?!!!?

" SURELY NOT !!!!! " ....

Those at ... THE TOP ...
I'm sure would say ...

"We don't get paid,
to cook up plots !"

So .....
What's the need ... ?
to bribe .... MP's ....
or ... worse still ... LORDS ... !!!
to .... " MODEL " .... Laws ....
that ... Don't Help ... The Poor ...

It's been done before ...
and that's for ... " SURE " ... !!!

and it ... " Rarely Seems "
that they're found ... " GUILTY " ... !?!
or face .... " Penalties " .... ?!? ....
that affect ... " Their Rights " ...
to ... AVOID ... Prison Time ...
for what's clearly ... " A CRIME !!! " ...

They affect ... The Masses lives ...
just for .... A Money Prize .... !!!!! ...

" Corruption and Lies " ....
seems to be ... " Their Life " ...

But ....
" Corruption " ... It's Clear ...
doesn't end with ... " Peers " ...

" Corrupted Files " ....
seem to set the ... Profiles ...
of those .... Online ....
with ... " Corrupted Minds " ...
Like .... " PAEDOPHILES " .... !!!!!!!!

So .....

If your P.C. ...
Starts to ... STALL ...
You've been ... Surfing ....

TOO MUCH **** .... !!!!!!!!!!!

The clear sign being ....

….... Ofcourse .......

What is called a .......

" Trojan Horse " ...... !!!!!!!!!!

NOT THAT ...
I would know ... !!!!!

"Somebody" ....
Told me so .... !!!!!!!!!

I've watched my share of shows ...
that feature .... " **'s and Pro's " ...

Does that make ME ...
....... " Corrupt " ........ ?

Well ...
I guess ... ?

It kinda ... does ... !?!

But .... " Corrupted Flows " .... ?
Within .... My Prose .... ???

Well ....
Just like coke ....

My answer's .... NO .... !!!!!

So ....
" Corruptive " ... quotes ...
I choose to ... " CHOKE " ...

No Tell ....
No ** ....

But ... corruption now ...
is how ... cameras roll ...

and that's just how ...
the story goes ...
in most of these ...

.... Net Videos .... !!!!!!

Does corruption mean
A need to see ...
These girls in scenes ...
that were ... Once Deemed ...
as being ... " UNCLEAN " ... !!!!!

Well ....
I guess ... that's me ... !???!

But ....
What about .... THEM .... ???

Women ... YES ...
who ... OPEN LEGS ...
and ... Show Off ... ******* ...
to get ... FAT Cheques ... !!! ...
for ..... Having *** ......

Are they .... " Corrupt " .... !?!
for doing .... Stuff ....

That ... in the past ...
would of had them ... cast ...
as ... You Know ... What ...

.... " A ***** **** " .... !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well ...
NOT .... nowadays ....
as long as they ....

........ GET PAID ........ !!!!!!!!!

Now ... i'm no ***** ...
But ... " Corruption's " ...

...... MOVED ......

in how it's ... Viewed ... ???

which is why I asked ...
at the ... Very Start ...

" What does it mean ...
to be ... Corrupt ... ??? "

It seems to me ...
that ... being corrupt ...
can fulfil many dreams ...
of ... " Living It Up " ... !!!!!!

So ....
what would you do ... ?
if you met a ... crew ...
who ... Offered you ...
A ... " Load of Cash " ...
to ... "****" ... another man ...
or to ... Build a plan ...
to ... " INVADE " ...
" Foreign Lands " ...

Well ....
if you would ... " Accept " ...
that type of ... " Payment " ...

Do you think ... ?
" You should " ... ?!?

" Corruption " ... could ...
Affect ... You Too ... !!!!?!!!!

or people ... who ....
are ... " Close to You " ...

which goes to prove ....
" Corruptive Moves " ....
can lead to ... Abuse ...

The kind of ... Abuse ...
that has ... " Moral Issues " ... !!!

So .....
Maybe it's ... " Morals " ... ?
that have ... " Hit the Rocks " ...
and have now been ... " Lost " ...

So .....
What's the ... " COST " ... ?

A lump sum ... payment
to affect ... " Government " ...
which may well ... Affect You ...
more than it does ... " THEM " ... !!!

So ....
Do you think it's ... COOL
when this causes ... " Problems "

Like todays ....
" Credit Crunch " ... !?!

i'll leave that to you ...
to ... Consider ... your view ...

But ....
Here's my last question ... ?
for corruption to ... LESSEN ...
in this .... " Modern Age " ....
where ... "CASH" ... is the aim ...

whether by ... " Getting Laid "
or by ... " Law Breaking Ways "

When you think of this stuff ...
What does it mean to you ... ?

To be one who's .....

.... " Corrupt " ....
Having just watched the docu-movie, Cartel Wars .... this poem came to mind ...
betterdays Jun 20
miles mean nothing to a heart that is pure
words penned in grace, sent to ether
give heartease to the overstretched
sowing stiches of understanding
in tapestry threadbare

little suns and stars
shining bright in love and hope
from face unseen and adirondack chair
gives strength to one down, from down under
allows grief, the words needed the abilty to care
for these simple gifts, no payment required
from the heart open to care...
in response to a beautiful poem" the dirge of memory" gifted to me by Nat Lipstadt....one in a million..
bob Apr 2018
Leaves the gate unlocked.
No need to knock.
No need to make a payment
on the hood of her car
for when the curtain's drawn

enter

and there on the kitchen counter
a cocktail waiting
for my consumption
on an island coaster
made of bamboo.

From the backroom
she calls over Marley's
No Woman No Cry
come here, baby.
And I do.
v V v Feb 2011
The Catholic church
endorsed the world today
for a dollar ninety nine.

-Announcement-

Every iPhone owner!
sinner, saint or stoner!
Come now have your sins forgiven!
forgiven if you spill your guts,
if you just confess,
then watch technology do the rest.
Absolution for you and me!
Send your sins across the sea!
your sins will fly up through the sky
encrypted on waves to reach the almighty,
the Vatican! the Pope!

A man of God appointed by the church
yet is he any different than you and me?
We know he sins the same as us,
the book of Romans says its so,*
and do you really think his tall hat
and flowing dress can make him
any more chosen than us?
Can he really hold back lust?
Will he not eventually turn to dust
Just like the rest of us?
is he really any different than us?

How ironic he receives a royalty from
a symbol of the fallen world,
The Apple
computer company,
payment for our absolution…

...So the world fell
by the fruit of a tree
and now expects to be
redeemed the same way.

The truth is not in a man.
the truth is not in the Apple.
The truth is not in the white smoke rising
from the stacks on Sistine Chapel.
The truth cannot be dried up.
The truth cannot be cured.
the truth is not the Pope's to smoke,
To believe it is absurd.


If you want to know the truth,
the truth is in the blood.
The blood covers everything.

Including what is written here.
http://voices.washingtonpost.com/fasterforward/2011/02/confession_app.html

*Romans 3:23 Galatians 3:25-26
Galatians 4:17 Hebrews 4:14-16
Nat Lipstadt Apr 2018
I am not the master of my writing

-
my writing masters me,
seizing me when the seizure is a sure thing,
it dictates to its enslaved scribe
what it desires this utensil to reveal and expel -
the contraries
who having battled to a ****** draw leaves the battlefield trembling with indecent indecision; the optimal conditions for its macrobiotic invasion of my brain stem;

the she-muse offers me two choices:
she wants a poem writ forthwith
on the lyrical expression
of depression and refusal is
non optional

so I fantasize escape and that becomes
her property as well;
evidence against me to be used at my trials,
the one where there is no statue of liberty
from the limitations of prior bad acts;

I offer the she-muse two choices:

give me a cabin with WiFi
and self-enforcement of solitary confinement and
tie me up with the rope remainders of broken bonds,

bonds that tied me up worse
when they were broken
and the peaceful withering
that won’t disrupt disturb nobody
from a distance

my other choice is to bury me
forthwith next to my parents
and shutter my constant tearing eyes which are drop-resistant

muse says that’s no choice
I own your voice stilled or not,
will bill your soul’s account for
denial of poetic services

weep; i don’t want the noises that curse this troubled
bodyship don’t want recollections good or bad

the muse-***** cackles with insanity of delight
for she accepts this writ as partial payment
on her commission, whispers I love your
lyrical expressions of depression
that ****** recognition algorithms
alert me that seizing time is nigh

there is no on/off switch for one like you:
father son and holy ghost
s Feb 18
cat scratches
in the green room
a back stage
more calm than the front.
I ask about the
maroon robe
and picnic-table-cloth choker,
home made.
making my way through
the Bombay Sapphire
highs and lows
Awkward hellos,
over salty popcorn
and Bonobo.

Mc Donald's veg burger
and soft serve updates
'I earn in dollars' she says
a fly in my fries plate.
Share my toothbrush
and my bed like old times
- let us pretend
that nothing has changed.

Groggy Sunday morning
of Chilas
and Break-uppers, half way.
Mustard bed-sheet - full size -
and a nehru jacket for bae.
Peanuts in all flavours for lunch
- a craving for guava -
and always room for
frozen tender coconut.

Payment apps
and gym subscriptions
compared on the way
- a stitch fix for clothes -
monthly and bespoke.
A game of bulls
and cows,
and a reason to drink
before curfews.
quick goodbyes
with hugs to go
and a waiting black scorpio.

Hot engines,
stretchy hair caps,
dodge the lasers,
catch the light traps.
a gun called Marco
and the stench of childhoods
that are hard to let go.
pink bowling *****
and green nylon socks.
arcades smell like
sweat, ginger ale
and fries gone stale.
A catch up cigarette,
recording racing tins
before  midnight votes,
on who is to move in.
Nat Lipstadt Apr 8
reverence in poetry.                             everything to every person.

reader claims they can                         a necessary skill for
uncover the reverence.                         successful hypothecating and
in the scripts that                       (buying)poetry-creation outta nothing,
life straight hands me,                          tell them what thy want to hear,
for collection & correction,           and they’ll call you laureate,                      
secretarial transcribing,                        instead of good listener
binding, typo correction                       or just a keen observer-fakir

mundane are the tasks,                          just take what they give ya,
that’s all them muses ask,                     dress it like Joseph in a
don’t interfere, taken what’s given,     coat of many colors,
bow, curtsy, show respect,                     don’t let on your plagiarism
treat its aspects/instincts correctly       is all them, redressed legally

you’re just the pass through agent,   true you, gotta be smart about it,
patient for no payment expected,    variant spellings, swinging verbs,
be our adherent, not our truant,      be discreet, they’ll call your script
we appoint don’t disappoint,          a real keeper and give love or sun,
accept our patent, render legit        mucho poem emojis accoladeya

as for this reverence thinge        devil in a blue dress, walk the streets
if I do my job ok, on any day,     grabbing snatches of overhearings,
any poem could save a life,        pressed into a single tunic, you think,
if I get the commas placed,         he a genius, knows my thinking,
just right, the periods period,     exactly,  what a great poet and
while obeying the speed limit    con/hu-man par excellent

them muses so **** pleased     even fool muses, too full themselves,
by this true confession released, muses who think we stink and
and self deprecation,                     couldn’t do it without them
they call me reverend,                   great pretenders by stealing
imagine them silly folk,                everything in everybody and
calling a big fat liar.                       all thieves and cape riders,
reverend, duh, the end                 original liars, pants on fire



before midnight and after 3:20am April 7~8, two oh nineteen
any message you send becomes my intellectual property, fool....
sometimes two poems intersect as you write them side by side,
related, distant cousins
I am Jupiter storms
Unabounded by time
Raging on
And eons
Can not hope to confine me
To unstable matter
And mass
Rearranging
My molecules morphing
To liquefied jewels
And my surface
A canvas
Of unrefined fuels
Like an abstract mosaic
Of swirling
Unfurling
Tempests of archaic
As constellations
And the ages I've waited
And slumbered and spun
Into memories
Faded
And taken the names of your gods
As my payment
Inflating my ego's
Mesmeric rotations

So quick to claim hearts
Of Europa's amidst
My seductive, enchanting
Illusory bliss
Venture into my centrifuge
Fumy abyss
I have pressed up my lips
Of a frigid, wet steel
And then sealed
With a kiss
What ‘nary
A planetary
Can resist

And as she revolves
Around me
And gives life
Io dances about me,
Callisto my wife
Ganymede my seed
And the rest of my progeny breed
Future needs
What the Earthlings will need
To make up for their greed
All will see
Look to me
In my enormity
As my reservoirs
Fill them
With infinity
Christopher Jul 2018
Rise and shine,
Time to start a new!
Or as you could say,
How long till you go your way?

I'll be lucky if you don't start crying, whining or lying about your everyday work.
You could've found better but it's just the beginning so of course it's gonna have it's qwerks.

Barely the middle of it and I can't take ****.
Just take it down and trust me, it'll be real quick.

Quick, here's a tip, don't try to give lip when miss is sick of your trip to this 15 hour shifts cause you can't take a hint that this ain't it your gift or your payment, even though you've been ripped and played and yet you wonder why we shame your decisions.

Oh and don't worry, I'll be here contemplating when Daddy comes home and think, it's just his beginning to an end.

See you tomorrow cause it's the end of just one day.
Don't try to make a profit off of side jobs and self made companies.
Vexren4000 Oct 2018
Payback for payment,
Petty paltry peril,
Primrose periwinkle petite girls,
Petting potbellied pigs,
Petrol pounding in pistons,
Pending papers piling up,
Pens polling poll takers,
Petty paltry penance,
Paid by the piper.
For a piece of peace.

©BAS
Leonard Green Jul 2017
Hear ye, hear ye
hearken from the medieval times of old
where knights in the round once roamed
jousting with deeds fought in truth and honor
to protect the weak, the helpless, the oppressed
with an ideology lurking since the dawn of time
that all are born free, unshackled from contrived ordeals
only to soar high with the eagles to become one with the heavens
and bask in the glory of serving the frailty and holiness of mankind

Hear ye, hear ye
it’s Merlin conjuring a magical spell for the spirit
to behold, to marvel, new stages of self-enlightenment
where the essence of the King invades sleeping visions
possibly foretelling ominous events awaiting new missions
or predestined journeys one must endure to become so bold
in knowledge and wisdom offered, living in this world’s mold
not necessarily realized, instead shrouded with unimpeded urges
akin to the signs found in youth, immaturity, the close-minded

Hear ye, hear ye
the quest to sip from the Carpenter’s silver chalice
and taste charitable love for family, friends, and foes
where reckless pride and hatred are speared with the arrow
forged in devotion of a noble belief, tempered with selfless feats
where the sun rises and sets on the wicked actions of human nature
slaughtering the divine lights prematurely, locked within many souls
yet crusades against evil continues, no retreat, no regrets, no surrender
price to uphold the spirit of Camelot, payment in full, services rendered.
One should not fight because one wants to but one has to in order to protect life.  The taking of life should never be considered a good deed...a better way?  Change their minds...
An Mar 15
Less hate
Loathe
Abhor
To my friend
Burn soul with his frame
Cremate him
With his sins
He is now dead
Ashes in air
Dust
Blare in the ear
Of his death
Had
Life of lie
The brutality
He Denied
No pardons only payment
Respite for a time
But fate won’t be held
For long
Punishment
To him
His sins
He died
-tohissins
I'd say I 'miss you'
But can that possibly
convey the true
sentiment
of how I feel
each day?

I say 'no way'
A torment
is laid
A sacrifice
that must be made
This road before
I've paved
but this time
with new waves

No longer the waves
of goodbye
Yes, it's true
before we tried
Tears were cried
A mountain climbed
But alas,
it was not time
The bells hath not chimed

What is due
is due in due time
And good times
are what await
While I sit here and wait
Though my wait is over
For no more
will I second guess
I know who's best
Forget the rest
It is you I will hold
against my chest

A treasure chest
but not filled
with cliche jewels
and like items
No, instead
filled with what is
truly priceless
What money can't buy us
What each of us
is searching for
Longing for
Like a knock upon the door
or a child wanting more
Not prepared
for what's in store
Like one who's out
begging and poor

For so long
on the 'other' side
But not this time
for that time
has ended
and in the end
all wrong is now right
because I have you
right by my side

No longer that fear
that I kept inside
Wanting to run
Go away and just hide
But no matter
how much I try
(which I admit isn't much)
I can not hide
what I have inside
for you
Yes, it's true
A love that is true
Complete in its virtue
An everlasting truth
So cozy and cute
Like an old couple
smushed together
in our favorite coffee booth

But no toll
at this booth
More like
a 'kissing' booth
A carnival fair
Cotton candy
in the air
Along with the
ever-present
and ever-lasting aroma
of love
that together
we share
Hand-in-hand
Sit or stand
and into each other's
eyes we stare

To others
may not seem fair
But we're too love struck
to care
Our hearts
with each other share
A caring so deep
That a trench
in the sea
still couldn't possibly
in any way effectively
convey what we see
What we feel
What's inside you
and inside me
How we
just 'BELIEVE'
I feel it
Don't you?
I know you do
You feel it too
We've known for so long
What we now know is true

So, here at the end
our story begins
An epic journey
of sadness, heartache and loss
But the price must be paid
And in full payment we made
Day after day
But the cycle we break
Having cost us the cost

All that sh*t we just tossed
No more carrying of weight
Mark your calendars
This date
Because the waiting
is gone
I can finally see straight
Warm inside
Feeling great
And with one foot
First step I take
As we take the plunge
I would dive off of the Sun
or forever I'd run
Do all that must be done
You are now
and always have been
my number one
Never a contest
to be won
It was yours from day one
And will be forever
till time is done

I love you.
Written: November 23, 2018

All rights reserved.
Carter Ginter Jul 2017
You left me with scars
Deeper than those I’ve given myself
With only your gritty hands.

You took a beautiful act
And stained it with grease
Ruining it for any future lover.

Yet, you used my experience with others
To justify your actions
Because you “love me so much more.”

You abused me like a child;
Expecting loyalty
And punishing me regardless.

But you “loved” me;
You manipulated me
Into thinking it was my fault.

If I stopped letting you explore
The body you felt entitled to
You threatened suicide.

I was poisoned into believing
That you actually cared for me
When you were breaking me slowly every day.

We were best friends
Until my mind caved in on itself
And my body was too broken to love.

I chose my life over yours.
You’re suicide instead of my repeated ****.
Yet you’re still breathing.

Parts of me died every time you touched me
And when I felt incapable of continuing
You offered money in return.

Considering my financial situation
You knew I couldn’t say no
So I sold you my body.

Emotionless you left me
Stealing breath from my lungs
And life from my veins.

I gave up
Once paid, I left you
But I’d see you anyways.

On the bus.
In the halls.
That day of the final payment.

An envelope full of money
Left me feeling even more empty
Realizing what I lost for it.

With it you left a note
And your prized possession
The indicators of your impending death.

You said you were sorry.
You said you loved me.
You lied.

While I’m happy you never took your life
I’m dead inside still
Because of you.

You took ownership of my body
Without my permission
And you left it broken and incomplete.

Those pieces of me you stole
I will NEVER get back
And you don’t even know you’re a ******.
Deborah Downes Sep 2016
Fever-flushed children and
Broken bodies
Litter hospital halls like so much
Human refuse
….Wondering why
their need for care is treated so tepidly by a
Society which worships
Profits
Power and
Prestige
….Waiting while
they wallow in anguish as
Privacy
Paperwork and
Payment are
Debated by bureaucrats in cubicles
….Wanting to be refreshed and
restored to some measure of usefulness
….But
Free to Pursue Life on their terms in exchange for  
Silence
Acceptance and
Despair

Huddling for warmth and in
Fear of discovery
they assemble in rag-tag formation
having scaled formidable fences
Seeking freedom from
Poverty and oppression
Searching for work of any sort
….No matter how
Humiliating or
Hard
….No matter the
Cost or
Conditions
Disparaged and despised they labor
in hope that their children will have a chance for success
instead of suffering a similar fate
…..But
Free to Pursue Liberty
in a land where their presence is
Ignored if not Denied

Unkempt in camouflage
One-legged and
Vacant-eyed
he rolls his rickety wheelchair along grassy median with muted effort
displaying cardboard sign
childishly scripted
in one weather-worn and gnarled hand
while clutching a decapitated jug in the other
Forgotten
Forlorn, and
Discarded veteran
Victimized far more by country than foe
….But
Free to Pursue Happiness while
Begging on street corners as
Upright citizens dispense
Unwelcome opinions or
Pocket change with equal
Self-righteousness


Life
Liberty and the
Pursuit of happiness….
Ideals that slowly incinerate on the
Altar of Capitalism
….Songs forever lost in the
Cacophony now
Played on the
Instrument of Politics
Next page