"reoccurance" poems
Bad News *****
I received news today that really really *****
although not totally unexpected I know
circumstances beyond our control is what we say
isn't that what we always say when we don't know
the end has come and the end has gone
and I sit her now searching for the truth
I mean a much deeper truth about you about me
should I be in search of a confessional booth
where I had settled into a way of acceptance
a spark emerged that breathed in new life
dancing had once again become real super cool
but part of the chorus removed with a carving knife
now the damage has been limited in part
and disaster control has taken an interest
the team will regroup and come here often
even though that might not really be the best
my mind will wander from time to time
past old McDill for the upteenth reoccurance
the object may one day be spotted found again
but I may have to accept total disappearance
on to other projects I hope to fill me up
old baseball gloves and even some hockey pucks
but looks like another stretched and sprained ligament
dam all I can say is boy Bad News *****
Gomer LePoet...
Oct 17, 2011
Oct 17, 2011 at 12:26 PM UTC
You have no business being here
So stop your complaining
And leave
Before I call the police
For your pathetic story
To be laughed at
Because you shouldn't be upset
When you're the one who
Caused everything bad to
Happen this evening.
I just wish I would
Have never believed
Your words because I
Warned you of the
Things that have
Occured in my past.
Now you're another lying
*******
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 5:27 PM UTC
Heartache seemed like a reoccurring trend within her life.
it was simple to see that happiness was not her best quality. Something very troubling it seemed. Memories from the past never seemed to escape from her. It even haunted her dreams. Past monsters seemed like angels from the heavens. Their words so blissful, their touch so pure. The pain was indescribable. The restlessness seemed unbearable. She wanted to disappear but wanted to be missed at the same time. Those who truly loved her could see she was a tragedy. Those who didn't love her thought she was just crazy. Why she cared so much, not even she knows. Hate was not in her blood. Being left was her worst fear, yet a reoccurring action in her life. It seemed like new characters, however a rerun. The same lines they spit out, or shall I say lies. The same vulnerability she showed. As they walked away so heartlessly, taking away a piece of her a bit more each time. You'd think she'd learn by now, but she seemed to always go beg back. They called it begging, she called it bringing her sanity back. Nobody understood her, not even herself. Nobody wanted her, not even herself. Nobody loved her, not even herself.
Jul 9, 2017
Jul 9, 2017 at 7:07 PM UTC
A continuous concord of concurring events.
Draining me of my relevant reoccurring drowsiness.
I wake up in the same bed,
Twisting and yearning for the day it'll all end.
Waiting for the repeat of this tremendous cycle that cyclones with no remorse for the living or dead.
But at least the deceased have a grave for them to rest.
Meanwhile I'm stuck here trying to live in my head.
I share a room with two voices both mutilated and demented from the cemented walls I've put up to defend.
Those who claim they know the secrets to an ally cats fight.
Will surely know the secrets to how I end my flight.
By derailing this inconclusive inconvenienced inclosable train.
To a sanctuary I can never find so instead I submerge in my pain.
Feb 28, 2016
Feb 28, 2016 at 3:35 PM UTC