"reported" poems
In a world without technology,
can you imagine how it would be?
To not have any lights.
We'll probably stay home at night.
In a world without technology,
we'll lose forms of connectivity.
We'll not have wifi or 3G,
distance will be as it should be.
However, without technology,
We won't have people far away,
because we can only walk on foot.
Most will live at home for good.
Without technology,
perhaps there'll be more sincerity,
where more people would be seen,
not looking at their phone screens.
Instead they'll stop and listen,
giving undivided attention,
to the people by their side.
Perhaps without technology,
we would have to do things manually.
Life may be tough physically.
But with technology,
is our life really that easy?
Is the world really as it should be?
Are people living in harmony?
Or is there more strife?
More people losing their lives?
Or is there more pain,
more people dying in vain?
What about pollution?
Isn't it part of our contribution?
All the fuels and carbon,
it'll soon bring us to extinction.
Our earth today is now diseased,
life on earth is not at peace.
We can deny all this,
And this is the utter irony,
while it gives us mass connection,
It reduces engagement,
attention and perhaps even compassion.
"Across the globe, millions reported dying",
ends up being desensitizing.
Technology's connectivity,
leaves us more detached than we should be.
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 8:53 PM UTC
After days of hot sun, down came the rain,
It watered the garden, and flowed down the drain.
In less than five hours, the month’s quota met,
The news had reported, a record was set.
The drink was welcomed, by the parched earth,
Ending the dry spell, experienced by Perth.
But soon people complained, about getting wet,
They wanted the sun, how soon they forget.
We’re never satisfied, with what we get,
It’s too hot or too cold, too dry or too wet.
We want 24 degrees, with sky that is blue,
And rain for an hour, in the morning at two.
We should be grateful, for the sun and the rain,
Make the most out of it all, and do not complain.
when things do happen, which we can’t control,
Leave it in his hands, it’s part of his goal.
Bill Hoeneveld. 4/26/2016.
Apr 26, 2016
Apr 26, 2016 at 12:33 PM UTC
Death you are seen so repugnant.
Death you are sensed so vile.
Death you are deemed so untimely.
“Death can’t you wait for a while?”
But Death, aren’t you Life’s true redeemer?
Making everyone think well of the dead.
Death aren’t you Life’s other half?
Death don’t you tuck us to bed?
When our wanderlust has faded,
your embrace remains unjaded.
Death you are humble in your infamy;
Life the glory claims.
Yet sickness, accidents and war
are all Life’s macabre games.
That which kills you comes from Life.
Life will push to make that sale;
living organs mere currency.
Cannibalistic Life - advertising as a fairy tale.
Death you are left to clear the carnage.
Death – the coloseum’s sand –
innocently soaked in the blood of Life’s cruel hand.
Death you are Life’s psychologist;
motivating each step, each trial.
Making us get up every morning
to make each moment worthwhile.
Death you employ Time’s creation
to set a deadline to Life.
Summer, Autumn, Winter, Spring
Death you are a scalpel; Life a butcher’s knife.
Famine, plague, disease, beast,
Without glorious survival, why feast?
Death your work with Time is inspired,
for we created it to understand your course.
With Time we can learn Life’s seasons
and record it’s length before it’s divorce
from our fragile clay.
Death you make us frugal with our Time,
yet generous with our Love.
For to each heartbeat’s rhythm and rhyme,
we fervently dance to give.
To make another grief-stricken Death.
For if Life is filled with meaning,
it is Death’s boon to us all.
Life becomes exhilarating –
A race before the fall!
Death remains a wallflower to the very close.
Death only wants to meet us;
a gentle lover with a rose.
Encouraging, yet terrifying.
But if we fear the Darkness, it is Life we fear not Death.
How often has a blinding Light been reported on a final breath?
Sep 30, 2015
Sep 30, 2015 at 6:56 PM UTC
There is a young lady called Anna. She is a loner. She lives alone with her two cats. They are her world. I am a cat lover myself and have 2 little cuties in my nest. But these cats are just plain feral. They terrorise the other cats in the neighbourhood and **** in all the neighbours’ garden.
She works Monday to Friday for a recruitment company. She leaves her flat in a purple Mazda convertible which is renowned for being a Hairdresser’s (AKA dumb **** car. Every day she leaves at 7.30am on the dot and every day she arrives home at 7.15pm on the dot.
Once at home she turns on her TV cinema system (sub), just to watch the TV.
*****
At the weekend she also leaves her stinking putrid ******* bags out in the communal hallway.
*****
She ignores her neighbour’s knocking on her door. She ignores the notes that they put through her letterbox.
*****
So as Anna was not willing to speak to her neighbours directly. They had no other way to turn apart from to report her to Environmental Health for playing her TV cinema system (sub) too loudly and also for the disgusting ******* that she regularly leaves out in the communal hallway.
*****
In which she returns the compliment by reporting them (said neighbours) to the Environmental Health for:
1) Shouting at each other,
2) Talking too loudly,
3) Banging kitchen utensils on the floor when she is in her kitchen
How deluded is this *****
At the same time that her neighbours reported Anna to the Environmental Health they also spoke to the Community Support Officer. They advised them to contact the Mediators in their local area. Which of course they did. The Mediators arranged to visit one evening. Unbeknownst to them they parked in Anna’s allocated parking space. Once they had finished with her neighbours, the Mediators returned to their car. Just as they were about to reverse their car, Anna arrived home in her Mazda convertible and blocked them in.
*****
When she got out of the Mazda convertible, with attitude I might add, she asked the Mediators who they were. They then introduced themselves. Once she knew who they were, she invited them into her flat to hear her side on the story.
YES I AM HER ******* NEIGHBOUR AND YES I AM STILL WAITING TO HEAR BACK FROM THE MEDIATORS……
Jan 30, 2010
Jan 30, 2010 at 11:21 PM UTC
The forest of legs swayed in the moving shadows beneath the chatter over head, each threatening to block our path and crush our attempt to get to the first fallen crisps of the party season, which as yet laid undisturbed.
We weaved and advanced as fast as their legs allowed, eager to scavenge the waiting bounty before they were trampled underfoot by the oblivious adults who were intent on a seasonal ritual of their own that went on high over our heads.
We emerged unscathed at the edge of the forest and raced across the open parquet to the cover of the drapped, white topped trestle tables catching our breaths and crunching our snatched crisps planning our next move toward the plateau above.
Our scout had reported rich pickings, but when we looked around, seeking signs of our brave advance party, we could find no trace beyond a half eaten volovant and what might have been regurgitated mushroom. We shook our heads in despair at their folly. Every kid knows to stick to crisps and to processed meats, avoiding anything that might contain vegetables. We saw an open French window just beyond the trestles and heard plaintive heaves that had a distinct 6 year old strain.
We checked each other's resolve and saw on each other's faces that we believed our mission was more important than any one stomach. With a maturity that would have surprised our parents, we pushed the plight of our friend to the back of our minds and focused on the task at hand.
We each reached up with practiced stealth, taking only a second to check the food on offer and with a speed bred into us by the curse of older siblings, we each grabbed our prize.
Acknowledging the hazards of the return journey we devoured the meat at hand and with hyena grins savoured our just rewards. While our fallen friend heaved once more, we saluted one another: the season had started better than any of us could have hoped.
Sep 7, 2018
Sep 7, 2018 at 5:25 PM UTC
My cousin told me that I am a good storyteller, but I should write something about me, about real people and a time that I was scared "shitless". Well, I can only think of one time of a real life shocker that shook up my young world. It's nothing suspenseful. It probably wouldn't win any contests, but it isn't contrived. It's a snippet of the first time that I encountered the raw reality of death.
What did I know about death at eight years old? Our parakeet, Perky, died. My grandparents dog, Bruno, had to be put to sleep. As a girl, I vaguely recall seeing a dead man in a coffin, and that was at the funeral of my mom's aunt's husband. This was only an introduction of the temporary world we live in.
Well, then there was an older couple two doors down from us. They had two grandchildren that used to come and visit them, a sister and brother. When in the neighborhood, they would play with my older brothers. I cannot even recall their names. I cannot remember what they looked like or what they said.
What I do remember is the news being on in the living room, and I was eating dinner in the kitchen with my mom and brothers. Suddenly, the faces of that brother and sister were on TV. It was reported that their mentally troubled mother had killed them. I think it was because she was denied custody of them in an ugly divorce. Doing a little bit of digging in the Michigan death index online, I rediscovered who they were. They were Susan and Richard. They were ten and nine-years-old at the time.
I surely don't remember plenty of details, as this was in June of 1973. Over forty years ago, it's a much faded memory now. I only know I did not go to the funeral home. If I did, I am sure I'd be horrified to look upon those children who were robbed of their lives. Death was no longer just for pets or old people. It wasn't fair and it didn't discriminate in age. And if it could happen to someone as young as them, it could come knocking on my door.
Perhaps, that was the beginning of my fear of death.
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 11:43 PM UTC
you fell deeper and deeper,
down the pit fall of depression,
You read my battle,
off the scars on my arm,
you seek a remedy,
to help you get along.
you fell deeper and deeper,
down the pit fall of depression,
I gave you advice,
you never used,
no matter what I tried,
you got worse and worse,
you fell deeper and deeper,
down the pit fall of depression,
you stopped sleeping,
stopped eating,
stopped living,
I felt your pain and it was killing me,
you fell deeper and deeper,
down the pit fall of depression,
I looked at you,
and saw my past,
every time,
you would over react,
you fell deeper and deeper,
down the pit fall of depression,
I had to do something,
but couldn't alone,
I wrote it all down,
and turned to an adult,
you fell deeper and deeper,
down the pit fall of depression,
you got some help,
I passed my mission,
or so I thought,
until it was all for attention,
you fell deeper and deeper,
down the pit fall of depression,
You lied to me,
and reported me for harassment,
after all the nights,
I tried to help you with your depression,
you fell deeper and deeper,
down the pit fall of depression,
I couldn't of lived with myself,
if something had happened,
I told people!
when really your hospital bracelets told everyone.
So now I'm falling deeper and deeper,
down the pit fall of depression,
My world is coming down around me,
all because I tried to be a good person,
do the right thing,
now this is all on me,
I fell deeper and deeper,
down the pit fall of depression,
I'm trapped and scared,
now everyone hates me,
the darkness is back,
and it seems to have trapped me.
I fell deeper and deeper,
down the pit fall of depression,
Its closing in on me,
my thoughts are dark,
I'm still trying,
to shut off my heart.
Oct 16, 2017
Oct 16, 2017 at 3:48 PM UTC
My bf works in Geneva, Switzerland. I go to school in New Haven. We Facetime a lot - but it’s not ideal.
“I wanted to tell you, that it’s been nice.” I told him somberly.
“What do you mean?” He asked after a moment.
“Well,” I began, “You know how I like to go down to the harbor and watch the ocean?” “Yeah,” he answered.
“Well, I was down there this evening and the sun plunged into the sea and it got dark. I think we’re all going to die.”
“Anais, you’re on the east coast,” he reported. “That’s true,” I confirmed (New York’s on the east coast and it’s 60 miles away).
“The sun rises in the east and sets in the west.” He explained. “ocean sunsets only happen on the west coast.”
“Really?’ I said, flabbergasted, “I never noticed that.”
“Yeah,” he reiterated.
“I have a confession,” I admitted, sighing.
“What’s that?” He enquired.
“I made it up, the sun and sea thing,” I admitted.
“For real?” He followed up. “Yeah,” I said. “Why?” he asked.
“Nothing happens, when you’re not here,” I disclosed, “It’s SO dull, I’m dull, I’m afraid of underwhelming you.”
“We’re going to die someday,” he assured me, consolingly.
.
.
songs for this:
I Can’t Remember Love by Anna Hauss
So In Love by k.d. lang
It’s the End of the world as we know it by REM
The end of the world by Skeeter Davis
Apr 20, 2024
Apr 20, 2024 at 9:44 PM UTC
1651
A Word made Flesh is seldom
And tremblingly partook
Nor then perhaps reported
But have I not mistook
Each one of us has tasted
With ecstasies of stealth
The very food debated
To our specific strength—
A Word that breathes distinctly
Has not the power to die
Cohesive as the Spirit
It may expire if He—
“Made Flesh and dwelt among us”
Could condescension be
Like this consent of Language
This loved Philology.
4k
When you think of a drug addict, what do you see?
Someone who’s messed up, depressed, or on the street.
Sadly, there are quite a few of those freaks
They need their daily dosage or their days incomplete.
But what if I told you users aren’t the real drug addict?
It’s the government…. They’re the real drug addicts
But wait isn’t that a little dramatic?
That cant be true! Show me some facts, I demand it!
Alright, alright…. Hold on… if you demand it, here’s some facts then
In 2011 the war on drugs cost 23 billion dollars
But, that’s just the federal budget, you just wait, the states can replicate.
Over 30 billion dollars were put on their plate
That’s 53 billion total, 1716 of every second of every day… isn’t that insane!?
Well yeah, you could say that’s insane, but I’m still not impressed, can you step up your game?
Of course I can do that! I have much more to say!
Okay then, I’m all ears, amaze my brain!
From 1987 to 1995, the corrections budget increased 30% because more and more people were being thrown in the pent
Meanwhile, spending on higher education was on the decent--- 18% to be correct
Ah, that makes sense, but what I don’t get, is how that’s relevant?
Just a sec, I have more to vent
In 2010 21% of those in the pent were in for a drug related offense
And what percent of people do you think had a malicious intent?
Well… I guess you could say slim to none
Right! While educations lacking the proper funds to teach kids what they need to know
Okay, okay, I get what you’re saying now, but I still don’t get why you think the government is the drug addict?
I mean, don’t users spend more on drugs than the government does?
Drugs are expensive, and they take an abundance of money from a users pocket.
Yes, that’s true, they spend more spend more money than the government does
There are 20 million plus who reported using drugs in 2011, they spent around 70 billion dollars to support their love
That’s 3500 dollars spent per user
Meanwhile, just over 7 million people are employed by the gov
You know what that means? Our gov spends 7300 dollars per person employed for the war on drugs.
Wow… I never thought of it like that, those are quite the facts
You know what, that actually makes me mad
Obviously it makes our government a mockery, a living joke of a democracy
I can see why you say the government is a drug addict now
They’re addicted to a war that’s bringing us down
They can’t go a day without spending money on it
And look how successful it has been… pretty prominent their habit is chronic
I even recently heard that more people die from drugs they’re prescribed than drugs that are despised
Yes! I almost forgot that! It’s actually 10 times more people! Isn’t that unbelievable!?
Now, we’re not trying to say we should end the war on drugs
But don’t you think its time the government rethinks their strategy?
Because its obvious the one they have now is a tragedy.
Feb 13, 2013
Feb 13, 2013 at 3:40 PM UTC
I had once been in a church to drink a beer
Behind the pastor seat
A risk I took with no fear
Ends me a back seat.
I wonder who reported me
For I was sure all doors were locked against me
I was sure the gate keeper didn't notice me
I guess the walls have eyes
Oh, maybe holy spirit really exist
But why did he have to show up then
I was in the same spot sweating in prayers
Crying rain seeking for a divine help
Nobody reported me then
Is this not a case of betrayal?
People, they just love being messengers of negativity
When I was sweeping the altar, dusting this same pastor seat nobody shouted my activities.
Wait a minute, what was I thinking
Why should I carry a sin in a bottle
Straight to a supposing holy temple.
Holy? Is a place I once caught cockroaches making out holy?
The venue where our tithes and offerings are being pocketed by the church hierarchy still holy?
Even as that, I don't suppose to join the crowd to pollute the Lord's place
Truly I deserve even behind the back seats, yes I deserve the shame.
Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 2:24 PM UTC
I walked into a high school,
with one friend,
the only friend I made in elementary school,
who stayed my friend.
My mommy Doesn't like her,
I walked into a high school,
and my only friends older sister,
who felt like my sister too,
Passed away,
the school didn't care that we all cried,
I walked into a high school,
and I tried to make other friends,
and a kid got ******
and he stole my phone,
the police did nothing to him like the school and he later ***** a girl,
I walked into a high school,
going into a program with high hopes,
only for them to get shattered by those who didn't wanna deal with me,
because people didn't get things related to ADHD,
and I wanted to drop out,
I walked into high school,
and skipped the class,
after the one where the teacher and students all harrassed,
me,
because when I reported it, it was their word against mine,
I walked into high school,
and I talked to the teacher who would harass me,
and tried to make him understand me,
understand how I can't do things like everyone else can,
and he made me head banana masher and then I puked,
I walked into high school,
and Skipped that class for the first time ever,
because the teacher made me *****
be he was absent that day,
and I got in trouble for skipping and "lying about the incidence"
I walked into high school,
and skipped my classes,
and cried in the bathroom,
and cut myself,
because I couldn't handle my panic attacks,
I walked into high school,
trying so hard to make some sort of friends,
and they yelled at me every time I ******* smiled,
because they didn't want to allow me to be happy,
The school wouldn't let me have friends,
I walked into high school,
and tried to hangout with people after school,
and they just yelled at me,
made up lie about where I was supposed to be,
They tried to get more mom mad at me,
I walked into high school,
oblivious to what love,
***
or abuse was,
and the boy I was seeing ***** me,
I walked into high school,
on the final day of freshman year,
to take my final so i could get the **** out of there,
and they harassed me the entire exam period.
they said things of confidentiality,
I walked into high school,
and everyday I left in tear,
with a scarred body,
and nothing but fear,
and they expect me to wanna come back the following year?
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 7:11 PM UTC
Women Rising: Five Predictions for Women in the 2012 Workplace
In Society 3.0, Dr. Wilen-Daugenti presents a compelling case for how women’s prospects in business are on the rise. Based on her research at Apollo Research Institute, she predicts that in 2012, women in the workplace will reach the following milestones:
1. More women will become leaders in the workplace.
In 2012, 18 women will be running Fortune 500 companies—the highest number yet. This confirms a rising trend of women’s corporate leadership. The U.S. Government Accountability Office reported that in 2009, 40% of managers in the workforce were women. In 2010, women held 15.7% of board seats at Fortune 500 companies.
2. Women-owned firms will drive job creation and employment.
Women business owners employ 35% more people than all the Fortune 500 companies combined. Women own 10.1 million U.S. firms, employing more than 13 million people and generating $1.9 trillion in sales as of 2008.
3. Women will obtain higher education in greater numbers.
Women now earn more degrees than men, with graduates from all ethnic, racial, and socioeconomic groups racing past men in rates of completing programs of study. Women aged 25 to 34 are more likely to have a college degree and are more likely than men to go to graduate school. By 2012, women are expected to earn 60% of bachelor’s degrees, 63% of master’s degrees, and 54% of doctoral and professional degrees.
Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 6:14 PM UTC
***a morning conversation
with surprising anecdotes
of unique explorations..
reported confrontations
by science practitioners'
sudden dates with death..
now authoring testimonies
of their dimensional truth..
much comfort growing
from ample recordings of
bright tunnel experience..
let us now inquire
are these flashing NDE's
consciousness leaps..?
might they point
to death's vital role..
at last finding
real self-awareness..
life in this moment..?
asking then..
is not each breath
our moment experience
of near death...?***
Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 12:11 PM UTC
On the day Liz Taylor died,
CNN called Larry King
out of retirement to
eulogize her during
the mornings
breakfast segment.
Tears were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
TEPCO stated that one
of the Fukushima nuclear
reactors was on fire.
Tears of cataclysm
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
government officials warned
that Tokyo's water was
contaminated with
radiation and was not fit
for infants to drink.
Tears of anguish
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
the crew of the
USS Ronald Reagan
scrubbed the deck
clean of TEPCO
radiation.
Tears of worry
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
Oregonians rushed out to
buy potassium iodine
tablets to counteract
radiation poisoning.
Tears of affliction
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
NATO forces continued
to fire missiles and drop
bombs on Libya.
Tears of agony
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
a terrorist bomb exploded
in Jerusalem, killing one
and injuring many.
Tears of vengeance
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
the Syrian Army fired on
demonstrators
calling for reforms.
Tears of hostility
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
The USA Today reported
that during the past decade
the population of Detroit
declined by 25%.
Tears of loss
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
a dilapidated brownstone
in Philadelphia collapsed;
city officials expect
many more to occur.
Tears of distress
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
President Obama cut
short his Latin American
trip by skipping a tour of
Mayan ruins.
Tears of dismay
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died
the Dow Jones Industrial
Average closed
up 67.39 points.
Tears of joy
were shed.
On the day Liz Taylor died,
Elton John dedicated the song,
Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me
to the memory of his departed friend.
Tears were shed.
You Tube Music Video:
Elton John,
Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me
Lewes DE
3/23/11
jbm
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 2:23 PM UTC
I have fears – they are very real to me. But contrary to what the some may think, my greatest fears are not rejection and abandonment.
My greatest fear is that everyone will continue to turn their heads while victims are screaming.
My greatest fear is that survivors will express exactly how they feel, whether verbally, or acting out, and they will continue to be invalidated by being told they need medication and therapy in order to control their behavior, thereby reinforcing what they learned as children.
My greatest fear is that victims will continue to be silenced by therapy, or numbed from medication, and the clinicians, the researchers, will continue to ‘theorize’ and develop treatment that, in the long-run, is not helpful because they, themselves were NOT abused and have no idea what really should be done.
My greatest fear is that survivors will continue to be lab rats in the development of treatment that is not helpful, they will continue to drop out, time after time, and they will continue to self-harm, ‘repeat the trauma’, and possibly commit suicide because they believe no one cares.
My greatest fear is that the statistics will grow and no one will do anything about it because they do not know what to do. These are the facts:
**A report of child abuse is made every ten seconds
More than five children die every day as a result of child abuse.
Approximately 80% of children that die from abuse are under the age of 4.
It is estimated that between 50-60% of child fatalities due to maltreatment are not recorded as
such on death certificates.
More than 90% of juvenile ****** abuse victims know their perpetrator in some way.
Child abuse occurs at every socioeconomic level, across ethnic and cultural lines, within all
religions and at all levels of education.
About 30% of abused and neglected children will later abuse their own children, continuing
the horrible cycle of abuse.
About 80% of 21 year olds that were abused as children met criteria for at least one
psychological disorder.**
And this reflects only what is reported. Imagine what that percentage would be if all of the unreported cases were included.
And of the millions of children that survive the abuse, many grow up to be adults who are able to put it behind them, succeed and present themselves as an acceptable member of society, and many of them do not. But what are we DOING about it? When will people stop turning their heads? When will we finally stop, look and listen to these children being abused and to the adults who were abused as children?
When will we, society, decide that child abuse, and **** and ****** assault are important, and affect millions of lives every year, and that it can be just as deadly as cancer. When will we finally stop whispering and turning our heads and actually face it and do something to stop it, and effectively treat those who ‘survived’?
I hope it happens in my lifetime, and I hope I can make a difference!
Sep 10, 2013
Sep 10, 2013 at 8:36 PM UTC
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Nov 15, 2018
Nov 15, 2018 at 7:37 AM UTC
There are metallic, life-like statues of human figures scattered through my city, often on park benches. You must look twice the first time you spot them, and sometimes, each time, as they are so nat-ural, that they fool the retina image of man.
The traffic light,
red to green,
yet my limbs,
froze fruit solid,
release catch stuck,
unflippable,
somehow plastic freezes,
mobility skills rusted
by December's hampering
cheeky cheeks,
a seasonal reddish copper
discoloration of the extremities,
a harmony of no sensation
A comet stuck in
pedestrian neutral,
collided/jostled by
starry eyed
Fifth Avenue
street walkers and tourists.
my presence sensed,
touched, yet avoided,
unnoticed,
like streetlight,
lamppost, mailbox,
I am, a body,
at rest,
unseen
but on display
in the art gallery of
Manhattan's Lost and Found
In the section of the paper
where the
unimportant local news is
sliced n' diced
into single paragraphs,
of human interest,
tidbits, amuse bouche,
items of
major minor interest,
The New York Times
reported the discovery of an
unauthorized lifelike
bronze n' copper sculpture.
eyes of polished nickel,
heart of stained steel,
rendition of a man
so lifelike y'all do a
triple take, smile,
take a cell photo,
phone a friend
his embodiment can be found
on the rounded corner of
Columbus Circle, @59th St.,
where you enter Central Park.
upon a bench,
man clutching Sunday newspapers,
a pair of scissors,
coupons cut,
scattered at his feet.
a homely but comely,
****** expression,
one of bewilderment.
A tiny plaque on a brass plate,
at his feet,
hints of his progenitor and human origins.
Artist: Unknown,
Materials: Organic Metals
Title: A Living Finish
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 5:38 PM UTC
From the edge of our atmosphere it flew
nobody knew the craft existed.
Invisible to radar screens out of sight
the spy plane didn't exist.
At the period in history myth or fact
then proof they lacked!
A plane flying at seventy thousand feet
thought an impossible task.
Designed to spy undetected at this height
against their powerful old foe.
But the intrigue when they started to fly
a surge of UFO's reported in the sky!
Was this what pilots were reportedly seeing
and civilians on the ground.
Not alien but man made flying saucer craft
but maybe not all were!
Could it have been this secret spy plane
or something we can't explain!
Strange lights that change shape and colour
blending into one then dividing.
Triangular shapes seen all over the planet
often over groom lake!
So are they secret and developing planes
created on barren salt plains!
Is there a need for mankind to be very afraid
if we knew the secrets being made?
The Foureyed Poet.
May 31, 2012
May 31, 2012 at 7:33 AM UTC
Nothing hurts more than rejection
A mother throws away her new born baby
Nothing hurts more than rejection
A wife abused and beaten daily
Nothing hurts more than rejection
A father told he is not allowed
to see his child
Paying child support, while his role as a father is deported, any mistakes he is reported
Nothing hurts more than rejection
A girl told she is not pretty enough to be loved
Comforted by insecurity, abused physically and mentally, wounded emotionally
Nothing hurts more than rejection
A boyfriend proposes to his girlfriend while she walks away leaving him on one knee
Left to face his pain and agony
Nothing hurts more than rejection
A lover sees his lover fall in love with another lover, when he knows that should of been his lover, heart broken as he knows it’s all over
Nothing hurts more than rejection
A mother told she will never be a mother
Because her womb won’t let her
All she wanted was one son and one daughter
Mar 30, 2018
Mar 30, 2018 at 9:37 AM UTC
In March of 2010 a 46 year old white male was brought to this hospital after a severe 'episode'. He was placed in the Mental Health Intensive Care Unit . He was diagnosed with " Major Depression ". This is considered Slow Death , a treatable disorder by the AMA currently . Artist and Architect will lay out Hallucinations and conceptual designs , Engineers , Mathematicians and Surveyors will coordinate more pills at higher doses because minute details to within fractions of an inch followed by schizophrenia by Earth moving equipment , graders , bulldozers , psychotic episodes , dump trucks , Carpenters and Concrete , bi-polar disorder and Bricklayer will labor different Help treatment methods because the drugs are having absolutely no piece by piece constructing form , pylon , shoring embankments for Steel Worker and Welder ,Pipefitter and Increased risk of suicide was reported for Plumber and all manner of tradesman , supplier and Pharmacist ........
Psychiatrist and Psychologist will formulate a treatment plan which will include drug therapy and counseling sessions with Electrician and patient and Spouse plus other family members if needed in order to reach the island Drowning which will be a difficult task . Emory Hospital is conducting new research because they finally admit to depression drugs not working in Freak more than half the patients today , like every other building bridges in hopes of getting to the island that is depression .
Sep 27, 2015
Sep 27, 2015 at 9:42 PM UTC
How many times I lay
On that old couch
Just through the doorway
Where she shuffled from the table to the stove
Bringing food to dad,
In for supper late,
Or moving dishes to the sink
While I rested from the day,
Just lying there,
Unaware of conversations
I was soaking in.
"I should have sold the winter wheat
A week ago.
No telling how far down the price will go
Now that Russia's stopped our sales."
"Pizza, two for seven dollars again;
Apples three pounds for a dollar;
Bread for seventy-nine."
Or heard his offhand orders for next morning:
"Fencing's got to be done at Henry's.
Boys! I need one of you to check the pastures.
Take some salt and mineral along!"
Mother seldom spoke, or if she did,
She gave correction,
Reported pizza inventories, or bread.
Asked clarifying questions,
But always the creaking oven door
Or the running of rinsing water.
I awoke this morning at three,
Almost a year after my fathers death
From a restless dream of lying there.
Heard my mother's sounds,
My father's voice,
Life as once it was,
Mundane and wonderful
From the couch around the corner of the door:
A living memory
I would no more expunge
Than to remove my own name.
In a dream state,
Attentive now to sounds
Grown too late significant,
Too late sweet,
Almost too painful now,
I lay,
Half aware or half awake...
Thankful to live a memory so real,
Unaware I was transfixed
Inside a memory
Moving lightning speed
Through dreams....
As he was readying to leave,
Perhaps to go down to do one last chore,
I heard my father's footstep at the door.
"Dad, I wanted you to know
I love you very much!"
I spoke the words,
Loudly, so he heard.
I heard him clear his throat,
Say something about getting back to work.
And I awoke, a full day's drive away
From that old couch,
Itself five miles up the hill
From the buried urn where his cold ashes lie.
Jan 18, 2013
Jan 18, 2013 at 6:27 AM UTC
Have there been any reported miracles
Since the martyrdom of Saint Charlie?
A few crutches left lying around.
A wheelchair.
Perhaps a small resurrection?
Just askin'.
Sep 21, 2025
Sep 21, 2025 at 8:11 AM UTC
Thylacinus Cynocephalus.
Tasmanian Tiger, Tasmanian Wolf,
A crepuscular hunting nocturnal beast,
Carnivore by nature, feasted upon wallaby,wombats and roos,
Caught by female of the species,
Was he a feline or a lupine beast, hyena perhaps,
No, this strange creature now probably extinct was marsupial with pouch,
Female with pouch to grow her young, male had pouch of his own,
Protected his crown jewels within a scrotal pouch,
Appearance of a stripy dog,
Looked rather like a tiger,
Had amber eyes filled with fire,
This diamorphic beast, (Means the chap was larger)
Had four toes on hind feet and rigid tail of kangaroo,
It's gait was rather odd,
Could move like kangaroo, if it so desired,
Strange call, a guttural sound, alerted his family when he was abound,
Shy secretive little creature,
Kept himself locked out of sight,
For in the late 188os, early 1900s these creatures had a bounty on their heads,
The bounty hunters had such fun, left our world with nearly none,
Last beast in the wild as noted,shot by gun by Mr Batty,
1936 the last captive creature died in Hobart Zoo,
Reported name was Benjamin,
Book called The Djin-jum Man, said man, Batty man maybe, was cursed for killing the last of their kin,
Poor things,
Living legacy remains,
On Tasmania's coat of arms, two of these fine beasts support the islands emblem,
Probably gone but never overlooked,
Still being sought but never found!
By ladylivvi1
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
This was really difficult, hope its quite accurate!
Jul 25, 2013
Jul 25, 2013 at 4:33 PM UTC
the third of january saw this;
the moon is a stone in the sky
and the night a blanket of holes,
the rain an error of clouds
and the stars a coda of cats;
this day told me;
you are hidden behind your face,
all your words are coded like scripts,
your body is full of lines,
you are paged inside yourself
Jan 11, 2018
Jan 11, 2018 at 5:12 AM UTC