"stong" poems
Look up
What do you see
A brown eyed girl
Staring back at me
Look down
What will they think
A brown eyed girl
Is ready to sink
Stay stong
So you will know
A brown eyed girl
Can not be wrong.
Oct 2, 2013
Oct 2, 2013 at 2:33 PM UTC
As Stong as the An African Elephant
Yet were are supple and elegant.
We are persuasive talkers so our words are very Eloquent.
Crafted From man's rib and An earthly element is How God made the first Wombman in the old testiment.
During the worlds development
We somehow begun to be irrelevant
Forgetting that we were designed as a help mate who is heaven sent.
We shed Bloods for days sometimes a months without dying.
Raising our children to Be Ladies and gentlemen whom are edifying.
In our wombs a human life we are able carry.
We are informational like a human dictionary.
We store resoureful pieces of data like a library.
Created with brown sugar, warm honey, cocoa and Gold.
Out spirits are Radiently Bold.
Our bodies are temples that can't be bought or sold.
We have a Story that must be hear and told.
We are the beautiful flowers in the month of May That Springs up and blooms in middle of noons day.
We flourish just as the fluorescent blue jay, Whose mood is Joyful and gay.
Our Skin absorbs the sun's Incandescent. Ray.
Some may say, Our hair is ***** but Actually, Our hair just happens to defy gravity
So we wear it upon our head proudly like a Crown
because Living in socitey's prospective of what you should look like will weigh you down.
You will stay stuck on being lost when you already have been found.
Be about your fathers business and know you are Heaven bound.
We are run life's race with meaning and purpose in our pace
Even our walk is embedded with grace
Nature's beauty smiles upon our face
As We Wear God's love like a Pure Gold necklace that's trimmed with lace.
The Strength we've gain
Turned us into warriors from living the through the most Excruciating pain
Thats the Reason we humbly pray as we sing and dance in the middle of the storm's rain.
Our humility will continue to remain.
We are women of Virtue
I wrote this to encourage you
Never let no one break, hurt or discourage you know who you belong to.
And who deserves a Woman of your statue.
For Being black Is Exhilarating
And being a woman is Breathtaking but Being a Black Woman is an Honorary Identity that is Legendary.
Nov 18, 2016
Nov 18, 2016 at 9:21 PM UTC
I'm fine.
The lie I say every f**king day.
The lie I say multiple times a day.
I wake up from a sleep that hasn't rested me,
And I lie. I'm fine.
When the woman I love asks if I'm okay, I lie to her.
I'm fine.
When she's breaking down due to her own issues,
I stay stong for her. Tell her it will be okay.
Possibly another lie.
I bury myself in these lies, to make sure everyone else is okay.
I'm fine.
The only reason, the ONLY ******* reason, why I haven't attempted for the 3rd time, is because I am scared of the impact of other people.
I'm fine.
I don't care what happens to me.
I care what will happen to others.
Laurens future. Her own mental health.
My Mums heart. I can't take a son away from my Mother.
My sisters big brother.
My Dads nipper.
My nephews uncle.
I'm fine.
My best friends. I couldn't forgive myself if I made the group smaller by 1.
I'm fine.
It even extends to work.
I can't let others take on the burden of doing the work I should be doing, because I ended it.
I'm not that selfish.
I'm fine.
Its the crippeling debt we're in.
How the f**k can I let the person I love put up with that on her own.
We barely live pay day to pay day.
And how can I do this to a family that hasn't even started.
I'm fine.
I am fine.
This constant feeling of something catastrophic is about to happen.
This invisible ocean I'm drowning in.
This explosion that is happening in my head, that I'm constantly holding back.
The thoughts that flitter in my head so easily.
I'm fine.
I say it with a smile.
I say it with purpose.
I say it with a heavy heart.
I'm fine.
My mouth says I'm fine.
My eyes scream for help.
I've been so good at lying, I've convinced every other communication I have.
My actions.
My words.
My mannerisms.
The jokes I flood into every conversation.
I'm fine.
I try to laugh as much as possible.
It helps convince others I'm fine.
It helps supress.
If I don't laugh, I die.
Or so it feels.
I'm fine.
Jan 21, 2021
Jan 21, 2021 at 8:58 AM UTC
I wonder if the trees could talk
Would they tell about the breeze?
Would they talk about the sunshine?
Or of their many different leaves?
Would they talk about that woodpecker
That's roosted on their limb?
Or maybe devise a brilliant plan
To rid themselves of him
Would they tell us of their thirst?
And celebrate the rain
Would they talk about their fear of fire?
And how they hate the flame
Would they talk about the winter?
How it robs them of their shields
As the winter breeze scatter their leaves
Across the barren fields
Would they talk about the summer heat?
And the sacrifices they've made
As they hold their limbs high and stong
To cast our needed shade
Would they talk about their Creator,
Who rules from Heaven above
And profess undying gratitude
And their never ending love?
Sep 25, 2012
Sep 25, 2012 at 6:27 PM UTC
i tried to be stong.
but your roots grew around my ribcage.
and your soil in my veins.
green vines tangled around my heart.
with flowers blooming in my mind.
afraid that one day,
they will all know decay.
Mar 27, 2013
Mar 27, 2013 at 12:08 AM UTC
---
A man near the 10 cities
Was mad and bound in chains
He could break all of his bonds
But never his sin's stains
The Gerasenes was home to him
But he was still outcast
He cut himself with stones
He had a madman's caste
No one would come near him
For fear he'd take their life
He was stong & terrible
But naked and in strife
Due to his insanity
The stones became a knife
Jesus must have known
This man was in great need
He decided to travel there
So that prisoner could be freed
Seeing him the Madman ran
To confront Him there
The demons in him knew their time
Was up... and they despaired
"Please let us go" they said aloud
"Into the heard of swine!
Please do not send us far away
For it is not our time!"
"What is your name?" Jesus asked
And this was very wise
They could never lie to Him...
"LEGION!" They replied
"We are very many..."
And that was truth back then
A legion of footsoldiers
Was at least 4000 men
So Jesus sent them to the pigs
And there they entered in
The swine ran into water
And, of course, they could not swim
The people of the region
Were told by the swineherds
Of all that had just happened
They ran and spread the word
They went up to Jesus
And found the man reclined
Sitting clothed & normal
He was in his right mind!
"Please leave our coasts!" They shouted
"We want no trouble here!"
They were all excited
And some were in great fear
"Please allow me to come with you!"
No wish to be alone...
The now-normal madman
Was then told to return home.
Is Jesus' arm now shortened?
Or can He Heal and Save?
Can he make deliverance
For those now so depraved?
If that man named "Legion"
Could be healed at last
Perhaps you could be also
No matter what your past!
Ask him to deliver you
You can make a start
He can come to help and Save
And finally heal your heart!
SoulSurvivor
(C) 5/25/2016
May 25, 2016
May 25, 2016 at 11:07 PM UTC
Silence as he goes down the steps
he knows he musn't wake
his mother who sleeps upstairs
he musn't wake his sisters or his brothers
He opens the door to the bathroom
and Sees his reflection
UGLY, STUPID, WORTHLESS
Words like these bounce around his mind
His skull is a bouncy house and more words keep piling in
Wanting a chance to jump high
He opens the cupboard and sees the pills
A bottle of painkillers the doctor gave to his sister
He creeps back to his room
Slient like a night cat
and he sits on his bed with the note right beside
Sorry for being such a dissapointment, sorry for causing pain, I am gone now don't worry anymore i will longer I have to be a burden
he opens the cap and he can feel that he wants to cry
he pours the pills into his hand and takes each one
one at a time
I am gone, gone forever never to return again
No longer have to be a disapointment
I can be who I want to be after death
No longer having to feel less
No longer I have to be stong
As I sing the sucide Song
Jan 27, 2013
Jan 27, 2013 at 6:56 PM UTC
Kerosene eyes
everywhere you
look, sparkling-
deceptive, I think
I would like to dive
until I sip
and burn my tongue on you.
Stong shoulders
everything you
support, worlds-
dependable, I think
I would like to rest
until I lean
and you dissapate like summer mist.
Feverish fingers
everyone you
brush, warming-
blooming, I think
I would like to thaw
until I touch
and suddenly find myself blazing.
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 5:49 AM UTC
Sometime i cry, cry because im in this long confusing process of trying to figure out who i am and what i wanna do with my life.
I cry because im constantly putting myself down
I cry because my mom does it ten times more than me
I cry because i feel like im not good enough for anyone
i cry because i just wantt to be the reason for my moms smile even though shes the reason for my tears.
I cry because ive beeen obsessed with popularity, and being accepted because i some how feel it will substitute for the love i dont get from my mom
I cry because i want to come home once in my life and be welcomed with a hug and kiss
I cry because i swear no one understands
I cry because i try to be stong, but i feel so weak, ugly, worthless bcuz thts what im told on a daily basis by the one who gave me life.
I cry because i feel so broken and empty inside.
I cry because i try to comfort myself; i say 'things could be worse' but i only cry more because the thought of someone going through something worse than what i am breaks my heart. i just wish i could take away everyone's pain. tell everyone their beautiful in their own way and to never let anyone tell them different. tell them what I need to hear,
I cry, I cry for those people...
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 12:12 PM UTC
He sat there
I saw the sadness in his eyes
He looked at me straight in the eyes and said
"They bully me"
"Who bullies you?" I ask him
"My friends at school they call me names"
"What do you say back to them"
"Nothing I have to look strong or
They will call me a cry baby"
"Its ok to cry they are hurting you
When we hurt we cry" I say
"I do cry at night in my pillow
Where momy cant hear me"
With tears in my eyes
And speechless I think
What has this society came to?
A NINE YEAR OLD is crying in
His pillow where no one can hear him
To look stong infront of bullies
I tell him everything will be ok
And he look at me crying
"Sometimes I wish mommy never had me"
I lost it... how can this little boy
So passionate
So heartfelt
So quite
So sweet
Be going through something
so horrible
So tragic
So breaking?
This little boy goes through something
Something he hides so hes not
Bullied more
The worst part is....
Hes only nine.
Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 6:55 PM UTC
i looked at the mirror and i see nothing important,
i just see me ,thats it ,thats all i see,
im NOT important,!!!!
i dont see nothing special on me,
every one have something good,
i dont,
they got good phones,beats,tablets,ipads,iphones,
i dont,,,,,,
that dosent make me different tought,does it?
no cuz material is not important!!!
maybe if i get an iphone ill be important,
they be laghing at me cuz i dont got one,
whats the difference tough?
im a human,im a person,
now i look at the mirror and i see my reflection,
wich it reflects a stong person a person who have a lot show,
if you dont wanna see that person then dont do it but thats all it matter
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 9:55 PM UTC
After all the flavor is lost
Will you still chase the taste?
Free and untamed to breathe, arrange
The lights that cross your eyes
A dotted line
to walk beside
but you still wander off
you think your belly's empty
consuming everything
your eyes can get pretty big
Oh collide
and burst inside
If you want to try to get rid of it all
lie awake and wonder why it came to a cost
of love and reasons to carry on
go on with purging
all the one's who help to feed you
go ahead and see what happens when we reach your throat
your hunger is a lost cause
Why so hungry
to keep on judging
a friend
it looks so lovely
but is it worth it
until the end
cover the beauty
by all of your hurting again
**** off the lovely
for jealous hunger
that cools and smothers
and gets right under
the fire
you're all alone
could you catch
the winged key unattached to
the necklace that you stole from the true
I hope
you don't
In fact I know
you won't
because gravity don't take too kind to flying
all you want
is to have it stolen or bought
to earn it with the right work just ain't you
A slave is what you are
to the grudges you hold onto
many times I've seen it done before
one in control
and dominion over souls
is just as wrong as letting go of hope
it takes many create
a stong and healthy place
so why the **** can't we ever get it right?
Aug 3, 2011
Aug 3, 2011 at 8:09 AM UTC
Places to defer:
To a salty justice
Soap and a question worth
Please be my ought, a common request with a shrill vice?
Salt seems to be my only hope...
Stoic rewards and harrowing few's, of callousness
Aside, I see the providence of stillness, take root
With a smile and a sharing behalf, I wonder if I bless...?
Stong winds may disapprove...
Long looks at no-where's imagination...
Standing well in front, savagery in back with no love...
And the anarchy of that smile, anxious and doting on silent...
Nightmares, with a reaching lead of simplicity
A lip of service and dissuasion, set too high
For a requited moment, to tell the wishes we imply, inherently
Have the yearning before a seldom seen, angel understands cry...
Given the time, given the lucid rhyme
Of patience and its virtue, your remembering
Of a long sated and twisted form to compare, the youth of time?
Has a voice struck with means, meager enough to swear we...
Shoulder
A rising fortune of senses alive, set to aches and plains
Of worlds redeemed, by a wish we made, with a meant nerve
Will you marry me, is even a voice to martyr beyond the call of the rains...?
Jan 25, 2023
Jan 25, 2023 at 6:19 PM UTC
The sun on the hills, lighting the golden leaves and green pines,
The golden leave rustling in the air as I drive by.
My window down, the soft breeze playing with my hair,
Slightly cold but nice this fine autumn morning.
The golden leaves and green pines rush by the window on both sides,
Like golden fire in spring green branches, the leaves and needles playing.
The car rushes around the turns like a bobsled down a shoot,
Or like a snake, weaving and winding, as I speed up into the mountians.
The breeze from the window becomes too much, the pressure in my ears too stong,
So I roll it up, locking myself in the car, separated from the nature rushing by.
But the sights are still so amazing, the colours, the beauty, the leaves, the needles,
Small lakes and rushing streams, making their way downward as I go up.
Up and up I got, further in and further up, leaving civilization and noise and man made things behind,
Each curve further from the concerns of life and and worries of every day.
The golden fire recedes, giving way to more evergreens, more grass, more flowers,
Autumn being marked not by golden leaves but by dry tan grass.
The mountains are visible ahead, great sleeping giants, waiting for release,
To rise up and walk the world once more, resounding echoes of their footsteps.
But for now they sleep, snow and glaciers in sharp relief against the creation granite,
Rock so old, so massive, so permanent, in a way the human world could never be.
Oct 8, 2011
Oct 8, 2011 at 12:09 PM UTC
Your love wasn't the kind
that knocked me off my feet;
I still stood tall
Your love wasn't the kind
That made me stumble;
I still felt strong
But your love
has grown on me,
And I can't escape
I dream at night
of what would happen
if your love should leave
I would be left to face
the world on my own and,
I am certain I would fall
Because without your love
to help keep me tall,
I will get knocked off my feet
Without your love
to keep me stong,
I will stumble
Feb 2, 2010
Feb 2, 2010 at 6:07 PM UTC
As he fell into autumn
He marvelled
And smiled
Despite his fate
Her colours so stong
And her powers unreal
His hands
Still not cooled
After the fire he felt
When he reached out
To touch her hair
Under a perfect blue sky
He fell
And with the colours he faded
Into different shades
Of darkness
Volcano
As the pressure builds below
With rising levels of acidity
The waters around us show signs
Of impending doom
There are cracks at times
Sulphoric fumes too
But no one cares
as long as the plaster holds.
In time the magma builds
Like a boil the mantle explodes
In a Plinian eruption
Of petrifying pyroclastics
And lava flows
Raging and ravishing
Fertile lands
With misery and despair in its wake
As it calms down
And the lava cools
The reconstruction begins
Around the old mantle
The surface crusts again
Like a wound healing
But marked
Scarred
And the pressure builds once more
Another eruption is imminent
The mantle builds every time
Until it collapses
Into a magnificent caldera
The imploded chamber
Of an emptied magma chamber
Feb 23, 2013
Feb 23, 2013 at 10:35 AM UTC
HIM
I was like superman
stong
powerful
independent
until she came along
with her gorgeous green eyes
and they were my kryptonite
my deadly
but somehow lovely
kryptonite
Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 3:32 PM UTC
chest on top of chest
hot and heavy breath
goosebumps all over
fingers wandering
mouths trailing off
skin is warm to the touch
stong arms hold me closer
show me what love really is.
t.h.
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 2:21 PM UTC
Twisted
lingering brightness
Twirl
of firey flames
Released
thown
with thrusting
rhythmic arms
Caught
in strong hands
dark and powerful
Tribal hip sway
fast
and nimble
Practiced
muscle memory
instinctual
Bare
stong legs
red heat
flare
glowing
smooth skin
angular
unsinged
footfalls
beat down
syncopated
heart beat
pulse points
harmonize
civilization fails me
entranced
primal
wanting
beautiful man
with fire
Sep 29, 2015
Sep 29, 2015 at 6:33 AM UTC
Staring at the clock,
Waiting for you,
Missing you,
Is like a disease,
With no cure,
It slowly kills me
Your warm embrace,
Always,
Puts a smile on my face,
And when times are tough,
I always know,
Your here, waiting,
For me to collapse
Into your stong arms
**** everyone
Seperating me
From you,
Reflecting on that,
You have to know,
That when you die,
I'll want to die too.
Feb 19, 2012
Feb 19, 2012 at 4:02 PM UTC
I'm getting ready to play this Insane Game, Insane Game
All these vocies in my head keep screaming at yea, at yea
Now who thinks their mind is stong enough to stand up, stand up?
They said my mind was unstable, so call me Crockpot
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 1:53 PM UTC
Collar and hip bones
Thigh gap and skinny wrists
Concave stomach
Boney ankles
It's okay to envy
Your best friend.
Straight teeth
Happy eyes
Wavy brown hair
And an iris to match
I don't see anything
Wrong with
Liking her better.
No scars on her skin
A troubled past
With few sins
A family who loves
She has so much more
Than I ever could
But she has me
To be an example
Of what to never do
Stay stong and
Always know that
She needs you too.
But you believe
Ther is no reason
For her to envy you too.
But there is so much
You know that she
Never could...
Jan 19, 2014
Jan 19, 2014 at 7:53 PM UTC
Life is tough
You can be crushed in just a puff
That is why I learned how to be stong enough.
People tried to bring me down
They laughed at me like I'm a clown
But I showed them how I could still win the crown.
They showed me darkness so I could lose my hope
Distracted me so I will not be able to cope
But I fought to see the light instead of sitting down to mope.
Insults and curses are what they gave me
But I turned those into motivations to see
A better future that awaits me.
Had almost died due to many illnesses and felt like everyday I'm getting weaker
Doctors told me I could not any longer
But I survived coz I am a fighter.
Had been through hardships and pain
But I did not just cry in vain
It is courage and strength that I managed to gain.
Instead of seeing things negatively,
I have dealt it and countinuously dealing with it positively
That is why I can live happily.
I believe that God is always there for me
Even from my deepest and darkest misery
He never fails to help and save me
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 10:11 AM UTC
The day creeps nearer
the date is calling
my heart still beats a beats thats fallin
time to find the truth no dare
time to live a life ..no beer
ten days so long yet even closer
to find my fate ..win or looser
no job ,no cash ,no way of knowing
fates new blow ..stay ..or going
I know that folk will laugh and fear
once my comeuppance for all those years
so time to duck and dive some more
time to fight them from the doors
being down but still not out
I'll fight that fight and beat them all
staying stong and living on
thats the plan ..what could go wrong ?
Feb 11, 2011
Feb 11, 2011 at 6:46 AM UTC
The truth is you petrify me.
When I think of you,
A manic smile lights up my face.
A grin of terror.
Please do not be disheartened.
For I do love you.
But I have felt this way before,
It didn't end well.
I push myself to be able,
to show I trust you.
To open up, share my secrets,
dark and daunting.
You are the sun personified,
shining beyond you.
I am moonlight, mysterious
Glowing in the dark
You warm my heart with your smile
Just know I love you.
My smile may contain a flicker
But it's stong and true.
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 12:23 PM UTC