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Titanic-Lover Aug 2013
If you didn't know my story,but saw me in a book,
You'd read my name and wonder,then take a second look.
A shadow of my former beauty,I've been ruined by many years,
The things that have happened to me always bring on many tears.
I do not hide my sadness,for it is fresh and always there,
As I wait here so very lonely in my sunless Atlantic lair.
My poor,proud body is rotting away,there is nothing I can do,
Except hope maybe one day,equality will be given me too.
I recall a sadness filled day within my lonely dark,
When a plastic cup came floating down,and on my tomb left a mark.
That was one of many times I would give up and cry,
For human cruelness hurt me so,I got this rather than 'good-bye'.
I do not hardly recognize myself anymore,I say it not to be vain,
I say it with truth and exactness,to my heart welled up with pain.
Some people truly love me,for them I'm truly greatful,
Others regard me as a rusty ship with eyes that bespeak hateful.
I cannot help what happened to me,they just don't understand,
I once had a heart adventurous that would lead a career grand.
My hopeful life was ended in the year of 1912,
And my dreams,visions and pride-filled youth to the bottom delved.
I was told that youth and beauty would get me far in life,
And with these assets I proudly boasted,I knew nonesuch called 'strife'.
Throughout the tumble and crash of waves rode my lean body's length,
I reveled many times over in my satisfying,thrilling strength!
****
On the evening tide of the 14th,I saw the iceberg  true,
A handsome,glittering,ethreal prince,what was a lonely girl to do?
I rushed as fast as could be allowed to greet this glacier born one,
Eager to introduce myself and rid forlornness akin to a ton.
But when I came up closer,my heart he did stab,
With that glittering,icy spellbinding look,'twas my start of being sad.
He tore into my body,bringing unsurmountable pain,
What was the purpose of such cruelty,what could he possibly gain?
And on the night my life ended,I travelled my beloved sea no longer,
Death so young,in such a way,could life be any wronger?
I hoped so much I would not perish in a life that did just start,
Yet hopes were banished by the truths of a rapidly weakening heart.
I tried to wait as long as I could to save my passengers dear,
But the ending for so many of us was soon becoming near.
I didn't want to say farewell to the things I did love so,
And yet time was running short,and I wanted them to know:

Olympic,my lovely sister,I hope your life is a promise true,
Of many voyeurs across oceans wide,a charmer you are too.
Treasure the sun's bounty that warms the evening's chill,
And know throughout your entire life,my love is with you still.
Enjoy the satisfaction of your beauty and strength even when in dock you sit,
For a day may come anytime,and a single moment end it.
Show the Captain you are bold-bold,lovely and free,
But do not toss caution in the spray thrown off the sea.
I trust you not to be lonely in travels near and far,
For my ghost is always with you,just look up at a star.
When days come to you and a disconsolate thought you may think,
Remember the unconditioning love of a sister who'd "Never Sink".
Remember my love at morning,remember it at night,
Remember it these coming days I will no longer be in your sight.
I love you,Fair Olympic,in wordless,heartfelt ways,
Your memory I shall treasure in my saddened,sunless days.

I rest on a sandy sea bottom,amongst accoutrements of life,
From an unforgettable day when I learned the meaning of strife.
The earth has covered the stab the iceberg in my side did maim,
But despite that all,the hurt in my heart did stain.
I relive in over and over,wishing it were just a dream,
Yet awaken to the truths to know,my broken funnels have no more steam.
The way I landed in this grave,I look like I shall sail ahead,
But,that is all a fantasy,my once-strong body is dead.
It will not go anywhere,today or ever again,
I am helpless to the trash that falls upon me from heartless men.
The ship that sail above me hold people bright and gay,
Who do not know the sorrows that were on a 15th of April day.
They sail on to their destination,thinking nothing of me,
Who haunts the very waves they ride on my beloved Atlantic sea.
They dream of their days ahead,cheerful and free of plight,
Disregarding any notion of a nightmarish Hadean night.
They dance,they revel and throw trash over the side,
Where it floats down eventually onto the Ocean's Queen who has died.
They do not know of an iceberg with a sinister,laughing gaze,
And who pleasured in so knowing he ended my happy days.
They do not know of terror,of the ocean flooding ones' heart,
They do not know suffering for a ship breaking apart.
They do not know the agony of bading goodbye,
To the sunshine and a beloved sister who would never,ever lie.
They stand aboard a breezy bow,above the white waves foam,
Knowing soon,within a few days,they will be going home.
They seem to forget I belonged somewhere once too,
My home wasn't supposed to be an ocean floor,far from the sky's blue.
They do not know I've loved,they do not know I've cared,
They do not know the pain in my heart,that in scrapping,my sister wasn't spared.
They are the people who have this phrase float off their lips:
"Olympic and Titanic ,they are little more than ships!"
You humans claim you hold a bond to those you love so dear,
How different is it for me,I ask,with my sister built so near?
There is so much out there for those to remember me,
But my poor,sweet sister is forgotten,plunged into ocean history.
When you recall me,try to think of her too,
Bring her alive within your heart,I leave it up to you.
Years have passed,times have changed,though down here it's the same,
I am still the great Titanic,though my bow no longer says my name.
Some people who have discovered me have been respecting and kind,
I shall never give up my secrets,but their visits I don't mind.
Then,there are others,who ravage me to know,
They steal my finery,what is rightly mine;how can they hurt me so?
Although I do not mind some visits,I am now accustomed to the dark,
For the lights they shine upon me are so horribly bold and stark.
I am now part of this sea for one-hundred and one years strong,
All stemming from an April night when the most horrible went wrong.
The rust that drapes off me,some people say are like tears,
And,partially they are,my dearest friend,of the sorrows of many years.
The ocean floor is somber,the ocean floor is cold,
All the more unpleasant for a girl who's growing old.
My song it is of truth,to show that life is not a game,
But,treasure it every minute you can,all the very same.
It may be pleasant,it may be sorrow,
But,hold close the day you live in,think not heavily of a 'morrow.
I thought I'd have a tomorrow too,as I sit here in my grave,
I had a tomorrow,yes indeed,but not in a life-filled way.
I rest under these bitter waves,a melancholy heart is mine,
A shadow of my former beauty,a ghost of the White Star Line.
In the Aprils of today,on the dancing surf above,
My soul rises up to haunt the sea I love.
My soul is not marred by tears,fright and rust,
Whole and in perfection,before my death it's just.
At the latitude and longitude of that long ago day,
I have stopped many a vessel,so,remember me that may.
The scrapping of my sister,the sinking of me,
Life ended none too kind for both Queens of the Sea.
Remember us,gay vacationers,as you gaze up at a cloud,
For Titanic and Olympic,death 'twas not proud.....

I rest under these bitter waves,
A melancholy heart is mine,
We are remnants of our former beauty,
We are the ghosts of the
WHITE STAR LINE...
This poem is dedicated to my beloved Royal Mail Steamship 'Titanic',and her more forgotten,yet beautiful sister,Olympic. Never shall the sea be host to two finer ocean liners.
Jay Dread Dec 2010
Life gives my stomach knots
Dread conquers my thoughts
I am weak, for I can take it no longer
As life goes on, it gets wronger and wronger

I look to the pills; I look to the bottle
They are kind and act as my throttle
Uppers and downers
My friendly encounters

People: my enemies
Hates and jealousies
They are all better than I could ever be
They have more than I could ever see

So what will I take today?
What will make these thoughts go away?
But they'll be back, just  like a pest
What I need is eternal rest
Copyright. Jay Dread. 2010.
these demons they haunting me,
they ******* won't stop bugging me,
they screaming in my ear, 'do it now'.
won't leave me alone, won't leave me alone,
why won't everyone just leave me the **** alone?

****, what am I saying? Am I ******* stupid?
I don't wanna be alone, this loneliness drives me mad,
but I push them away, pushing people away,
cause why? Cause I'm angry, cause I'm mad?
What the **** does it matter, why do I care?
Why am I this way, so weird and insecure?
When I look in that mirror, and I see that
face looking back at me, I just want to *******
grab it and slit its ******* throat.
Why am I so ugly? I don't ******* know.

these demons they haunting me,
they keep on stalking me, day and night,
they keep on leading me astray, oh,
won't I ever find my way back to where I was.
They won't let me alone, can't you feel my plight?
why do they do these things to me, why won't
they just leave me alone?

Demons, are they real, the **** should I know?
they may just be something sick like my head,
something dark and twisted brought to life,
by these worries and these fears that I made up my mind.
whether they be real or just ******* fake,
I know they make me wanna curl up and die.

these demons they haunting me,
in my dreams, they stopping me,
won't let me be, won't leave me alone,
won't let me be the person I know I can be,
won't let me be free to be what I know I can be.

And when I set my mind to racing,
I can feel my arteries thumping, and my heart pacing.
I'm gonna need a ******* pacemaker, at this rate,
cause all these fears and these worries going to build,
and one of these days, I'm gonna ******* blow,
all over everything and everyone, and y'all
be left to pick up the pieces of my broken soul.

these demons they haunting me,
I can hear those ******* laughing now,
at me and my self-conscious bull-****,
knowing that all this is just another ego-stroke
as I feel sorry for myself and wait to be comforted
by those people that want to call me their friends,
but really, I just seem them as means to ends.

Call me corrupt, or just call me a ****,
but I know that machiavellian ****,
my means are always justified by my ends,
know that I'm always right, even when I know
that I'm wrong, I keep on fighting like it's a war,
and I'm the ******* 5-star general,
that earth-rattling, world shaker who
the universe rightly revolves around
I ain't no Prince, I'm the ******* King!

these demons they haunting me,
they egging me on, telling me I'm right,
even when I'm wronger than wrong.
I know it's wrong, but it feels so good,
and I can't find it in me to argue
when the promise of righteousness feels so good.

And so I keep on playing the game,
arguing and fighting over petty ****,
desperate to prove my point like it matters,
feeling that high when I prove someone wrong,
it fills me, it thrills me, it's like a spine-chiller.
It's a ******* drug and you, the dealer,
but the way I'm feeling, like a high-wheeler.
I won't complain or say things should be different.

these demons they haunting me,
I can hear their ***** singing along,
I can hear their voices ringing real soft,
it sounds so sweet, but I got this feeling
deep down that maybe it ain't as good
as it sounds and there's something deeper lurking.

All it takes is one word alone, and I'm
shattered like broken glass, like I just got
put out on my fat ***. Cause I know I'm
fat and ******* ugly, you don't got to remind me,
mirror, I'd rather hide the truth.
And just like that the circle is running again,
like it's done time and time again.
A cycle of loathing, then a cycle of loving,
then a cycle of loathing, a cycle of loving.

these demons they haunting me,
not even caring that I'm onto them,
and those games they play, they just
keep on grinning, keep on sinning,
these jackals, they wanna bleed me dry,
they wanna consume, wanna swallow my soul,
like an anaconda, they wanna swallow me whole
why won't they just leave me alone,
so I can find some kind of inner peace?

Instead I just keep on rolling on that
hill like I was Sisyphus, and my ego's
the boulder, and every time I push it up,
I know it's gonna come down even stronger
It's like I gotta just deal with the fact
that when I'm happy, the sadness'll
strike about 10 times harder than it ought to,
like it was giving me a special '*******'.

these demons they haunting me,
I think they ******* hate me, but
who can really blame them? I hate
me too, and the ******* I can be,
the ******* I can be, the ***** I can be
when I let my jealousy get the best of me,
treating my friends like they out to get me,
Sometimes when I think back on how I act,
I just want to kick my own *** just to teach
me a lesson.

I try to be good, and decent, and think good,
and think decent, but I can't find it in me
to feel that heart beat-beating for me,
I just look in the mirror and I hate what I see,
I hate what's there, and knowing I'm stuck where I am.
Why I gotta be me? Why can't I be you, or someone
new or someone better? Or just a person who I know
is better than me? Smarter than me, nicer than me?
Kinder than me, prettier than me?
Why I gotta be stuck in this ugly *** ******* shell?

these demons they haunting me,
they taunting me like *******,
I don't know if it's in my head,
my mind playing those tricks on me,
or if they're really there to steal my soul,
but I know they keep tripping me either way,
I think I hate them more than I hate me,
and that's something to be said since I despise me.
They test me, they trick me, they want to end me,
and all I want is for them to get off my throne.
My throne of **** and wallowed pride, that's all mine,
for better or worse, I still want to claim it as mine.
Everyone keeps on testing me lately, human contact,
and I just want to be left the **** alone.
Can't everyone just leave me the **** alone?

Demons, who the hell am I kidding?
Satan himself knows I'm full of ****,
I'm just using them as an excuse to justify,
the kind of guy I am deep down, and to victimize
myself so I can throw out a line for sympathy,
and get that ego-stroke needed to get back in line,
and start that same wicked cycle back again,
hell, that's what all this is, just another me whining,
and complaining before I get high on me again,
at least that's what I say to myself to feel like I win
Pauline Morris Mar 2016
There was a caterpillar that had no friends
She feared she would be alone in the end
She had all, but given in

She stayed in a trees
And hid behind the leaves
Until she ate them, or there was a breeze

She had become so very fat
All the other insects made fun and spat
Out cruel words, she no longer wanted life and that was that

But before she could eat the poison leaf, along flew a hunny bee
"Hunny child you just dont see
That one day your gonna fly like me"

She looked at him in bewilderment
Surly his brain was a little bent
Wings for her would have to be heaven sent

But she decided to hold on a little longer
Just to prove he couldn't be wronger
That bee's words she would often ponder

The other insects still showed their hate
The more they said the more she ate
She knew they was right she'd never find a mate

So she made a cocoon, to hide herself within
So she no longer heard the words that could condemn
What awaited her would be hard to comprehend

The bee seen the cocoon, and sat and waited patiently
He wanted to be the very first to see
At what a beautiful creature she had came to be

When she emerged the sun hurt her eyes
Many a day had gone by
The sun seemed way to bright in the sky

But then she got a look at her wings, they where gray
"Why didn't God paint them, why are they this way"
At the bee in disgust she shouted, "You should of let me die that day"

"But my lovely one, you are now a creature of the night
And will fly by the enchanting moonlight
And see many many wonderful sights"

"Besides my hunny chid they're wings
You can now fly to the heavens and sing
Your point of view will now change on many things"

"God painted your wings gray
So in the bright of day
Against the tree bark you can lay
And safely sleep the day away"

"God only picks the strongest
To prowl in the moon lit darkness
He only picks the bravest
That at night can help with the loneliness"

The Moth bent her head in repentance
She couldn't even finish her sentence
For she realised in that instance
The bee was talking about her transcendence
Kyle Kulseth Oct 2012
The world ain't all stage--It's sad to say; but Billy Shakes
   He just could not be any wronger
   When he states what's right or wrong
   Or what could not be any stranger
   But, still, he wasn't fooled by hardened faces painted grey.

It's more like half of life's a stage
   with a few upon it dancing
   and they sweat and count their crimes
   and squeeze out gold from flesh of backs.

It's more like half the world's at audience
   billions crammed into one room
   and we sit in dumb amusement
   just well-fed enough to watch
      and growing number with each act
Pauline Morris Jun 2016
There was a caterpillar that had no friends
She feared she would be alone in the end
She had all, but given in

She stayed in a trees
And hid behind the leaves
Until she ate them, or there was a breeze

She had become so very fat
All the other insects made fun and spat
Out cruel words, she no longer wanted life and that was that

But before she could eat the poison leaf, along flew a hunny bee
"Hunny child you just dont see
That one day your gonna fly like me"

She looked at him in bewilderment
Surly his brain was a little bent
Wings for her would have to be heaven sent

But she decided to hold on a little longer
Just to prove he couldn't be wronger
That bee's words she would often ponder

The other insects still showed their hate
The more they said the more she ate
She knew they was right she'd never find a mate

So she made a cocoon, to hide herself within
So she no longer heard the words that could condemn
What awaited her would be hard to comprehend

The bee seen the cocoon, and sat and waited patiently
He wanted to be the very first to see
At what a beautiful creature she had came to be

When she emerged the sun hurt her eyes
Many a day had gone by
The sun seemed way to bright in the sky

But then she got a look at her wings, they where gray
"Why didn't God paint them, why are they this way"
At the bee in disgust she shouted, "You should of let me die that day"

"But my lovely one, you are now a creature of the night
And will fly by the enchanting moonlight
And see many many wonderful sights"

"Besides my hunny chid they're wings
You can now fly to the heavens and sing
Your point of view will now change on many things"

"God painted your wings gray
So in the bright of day
Against the tree bark you can lay
And safely sleep the day away"

"God only picks the strongest
To prowl in the moon lit darkness
He only picks the bravest
That at night can help with the loneliness"

The Moth bent her head in repentance
She couldn't even finish her sentence
For she realised in that instance
The bee was talking about her transcendence
Francisco DH Oct 2012
Do they see that she is barley holding ground
Desperately holding to the bars, putting on the strong face
But she really just wants to cry out loud

She has tired for three years
trying to be cal, trying to be brave
all the while holding back the tears

She can't hold on much longer
and it pains me that they don't see
The talk and act as if she dont mind
But they cant be any wronger

Do they see the blacked covered eyes
streaked with eyeliner once she finished
crying on my shoulder

Do they see that all the hurt all their lies
causes me to hate them as if they insulted me with ******

Do they see that it's stupid, dumb and awful
to cause anyone to feel this way
Do they see that it's stupid, dumb, and unlawful
to cause anyone this pain

But i guess the don't see
and carry on like nothing is wrong
leaving her with the question

Do they see?
This poem was for a friend who was going through a ruff time. She read it and she liked it
I'm the wronger

a wooden soul
destined to stoke for eternity

I better start smoking again
maybe the harder stuff  

to get my soul used to breathing in ash
my lungs will be black and caked full


chugging deer blood and bull
to erase
the feeling of me

you tell me I'm an un-thinker
superfluous thoughts of a prosthetic heart

I had a dream once
I was peeling
never ending oranges

pulling the skin from the sweet juicy
flesh
drops of tang slipping from my fingers

but never sinking my teeth into

orange suggests so many contrary things
trees indicate life
prosperity

but eating an orange means separation
illness

tie me down
batter me

I think it unwise
you chasing me

to the un-pearly gates
those burning barriers
you circumnavigate

while I will smell of citrus
for eternity
Eve K Aug 2021
One... Two... Three...
A burnt beard, cigarette in hand.... Snooze....
Four... Five... Six....
Things get hazy, a little confuse....
seven... eight...nine.....
The sense of fear, anxiety is lifted.....
This drink, this elixir, I've been gifted.....
Ten...eleven... Twelve.....
Nothing makes sense any longer....
Nothing could be wronger....
Stuttering... falling... can't remember....
The distance isn't here....
Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen
It doesn't matter any more.
Your brain isn't like it was before.
Doesn't matter, Can't feel. Don't even know if I ever was real.
Keep throwin back the magic elixir,
Not knowing it, no more liqour...

fifteen.. fourteen... thirteen...
darkness is starting to seep in
feeling the consciousness at the back, its sin.

Twelve... Eleven... Ten....
Looking around, noticing the little things
the uneasiness it brings...

Nine... eight... seven....
Things are clearer...
Sobriety creeping nearer.

Six.... Five... Four...
Palms sweaty; Heart racing; Eyes wide; frantic searching; Body purging; Blood pressure dropping; head swarming...

Three... two....One...
You're gone......
Arpan Rathod May 2017
My body aches for your touch
I miss it so much

Why can't I hold the anger longer
Yes, I was wrong, but you were wronger

Day by day,
I'm feeling less of a human
Please save me, my beautiful woman.
Dawnstar Feb 2018
Let my past be published now,
I care for it no longer;
Look between my righteous things
To see I was the wronger.
Gather all the worries
I'd fret about in winter;
Shove them off the highest cliff,
Make them crack and splinter.

Traipsing in the gardenside,
Dancing in the hollow;
Feeling for a mason's nook,
Sweet Amontillado.
Down within the castle walls,
Down among the relics;
Bearded faces line the halls,
Lilting in Goidelic.

Slowing pace to stop and smell
Of a strange antiquity;
Thinking on a silver day
That happened once in Brittany.
Countrymen with muskets bared,
Bent on fiery shot,
Pounced upon the zealous rogues
Of Napoleonic lot.

Wand'ring mind, drop your guard,
Stop your nagging ways;
Hark! the drap'ry's bold aura
Welcomes warmer days.
Happiness is fleeting,
Sadness is extinct,
So let my every passing thought
Be mindful and succinct.
Updated Jul. 15, 2019.
Arcassin B Jan 2015
By Arcassin Burnham

Search,

It took a Long time for god to show me
Who I really belong to,
I needed someone at the time to care for me,
That's when I stumbled apon you,
Beautiful eyes , and the pretty dreadlocks to match,
I was so in love,
I didn't think when we started I wouldn't become attached,
Little did I know the time would come,
Sitting here thinking to myself,
That we couldn't be friends any longer,
at least that was what I was thinking to myself,
Its ashame to know that i couldnt be more wronger,
Not in my nature to be mad at her,
I should have blame myself for everything that happen,
For dumb ignorant reasons that would occur,
Dominant with all the attackin',
Care for her in a long state of knowing her,
I was on my best behavior,
Wishing every night that me and her could rule the earth,
And I don't even wanna stay here,
The clock strikes 12 I remember her name,
With a sense of delicacy,
I search for a better way to love,
Hoping one day she'll be into me.
I was depressed when I wrote this , thinking about her again , ah why did I have to take melz side .....
Existing on what's aware and listening
Quiet before speaking and always glistening
Hearing words not spoken when others run a lot
Seeing all that's going on when most are not
She operates on a thin wavelength of beauty
Hard to find for those who are too busy looking
hard to feel for those wanting to wrap her up for a booking
She's precious and sensitive beyond a thought
Beautiful and expanding and will always be sort
Surprises you when you think she couldn't know
Smarter than everyone but she'll never show
Withstanding enemies with her thorns
Staying beautiful and never forlorn
Spectacularly present with unseen pedals
So soft so sweet but of the strongest metal
Always precious, always special, always artistic,
always talented, always the insight, always so deep,
In the face of all that couldn't be wronger
what doesn't **** us makes us stronger
Respecting what's so precious like the morning dew
Congratulations on the glory of YOU
Pauline Morris Mar 2016
There once was a man
That thought his member was grand
He called it the best in all of the land

He went from woman to woman
He said he was just checking their fluid

If your thinking he's a stud you couldn't be wronger
He's what my my grandpa would call a whoremonger
Parker Louis Jan 2015
The longest marriage ended on day 33,227
that's 91 years and 12 days in "Heaven"
But I think we could last longer
but love is a twisted story so I might have never been wronger
like Mary Shelly if I die silk wrap my heart
because we're like art
How come every great romance ends in tragedy?
like Romeo & Juliet I'll wait beneath your balcony
like Augustus & Hazel
I'll love you even as an angel
because love is fatal
like John & Yoko
I'll smile in every photo
like Kurt & Courtney
I'll sing for thee
like me & you
we're always down and blue
but you keep my skin white
not red
just because we wake up in the same bed
even if we're not wed
I don't care
but you can bet your *** people will stare
when I prove I'm still there
on day 33,228 gasping for air.
2/21/2013. I thought of writing this after learning the fact of how long the longest marriage lasted and converting it to days. I'm not sure if that fact is even accurate.
Joshua Haines Mar 2014
Thoughts provide internal expression in my external repression
Bring me your eyes, loved surprise, stay until sunrise, more honesty in lies
Violet past in the violent pass glances at me through the sky's glass
And it's hard to last, but worth it to show that I know, yes I know ever so sure
That you are mine, and I am yours

By the shore of the ocean of the golden crown of the sun
Do you remember when we were fun? Do you remember being new?
I was enthralled by myself, but more enthralled by you.
Now, in love so strong that God couldn't scoff if I were to slice wrist after wrist
If I had to stop you from all that is wrong in the suffocating mist
Of our parents, our friends, their lies, their ends
Influencing us because we're alone by ourselves
On a burning boat floating on a ocean containing whispers in seashells

And I remember you, the way I pushed my fingers through
Around and past your skin
Touching what was ours, but cascaded by the sin
Our parents decide to keep, and we try so hard to weep but we feel nothing more
The sugar in the sands of the seashore run so deep, and we lay and lose sleep
Missing out on dreams of us and money signs, on clothes and smiles, wherever
So I can love you forever

I get so scared in this place, so out of place, so many people that aren't people
Pretending to be doctors, lovers, gods, and human beings
Soft and free, could it be that we are drifting near any other home at all?
Shoes, pants, shirts, and skirts shaming our sweet shore. Is there any more?
Scandalizing scents scold sure souls soundly supplementing suffering sons
Profoundly, I look at you and search within myself to someone else
Because the words I say are stronger; lets stay out on the coast longer
Nothing could be wronger than living in a home on fire
So let me hold you close until I grow tired

On a body of moving life, is my heart ready for death?
I don't want to think of you dying at all
But someday you will die, and what have I
Some lonely nights and dreams we used to share
Until I watched that man drive into your passenger seat
And your head hit the dashboard
Your feet kicked underneath
As blood left your nose, I tried to be so close
To keep you from the hurt
To keep you close and safe
But the bone disagrees, and in forty five degrees
I watch your fingers grab at your face
Let me get closer as my heart will race
If I lose you I will fall, into a loveless call
That keeps me awake at night, and I'll scream into nothing
Asking for everything, now and please
Because my heart with you is at ease

Without you I would be left breathing through a tube
Eyes glazed with an 11:14 truth,
because I did remember you
In 2078, my heart will stay with you and break
As the nurse breaths my words, everything at stake
Her hand will clutch my shoulder, and my chest will crash into itself
Every book falling off the bookshelf at night
My rusted hands from left to right
That used to hold your hands up the street
So proud of you, I bragged to everyone we'd meet
I love her so, and if you don't know, with her everywhere I go
Love into another dimension or time, she is my heart, my reason, my rhyme
And I'll remember her, as the hurt digs ever so deep
Losing sleep until the time is gone, and I am done

Don't tell me it's okay
Don't tell me it's fine
I drag
the heart
that's torn apart
into a straight line
Viseract Jul 2016
Negativity hurts,
If anyone can tell you that it's me
Been through a lotta ****, especially recently
I can't get images of my ex outta my head
I tried to divide, conquer and hide
But I can't
So much pain
And I got nothing to gain from it
Except
Maybe learn your ******* lesson kid
Don't ever care for someone too much
So much you'd do anything
They lead you on and you think your strong
But you wrong
Try saying that ten times over
When she's gone
And she's gone
Left me alone
Friends with the enemy
Developing
Friendship
And injuring me

I think about it sometimes
It's why I cry at night
I stick around, head down,
Fighting the good fight
I metaphorically kiss my online friends
Goodnight
Whilst through the screen I'm saying
Goodbye

It hurts you know
Negativity gets to you
Puts you down faster than
A speeding car ever will
Or the feel of gravity
When you drop off the bridge
The noose around your neck
Tightening a little smidge bit
What doesn't **** you makes you stronger
Man that saying could never get any wronger
What doesn't **** you weakens you,
And if it does than your lucky
Don't have to stick around to be toyed with,
That little yellow rubber ducky

If you live than you'll die
They put you down when you try
And fail
So you look up at the stars at night
Why
Why is it no matter what you do
There's always someone to dis what you do
And never anyone there when they say they'll be
They leave and walk away as it happens, conveniently
They don't see me being punished
For sins I never committed

I get finished
I wake up everyday and go to school
Walk to my locker and get made a fool
They're everywhere
Just when you find peace
They make you realise it was never there
You deluded yourself to protect yourself
And you did so because no one was
No one was when you needed someone else

I tried all my life
All I ever wanted was good times
But now I have bad times
And it's half the reason I rhyme
This **** is history now,
Always be part of my lifeline
I just wanted someone
To help me make my life better
Yet it's reached the point that my
Trust is in a stranger
We know each other a little more since the start
Because I'm emotional and I cry when I pour my heart
Inside I die slowly, corrupted by words
The same words teachers said that could never possibly hurt
Some of us were built strong, others have to learn to dodge
Fly away, little birdy, fly away from the wrong

Well if I'm a bird I'm a **** penguin
I can't really fly but I swim through all your crap
And it gives me more reason to rap
Like I said, to rhyme
If speaking your heart is a crime
Put me in jail for the rest of my life
Just letting you know, it all hurts
P for Poems Sep 2015
Black, white and brown,
just a color not a sound.
inside were all the same,
" thats not true" others claim.
but we all have a heart a soul and a mind,
deeply inside were all kind.
A color shouldn't be the judge of who we are,
yet wars and fights leave nasty scars.
Were all human at the end of day,
so why make each other our personal preys,
Color shouldn't separate us but make us stronger,
those who are racist couldn't be any wronger.
#Against racism. #feel that color doesn't make a difference to what we can do or what separates us.
Pauline Morris May 2016
There once was a man
That thought his member was grand
He called it the best in all of the land

He went from woman to woman
He said he was just checking their fluid

If your thinking he's a stud you couldn't be wronger
He's what my my grandpa would call a whoremonger
David Flemister Aug 2015
You try to justify
That a high mind
Cant find a way
To understand the pain
Of another

Can't control me with guilt any longer
Because a high mind is no wronger
Than a sober one

If anything
When my brain is chemically altered
I'll have way more ******* sympathy for you
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
These are Christmas poems by Michael R. Burch. Some are darker Christmas poems and heretical Christmas poems.

The First Christmas
by Michael R. Burch

’Twas in a land so long ago . . .
the lambs lay blanketed in snow
and little children everywhere
sat and watched warm embers glow
and dreamed (of what, we do not know).

And THEN—a star appeared on high,
The brightest man had ever seen!
It made the children whisper low
in puzzled awe (what did it mean?).
It made the wooly lambkins cry.

Not far away a new-born lay,
warm-blanketed in straw and hay,
a lowly manger for his crib.
The cattle mooed, distraught and low,
to see the child. They did not know

it now was Christmas day!



Christmas Wishes
by Michael R. Burch

My wish for you, with Christmas near,
is troubles fleeing, fleet as deer,
and peace encompassing as snow,
bright merriment in brilliant flow.

I wish for you, with Christ’s Eve here,
a silver moon should skies seem drear,
white stars to light a festive sky,
sweet warmth caressing from on high.

I wish for you on Christmas day
a tree enchanted, festooned, gay . . .
and Christmas night, as carols play,
bright candles lined in white array.

But most of all, I wish you well,
and so much more than words can tell.
For this and every coming year,
Noel, Noel and Christmas cheer!




Late Frost
by Michael R. Burch

The matters of the world like sighs intrude;
out of the darkness, windswept winter light
too frail to solve the puzzle of night’s terror
resolves the distant stars to salts: not white,

but gray, dissolving in the frigid darkness.
I stoke cooled flames and stand, perhaps revealed
as equally as gray, a faded hardness
too malleable with time to be annealed.

Light sprinkles through dull flakes, devoid of color;
which matters not. I did not think to find
a star like Bethlehem’s. I turn my collar
to trudge outside for cordwood. There, outlined

within the doorway’s arch, I see the tree
that holds its boughs aloft, as if to show
they harbor neither love, nor enmity,
but only stars: insignias I know—

false ornaments that flash, overt and bright,
but do not warm and do not really glow,
and yet somehow bring comfort, soft delight:
a rainbow glistens on new-fallen snow.

I had Robert Frost in mind when I wrote this poem, and thus the title. Frost was fond of the word “arch,” and it’s here because of that fondness. The poem imagines him as an old man and a skeptic, but one who never really made a complete break from his childhood faith. The rainbow created by the “artificial stars” was not something I had planned ... in fact, I believe I wrote that line before I understood that the Christmas tree ornaments were creating the rainbow.



Merry Christmas, Happy New Year

by Michael R. Burch

Merry Christmas!
  Best of wishes!
    Hugs and kisses,
      Carolyn.
Don't do dishes
  or eat fishes.
    You're delicious,
      happenin'.
Happy New Year!
  Hope to see yer
    'round Springwater
       once again.
You're a treasure,
  such a pleasure
    (that's for sure),
      a **** friend.
Now I'm learnin'
  all 'bout yearnin',
    and I'm earnin'
      it, I guess.
I'll be stronger,
  live much longer.
    If I'm wronger,
      I’ll confess.
Had to tell you
  that you're swell; you
    ought to sell you
      for a mil.
If I could,
  I'd (knock on wood)
    be just as good.
      I never will.
Still, I love you,
  thinking of you;
    I eschew to
      tell you why.
If you're ever
  in the market
    (or hard up)
      just call this guy.



King of the World
by the Child Poets of Gaza, an alias of Michael R. Burch

If I were King of the World, I would make
every child free, for my people’s sake.

And once I had freed them, they’d all run and scream
back to my palace, for free ice cream!

Why are you laughing? Can’t a young king dream?

If I were King of the World, I would banish
hatred and war, and make mean men vanish.

Then, in their place, I’d bring in a circus
with lions and tigers (but they’d never hurt us!)

Why are you laughing? What else is a king’s purpose?

If I were King of the World, I would teach
the preachers to always do as they preach;

and so they could practice being of good cheer,
we’d have Christmas —and presents—every day of the year!

Why are you laughing? Some dreams do appear!

If I were King of the World, I would send
my counselors of peace to the wide world’s end ...

But all this hard dreaming is making me thirsty!
I proclaim Pink Lemonade; please bring it in a hurry!

Why are you laughing? Mom’ll make it in a flurry!

If I were King of the World, I’d declare
a year of happiness, with no despair—

only playing allowed, for my joyful subjects!
Not a toy left behind! Repair all rejects!

Why are you laughing? Surely no one objects!

If I were King of the World, I would fire
racists and bigots, with their message so dire.

And we wouldn’t build walls, to shut people out.
I would build amusement parks, have no doubt!

Why are you laughing? Should I use my clout?

If I were King of the World, I would drive
a red Ferrari, like no man alive!

But behind would be busses for my legions of friends:
we’d party like maniacs; the fun never ends!

Why are you laughing? Hop aboard! Let’s be friends!

If I were King of the World, I would make
every child blessed, for my people’s sake,

and every child safe, and every child free,
and every child happy, especially me!

Why are you laughing? Appoint me and see!



White Hot Christmas
by Michael R. Burch

I’m back from my jog;
it felt like summer
on Christmas Eve.
What a ******!
Forget the sleigh, Santa,
hire a Hummer.



Christmas is Coming!
alternate lyrics by Michael R. Burch

Christmas is coming; Trump’s goose is getting plucked.
Please put the Ukraine in his pocketbook.
If you haven’t got the Ukraine, some bartered Kurds will do.
But if you’re short on blackmail, well, the yoke’s on you!

Christmas is coming and Rudy can’t make bail.
Please send LARGE donations, or the Cause may fail.
If you haven’t got a billion, five hundred mil will do.
But if you’re short on cash, the LASH will fall on you!



Trump puts the X in Xmas
by Michael R. Burch

Christmas is coming; the Trumpster’s purse is flat.
Please put a billion in Fat Cat’s hat.
If you haven’t got a billion, five hundred mil will do.
But if you’re short of cash, well then, the yoke’s on you!



Trump’s Christmas Shutdown
by Michael R. Burch aka “The Loyal Opposition”

The Grinch is quite proud of his friend Trump tonight:
To see Whoville shut down? “An enormous delight!”

And old cranky Scrooge approves of Trump’s whims:
“Who the hell cares about all those dark Tiny Tims?”

Meanwhile in the Kremlin a ***** glass clinks
As a pale being smiles at his latest hijinks:

“Merry Xmas to all my AmeriKKKan friends
As the bright lights go out and democracy ends!”



Economical Fall
by Michael R. Burch  

The time to make love is autumn;
so kiss your sweethearts (if you’ve got ’em).
Seek ways to keep warm
but observe this norm:
by Christmas be sure you “forgot” ’em!



Yet Another Unmerry Xmas Poem
by Michael R. Burch

the Shepherds should have tended flocks
of sheep, and not become them.

the Wise Men should have used their heads:
religion numbs and dumbs them.

the Angels should have saved their praise
for saviors who can save us

from ludicrous superstitions
and Profits who deprave us.



What happened to compassion;
did it go out of fashion?
Or do Jesus and his Profits
prefer to line white pockets
and colorize dockets?
—Michael R. Burch



Malpractice

by Michael R. Burch

“He needs a new nose,”
Ma said, “suppose—
one that glows!”

The doc agreed
and worked with speed
on Santa’s steed.

The surgery done,
Ma told her son—
“It’s posh, and fun!”

But Rudolph wheezed
and cried and sneezed
with disbelief.

“It should’ve been red!”
the reindeer said,
pale and distraught in his hospital bed.

“Doc, what did you do?
Alas, boo-hoo!
It’s K-Mart-special chintzy blue!”



What Would Santa Claus Say?
by Michael R. Burch

What would Santa Claus say,
I wonder,
about Jesus returning
to **** and plunder?

For he’ll likely return
on Christmas Day
to blow the bad
little boys away!

When He flashes like lightning
across the skies
and many a homosexual
dies,

when the harlots and heretics
are ripped asunder,
what will the Easter Bunny think,
I wonder?

Published by Lucid Rhythms, Poet’s Corner and VYBRANÉ PREKLADY BÁSNÍ Z ANGLICTINY, where it was translated into Czech by Vaclav ZJ Pinkava

“And I will **** her children with death; and all the churches shall know that I am he which searcheth the reins [kidneys] and hearts: and I will give unto every one of you according to your works.” (So much for grace according to Revelation 2:23, where Jesus, or someone putting words in his mouth, vows to personally ****** specific children living at the time for their mother’s sins! To make matters even more macabre, one of the “sins” Jesus vows to ****** children for is eating foods offered to idols, which Saint Paul, author of most of the New Testament, said was fine and dandy! According to the gospels, Jesus himself said that Christians could eat anything they liked, because they were not defiled by what they ate. Was Jesus a murderous Indian Giver, or were the writers of the Bible making things up to suit their beliefs?



A Child’s Christmas Prayer of Despair for a Hindu Saint
by Michael R. Burch

Santa Claus,
for Christmas, please,
don’t bring me toys, or games, or candy . . .
just . . . Santa, please,
I’m on my knees! . . .
please don’t let Jesus torture Gandhi!

Published by Philosophical Percolations and The HyperTexts

Will Jesus Christ cause or allow Albert Einstein and Mahatma Gandhi to be tortured in an "eternal hell" for guessing wrong about which earthly religion to believe? What about Jesus's parable of the Good Samaritan, who put aside religious differences to practice compassion? Did Jesus, who saved all his sternest criticism for hypocrites, talk the talk but fail to walk the walk himself? Or did Christian theologians get something very, very wrong? And what would Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny say about such intolerance and infinite cruelty?

Keywords/Tags: Christmas poems, Christmas day, baby, Jesus, manger, crib, Bethlehem, Star of Bethlehem, star, lambs, children, cattle, oxen, donkey, straw, hay, Mary, Joseph, shepherds, wise men, Magi, Santa Claus, Easter Bunny, Jesus Christ, Revelation, homosexuals, harlots, Christianity, heaven, hell, salvation, Gandhi, Hindu, saint, knees, kneeling, prayer, mercy, compassion, grace, toys, games, candy

Keywords/Tags: Christmas, day, lambs, star, children, baby, Jesus, manger, crib, cattle, oxen, straw, hay, Mary, Joseph, shepherds, wise men, Bethlehem
Andrew Rueter Sep 2020
On a garden tree of hardened leaves
slithers a centipede anemone
claiming to be a friend of me
sprouting wings splendidly
flying to the Nth degree ahead of me
until I can no longer see
where the wronger flee
behind a Chris Pronger screen
giving me the stronger steam
to bomb the seed.
Aliq Sep 2020
Intro:
Come here, baby. Don't afraid.
You're not hurt... Huh... Maybe...

Bridge I:
It's all your fault, and don't you dare make excuses,
I did not have enough weeks to read all your abuses!
I used to see you on one of the fashion cover,
And now you're here. You're just trapped lover!

Verse I:
When I saw you in the last time you walked with cheap *****!
But today you kissed some lad in a midday, at lunch.
I don't wanna know what happened,
I just want you to repented!
But... F--k! Who are interested by you in except me?! Huh?!

Verse II:
No, you're not acting. You went mad and shouted at me, you saying: "Uh,
Don't bring me down, I'm cool! I still love you!"
I believe in you. Evidently, in vain. However, all as always...

But now, it's the first day of the rest of your life. Get ready for endless fall!

Chorus:
Come back here. Come, lovely dear,
Don't look back, come into my arms,
Henceforth you don't feel the fear.
Without lies and drams...
You're my prey, my handsome groom,
My prince, my prize of Marbell Hall,
Thou shalt always fed and warm.
'Cause now - you're my best doll!
Aw... I'm getting stronger...
Aw... I can not wronger...
Now you are my slave and gofer,
Trapped lover!
Aw... It's so amazing!
Aw... I'm going crazy!
We are one, I think it's over...
Trapped lover...

Bridge II:
Evidently, I get chocked and I can't breathe again,
I let you hurt me. Now I feel so much pain...
You're my failed one and my extinguished TV star,
I hate you, but I'm sad and hard when you're so far...

Verse III:
Your manners enrage me, your musical tastes disappointing
Your appearance causing tears, and your thoughts are disgusting.
You're trying to be a hero, but always prefer to cover,
So now you're here. You're just trapped lover!

Verse II:
No, you're not acting. You went mad and shouted at me, you saying: "Uh,
Don't bring me down, I'm cool! I still love you!"
I believe in you. Evidently, in vain. However, all as always...

And all over again. And yet, as always. You remember these lines!

Rap:
There's no point in wasting time trying to cajole me,
You fu--ed up in full, it's a failure, do not you see?
I've had enough! But before I leave definitively,
I'll get all full! I'll destroy you! Oh~!!!

Chorus:
Come back here. Come, lovely dear,
Don't look back, come into my arms,
Henceforth you don't feel the fear.
Without lies and drams...
You're my prey, my handsome groom,
My prince, my prize of Marbell Hall,
Thou shalt always fed and warm.
'Cause now - you're my best doll!
Aw... It's so amazing!
Aw... I'm going crazy!
We are one, I think it's over...
Trapped lover...
Spades Apr 2018
I don’t understand why it’s so hard for me to let go of something I never had
The number of poems I write, the number of crying nights, the number of battles I fight you would think that I remember a sight

of her

Though her life went dark when I first saw the light
Her life was taken away against my right
I’m sure a life as lonely as mine was never in her mind
And no matter how hard I tried to be happy the fire inside me always died
Maybe my life would be different if the sun of my world shined

I refuse to be part of this cruel game of life any longer
Maybe my fate would be different if I was a little stronger
But the pain that I’ve been forced to live through  is something I refuse to longer suffer
Postponing the inevitable has never been wronger
Because there is nothing worse
than to never see your very own mother
I always find myself writing about her again and again. I really don't understand why I do.
46n8 Dec 2016
I remember when I first felt the warmth of your brain;
The illuminating light that came from those pulsing electric tendrils of grey matter and the utter comfortability I felt when yours collided with mine and tiny nuclear bombs went off all over my skin leaving me with goosebumps everytime you spoke.
As we lay in fates womb,
Before we were aborted,
I couldnt help but know I wasnt worthy.
I still am not,
Alas,
This is a different life anyway, for a different person.

My mind dresses you in the colors of fall and my heart smiles at the image.
Your dark hair falling down over a rusty orange sweater and the olive skin on your hands peeking out from the sleeves.
I often wonder if maybe I read the whole thing wrong.
That you were as into me as I was into you.
But the night we lay there,
And I lay in awe,
Literally prone to your beauty,
And I built up the gaul to bring my lips to yours and yours sat still,
I felt the wronger.
I felt as though I was treading waters you hadnt mapped,
That this wasnt in your itinerary.
So I backed off,
Shock turned to sorrow,
Sorrow was slain by shame and shame fell to sourness and I stamped out most all the flames around us.
But I kept one and will keep it always,
It burns forever a still image of you,
Smiling, looking up at the night sky,
Random nameless decrepit buildings all around us and a spotlight of warmth and connection and humanity in the middle of it all.
Cormac Mar 2018
I'm sorry
I thought I was stronger
Should have waited longer
Couldn't have been wronger.
Nomad Jul 2018
What the songs of Solomon meant
when he sang the songs he made for his lovers and wives
a touch so unique, a touch that changed lives.

What it feels to be loved
but still feel so empty inside
like giving your keys to someone else
and you're just there for the ride.

What it feels like to be needed
but if only for a moment longer
to have that moment of ectasy
but couldn't feel any
wronger.

— The End —