The end, like this;
Red colours and sirens
Handcuffs as I walk in
Moving to my cell
I heave a sigh of deep relief
Today my demons won
Tonight my exorcism will be complete
Officers and Wardens
Still unaware of my motive
Yet no rebuke, no chide…
May 11th I let it happen
Tears clogging my throat
That monstrous pain again
Dear Mom and Dad,
I did it.
I pull the trigger,
My Dog is dead!
-Soso.
This pissed off poet’s heart now resides
With the girl of green-blue eyes…
Her hair so blond he can only weep
With visions of it in his sleep
For his daily thoughts encountered doom,
As thoughts of her began to loom,
And cause his obsession it did grow
He bit her neck to let her know!
And she bites back, ain’t that cool?
He’s feeling like a drunken fool,
Falling fast, his brains on fire
Its burning up on Katie’s pyre
The perfect smile the beauty wore,
Shook the poet to his core,
Just a glance would make him moan,
He simply had to take her home!
And although this structure’s not unique
Fuck off with your dull critique,
For the girl of green-blue eyes
Is an angel in a girls disguise
I am a leafless tree.
Green is fading to grey with every day
That turns into minutes
And seconds;
Time is picking up speed and taking off.
I can’t follow,
I am busy counting numbers and pixels.
Absorbed by the monotonous sounds
I don’t raise my head towards the other pair of eyes;
It’s not looking at me anymore.
I see shades of blue directed elsewhere.
Longing for the past,
Reminiscing of the lost,
Of the useless.
The dreary air is crawling into the lungs
And greying me out.
I am pixelating.
Now you can’t tell me from the pixels
That I was so busy counting.
Sweet little girl with a teddy bear,
Standing almost naked on her porch
Eyes blue, perfectly round, large as dinner plates
Glimmering like jewels in the golden morning sun
I approach, smiling, leaning down to meet her eyes,
I ask her how’s life in her little world today
From her mouth comes the sweetest little voice
Telling me I’m a fucking asshole
it’s true what they say you know
about people.
those who never speak
have the most to say.
the ones who look the happiest
hold back the most tears.
the most kind and caring people
have experienced the most cruel and horrid things.
sometimes I sit and wonder
why?
what did we do to deserve this pain that gnaws at us with all of its being.
how did we get to this point of sadness that it feels as though we’re lying to every single person we know?
can it ever stop?
because I don’t know if I can smile through it
anymore.
There is no darkness when we want to see
There is no tiredness when our will wants to continue the road ahead
I have come to realized that years are days
And that a lifetime can be summarized in a short story…
I believed you were the one,
I believed we were meant to be eternal,
But you are just a short story…
You are just a day.
Marisabel Park, 2002
My head is full of fantasies,
They’re my escape from reality,
In my world there’s so much I can do,
Like run and laugh and skip and play,
Converse with people day by day,
But sadly all these things will not come true,
For my body doesn’t work so well,
My existence is like a living hell,
I cannot turn my head to see the time,
My legs don’t work, my arms don’t raise,
Medication keeps the pain at bay,
And I cannot talk but my hearing is just fine.
I’m not looking for your sympathy,
No, there’s nothing you can do for me,
Except feed and wash and care for me each day,
I never used to be like this,
My life was once so full of bliss,
Then a reckless fool took my world away,
Now I lay here in this little bed,
With thoughts of life flowing through my head.
And the constant bleep of monitors and machines,
As human voices come to me,
From far away in time and space,
Or maybe they’re just the echos from my dreams.
One day I know that I’ll be free,
Released from all this agony,
And the only thing that I can do is wait,
So I’ll watch the ceiling, see the shapes,
As the day moves on in its own slow pace,
And the nighttime seems to move even slower still,
But where there’s life I guess there’s hope,
And where there’s fire there must be smoke,
So the flames within my mind I’ll need to keep,
I’ll lay in hope of a miracle,
A forlorn wish?
Perhaps,
Who knows,
But I’ll fight until I drift into endless sleep.
Andrew Smith
A solar sliver flashes off the hanging chimes,
snow pockets fall from a maple squirrel highway,
imprints the ground, abominable foot.
Morning snares my nostrils,
detergent draped vapours,
and I wish for a warmer clime.
Playful chickadees squeak and scurry
while waves of flakes float by,
and in the glory of that subtle moment,
as smooth as a Van Morrison song,
free and easy like the saxophone wind,
the dark noises stopped.
copyright@pcapitano2020
Off in the distance, calling my name,
Is the river near whom sorrow came,
Silver and gold, to have and to hold,
The sheep is lost from the sacred fold.
Wandering and crying, sinning and dying,
What is this force with whom we are fighting?
Stronger than iron, yet under a spell,
Be careful lest he drag you down to hell!
Ensnared by the fall, every one and all,
Let us see Your refuge fearful and tall,
Though we are filthy, unworthy and dead,
Out to freedom the Perfect one has led.
Now we’re rejoicing, with one heart and voice,
The Lord has made an infallible choice,
To safe us sinners, wretched as we are,
And his Eden He won’t to us bar.
~Maggie Bryan
We’re at each others throats again,
Bickering over the small things,
I wish one of us would wave our flags,
But we’re both so close to firing our kill shot,
And our pride will drag this out until it dies,
A product of how I learned to loved,
Maybe it’s the only way I can express it,
And maybe it’s the only way you can tell I’m in,
All of me,
And you wage this war to know how serious we can make it,
Fighting, teeth and blood,
Ace in the hole,
We launch our attacks with no remorse for the thoughts gone into them,
Things about our past always find us in the present,
We can never let it go,
Not me, or you,
And we fire the bullets as a last resort, or just to keep the flame alive,
We’re bickering like children,
Someone please come save us from ourselves,
And let us down easy,
It’s too much, or not enough,
Maybe we need the war,
To keep this love in existence,Btu is the a love worth keeping alive?
I’m afraid to know the answer,
So I’ll fire my next shot,
And wait for you’re rebuttal.
Genre: Love, Life, Angst, Relationship, Drama, angst
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