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Jump to a specific poem by choosing from the drop down list below....and Please do not reproduce these poems in any form without permission of the author. by Forgottenson BRINGS GRIEF AND BROKEN HEARTS WE CRY WHEN WE KNEW FROM THE START LIFE ENDS JUST AS QUICK AS IT BEGINS WE GET LEFT ALONE AS COLD AS THE NIGHT'S WIND TIME AND TIME AGAIN, OUR HEARTS FALL AS LAST AS A PIN WHY DO WE GET LEFT WITH ALL THE TRAGEDY? MAYBE BECAUSE GOD IS MAD AT ME! IF SO PLEASE LET ME MOVE ON WITH YOUR STRENGTH AND HIS SPIRIT I WILL BE STRONG IF THERE IS ONLY ONE WAY TO LIVE THEN LET IT BE BUT PLEASE GOD DONT BE MAD AT ME!! Your time to go By Forgottenson IT SEEMS IT WAS YOUR TIME TO GO. EVERYONE MISSES YOU HERE, BUT OUR MINDS CONTINUE TO GROW. MY HEART PUMPS TO THE WAVE OF YOUR MEMORIES, THINKING OF WHERE MY FUTURE WILL SEND ME. AS TIME PAST WE THINK OF YOU AND YOUR LOVE, ALTHOUGH IT WASNT SAID MUCH AND THERE WASNT MANY HUGS. YOU MADE ME GROW UP CLOSE TO MY COUSIN, NOW I KNOW WHY YOU ALWAYS TAUGHT ME TO LOVE HIM. YOU DUG A DEEP PLACE IN MY HEART, AND THERES NO ONE IN THIS WORLD THAT CAN TEAR US APART. Mail Forgottenson To Doreen for our Second Hanukkah by Howard Wesminster and Venice is our Olympus like Zeus' sky. Queen, sister, and friend she is my Hera, God of our home. Pie, cake and kugel maker. Pelican Point posed possibilities, that rocky beach, A Poseidon earthquake of love grew in fertile fields Of Demeter. Creative mind like a castle, built like Troy, with more wisdom than Athena, she nursed me to health after her Cumberland Christmas, Like Apollo she protected me from my prophecies of doom. Condoms, pills, prophylactics, and forced potty training kept Childbirth of Artimites away. Her comics, My astrology in the newspaper, our late night blue films Cooled our clashing zodiac, turning war to peace Against the wishes of Aries. We forged a sexual passion Hotter than any fire of Hephistos With more variety than Sodom and Gomorrah, we trained To enter the world of Anne Rice's "Sleeping Beauty." Her coquettish powers have seduced me more than Helen or Aphrodite ever could. My hedge against suicide, like Hermes, a companion In all my travels, except with the U. C. L. A. Band With our thousand toasts to Dionysus. 4th of July-For Doreen's Birthday By Howard Doreen and I stand on our balcony watching fireworks above our heads, above the Santa Monica Pier. My second favorite holiday next to Halloween Flames desires, the free fans of floating fire, Starry skies remember the past. Choir of emotions in crowds of spectators see dismal recreations of past glory, war, desires for more fear. Do we remember the fight for freedom, dire struggle to create our country? No, now pyromania makes eyes pop out our of heads drooling at the burning of the past, leveling of ideals, traditions, freedoms in our transient moment of happiness no meaning anymore. Except Doreen and I came close, comfort craning to feel the concussion of love crushing our souls, raining skies of flame Her Birthday cheers tie today to happiness 26 years of toil to find a hug as good as mine. Howard's Webpage Mail Howard Fallen General By Kyrend Art full of amber how quickly you rose bypassing pains written in prose oh how they love you those fools with no hearts they twitch their last breaths while you eat your tarts thought to be iron with white golden trim you coat your smile with something more grim oh many have fallen and turned into dust oddly it's you who's armor won't rust The serene innocent look of she who is so fair draws your heart to where you don't dare she held you one moment and drank you the other beaten into a world that's far from together Adopted Teddy Bear by Kyrend I see hills, I see grass in dead colors, with much crass Fog not of water, but of war limits my vision, that of horror Deny my eyes, hang my breath singing songs, lined with death Glossy eyed childern, lost their hue in twisted trots, without a clue Paying for delight, in silver bills in the land, where angels make deals In such darkness, hold me tight I'll love you back, with all my might Kyrend D'Mortrius homepage Prelude by Meg D Let me tell you a story. Let me tell you how I sank, And began this slow descent into the very realm I had been dreading (Dreaming) In nightmares, cruel fantasies, Wake up! Wake up! grab my wrists, make sure they're not flowing That dark course of blood, only begun to elude me (Delude me) Paints my vision red and brown. Let me tell you, forever fair one, Everlasting dark one, About that black sight, encircling my head in cold lover's arms. Ah, but as you would say, "Fear talking, fear talking," So let me tell you about the practical. Look at a clock and realize: Only seven more hours til I have to begin the whole fucking thing all over again Or how I'll never be warm, no matter how hard I try, Or that I will bear your single, malignant child. Oh, let me tell you. Yes, fear talking, fear talking, But I always listen, Because sometimes there is more truth there than in all the gods, And in all the scrolls, And in all your precious logic. No, no! Sit there and listen! I will tell you, and you will listen, To my fear talking And if, when I'm done, you leave me here spent With your seed growing black and gangrenous Then it is your delusion. Because my filth has been expulsed My blood has been washed white And clean wounds bear the only testaments to my night terrors. My fear has ceased talking, but yours never will begin. So, oh, let me tell you. Joseph by Meg D Runs, slips, falls, Kisses me like a sister, why couldn't she be more Than this Joseph? Hey, my chaste spouse, You been fooling around away from me? But I want to see... I'd like to get some of that poison blood on my hands, Lick it off. Call me Lestat if you will Just don't call me baby-names. Dance with me, dance with me, My purest prostitute, desirous of mine, Covet me, covet me, Include me in your slow burn out. I'll run wth you, run with you, When you ask me to. Pavement was always a better friend. Down on my knees in the rain Open my arms and scream at the spread heavens Til you came, and knocked me over. Oh, my Joseph, my inviolate vixen, Years upon years of temptations. Leave Jesus at home for the night. Bleed on me, bleed on me, Fear not, like the angels say. Call me Mary if you will, At least they had a chance to be more. I never dance anymore Mail Meg D No title by Oriana We talk with shallow interests You look past me to the people across the room I am thinking about someone else The smile on your face has been rehearsed a thousand times Your eyes give you away Don't play me for the fool For I know the game you play Am I just another pawn Do you see me as a trophy Look into my eyes, and see what it's like to know your type Feel my embrace But no Don't believe For when I hug you it is only to see the people across the room... No Title by Oriana Love makes us cry Hold me in your arms one last time Let me share your last breath For without you I am nothing Crying alone in the darkness, waiting for you to embrace me I'm waiting, were are you I have never been so slone I have never had to face the world without your hands over my eyes Why can't you come back my love Is heaven so much better without me This cold cruel world cares nothing for me I am a shadow in the street I remember when you used to tell me I was the only one Now I need you to comfort me I am scared, Ireach out The cold wind whips across my face Their is no other way than down Catch me my love for I am falling Falling for you all over again............ Oriana Mail Oriana You Can't Deny or Can you? by Patricia Champagne and brandy skyline lifted, somehow, to the eagles entering as peppercorns, wings streaming to take-off hearts. The inviting distance of votive, affirming inceptions being commissioned by the creators of such; implanting the senses again only way in, to the real knowing. With whirlgigs of freshness spreading on the gingham joy, upon a composed earth, for now. Who comfort in it; a placemat of appreciating the reality of its execution daily. Leave the tunnel-visioned, fermenting, mug shots to scoop up into the natural divine spirit, of immortal sustenance always on tap. As we get better in refining our tastes, or not. What is now; that has evolved from it. Dibs on the Journey by Patricia Kind of masterful on the cuff looking in, through the worm hole of time, quite a task a history of one, and the many foresting a path. Being first or last or the middlemen of its chosen execution, but always it shows. How everything still lays in green pastures or not. The impression sign, sealed and delivered, left up to the ones and its holdings, of revolving feelings, that they will be there, maybe, up or down but always for the grabs. Making statements to its effect or affect, the aspiration gets performed in some way, and you still won't know till when? Patricia Fritsche's Webpage Mail Patricia Dark Paradise by Ridley Bright colourless images Most of the city waste fields Flashing, twisting, throbbing Behind close eye shields. Fortresses made of paper Crowns made of rags. Countries out of drugs Treasures out of garbage bags. Eyes, face, souls Refusing to contain light. Nothing shines through the dirt As Day flees from Night. Street corners, whore corners, Selling their worthless selves, Street needles, venom needles, Waiting for night's lost elves. And there I crouch, broken. No name, no past, no spirit. Now slave to the shadows, The Devil, I do not fear it. For I am no longer human. I awake in my home. Full of securities that hold. Yearning for those city waste fields That would never leave me as cold. Apologies by Ridley I'm sorry if my voice Is too loud. I'm sorry for not Having exciting tales To tell. I'm dreadfully sorry That I do not entertain. I'm sorry if I seem Concerned, Occasionally worrying when Dreams become Sweet smelling smoke, When memories begin To smolder. Wash it down with another vial of poison, And hide from another day. I'm sorry for not being normal. I'm sorry if I do not understand, If I believe humanity is being human. I'm sorry that I do not rage, That I listen and not turn away. Maybe next time. As as I looking into your eyes, At brief glimpses of a wondering child Being enveloped in new beginnings, Or endings, I'm sorry. So terribly sorry That I cannot change, That I cannot form the Sounds you wanted to hear. Oh, and my dear friend, When the world giggles gleefully In hatred, And parades with colourful streamers In self-absorbtion, I'm sorry if I seem to be quiet, If I can't sum up the Strength to smile. So very sorry. Ridley's Webpage Mail Ridley Paradox by Robert I've seen the violence of silence, and the calm before the storm. An enigma to many, but really quite the norm. I've known poor men that are wealthy and sick men who are healthy, Ugly people who are beautiful and barren trees be fruitful. I've been so exhausted I'm exhilarated, and so lacsidazical I'm debilitated. I've Seen the servant be the master and fortune turn into disaster. I've been to the brightest city, perhaps when it was the darkest I've seen tremendous beauty especially when it's the starkest. I try and live every minute, but die a little everyday. Everybody's screaming and I don't understand a word they say. Amid the paradoxes of life, and between joy and strife I find that the opposites hold the secrets of life. On the Edge by Robert In life and nature one thing is true Living on the edge gives the best view. Take sunsets and sunrises for a perfect cue, Look at the horizon, most beautiful hue. Where steep canyon wall meets soft forest floor, Where watery blue ocean meets rocky hard shore, Where unknown threshold meets wide open door, These are places where my spirit will soar. Journeys beginning and journeys end, Around the corner, around the next bend, Autumn, Spring! Seasons when they rend. At these edges, most time do I spend. Boy to manhood, he is on the verge Hormones rage and feelings surge. On the edges where these things merge It is here we have our strongest urge. But it is the very biggest unknown brink, The thought of: "into the grave we sink." An edge from which most quickly we shrink But actually, it is the most beautiful link. Mail Robert My Love by Rod My love for you is deep and strong, you make me feel good even when I know I have been wrong. My love for you is deep and true, I cherish every second with you. I love you at work and in the early hours of Morn, I have never loved anyone as I do you. I dream of you night and day, your gentle touch and thoughts fill my day. I will cherish and love the tenderness and happiness you bless my life with. I am half but not whole, you touch my very soul. You are my Sun and shade my light warm rain, you are all the things that please me so, I will keep you forever and never let you go. Through bad and good, we will hold on tight and keep the love we feel inside. I will never make you cry, I will always be by your side. In your hour of need or distress, lean on my chest. I will always be there for you. For my love is deep and true. Life has its sorrow and pain, but then you meet someone who makes all that change. You are my lady, My soul desire, I will love you for hours. I need your soul and sweet tenderness to make my life complete Bliss. You are my all and everything , without you there would be only Winter and never a Spring. When I hear birds sing I picture your voice urging me onward to make a choice. Shall I face the world, and all its misery . Or should I stay home beside thee. No matter what it takes we will be togetrher for as long as it takes to truly experience love in all its slendor. I am yours, you are mine now and forever till the end of time. Listening Post Listening Post Lying here all alone throughout the night, all is still haven’t seen a sight. Dawn comes and the morning fog hugs the ground. Can’t see anything. but suddenly hear sounds. Is it my relief, or is it the enemy. I pull back into the Jungle, careful not to stumble, or give my position away. Long, endless minutes pass, I peer through the Elephant Grass. The Sun burns the fog from the ground, there not ten yards away lies my relief, sleeping a final, and endless sleep. I crawl to him and drag him to cover, I think about the senseless tragedies of war. I think of his friends and Mother, maybe he even had a lover. Now that we are both concealed, I face the long endless day alone and afraid. I wonder will I die or will I be saved. Then very weary, and sleepy, I see night approach, just another night at my Listening Post. Dedicated to : Lost comrades of the 101st Airborne Division. Rest well. Uncivilized Civilization By Shane Cuhlan Society today I spit on you. You have no thought you have no view. You shun the wise, punish the good. Munch on their souls like they're your food. Society today you sicken me. You don't even try to be free. You're born freed, you die freed. You live like a prisoner in between. Society today you make me sad. You view creativity as bad. Anything different must be horrific. Stupid, pathetic, hopeless, satanic. Society today you make it hard. For artists to make money with art. Celebrate the boy groups. Praise the theives. Shun us punks like we are freaks. Forget I sit in my Lay-Z-Boy wondering Wandering through the Universe’s mysteries. Wondering through the long, long night. I turn to God and ask Him, “What’s the answer?” I expect no reply. I get none. Suddenly a feeling of amazment overtakes my fancy. I look at my hand and think about the mysteries it holds. A feeling overtakes me of dread. Foreboding greater than the fish in the sea. Danger more than the power of a star. What if we knew the cure for cancer? Might the antichrist have cancer? I sit and wonder and wander. I feel my way through my thoughts. ... I am lost in my own mind. I am hopelessly changed. I’ll never come back to what I was. ... I am lost in my own mind. I am hopelessly changed. I’ll never come back to what I was. ... I feel as if I know nothing. ... For days I try to clear my head. ... I realize that I know everything. I know the darkest depths of Hell. I know the thoughts of my enemies. I know the fears of my children. I know everything I never wanted to know and more. ... I know God. ... I ask for the cure for this horrid plague. I plead for forgivness and He delivers. I wake up in my bed, trying to remember my dream. It had to do with a boogey monster and the Devil. Oh well. ... Some things were meant to be forgotten. Mail Shane |
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SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY BY LORD BYRON She walks in Beauty, like the night One shade the more, one ray the less, And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
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