Our daughters wedding day
I sit here as the tears stream down my face In two weeks our baby girl will take on a husband You won’t be here I know you will be watching with pride why did you have to go and die Our daughter will dance with our son Our son will be the
Hill of stones
Written as a woman who has lost her male lover - I wondered if I could write a sad poem, hmmm handkerchief please, never again!
On Reflection
I wrote this poem in a particularly painful period in my life. I hadn't paid much attention to myself for many years and one day I just looked in the mirror and this poem sprung to my mind
The Day of Infamy
Lest we forget this day of infamy
Undying love
Know who you love and who you love..let them know!
Schizophrenia. ( Owed To Tom.)
A good friend's life. lost, to a world of Schizophrenia.
A wonderful walk with Cafe
Our beautiful friend. He and others know. xx
The Divine Miss Amphlett
Just like to pay tribute to Chrissie Amphlett who passed away the other day .........She shone a light in my life .......and brought a lot of joy to lot of people ...........R.I.P
Walking Shadow
To quote the Bard: "Life is a walking shadow." Recent events have inspired me on this one.
RIP: To Cafétwo2010 with Love
Though I only come here now and then and have lost touch with many of you for the years I have been away;times like this brings us together!. I just got back from NZ and Hawaii and Nu told me our Cafe Jim has passed away! I knew my husband won't joke about death but somehow it just wouldn't sink in. Jim embodied this corner; I see him as one of the main pillars of this platform. He was a constant presence and source of encouragement to many of us. As much as I avoid coming here now;his passing brings back memories of the days when I spent a lot of time here pouring my hurt and pain and the people who accepted and made me feel at home. This corner gave me a second home and poets like Cafe made me feel safe and welcomed! I wrote my tribute to Cafe the way I see him; how he was able to reach out to everyone and what he stands for. he maybe physically gone but his presence in many of us will live on! Just like many of you hope; may his family consider publishing his writing. I apologize to those good poet friends I failed to mention in here; I had to write this in between chores and mentioned names as they popped out in my head at the moment. I think Jim and I probably joined PC about the same time...he may have been just a tad earlier...so surely he will live a big void in here and to all the poets he has connected and whose lives he has touched! Rest in Peace dear friend and poet!
Ships in the Night (To Cafe)
For the years that I've been on here, I have crossed swords with some and had agreeable chats with others. Jim was certainly of the latter. He wrote from the heart and I suspect typified that honest American, no nonsense ideal. He was the genuine article. You could see that from his poetry. I'm saddened to hear that he is no longer with us. We all tread that tightrope. Fond memories dear Cafe.
SINGLE
SINGLE… Single to hold single to write single to live ,single to type single to eat to sleep to bear to wake up alone with whom to share? Single to breath single to scare single to carry,single to bed And single moment of despair has single e
Regrets and Gratitude
Went on a poetry- writing hiatus for over 2 years so feeling like a stranger to both poetry writing and the poets in the corner now. I hope there are still poets here of my days...it would be nice to hear from you all again. Our furry friend was put down this weekend due to his failing health. I didn't think his passing away will move me as much as it did. Nothing much has stirred me in the past three years that's enough to help me find the courage to try writing again.
No More..........
For my old mate " Buck " a beautiful big boof headed red English Staffy ..........
'Farewell Cafe'
Thought I'd throw in one with a twist..
Miss you
I woke up in tears Theres no way your gonna walk down those stairs Doesn't matter how many prayers I pray Your're in a place where there's no pain I cry so hard that Every part of my body hurts I miss you so much
What is our hope?
What is the hope of man if his years be only 100 Why does he dance with cymbol and tamberine for a life that will fade like the grass He opens his eyes at birth and closes them knowing only the decay of his flesh Why does he sacrifice his l
Save Your Last Tear For Me
I can't share why I wrote this. Very personal.
In the name of
I have changed the title as I felt it did not suit the poem and also the last 3 lines,, it fits much better now!
5 - danube 3135
silent sob & screams
C.B. Bringer of Sorrow
On that day of birth, after the death of your friend, you stop it all, as you maketh your end. Left in your wake, you leave six and one, a bringer of sorrow, now hero to none, a father and husband, a life rendered undone. Too scared to face de
To Death of Love
It is above a guy who I truly loved but couldn't love just me ...
x
There are so many words I can't bring myself to say for if I do, what have I to cling onto? "She was a lady, one of the best", I hear you say, the word "was" like a dart in my heart, she "is" I scream in silence, not willing to accept this grief
Homecoming (In memory of my dad)
In loving memory of my father Kendrick Sharpe. Missionary, pastor of Antioch Missionary Baptist church. Who passed on the 11th day of June 2017, one day shy of his 53rd wedding anniversary. Love and miss u dad. Proud to be your son!
For all the men that tried to do you wrong..
What were you thinking? Did she not kiss your Cheek like a dove from Heaven? Can't you remember Her glowing smile As you walked Through the door? She just needed a Man to comfort Her.. To protect her She really saw You as a knight In
My Friend Gone But Not Forgotten
This poem is about a friend of mine who was in so much pain...pain no one discerned. She must have felt so hopeless.
Ode to Davina
This is a Fond Rememberance of my dear Mother Davina Yvonne who died at home on April 13, 1998. Aged 76 years. Davina the loving Mother of Susan, Carol and Tom.
126 in 22 days
This is a poetical stand for those people who have taken their own lives in Ireland this year. If Ireland’s suicide rate keeps going at the same pace. Ireland will lose over 2000 people by the end of the year. Please don’t let happen. Make our government stand up and take notice of this epidemic before it is too late.
19
I wrote this having just been to the funeral of a young man. He was in first year of college, working a part-time job during mid-term, and was killed in an accident there. The church was filled to capacity,but it was four young men near the coffin caught my eye, in their silent anguish.
Time of reflection - Death of a Innocent
It's not from me It just has to go around the world ...
to Steve
December 14th, Wednesday, 2016, I found my roommate dead on the living room couch. He was my buddy. He took a morphine overdose. His name is Steve Smith. He was in a bad motorcycle accident some years back which messed him up badly. He showed up at our place with nothing more than a trash bag full of clothes and a cell phone. I never keep my bedroom door locked so these guys down on their luck would be forever knocking on my door. I'm a magnet for the down trodden, and I'd make Steve coffee every morning as we watched the morning news. He snored loudly every night usually waking me up. He was snoring like that at 11:00 Tuesday night. Next morning I came downstairs and another roommate had already called 911. I asked, "What's going on?" "He's dead replied my roommate."
Rain Forest
Helter-Skelter Tropical Storm Lost Shelter
The execution
Wow! I had to check outside my bedroom window to make sure the cops weren't coming for me! And don't any of you ladies start acting up or you'll get the same thing. Lol. But we do grant you one last meal of your choosing, if you're slated for execution. So what will it be? Chili dog, caviar, Mac & cheese, or buttered biskets served with Cafe tea? ps.. Can I have your stereo and coin collection? Just asking. Lol.
The Kind of World We Live in
A poetic rendition of the last paragraph of “A Meek One” (A Fantastic Story) by Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Sitting by his wife’s coffin late at night the hero of story is lamenting the death of his wife who had committed suicide for which he is solely to blame. When it dawned upon him that he had made a mess of his marriage it was already too late – no time for making amends and restoring lost confidence. She had suffered enough to come to hate life and made up her mind already. He is left alone with bitter regrets – regrets and loneliness are going to be his sole companions from now on - all through his fault. “ ’People, love one another’ – who said that? Whose commandment is it? The pendulum is clicking unfeelingly, horridly. It’s two in the morning... Now, seriously, they’ll take her away tomorrow, AND WHATEVER SHALL I DO?” – is the question that haunts him, eating him up.
Christmas without you
A poem written/dedicated to my beautiful mother who saddly passed away on me last year on christmas eve,..with a thought also for the late great Simmo.
He Talked to Trees
I wrote this poem after my husband passed away.....
Kindness in death
day has ended night has fallen ears dont listen when sleep is calling. tired unwilling upstairs i stroll tears will fall eyes won't close. tossing and turning sleep won't come memories haunt me of that special one. sleep will take me
She IS Beautiful!
Georgia was very young teenager and died last week of cancer, she was such an on to it young lady and only wanted the best for all. No holes barred she said what she did, Georgia lived down the road from where I live. I will go on Saturday to meet her parents. Never meet them before. But I will. Having farms down the road could be quite a long way away. "Who cares" Me For Georgia!
Silent Spurs (another Saloon Story)
how cool to have your poetic mind to take a sudden curve.
Knowing Right From Wrong
The truth hides in their sins
It's just like that
"You gotta make your own way In this world, said the father To the son" The son sneered, "Oh, it's like That?" "Yeah, said the father, it's Just like that." "You gotta be a father to your Children, mother said to son." Laughing, said the so
the soul who suffers long
ive learned that the hardest times make for the sweetest lines