In the memories of my young brother
The memory of my brother who died 2004 of drug used, then i cry when i wrote this and smile as he ask me to put his funny foto hang to my bedroom wall till now.
Time to go home
this poem tells of hurt and pain , we go true ,.when our father dies,but lives again in the kingdom of heaven, peace and love to all the people who face cancer may god's blessing be with you.
Swim
A late night musing. That's become my new source.
22nd November 1996
i.m. Aunt Marjorie The day of her funeral it snowed, the only day of the year on which there was snow. The cortege crawled to the chapel. Afterwards in the cemetery, we clustered in groups, recalling the clusters who kept watch by her be
I know
I can see the sickness in your eyes, It can never be washed away no matter how much you cry. It is sad and hurts because i know. I once traveled that path not to long ago. The only way i can help.. is to pray for you as someone once prayed fo
My Brother
I wrote this poem about an Enape man, son of the villages I-yan, who taught me what it truly meant to be a man and to fight for the good in this world. He was my brother in all but blood. And my dearest friend.
Corvus Mortis
There is an empty country road on my way to work, where you can see for three miles from one end to the next. On days like this, when I wake up late, it isn't uncommon for me to drive at pretty excessive speeds. Two ravens sat at breakfast, roadside- By the time they saw me coming (and I saw them) it was a little too late for one of them. Took off flying, but didn't turn away from the road. ;______;
A late little note
Your love lived in every cell of mine Our souls and genes still intertwine loss of you nightmares crush my mind no peace from them I ever find When he scared you I felt your fear if he came you kept me near Protecting me from all his harm hi
The Road You Chose
This is written for a man I grew up with. I had not seen him since his mothers funeral twenty years ago. He looked rough then. You could tell his style of choice had removed his once happy gleam in his eye and his handsome looks. What I seen was his mug shot on the news. While he was at work as a security guard on a dare he shot a man in the face. At least that is the story the news is telling. And from what I seen twenty years ago I fear the story is true. So sad. What a waste. He most likely will never see the outside of a jail or mental hospital now. I have turned to his mug shot and thought a million times this week. It could of been my life. I just chose a different road. I wonder what makes someone choose the road they choose. Why would someone not want a life that is good. Satisfying. Happy. Not behind bars. You shoot someone and it is something you cannot take back. The man shot died the next day:-(.
Of An Angels Wing
BEFORE I START THIS POEM, I WANT TO DEDICATE THIS POEM, IN LOVING MEMORY OF ALLISON, TAMARA COWLEY. AUG 27, 1997 TO MAY 2, 2002 AND HER FAMILY, AND GOD BLESS EVERYONE OF THEM. She was their for me to love, sent straight from above, she's the ap
Why did this happen for?
This is one of my first poems I have ever wrote. RIP Dad
my dad 1926 to 2002
my hammer the rock that makes me brave but gentle is your love father my dad a great man strong in the mind but then came the time god needed you more then me so grow up i had to do father my dad i love you r.i.p
Jaded
I have always thought of a person being jaded. As one who has had a bad relationship. Not as one who has loved with the passion of an echo that could not be silenced. I thought of the man who sat waiting endless for his lady to come home. To wa
Stuck
Dang it. It want go. I can't seem to move forwards, or backwards. Just stuck here in the middle of no where. I don't know, But it seems like I've been here for ever. The windshield wiper fluid has run dry. The windows starting to look a litt
my beautiful trio
in memory of 3 amazing beautiful friends who all in their own world drifted and departed from this world. Sophia x
IN DREAMS
my angel sabrina killed by a drunk driver . but never that never killed her spirit .
Untitled
This was written for my grandfather whom passed on my sweet 16. I still miss him dearly. I dont remember the title unfortunately
Warrior
This is my first poem. i wrote it about four months ago. it doesnt rhyme or anything but just thought id write it.
Rotting Away
Tragic endings pile upon beautiful sunsets, Casting a gold glow over death, and cooking rancid corpses, while sending the proof of their demise into the breeze burdened day. Everything horrible was once wonderful, and has lost its once contained
Until Later Son
I wrote this for my sons funeral. Also the title is on his headstone.
Never Forever
I wrote this for my son Taison who was stillborn on 2/2/2006. He was full term with 23 days until he was due. My heart still aches so very much for him still, but he gives me a form of peace I've never experienced before. I love talking about him to anyone so I don't mind anyone asking. Thanks for reading.
Love like candy.
You gave love like candy to a child, and dragged laughter from my belly. Your voice filled my thoughts and mind, leaving no space in the between times. I wonder,at the complete invasion! to death-like quiet..and.. our all or nothing view of l
WASN'T YOU WAS ME!!
shortly before I deleted my profile !!
After?
There's a difficulty in the heart, associated with this kind of loss of freedom and lack of will to change. Unfortunately, as addictive and destructive as these relationships are, they are often the most troublesome, and are practically impossible to escape without some form of change in perspective on life as well as love.
In memory
In memory of my best man and good friend...I miss you
Angel Tears
Needless causualties of war
War Costs
Gray clouds on blue sky War traumas never do heal The sun always shines.
My Lost Loves.
What is there to say ? Grief is the worst emotion one can suffer. Only those who have suffered can understand.
.........WHY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!........................
Me just thinking to much.........
lamplight testimony
this was a difficult write. It brought out quite a diversity of feelings; grief, hopelessness apprehensiveness, excitement, and hope. I love the dramatic properties it possesses. I love sad stories with happy endings. Death is not something to be feared.
life.....
i wort it becouse i have been there in life and i'm still there.
The Poem With No Name
Peace and grace once ruled this place And an angel held open the door Now peace is dead, the angel has fled And grace is a hustling whore I am sorry to have taken up your time I was a poem that could never rhyme It's easy to forget me, just t
Behold young friends..
I didn't write this...my best friend and I stumbled upon this on accident in a cemetary on a headstone when we were young....it has stuck with us ever since. We also have seen it in other places, after that experience.
Husband
Husband died leaving me alive Sustained by his enduring love for his children I must be alive Beautiful are his children to me And in their beautiful faces I see his beloved eyes Now in the light of dawn I feel his peace once more Down in the
Stranger
Speaks of the devastation many have to face and go through when they are in battle with different nations or hate crimes among themselves.
Scheduled Departure
This is one of several poems that I wrote after hearing about the death of Michael Jackson. It is dedicated to his memory! If you're a MJ fan, I hope you enjoy it.
Cry Me A River
Not really a poem, actually lyrics to a song i wrote but thought i'd share them. Not about any particular event, just about sorrow and loss albeit though death or seperation or anything else that drags you down. Comments appreciated, thanks.
Death
I think death answer all life"s questions
Calling the Dead
We speak their names into the sky, across the void we call out to them. We seek signs they have made it through- to give us a word, some hint of what happens when we die. They don't reply- just stand in the shadows and sha
As I Lay Dying
This is about the death of ones love when the other walks away.
Some People Say
I wrote this back in '98. After an infulental man in my life died. He was a tall proud man. "The Chief" Mr. W. Campbell.
I Never Got
I never got, to see the light of day. I never got, to breathe in the air. I never got, a chance to play. I never got, to stop and stare. At the beauty, that would of sourrounded me. I never got, a chance to just be. S.O.B.