I know this pain won't
last forever,
but then again maybe
it will.
Mind over body
maybe
But as I look out
the sill;
from my bed tears begin
to form.
I must be
stronger,
yet I am more
worn.
The words of fellow
poets
Caress my heart.
Another mountain
to climb
And I know it.
My spine screeches at me
Shut up brain.
but I will not listen
It is insane.
Always push forward
Chin up
Eyes ahead.
You have many more
roads to travel,
HE said.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2011
About this poem:
What better a way to release emotion than to write it. Thank you foro aallowing me too.
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sign the parchment
of today's line
inking with blood
this promissory note
remunerated doer
significant construer
shout the hilltop
breath don't stop
can profanity emphasize
the extreme elation
principally interested
just being part of now
© agoodguy2have 2011-03-17
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Mar 2011
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It seeps through your pores
And into your veins
Out through your blood
An into your brain
A feeling so strong
It overwhelms pain
Can make you smile
Again an again
It follows us around
For far an wide
Has no limitations
Has no pride
Seeking an soothing
As it goes
It never stops
It always flows
The beat may change
From time to time
Stories that are told
Make people entwine
The reasons being
Are so sublime
Thats why music
Is so divine
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Mar 2011
About this poem:
it is what it is .....
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nanoseconds take so long
as years seem to fly away
elated sorrow for times prolong
time is short on this long day
times back then to live forever
we knew no time to waste away
young and innocent of whatsoever
always time for another day
yet now the sun shadows it's dial
the shaded lines moving quicker
could wait for darkened night awhile
as precious lights fade and flicker
a forlorn day is the saddest thing
that i can now imagine possessing
i want all of life that i can wring
no time to squander on ours depressing
so time is now as time allows
can never be known when time is up
carp diem be the mantra to espouse
and drink today a full life's cup
© agoodguy2have 2011-02-25
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2011
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Author: Unknown
The glare of the silver and shimmering blade
Cuts so deep,when there is twisted rage
The blank canvas,the skin of life
Ripped and slashed under the flourescent light
Dreams and screams of a distant song
When will it be over,it has taken so long
The discovery of an aching twitch
Paralyzing pain of several a stitch
Not knowing of any encounter
Of the living nor the dead
A soft cozy billowy pillow to rest your head
There is faint sounds of voices low
Above, the bright lights aglow
You are in a state of transition
Pushing your own body out of remission
Tailored cuffs of cotton and string
Hold you down,like a nightmare,against a dream
In your mind,you can hardly remember
Tranquility is all you can sember
Restlessly,your thoughts are racing
Unknowingly the gas you are tasting
Suddenly you are gently awakened
Strangers,but not foes are at your bedside
Softly whispering to bring you to
Wake up,They say it is all over,you did good
Everything is going to be alright
The severity of the wound is not of plight
You will soon retrieve your health
We wish you a speedy recovery,and plenty of stealth.......
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2011
About this poem:
going under the knife.....
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Amidst Innerworld there exists a vast treasure trove of lost wisdom and knowledge. I have had recent excursions away, and though foreign in nature and naivety, nonesthematter, I returned in full plus slight gleanings of insight as to certain mortal health matters. As self containment never could fit me, I shall loosen the self-seal and relieve myself while easing the pressure pushing out on me. 1. should one be impaled by a walrus' tusk, a warm broth of milk and onions shall be spooned between the victims lips and later when sniffing about the wound, should no pungent odor of onions come through, then no vital organs have been pierced. 2. powdered white stone of lime mixed with whale oil is good for blisters and small boils and closes wounds. 3. to cure fever, take milk of a woman with toe-headed boy child at breast, put three drops into a soft-cooked egg, and let a man who never saw the sick one before give it to them to swallow. 4. for upset stomach, boil wormwood in rain water, add vinegar, allow to cool outdoors for a day, then drink it. 5. for warts, spread on a paste made of burned willow bark wet with owl's blood and they disappear. 6. for dogbite, apply hair of the dog to stop the bleeding. 7. cover a burn with hog fat or eggwhites. 8. to keep a baby healthy, give it a bath in fermented cabbage juice. 9. for colic, the mother must cool red-hot iron in water and have the child drink the water. 10. for baldness, rub the scalp with onion juice and pine sap. 11. for cough, a spoonful of tar and a second of boiled honey. 12. if old men eat fennel, they become young. 13. to read the signs of death, put a sick man's spittle upon live coals, if it sticks, he will die, or rub a sick man's feet with swine flesh and throw it to a dog, if the dog eats the meat, the man will recover. So, keep your dogs hungry!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2010
About this poem:
I'm silly sick...
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when you have a reason to get out of bed
or when you have a reason to stay there
can tend to clear the mind instead
of leaving the soul in wanton despair
the higher purpose of our lowly fate
experience is our greatest educator
to touch and feel to know and relate
a useful life our finest demonstrator
into our soulful gate we slowly saunter
and ask what is soul and what is mind
to live our lives of thought and wonder
being a Gordian knot tightly intertwined
we are only able to do the best we can
but that is our light to bring to our being
to be keeper of brother and friend to man
to see with our own eyes what others are seeing
upon reflection, a heart-filled introspection
as seconds go quickly here, chances bringing
love shows our natural ability to change direction
ups-n-downs merry-go-round catch brass ringing
under some blue skies we lay down dreamily
minds gently wander around consciousness
pointedly watching clouds breeze by lazily
as life proceeds toward serene happiness
© agoodguy2have 2010-10-28
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2010
About this poem:
i think i was dozing...
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Author: Unknown
Cutting back on the drink and the smoke,
The reasons are many, you see.
There's the money and mess and the choke,
It'll make a much better me.
And there's one who I hope to make mine,
Objects to the smell and effects,
Of the vile cigarettes and the wine.
Her wishes I do so respect.
Though withdrawal's gonna be painful,
It's pain I believe I can stand.
Overall results will be gainful,
Of taking my habits in hand.
Addiction's insidious voices,
Try to make you think it's a need,
To make you think there's no choices,
While itself it is trying to feed.
It's my own hands, my lips and my mind,
They're mine to control with my will.
I am sure as I try I will find,
My wish to abstain I'll fulfill.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2010
About this poem:
Wish me luck!
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I'm on discovery channel for a while too see whats new. Had a good day at work, b and e's lately alot of doors to fix. A cold beer sits in wait on the table at the couch. Cat's in the window smellin the air. Car's driving by as their tires chat the road. Fill up the tub have a bath pretty soon. Not sure what to eat, but while I soak in the tub I'll figure what to cook. Perhaps some 'A an E' or 'TLC' a round a boxing or spike I'll see.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2010
About this poem:
a relax night after a busy week so far
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Author: Unknown
We all have a hard luck story,
A sad sob tale to tell.
No more songs of fame and glory,
Just tolling of the bell.
I've heard them all from near and far,
No joy seems to be had.
I lost my job, my wife, my car,
My luck has all been bad.
The skies are grey, the wind is cold,
My health is failing fast.
You hear these stories often told,
The end has come at last.
No sad songs any more I sing,
The bluebird's on my sill.
With sunshine to my life you bring,
My heart with joy you fill.
So tell me not the tales of woe,
Won't hear them any more.
Just sing me songs soft, sweet and low,
Of happiness in store.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2010
About this poem:
On the upswing...
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