Author: Unknown
SHE SAT ON HER BED, HE IN THE DEN
SHE WITH A BOOK, HE WITH A PEN
SHE WAS READING ABOUT LETHAL DRUGS AND THEIR USE
WHILE HE SAT WRITING A SINCERE YET FAR-FETCHED EXCUSE
SHE CAME DOWN AND SET THE TABLE
WHILE HE DID WHATEVER HE WAS ABLE
BOTH HAD SOMETHING TO SAY THAT WAS REAL
BUT FIRST THEY WOULD EACH SHARE A MEAL
A YOUNG ROASTED LAMB, PEAS AND CARROTS
AND THEN BOTH BEGAN TO SPEAK OF THEIR HABITS
HER'S WERE BENIGN BUT HIS WAS OF GREAT CONCERN
AND BOTH PARTNERS HAD A LOT TO LEARN
SHE HAD A PROBLEM WHICH HAPPENED TO BE HIM
AND HOW THEIR FUTURE SEEMED FAR TOO DIM
THEY USED SOME MONEY TO DRESS THE LADY WITH CHARM
SOME FOR RENT, FOOD AND THE REST TO SHOOT UP HIS ARM
UNFORTUNATELY THERE WOULD BE NO COMPROMISE
FOR SHE WAS INTELLIGENT, HE NOT QUITE AS WISE
SHE DEMANDED AN END TO HIS DRUG ABUSE
AND STOP USING THAT WHICH SHE DEEMED REFUSE
FOR TRASH IT WAS TO A LADY SO SWEET
BUT HE SO ACRID AND INDISCREET
SO BOTH CLIMBED THE STAIRS AND INTO THEIR ROOM
SHE TO PACK HER BAGS AND HE TO RESUME HIS DOOM
DIVERGENT NEEDS WOULD KEEP THEM APART
SHE SO SOFT AND HE WITH HIS HARDENED HEART
SHE PACKED HER BAGS AS HE USED THE BATHROOM BUT NOT AS A JOHN
THEN HE AROSE FROM THE TILE AND TURNED THE KNOB ONLY TO FIND HER GONE
IT HURTS TO RECOLLECT THIS SORDID STORY
AND UNFORTUNATELY IT WAS NO ALLEGORY
IF THE TRUTH BE TOLD IT WAS AGONY
FOR SHE WAS LOVELY SHE AND I WAS A DESPERATE ME
(C) 2011...~free cee!~
author's note....it is acceptable for James Taylor to rhyme Boston with frostin' because in song it sounds okay. However, when someone, no names mentioned, uses the word "oughter" and jams it into a poem to rhyme with "daughter" that person should take at least one year of Analytical Poetry (i took two) or abandon poetry for prose.....does anyone remember the word "order?" This is only my opinion and you can take it from whence it came. ~f.C.!~
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Posted: Feb 2011
About this poem:
NANCY REAGAN'S ADVICE WAS AS LAME AS WHEN HER HUSBAND BECAME A LAME DUCK
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Trudged outside to drive to work
Warmed the car and applied some torque
Wheels spinning and going nowhere
Except downwards until I didn't care
Seems I'm stuck I saddly lamented
A mild spell made snow soft I vented
What should I do now I thought
Phone in to work and explain I ought
Whatever will I do with myself today
For in my house I am forced to stay
Well I'll happily while away the hours
Go to PC before my disposition sours
A happy place where I may jest and fun
Somewhere they laugh at my bad puns
A place where people always lend a hand
No buried heads in the pages or the sand
A wondrous place of creativity and mirth
Simply not like any other on this earth
Where kindness and sympathy abides
Understanding as constant as the tides
A place where the sun is always shining
They gladly listen to my constant wining
A place where people are reaching out
Sanctuary where I can scream and shout
Now that I've got your attention
Glorified all as helpful by intention
Do you consider it less than absurb
Could you all push my car past the curb??
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2011
About this poem:
Just askin'....geez!!!
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Author: Unknown
a 17 year old white kid shouldn't be in such a place
and shouldn't be in such a lady's embrace
yet there strolled I in the darkness of desperation
and all too soon mine became a hazardous occupation
my eyes saw the midnight moon but it mattered not
i went there whether the weather was frigid or hot
walking amongst people so different from me
yet that lady would allow none of us to live free
my eyes widened when I saw what lay straight ahead
a lady that could leave me comatose or dead
yet a 17 year old white boy sat on the street
craving in the cold and searching in the scortching heat
a 17 year old white boy shouldn't be there
and back then that lady filled people with fear
but i needed immediate relief only she could provide
as I continued to let the lady become my only guide
all those years ago among friends I was the only one
and day by day heroin had me on the run
seeking on corners and looking in bars
while a white boy in Harlem may as well have been on Mars
I was a stranger meeting strangers by the score
and that's what I'd done a hundred times or more
because no matter what was happening the lady displayed her charm
and she grew more grievous with every shot in my arm
(c) ~free cee!~
P.S. did you people know that the only adjective in the English language that cannot be modified by an adverb is the word "unique"....like she's either unique or she ain't unique, if one chooses to adhere to the rules my creative writing professor in my second and last year of college told me, "free, if you want to adhere to the rules you won't say VERY unique" So I don't. and I find that unique....as in a unique eunich
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Posted: Feb 2011
About this poem:
"Hey white boy, you want some white powder?"
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Author: Unknown
i've buried more shining friends than you can believe
and buried so many psychiatrists that you can't conceive
i've been to seedy places most people wouldn't dare to enter
and of the people who try to censor me you are in the dead center
i write what i see, hear and with clarity know
yet and still you want to turn rain into snow
well i'll always be snow no matter what you may say
and for no one or reason shall i alter my way
my poems are warnings to parents they need to heed
so they can recognize when Johnny has a habit to feed
but there you are trying to stifle what they need to hear
and i deem you doing that totally unfair
i do take criticism but first i'd like to read you
because something tells me you write about a sky so blue
you probably scribe words about warriors so brave
while i tell people how to save themselves from an early grave
well at this particular time that's all i have to state
that and i wish your irrational reviews of me would abate
because i don't give a damn if you kick me or sock me
but then you have the unmitigated nerve to block me
yours in rebellion, relaxation, and reflexes that reflect
my attitude toward critics like you
~free cee!~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2011
About this poem:
DO YOU NOW, MS. IRELAND DIG? OOPS SORRY THAT'S ONE OF THE WORDS
YOU CARE NOT TO HEAR....WELL I FIND YOUR BLOCKKING ME DIFFICULT TO BEAR
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Author: Unknown
THERE HE LAY A STONE TO SPEAK NO MORE
THERE HE LAY, MOTIONLESS UNLIKE SECONDS BEFORE
THERE LAY HE, WITH NO MORE SMILES FOR TO LEND
THERE LAY HE, MY GLISTENING FRIEND
I TAUGHT HIM WELL HOW TO FIND A VEIN
I TUTORED HIM WELL IN HOW TO CONQUER PAIN
I EDIFIED HIM IN HOW TO ROB AND STEAL
THERE LAY HE WITH NO PULSE TO FEEL
T'WAS MIDST PORCELAIN AND TILE LAY HE THERE
OUR DESPERATION WAS AS A SPEAR
SKEWERED BY STEEL AS REAL AS ANY MADE
AND DONE WERE ALL THE PLANS TO FADE
HE AND I WERE GOING TO TRAVERSE THE GLOBE
UNTIL MY BATHROOM DEFILED HIS ROBE
WHEN MET DID WE HE WAS FILLED WITH HOPE
BUT OUR DESIRE BECAME HIS HANGMAN'S ROPE
NO 911 WOULD I PLACE THAT CALL
AS I DRAGGED INTO A HOLLOWED HALL
LEST THE COPS SEEK ANSWERS I COULD NOT DEFEND
AND HIS HEART AND SOUL UNABLE TO MEND
SO ALAN DIED IN MY SEEDY APARTMENT'S TUB
AND THEREIN LIES THE RUBBISH AND THE RUB
I NEVER ATTENDED HIS FUNERAL SINCE I FELT AS IF I HAD KILLED HIM WELL
AS FOR ALAN I KNOW NOT WHERE HE WENT BUT I AM HEADED FOR HELL
(C) 2011....~free cee!~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2011
About this poem:
what is there to say except lo all these years later I still miss you my brother?
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Author: Unknown
YOU CAN ARISE WHENEVER YOU CARE TO
THAT'S ONE REASON I AM JEALOUS OF YOU
FOR BREAKFAST YOU CAN EAT WHATEVER YOU PICK OUT
ALAS, AS FOR MY FIRST MEAL THERE IS NOT EVEN A DOUBT
I KNOW PRECISELY WHAT WILL BE ON MY METAL TRAY
EXCEPT SOMETIMES IT'S MILK OR O.J. TO BEGIN THE DAY
YOUR PANTRY IS FULL OF SUSTINANCE I DON'T EVEN RECALL
AS I USE AN OLD FILTHY AND FADED TEE SHIRT AS A SHAWL
YOUR LUNCH TIME MIGHT BE AT THAT LITTLE TAVERN WE KNOW
BUT NOW MY LUNCH TIME IS DELIVERED ROW BY ROW
THAT COZY TAVERN MEANT A LOT TO ME
AND SO DID MY BEING FREE
BUT POWDER AND PAIN BROUGHT ME HERE
AND HERE I WILL STAY YEAR AFTER YEAR
I RECEIVE CENSORED LETTERS IN MY PERSONAL MAIL
THE ONES THEY ALLOW ME TO READ HERE IN JAIL
(C) 2011.....free cee!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2011
About this poem:
THE TRUTH IS, MANY YEARS AGO, I ONLY SPENT THREE DAYS IN JAIL, BUT AS I WALKED OUT I WONDERED ABOUT THE CONVICTS I MET AND NOW TOO MANY YEARS LATER I CHOSE TO WRITE ABOUT IT
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Author: Unknown
January 17, 2011
I gaze up at the round bright winter’s moon,
watching and drifting in wonder of you.
Have you felt a tug at your heart or sleeve?
Has a voice called out you were sure you knew?
Have you thought on it, over and over,
how souls seek each other, then meet by fate?
I whisper my wish for our paths to cross.
I’m patient, though sometimes I curse the wait.
Your deep soothing voice echoes within me.
I imagine your eyes...a familiar light.
Let my thoughts be the beacon that guides you,
bridging the distance between us this night.
All-knowing face of the bright winter’s moon,
nestled in a sea of ten trillion stars...
guide him to me through a brief pause in time,
and grant us a life of love that is ours.
Have we not waited and searched long enough?
Have we not paid every debt that we owe?
I long for the feel of him in my arms...
my love, my heart, he, the soul of my soul.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2011
About this poem:
This poem speaks for itself. I am sending my intentions for the one I seek, out to the Universe and I await it's positive reply. Blessed be. May this poem find its way to the eyes and heart of he who will know that my calling is for him alone.
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Even as I write this, I know I'll be criticized
But I don't really care because this is what I feel inside
I just wish I could erase these thoughts in my head
Waking up to another dreadful morning, wishing I was dead
I use to be full of hope and love, now I'm angry and sour
I feel like a rat in a cage full of snakes, waiting to be devoured
And it's not like i haven't thought of suicide, hell a couple of times I tried
Once with a shotgun in my mouth, that jammed, and the other with a dulling kitchen knife
It just feels like I have a thousand demons digging through my brain
Feasting on every memory of happiness until nothing else remains
And my mother, God bless her soul, tells me to turn all my problems over to the Lord
But with every passing second, it seems I question Him more and more
Damnit, I can't take it, my heart no longer feels and my soul is torn
And asking me to go to church would be like asking a nun to do porn
It just won't happen because my faith has been replaced with doubt
And I won't go just to be seen because that's not what it should be about
There's too many hypocrits in this world and I've never been part of the "in crowd"
So I'll just keep hoping that one day God will hear me before my misery causes me to drown
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2011
About this poem:
I admit, not a poem for everyone, but hey, this is me...brutally honest
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Author: Unknown
Another year all shiny new,
What will it bring? How will we do?
Will there be fame and fortune great?
Will all our troubles then abate?
Some moan and wail in sad lament,
About time wasted, poorly spent.
Oh how has all our precious time,
Gone up in smoke while we reclined?
The past is past no need to cry,
Don't waste your tears or even sigh.
With each new dawn new hopes arise,
In every night stars fill our skies.
Let this year bring good times to all,
Peace and comfort on each befall.
May love be strong and pure and true,
My fervent wish to all of you.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2010
About this poem:
To all our friends on PC, Happy New Year!
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friendship remains for D and C
with the balance of power shifted
new life into the mixture has come
with happiness to be gifted
though it was just at tips of fingers
there is no rest for R and R
yet the aroma of love still lingers
baked goodness dripping from a star
T partially consumed by S
J nearly done in by K
alphabet of love failures
on the heart doth heavily weigh
cell turned against itself
to destroy from inside out
love’s loss it was that turned the switch
research will prove, no doubt
overwhelmed by grief of loss
sleep tossed from night to day
time would turn quickly for one
the other later would have to pay
T swept up by love of M
who proved to be the one
J dangles without letter to come
match step-for-step life’s fun
blizzard flakes of besotted love
fall from heaven and blanket ground
obstructed view by clouds above
storms continuing to surround
waiting for love in stormy weather
swirling snowflakes strike the cheek
‘til love returns and makes life better
wait, a new year starts this week
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2010
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