Last Liked Ballad Poems (501)

i once saw a bat
and then he shat


on my face, and so began a tail of one man
and his unconventional fetish
an everyday fairytale
some might say
but im not gay



or am i?

somewhere when stops the time,
somewhere a night,
and some little dramas..
you,me,and we,
intriguing mysteries..
at the midnight of worlds,
when the end,
reaches a short eternity..
some of them,dreamers,
call that..love..
some others..have no words..
somewhere,tangled webs,
tangerine and low tide,
blue indigo and clarinet..
somewhere in the early hours,
playing the game,
a night to remember,
a day to forgotten..
somewhere,purring,
somewhere,pouring,
purling..
somewhere and now,
and you are away..
I touch your delicate smell,
elusive memory,
just the instant,
a melody..
somewhere..

I hide behind my walls
of steel
they stop the ones
who seek to feel
the why, the who, the where
and then I
start to feel all
over again.
Retreat I go
to bricks and mortar
hiding in my castle deep
Moat will stop the evil
warders
while the lady tries to sleep.
Lock the door
they shant break throuogh
milady they have
come for you.
Fight I will
before I come
this land is ours
I will not run.
With slippered foot
or shielded arm
my honour to this land
prevails.
While knights are
fighting at my side
the bards will live to
tell the tales.
Of valiance and hearts
foresworn
to live protect
and die as one
the lady with the
phoenix hair
gave all she had
becaused she cared.

I never thought I'd love again
My heart once stopped
But now beats again
I thought I wasn't ready
Then I saw your face
And now my heart beats at a steady pace.

tell me thelma...
the islands of your heart,
the cities of your soul,
the empathy of your world.
tell me thelma,
the peaceful lake shore,
and the fountain,
high in the azure..
tell me thelma..
the door is closed
on the wounds..
gentle cat asleep,
behind the curtain..
tell me thelma..
you have a crazy sailing boat,
in your head..
the power to tame oceans,
to appease volcanoes..
tell me thelma..
your words,
are english,french,
tagalog,
bird,frog,
water and fire..
thelma..
rewriting the lonely planet,
you are our connecting salon..

The Paladin's Lament

The swirl of vengeful desert dust
and moral rage long simmering
dulls the sound of angel's wing
and hides my hope's light glimmering.

In righteous roar of red-tinged mist,
all peace of mind is gone and lost.

If challenge in this life were fair,
not vigilance by dragon's lair,
if I had just normal struggles made,
not bashing demons on my blade,
the gnashing in my soul would stop
and easy wrongs would kindly drop.

I deftly face old Darwin's knife
slicing weakness from my life,
but facing devils miles wide
with no-one's army by my side
is getting old quite hard and fast;
time's mortal strength will not long last.

If worldly needs did not exist
I'd retire to a hermit's nest,
but with quiet breaking heart at noon
my sinful midnight hand creeps in
delivering me so I may rest,
tears falling after on my breast,
that waits to cherish, love, adore,
if just my pride were not at war.
Alone I fall asleep at night,
alone I wake in morning light.

Sorting through the stuff as I am packing... and the reality of break-up strikes like lightening from the clear sky... It is no more. Gone. What started so beautifully drowned in misunderstanding and suspicion.

Why?... Why such a mistrust? All your accusations were groundless, yes, I am not perfect, but I am not like you made me out to be...

Pride flames up on both sides, walls raised to the sky, protect yourself, I am right, you are wrong... you don't love me!!!... I do... but I am weak... I don't know how to do it better...

Who cares about the little one... her little eyes wide open and does not understand why she is not loved... What's wrong, she asks... Cleaning up the house, she is told...

Selfishness and pride flashes fiery arrows, blood flows and cries light up the sky... all the little one wants is her hugs and kisses... not at a pre-arranged time, at visitations, but any time and every time... Where is my freedom, to hug mum and dad when I need them? Who cares about ME??? She will get used to not seeing you, I hear the wise saying... but how will I get used to not seeing her?... pain rips my heart, tears run into my eyes... Yes, we will both get used to the scars... they numb our hearts and tone down our feelings... and deep inside the hurts, like boiling lava, are buried forever... but they are alive... these wounds don't heal... we pretend they do, but we lie to ourselves...

We move on with life... if desolation can be called life... for destruction is left behind and blood flows on the streets... cries are heard, quieter and quieter as we go, until all cries die out...

And I enter the cold, unfriendly world... where there is no hope... fearfully looking into the steel cold face of the future... and wonder... what life is about...

I repost it here so people can find it easier...
_____________________

Once upon the time there was a large, dry oak tree standing over the cliff, watching in desperation the sun go down behind the clouds soaked in blood... and darkness fell upon his heart... there was no hope for the dawn, it was late now, far too late... the night has arrived and life's goals are gone forever... There was nothing to live for, no-one to care for... The journey had come to its end...

Yet, the dawn had arrived when a bright white dove found rest upon his branches. His soul was filled with sparks, his heart was thrilled from joy he never felt...

How long the sun will shine, I do not know... Or that the morning dew will quench the thirst of empty hearts... or the blinking stars sprinkle their lights into the darkest corners of souls...

How long?...

Life is mysterious and relationships are complicated... wounded birds falling from the sky hear: 'Go, heal each other!', and they cry: 'Don't touch my wounds! Keep away! It is hurting! and they hurl down to the ashes in pain and blood...

Slowly but surely they are drifting apart... wounds bleed and leave scars when healed... being frightened they desperately grab after the other with their sharp nails...

Why is life so complex? Why are we so hopeless when there is so much beauty around us? When there is so much to appreciate about each of us...

A year has passed and the dry oak tree that in the past in desperation
watched the sun going down had found life again... life, beautiful beyond imagination... a year that was worth waiting and hoping for, that was worth living...
_______________________________
Copyrighted by Revealer24 on CS

Underneath the basement floor, I buried old McGee,
When I was young, just twenty-four, and he was forty-three.
Fifty years have passed by since he met an end so grim;
I've often thought to move his bones, and what remains of him.

Yet even now the townsfolk watch this little house, and stare;
And speculate upon his absence, and his daughter, fair.
Fair she was! And all who knew her, knew what he had done!
Yet they left her pleas unanswered; help, they offered none!

I was young, an able hand, new travelled from afar,
A green and willing stablehand, my guide a western star.
His daughter soon was known to me, as was her evil plight;
McGee then learned about our tryst, and came to me one night:

He thought to beat me like a cur, to kill me if he could!
Broken, bleeding, bloody, I grabbed up a stick of wood!
Oh, McGee, how I recall your face, corrupt with rage;
Your coarse, unshaven jowl, your breath fowl as Sodom's cage!

Struck, the first blow sent your yellow teeth about like dice!
Struck, the next blow laid you low, and scattered wee straw-mice!
Struck, the third blow shattered every wit inside your head!
Struck, the fourth blow to be sure your wicked soul was dead!

The peace that followed, like her life, was short and bitter-sweet;
Her grave lies near a meadow-stream, where grass and sunshine meet;
Wildflowers grace her place of rest, the tears of angels glimmer;
As rainbow-dew upon the grass, their iridescent shimmer.

The slow, long years have worn away her pain, her flowered barrow;
A stately elm now marks her place, a place for lark and sparrow:
Forever she will breathe sweet air! And how the bright sun longs!
While old McGee in darkness withers, trapped where he belongs!

Some trials on my way,
have been tough, may I say.
Still the outcome was worth the struggle.
You by my side, and happiness is double.

You light up my days.
I love you all the ways.
I trust the feeling stays,
when the years pass away.

Double the love and joy.
I guess the meant to be boy,
you were and will be.
With you I feel free.

I sky dive in the wind.
There is nothing hindering.
I fly free, touch the sky.
No longer, I ask "why?"

Everything went, as it was meant.
My loving thoughts I send,
to those whose will is bend.
"Look at the spring, the snow has melt.
And believe in life, after turbulence."