freepoetry Poetry (51)

A PROCLAIMED PROMISE AS PROSCRIBED

Surely there must be music…………………………..
Hymnals heard to echo from walls leafed by genuine gold
As they cometh into His arms for to enfold
“Behold,” says he to a heart whose ease is now portended as being peaceful at last
“My children this is your new hearth, your sanctuary, your reward for a righteous past”
Hush now
The sacrosanct souls heard through their ears your names being sung by a choir of heroes in harmony heard
……..with God’s blessing and baptizing every beautiful word
And there set before you all is the promised table at which you all now sit in a most prominent and well deserved place
And then the latest arrival, this sanctified soul must soulfully lead us in saying “Grace”
There to dine on delights deemed by the heart of Jesus for His beloved ones
All his devoutly devoted daughters and all his sacred sons

So sit do they now at the right hand of reverence
For this lovely woman’s deliverance
Welcomed warmly by those she knew and those she never knew before
Urged with genuine congeniality through the Lord’s front door
“this is your new home with loved ones and the ones so soon to love”

your covenant is now considered complete, having duly been signed by you and the one high above
For they have arrived in a place privy only to the pious who have all paid their due
A place where aged wrinkles bring flesh soft as silk anew
A place sanctified by songs of gospel and glory combined
Heavenly sounds created by the hands and hearts of masters defined
……………………there
She is finally there
And surely majestic music is heralded and heard there…………………..
There simply must be music
© 2011.….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~

I WILL NOT, I CANNNOT

She lost most of her hair and lay still in her bed
An oxygen tank is her constant company
She smiles in the face of dreariness and dread
And sadly she’s breathing by brevity’s decree

Hers is a matter grave in consequence, nature and ways
It’s a sorrowful situation as the light dies in her eyes
Her condition has created dreadfully dreary days
Yet she spurts words of wisdom from a mind still so wise

Her arms but bones, her leg akin to a stick
Her body is rotting both outside and in
How sad it is to view beauty so perilously sick
And her condition proves EVEN YOUR GOD CAN SIN!

Personally I can’t visit her because too large is my heart
I can’t face the signs that she’s headed so soon for Heaven’
Aged is her body but quick is a mind that knows she’s soon to depart
And the greatest sin of all is that she is only eleven
© 2011.…Phreepoetree ~free cee!~

there was an old oak tree who spoke and gave me very good advice
he said that i'm really paying quite an exorbitant price
i forgave her when she believed she ought to rule
she forgave me, alas what a fool
each of us believing the other settled the score
so she got a good-looking boyfriend while i got a whore
she crossed the proverbial street by concrete's design
but i crossed a much more fatal line
she did that which she did because of a hormone
i did what I did fueled by dope and testosterone
it was a game of tit-for-tat with a worn out hat

her only solution was retribution
but i needed not her absolution
she thought she was smart but i was beyond brilliant
you see women get weary while men become resilient
what counts is the abiity to bounce rigt back
just to become declared and crowned the all around winner
yet the lady ain't never tasted triumph the way i did when i became a born-again sinner
there are some battles where each other declares itself the winner
ah, but the way it finally resolved itself was best for all concerned
i was riding on a cloud called yesterday aside all the things i've learned
In came a man with slicked back blue-black hair and a chisled chin
so i was there to watch seduction, sensuality and sin
and then she told the man to take a seat at the next stool
and i think they knew each other from high school

so after all, i think it's obvious who got to rule
while i always seem to bring the wrong song or a necessary tool and
finally the trouble became cruel
there are still a great many things i'd like to give to her please
or just let me tell her that she's a fool because she's leaving with a sexually transmitted disease
(c) 2011....Phreepoetree free cee!

A MAN MADE A MAD MASTER
It’s on it’s way headed directly this way
Actually it should have arrived yesterday
I can sense the aromatic aroma of aristocracy
And the smell of smugness which demands its arrival
With all the senselessness of salacious survival
It has no pungent nor odorous taste other than sour
And from a plush pulpit does it demand undiluted power

Whenever it shows up I am helpless against such a stern and tightly clenched fist
As I am held hostage in a mill and I am its grist
It doesn’t ask for a task to be done with a grin but rather clutches a riding crop
As I do its bidding sweat drop to tear drop
It arrives often and usually at night
When the marauding moon crosses the threshold of the sun
It bears no weapons for war upon
And all there is for us is to wait until its gone
As I fear too greatly to take up and readily run
But quiver in a corner fearing for everyone
Yet it sneaks in and declares its supremacy supreme
as i advise all whom i see that we are all going to scream
For it knows the secret that they need no weapons to kill
And as I said, all I am is more grist for the mill
In the middle of a cloud and sleeping on a dream
Scream!
That’s all I can do
And submit and be subservient to the sinfulness akin to every born again sinner
While each and every time it is determined the winner
I……….slave to a maudlin and murdering master
Warn I today, for everyone, of disaster
That is all I have to say
And I swear now, at this crucial hour, wickedness is on its way
© 2011.….Phreepoetry ~free cee!~

It bears no weapons forward upon

ALL TOO SOON I’LL FORGET YOUR NAME

Has anyone heard from the woman of words and winsome ways?
I haven’t heard from or about her for days
She’s the one who made six in the morning not seem too rough
And climbing out of bed didn’t seem quite as tough

Has anyone spoken to the lady who made me smile although it hurt?
She’s the one that made my personality seem not so curt
When we conversed it was as if a bird was home resting in his nest
And each of us was each other’s guest

Has anyone laid eyes on a lady who glows in the dark like the moon?
And makes the end of every evening sadly come too soon
It’s strange but not hearing from her is like a cup without some tea
And the only thing I’m petrified of is she might not give a damn about me

Has anyone read the words this woman spouts out with delight
Making the darkest of subjects suddenly seem bright
I know she’s very far from me but her writing was enough for me
And now six a.m. is tougher than it ever seemed to be
© 2011.….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~

OH SURE, THAT’S EASY FOR YOU TO SAY

They want to hear you say the word “yes”
And yes, oftentimes it’s best to confess
Admit your guilt and let the punishment fit the crime
Simply sit in a cell doing nothing but doing your time

Sometimes they’ll find out the truth in any event
And when they said “liar” you wondered what that meant
It means you told a falsehood with repercussions severe
And I’m telling you, being compliant is the only way out of here

Ain’t no riot going to open the cell lock for you
Ain’t no threat going to stop them from doing what they do
Tell them you won’t eat until you get a new trial
And they’ll let you starve to death due to denial

More often then not it’s best for the truth to be known
They don’t care how loudly you moan and groan
I’ve been here long enough to know it’s best to behave
But shit, I don’t care what’s best, I’ll lie and swear on my mother’s grave
© 2011.…Phreepoetree ~free cee!~
AUTHOR’S NOTE: There is no grave, she was cremated

A UNKIND KIND OF KINDLING

I am taking pictures off the wall
Then taking them to the flame
I am burning each and all
Food for a fire fueled by blame

Snapshots that still had the sweet aroma of your perfume
Here are the figures and figurines that once posed the query, “Can love get any better than this?
Figures and images we hung in the front room
And a thousand scenes of me giving you a kindling kiss

I never let things go but fought over so many paltry things
It’s easier burning photos than the memory of the night she took my name
A night of an angel in white and a man in black and tails trading rings
Further food for a fire fueled by shame

I’ll have to spackle those holes and heal them quite well
But I am incapable of healing what which has been done is done
I’ve a legion of sins and there’s so much more to tell
But what’s gone is gone so I’m burning pictures one by one

I will always remember when I first heard an angel’s song
Lyrics of love as two hearts were bound together by desire
But not even that angel could accept all that I’ve done wrong
Disregarding the deepest description of both desire and this fire

She knew I had to go as her face betrayed a frigid frown
It hadn’t been easy letting her down easy at all
I simply said “I’m saddling my horse Scout and leaving town”
And Scout is getting restless so I’ll stop taking pictures off the wall
© 2011.….Phreepoetree

RETURN TO TENDER

I wrote my lover a letter saying I wish you were here
I’m as lonely as a dove whose mate just died
In that letter I made my need for her amply clear
And I would let her know when all my tears finally have dried

Being alone like this banishes me to the limit of poisonous pain
Caught in a trap with no one to speak with or to
I’m consumed by damnation, disaster and disdain
While it’s really not easy to do that which I must do

Wishing she were here with me is absolutely futile
As I fuss and fight with Satan from far below
And not seeing her standing before me is brutal
It brutalizes and bruises me from head to toe

I wrote my lover a letter saying “my dear, I miss you so”
And if God knows what I should do please, I pray tell
If she ever get to read those words I will never know
Because there is no “Receipt return requested in hell”
© 2010.…….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~

I THOUGHT I HEARD THE WORD THIRD

I used to walk south to twenty-third and eighth then make a left hand turn
I walked all the way in ragged jeans and shoes that ain’t got no sole
My mission was to reach a man who actually made me wish to learn
To know the streets and read the faces as he did became my ultimate goal

He was filthy but with clothes not very old
His name was J. Harrington the third
More than a few of us sat transfixed on what we were told
And marveled at every single word

He’d describe what he nor anyone knew for sure
Is it darkness ever after or a table with Jesus as his newest guest
Is their deity sitting around inventing a new disease for which there is no cure
And all of us would praise Mr. Harrington at superiority’s request

He’d speak of the things he’s done that he can never take back
He was old now but his conscience would ever stay young
He spoke of life as if all we needed was a roof over a shack
And let go of the dreams of fancy to which we all clung

One morning of late I made my same old trip
Walk to a man I was beholden to for knowledge and more
He talked of steamers, steam engines and stowing away on a ship
But now we’re left on our own since Mr. J. Harrington the third gave up the night before
© 2011.…Phreepoetree ~free cee!~

BORN BLIND TO THE UNICURSE

Please advise me when I can open my eyes
Until then closed shall they be
I’m blinded and deafened to any lies
As angry grows the sea

I refuse to see the sadness I’ve seen
I won’t look at the ugliness mankind can’t deny
So give me a Jack with a beer back and a bit of Grenadine
As angry grows the sky

Were I to open mine eyes as of now I know what I’d see
I’d see the same waste and an eight year old kid with a gun
So why would I want to see the greedy, the needy and junkies like me?
As angry grows the sun

‘tis wrong to see what we’ve done to the earth
And now living on this planet has become a caustic curse
Our society is a monument to the death of merriment and mirth
As angry grows the universe
© 2011.….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~

D.N.R. EVER EVEN IF YOU THINK I CAN LIVE

Not one junkie I know has a test kit for purity
But I can tell you this much with surety
Although we should all be grateful for survival
I’d rather be declared dead on arrival

Frankly I’ve had enough of never being certain
And I begged the stagehand to bring down the curtain
An addict yearns for quality and a cloud like dream
But Then I awake in a hospital and begin to scream

I scream for the friends I’ve lost who were never revived
Shoot, I haven’t even a clue how I have survived
Every day I’m a pearl in peril on a random roulette wheel
Never knowing if I’ll O.D after I consume my last meal

So next time anyone sees me in the gutter simply leave me there
Because I can tell you this much and I’ll make it clear
I’ve never given a damn about religion or the Holy Bible
But I swear on it, please, this time let me be declared dead on arrival
© 2011 Poefree

HERS

The impresario’s impressive and imperialistic chalice of beauty owned it
And made no bones about it
All the documents were signed properly
Which thusly did make it her property
She used it for reasons and purposes for which it was made
Until the music might be made to fade

From the costume of her countenance did the lovely’s corsage come to fall upon the ground

As any man would swear to be the permanence finally she hath found
But she suffered not for there were men clawing and clamoring to pick it up
They were slightly built or short and some were very tall
Yes, the imperialistic aura and her glow proved she owned it all

It was her birthright
She was born with it
But never to suffer scorn for it
As her sheep were shorn of their dignity and/or pride
When the crown of luxury took every royal stride
And deemed a new subject to bid her every call
For this was a lady who truly had it all

She was the law, the layer, the jury and the judge
And men get a spark up their spine if she’d but give them a nudge
I’ve seen the pictures of her beauty which line the second floor hall
Why?
Because the preeminent pretty pretty much owns it all
© 2011.…..Phreepoetree ~free cee!~