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PoetryMama writes "What happened to hopes and dreams?
There are too many, it seems.
What is you true agenda?
This is not working, there's no doubt.
Do you feel trapped, is that what this is about?
You don't say what is on your mind.
You look past me, blind;
never stepping up to responsibility,
only showing humility.
Am I not smart? Am I not kind?
The answer, it seems I'll never find.
I try to be a great wife and mother.
Is there another?
We have our trials in life,
To do the best, was our strife.
It seems you're on cloud nine,
while I'm at home alone listening to our babies whine.
Click your heals and come back to Earth.
You have two responsibilites since their birth!
Wake up from this dream.
Take some of this stress I'm under, I could scream!"
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Posted by netwolf76 on Monday, July 27 @ Eastern Daylight Time (30 reads)
(comments? | Score: 3)
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PoetryMama writes " What if I were to die instead of wake,
what would you say?
What would be going through your mind?
Would you lie awake at night
thinking how I would have loved you until the end of time?
Would you wonder why you made my heart break...
Why you didn't treat me with love instead of hate.
Do you remember the tears leaving my face...
The way I walked with not so much grace?
Would you feel the way our hands intertwined?
The way you played games with my mind?
I subject all I am to you...
All I ask is you do the same too.
Will you remember if I was a good mother,
a good friend, a good lover?
If you had one thing to say, what would it be?
Would it be you were mean, you're sorry?
Would you say 'I miss her, I loved her. I wish I were nicer.'?
If I were to die instead of wake, what would you say?
"
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Posted by netwolf76 on Monday, July 27 @ Eastern Daylight Time (19 reads)
(comments? | Score: 0)
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PoetryMama writes "I am hurting and you aren't seeing it.
There's no one here to feel my pain.
Only people with something to gain.
I am nothing in a sea of faces.
Everyone is rushing,
rushing to get to their places.
No one stops to help the ones who fall down.
No one slows at the sight of a tear or a frown.
It doesn't matter what you do.
It doesn't matter who you are.
We are all here to live the best life we can, one and all.
Behind our money, our cars, and homes
We're the same as the next, skin and bones...
Hearts and souls.
Everyone wants someone to hold them and to hold.
Everyone is in a hurry though, not too bold.
Emotionless faces race to finish first,
It's been that way since before our birth.
Why can't we love then live, one and all?"
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Posted by netwolf76 on Monday, July 27 @ Eastern Daylight Time (18 reads)
(comments? | Score: 0)
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His throne by Stephen W Roberts
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StephenWRoberts writes "So here he is,
Sitting all alone.
Lost in loneliness,
Here on his throne.
This king of broken hearts,
Feeling sends chills to the bone.
Left lost in this world,
Here all on his own.
From deep within his chest,
He lets out a groan.
His mind and heart,
Trapped in a cyclone.
A king on his throne,
Apon his head placed a crown.
A Symbol of sadness,
He wears with a frown.
Somehow he got this way,
Became a royal clown.
A shell of his former self,
Of a man of such renown.
His Tears fall apon his cheeks,
He has never felt so down.
So much he feels submerged,
He fears that he may drown.
A man with a sunken heart,
If only his life could expire.
Move on into the next life,
From life simply retire.
Though this is not all true,
To say so would make him a liar.
To smile once again,
Is what he does require.
To be filled with happiness,
Trully burn with the fire.
To feel that once again,
Is what fuels his desire.
But that is not a real feeling,
Simply formed from his night.
Stripped from imagination,
For his own delight.
He does long for her,
His soul she can ignite.
To take away his sorrow,
Bring him into the light.
This is the real world not a fairy-tale,
Though he wants it with all his might.
He may not be able to love so true,
She is not able to save him in white.
He says it outloud,
All alone it is all that he hears.
She doesn't exist in this world,
Which is a plague apon his ears.
Even if she did exist,
In time she also disappears.
Leaving him lonely once again,
Left only with his souvenirs.
Which is why he is drowning,
Alone in his tears.
A king in his thrown,
Forced to face all of his fears."
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Posted by Netwolf76 on Wednesday, August 27 @ Eastern Daylight Time (25 reads)
(comments? | Score: 0)
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When my time comes By Stephen W Roberts
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StephenWRoberts writes "When my time comes,
I don't know who I'll be.
That reflection in the mirror,
I don't know who I'll see.
When my time comes,
I wonder what I'll have to say.
What wisdom I could pass along,
In the last moments of my final day.
When my time comes,
I don't know who I'll know.
Who would sit and hold my hand,
Who will mourn me once I go.
When my time comes,
I hope I go in peace.
But even if I'm in great pain,
In my release my pain will cease.
When my time comes,
Knowing I'm not into religious extremes.
I just hope it is beautiful,
As beautiful as my dreams"
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Posted by Netwolf76 on Wednesday, August 27 @ Eastern Daylight Time (24 reads)
(comments? | Score: 0)
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To every season by Stephen W Roberts
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StephenWRoberts writes "To every season here on earth.
There is a reason, be it death or birth.
The winds of change are always blowing.
The signs of it are forever showing.
Showing us the workings of this world.
Through the seasons we are hurled.
Hurled into a downward spiral of beauty and death.
To every season here on earth.
There is a reason, starting with birth.
Birth represented by the season of spring.
When the flowers are growing, The birds fly and sing.
The bees are all buzzing, There is life all around.
From those climbing in the tree, to those living in the ground.
With birth and hatching comes a new.
In the season of birth when the sky is so blue.
To every season here on earth.
There is a reason, we must gain our worth.
The sun is shining, the days are long.
Life is in full force, love has become so strong.
The season of learning, the season of light.
The time of great earning, A time to take flight.
Summer far to often goes by to fast.
It leaves us wishing, Wishing it could last.
To every season here on earth.
There is a reason, we examine our worth.
The world is changing, It's the time of great descent.
The Autumn orange marks this event.
The flowers are wilting, Insects are going.
The world is still spinning, The great changes are showing.
This time of longing, this time of knowing.
With the final falling of the leaves, It shall shortly be snowing.
To every season here on earth.
There is a reason, the coming of death means the bringing of birth.
For with a beginning, there must be an end.
For the cycle to continue, you must descend.
With the coming of the snow, an arctic wasteland this world shall be.
The time of the reaper, as your death is the final guarantee.
Though your heart and soul are frozen, Trapped in an icy tomb.
New life shall enter in time, Once you have met your doom.
Mourning is never in order, for the cycle is never through.
Once the ice is melted away, The seasons shall prove itself true.
"
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Posted by Netwolf76 on Wednesday, August 27 @ Eastern Daylight Time (22 reads)
(comments? | Score: 0)
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Time for me is running out Stephen W Roberts
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StephenWRoberts writes "My time has come to meet the gallows
Time for me is running out
Words of reason can not save me
My only crime was taking an alternate route
I simply wanted to be free
They called me a traitor to the throne
It appears to be an act of treason
To make a decision of your own
I spoke out against the king
Against his reign of slavery
Now I am going to loose my life
For commiting the only act of bravery
The rope is tight around my neck
My knees begin to shake
The floor drops out from under me
This hangman has made a grave mistake"
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Posted by Netwolf76 on Wednesday, August 27 @ Eastern Daylight Time (31 reads)
(comments? | Score: 1)
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Surgical addiction By STephen W Roberts
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StephenWRoberts writes "It would seem that you,
Feel no restriction.
With all of your,
Surgical addiction.
I alone,
Make my prediction.
Based on this,
Horrific depiction.
Of all of your,
Surgical affliction.
Day after day,
With Surgical Addiction.
Appears to me,
Like a crucifixion.
So you like the pain,
You like to suffer.
A girl like you,
Would need no buffer.
In and out,
You send it through.
I can never understand,
These things you do.
To alter ones self,
With cuts through the skin,
The outside is healing.
Though never within,
On and on.
You'll do it again,
The blood wipes away.
This is your sin,
Stitch after stitch.
You cause your infliction,
Day after day.
With surgical addiction.
"
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Posted by Netwolf76 on Wednesday, August 27 @ Eastern Daylight Time (23 reads)
(comments? | Score: 0)
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Cemetery By Stephen W Roberts
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StephenWRoberts writes "I saw a group of people in the cemetery today.
Crying over a loved one who had recently passed away.
If I had the chance to speak to them, I know not what I would say.
Kind words from a stranger rarely mean much anyway.
I noticed beyond the sadness of the recently deceased.
The beauty of the cemetery shockingly increased.
The trees standing ever so graceful, among the field of flowers.
So beautiful I could cry or just look at it for hours.
Gravestones go on and on as far as the eye can see.
How peaceful it must be, to rest for eternity. "
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Posted by Netwolf76 on Wednesday, August 27 @ Eastern Daylight Time (28 reads)
(comments? | Score: 0)
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Cleansed By Stephen W Roberts
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StephenWRoberts writes "He comes out of the forest of darkness to find the sunlight;
Waiting
Inviting.
The water as pure as the new born child;
Innocent
Unknowing.
He looks into the clear depth of the water.
As he looks he see's what he has become.
Hard, cold eyes stare back at him.
The eyes of pain.
They have seen and been through much.
Yet, he can see through them just as he can see throught the fresh spring water.
Rain falls from his eyes.
Love is what he longs for.
Friendship is what he has missed.
A storm is raging inside, a swirling vortex of dispair.
He realizes he is no longer pure, because he knows.
She taught him well.
Taught him of many things one should never have to know.
Love so sweet, piercing pain so true.
As he looks into the water, he looks into his soul.
Yet, there it is not so clear.
It is clouded by hatred for that is all he has come to know.
Hatred for life's little lessons, only taught by painful experiences.
He flinches at the sight of what he has become.
Rain falls from the sky, and clouds fill his heart.
He plunges into the water to which he is condemned.
Never to emerge from where he came.
He had to kill himself, for nothing good was left.
Shivering in the sunlight, the forest can behold the new."
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Posted by Netwolf76 on Wednesday, August 27 @ Eastern Daylight Time (28 reads)
(comments? | Score: 0)
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YOUR PUZZLE By Riki aka Erika Long
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HotWheels writes "Some Mysteries to life,
aren’t meant to be solved.
Some answers to questions,
no one’s been told.
Life is a puzzle,
an unfinished mask.
Finding your pieces,
are apart of your task.
The answers within,
lay deep in your soul.
Completing your puzzle,
Will make you feel whole.
To do your puzzle,
Will take time.
And then when you do,
You’ll have peace of mind.
By Riki aka Erika Long
"
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Posted by admin on Saturday, August 16 @ Eastern Daylight Time (31 reads)
(comments? | Score: 0)
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Sodium Arc Love Story By Joseph Quarles
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spookyjoe writes "Sodium Arc Love Story
By Joseph Quarles
There she stood under the pale light,
back lit and beautiful against the night.
my queen awash in the neon,
scepter of sparkly faux gold, tiara of aqua net,
and the flesh and buxom frame of
a goddess of the eve.
Dare I approach her? I am not worthy.
I have worshipped her from afar,
often times late at night in my car.
many letters written, but not delivered,
sweaty dreams, my desire untendered.
Dare I approach her? My Cleopatra, my Venus,
in her inky black boots. What gift could I give her,
that would pull her away from her suitors?
throngs of them she has, of her physical treasures they
wish to be looters.
Dare I approach her? I am not worthy. I cannot cross
the asphalt plain to the concrete pedestal
where she holds court anon.
Hera herself would blush with
jealousy at the beauty and imperial
visage which is sculpted, that face upon.
Dare I approach her? Alas! Sacrilege!
my hands tremble with rage, the blue furies have come.
they shackle her and disperse the suitors,
common wastrels scattered to the wind, her court undone.
Do they not understand, here is her one true love?
Dare I approach her? I was not brave enough to
sweep in and snatch her from the black and white chariot.
a daring rescue, that is the deed. I will pay the
gold ransom to free her and take her back to the Marriot.
I start up my steed and roll thru the dark,
approaching the fortress that holds my true love.
I will rescue my Persephone, she will understand,
she will love me, will she not?
"
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Posted by Netwolf76 on Wednesday, August 13 @ Eastern Daylight Time (23 reads)
(comments? | Score: 0)
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Free by Joseph M. Quarles
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spookyjoe writes "Free
Copyright © 2007 by Joseph M. Quarles. All Rights Reserved.
Free,
to run cross fields
snow dusted.
Free,
to skip across
azure lakes.
Free,
to dive deep
and taste the salt of the sea.
Free,
to punch through the curtain
of twilight and slap stars aside.
"
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Posted by Netwolf76 on Wednesday, August 13 @ Eastern Daylight Time (20 reads)
(comments? | Score: 0)
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Hotwheels writes " I was incredibly intelligent, so sporty and so bright.
It was all taken away, in one single night.
I was only nine and suffered a severe asthma attack.
I had to start all over, it put me off track.
My heart stopped for three minutes, I was declared dead.
But turns out I wasn’t, I just had a hard road ahead.
I lost my speech and had to relearn how to talk.
I’m in a wheel-chair now, but with help I can walk.
I take up to thirty tablets, a ritual chore each day.
I’m only twenty five and I have a lot to say.
Life is frustrating and painful but there’s a reason I live.
I’m here for a purpose, a purpose to give
.Yes I now have a challenge, but I’m here to inspire.
I’m not sitting back, waiting to expire.
By “Riki” aka ERIKA LONG"
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Posted by netwolf76 on Thursday, August 07 @ Eastern Daylight Time (23 reads)
(comments? | Score: 3)
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3SOME writes " From this earth
By: Norman W. Ellis
The clouds are heavy
And rolling through the sky.
As if they are following me
through my mind.
My feelings of pain are whirling with tears.
What will I do without you here?
It is Like a storm at night
causing me fear.
You can’t hold me close
or kiss away my tears.
These acts of love and care I will miss.
But having you beside me
will be the most of this.
From this earth you came to me.
our Memories together
I will always see.
of this earth you now become.
To bring new life
like the rain and sun.
With out these thing
life can not be.
now life on earth
takes a part of me.
So the time we had
will always be.
"
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my father you will always be
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3SOME writes "My father you will always be
By: Norman W. Ellis
Why does there have to be a day
When god says
you have to go away?
This is something hard
for a man Like me
To understand.
you always told me
be strong
and never give in.
But yet
my heart is pounding
And my mind is in a whirlwind.
Why can’t I stop feeling
That this is so unfair?
And knowing
when I turn to look for you,
You won’t be there.
Trying to say these things right now
Is hard for me to do.
Even though you’ve taught me
to be honest and true.
Having you in my life
is a part I will never forget.
Because with out you in my life
It would be like we never met.
And that to me
sounds like giving in.
To loose those memories
we had together
would turn me dark
from within.
From fishing on the lake
to bringing home the Christmas tree.
Because of those type of memories
My father you will always be.
"
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3SOME writes " Choices
By: Norman W. Ellis
All through life there are
Choices to make.
You must decide
stay or go
give or take.
Reward or fate
Will be at stake.
But that is not
The most important
Of the choices you make.
Other people will feel it too.
So how it turns out
Is up to you.
good or bad it must be made.
So choices through life
Will seal your fate.
"
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3SOME writes "
Thoughts to words
By Norman W. Ellis
So I think I know what to say right now.
But my thoughts to words come out how?
I can say I loved her
I could say I’ll miss her.
But do these word make my feelings sound full and out loud?
Can these words show people the way I really feel?
Do you know the true sense of these words I use?
is it surreal?
To say I’ll miss her is not enough.
To find my feelings in these common words
will be tough.
Does it say my heart aches with pain
from the loss of this person I love?
Could it Say I feel hollow,
incomplete
lost
or even numb?
To only say
I’ll miss her
would be dumb.
So no more does I’ll miss her
cover how I feel.
To me these words
ring un real.
To make these words able
to remember how I feel.
To make these words
sound truly surreal.
To roll through the years
of memories we have together,
Wow!
where to begin.
To remember the person
that filled those things missing in my life,
and what she had a part in.
to get dressed up for shopping
or maybe go dancing at night.
To just sit
talk
and feel good inside.
To explain the pain
from how I feel after that fight.
Or remember going to the park
and letting out the kid
when swinging
or playing on the slide.
Could I’ll miss her ever explain
how this person impacted my life?
No way
no how
not these words,
they will not strive.
With these words you can’t here the joy
the pain
the love.
But yet I know
from the body of these words
they mean to say,
Every single part
of this letter
I’m reading
Here
to you
today.
"
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netwolfdaddy writes " Us
By: Eric McMahel
I cannot believe it's been more than two years,
since these eyes of mine have had to shed tears.
I love you more with each passing day,
if your love cost my life you know I would pay.
You make me feel happy you make me feel loved,
you gave my heart wings and it flies like a dove.
You're smart, you're pretty, you're loyal and fun,
the warmth from your heart just shines like the sun.
So look in my eyes like you always do,
and know what I say is nothing but true.
If you ever get down or start feeling blue,
just think of me and these words,
and my love be with you.
"
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netwolfdaddy writes "I sat and read by fire’s glow,
My favorite Edgar Allen Poe.
I finished reading about That Bird,
When suddenly a sound was heard.
Startled by coincidences,
But I came back to my senses.
Twas a knock upon my door,
That had rattled through my core.
I thought it similar to what I’d read,
But I pushed that thought out of my head.
I went to answer the late night call,
And saw nothing but my neighbors wall.
“A prank.” I thought and nothing more,
So I went to read some more.
As the story continued on,
I began to think my mind was gone.
For upon my wooden door,
I heard the caller knock once more.
I laid the book upon my lap,
And gave my face a gentle slap.
Lack of sleep, did shake my nerves,
“This couldn’t be about That Bird.”
I stood and crept across the floor,
To peer through the peephole in my door.
I could not see through that hole,
For the night had grown as black as coal.
I turned the knob, the door swung wide,
A Man in Black rushed inside.
The door had knocked me on my back,
And rushed by me this Man in Black.
“Who are you?” I asked in fear,
“And why exactly are you here?”
He reached down and grabbed the book,
He didn’t even turn to look.
I’m sure I trembled as I stood,
This man before me wore a hood.
The scene now looking very bad,
The man in black could be quite mad.
As he surveyed the tattered book,
My entire body shook.
I could have ran, I should have fled,
But many questions filled my head.
Who is this man who just barged in?
I could not get a look at him.
Twas then that he removed his cloak,
And only then the silence broke.
He said to me “I like your taste.”
But still I could not see his face.
“Thank you, sir.” I said to him,
“But who are you?” I asked again.
He replied “Once alive but now I’m dead.”
He turned and added “Call me Ed.”
Sometimes my mind plays tricks and lies,
But my hero stood before my eyes.
Maybe fear or maybe strain,
But I believed my rattled brain.
How it was I’ll never know,
But the hooded man was Poe!
Like a child seeing Santa Clause,
I hugged the man, consumed by awe.
He sat and talked a while with me,
We joked and laughed and shared some tea.
He shared with me his point of view,
That man who’d always been my muse.
I gained much wisdom from our talk,
We played some cards and took a walk.
I fell asleep as the night wore on,
And when I woke the man was gone.
I thought I was mad or maybe ill,
But in his tea cup was a quill.
I’ve given up my daily grind,
And now make a living with my mind.
I write short stories poems and books,
Which sometimes earns me funny looks.
Now when I sit down to write,
I see a welcome familiar sight.
“Nevermore” is never heard,
But on my sill sits That Bird.
"
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