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post-a-poem

RJHarmony84

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ok, this is really a game--and if you like a poem, that's ok too but post a poem too. rules are--you gotta post a poem! :cool:
here's mine:

Gray Day
The world is sad today—
Gray skies,
Dove-colored eyes
Through which the soul of the world
Can be seen, weeping.
And my soul, too,
Is swept along
In a current of salty rain.
To watch such sorrow
Only brings us pain…
Why, then, do we find such comfort
In joining the rain?


:cry: ....lol, just kidding. next! :cool:
 
S

superhawk007

Guest


k heres a quick one

Waiting in fear wondering if the hammer will fall
Knowing I am so wrong I feel the pain with every thought.
fear and shame quickly try to steal joy how when did i miss the call
seeing the devastation and frustration my own sin has wrought

Lowly i stand head hung in shame tears trying to escape from tightened eyes
I can not i will not be weak i will be strong next time i wont fall
silently i hear it shrieking laughing mocking You're no good no matter how you try
shaking agony gripping my soul wailing weeping i have no control none at all

How i wonder when did i become detestable. You cant go back i hear the whisper
defeated and beaten falling to the ground unable to fight the tears unrestrained
the voice tells me I am unworthy Unholy God can not love me i should dissapear
Filthy shamefull creature I am. I should release relent yeild to the pain

but then it happens as I let go a peace a joy like i've never known
a friend and lover holds me near and whispers loving words ones id like to hear
he tells me he loves me im worthy and able it makes my heart groan
I'm not worthy i dont deserve it I yell Im filthy and dirty How can you come so near

Then with few words he healed me that day.Its not about what you did but who I am
The love my Father has is constantly around. it can not be measured nor bound
He gave me a job and with that done you are now me in his eyes his son. I am
Your right you dont deserve it but my friend you qualify. And then he held me making no sound.
 
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Space_Oddity

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I wrote this about a week ago. I hope it speaks to someone.


Life drains me...I am empty.
A glass filled with dust,
holding what I do not want yet cannot control.
I am reminded then that every day is just another day and not something special in it's own right.

Dear God, fill this empty glass,
That I may feel your presence inside aswell as without,
That I could see the seemingly endless precession of days
as the infinate outpouring of your grace and love,
as part of something greater, as part of something besides what I can touch or feel or see or hope for.
As Something God-given, as something given to me.

But as another day's end turns into a day's beginning,
I am left feeling just as empty, more then empty, then I ever was before.
Trying to fill the void, I hope, I plan, I dream for for stars
to come down and touch me from their lofty heights.
A sea of people, of have-tos, of responsibilities swerel around me,
I embrace them as they numb the pain and frustration,
but then they are gone and I am left again to my own devices.
To my own thoughts. To my own lonely corner of mind.
A hope is dashed, a plan foiled, a dream slowly fades away...

As the day ends, it becomes another's beginning.
As my dream is lost, it becomes the hope of another dream,
As my hope fades, it becomes another hurt,
As my pain numbs, it becomes another void.
Life drains me...I am empty.

Dear God, fill this empty vessel,
That I'd be filled with hope for a future filled with your love,
That I'd be surrounded by your security that I may sleep in peace and dream of your dwelling place,
That I'd see your work in my life, your plans for my life far better then my own.

Oh God, save me from myself and the desires that threaten to choke the life from me!
From the snare hiding in the shadows,
From the tempation of the unrightous,
That I may praise you all the days of my life.

My life is empty,
fill it.
 
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dawnsday

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Her mother snorted
one more line of meth
after enjoying
a strung out night of sex
then whispered next
in the ear of her father
come dear it’s time
to give birth to our daughter
so began the real life
of Jasmine Rose
She was born lifeless
her muscles paralyzed
and it’s god’s miracle
that she survived the night
She spent her first three months
in the hospitals sterile gloom
while her mom and dad left
rarely a visit to her room
they needed more meth
so they were away
when the doctors proclaimed
the diagnosis was made
congential muscular dystrophy
bones frail as a woman of eighty
uncorrectable skull deformity
face pressed harsh to one side
cleft pallet and her feet
twisted hard to the sides
mental retardation and
a shortened span of her life
child services stepped in
and took her and her brother
to a mom and dad who wanted her
so bad it made them ache
soon after her mom ran
too weak in this life
pregnant by another man
not willing to give up her high
just as she was attached
to her new mom and dad
her father admitted
he was addicted
and finally kicked his
smack habit
she and her brother
were giving back to him
because the social worker
didn’t see his hidden sin
he gave up the speed
and his live of crime
but was deep in the bottle
most of his time
She’s four now
her brother soon will be six
and no matter how many
calls i make to dfs i can’t fix this
and the rage some nights consumes me
as i see my daughter lie safely
in her bed with her clean white sheets
because i know things
like the time her daddy broke her right arm
claiming they were playing
and he didn’t mean any harm
or how he would drive her
to school drunk and nobody knew
how he punched his son
he told me this and i saw the bruise
and how he hit me
and how i never know
if he’ll beat them that way
in a few years when they grow
so for now that girl walks
and at times finds the strength
to run with the friends
she has finally made
they’ve yet to make fun
of her paralyzed face
or her meshed up words
that could be fixed
if her father would go to the doctor
and get the bottle off his lips
i’ve seen in that girls eyes
and there is the purest soul
and loving nature behind
the hatred that soon will take it’s toll
No, she will never grow
she will never dance
she will never even
get to have the chance
to dream and she’ll be lucky
if she barely lives til twenty
her mind will never expand
mature enough to love a man
by eleven chances are
her legs will have given out
and she will be then on
forever wheel chair bound
and one day while she sleeps
one of her chronic muscle cramps
will quietly come and creep
up on her in the night
and her heart or lungs will strain
and she will die
that is the true story
of this girls life
the reality
of what happens
when women use while pregnant
and the terrifying proof that
the system has failed us
i’m blessed to have known her
i hate that i can’t save her
it fills me with pain
and ravages me with anger
she has taught me to be grateful
for each moment i have
with my own little girl
and that she doesn’t have
to live with that hurt
so to give that girl glory
i had to share with the world
the very trury story
of the real life
of Jasmine Rose
 
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Mar 1, 2005
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o my gosh!
those are some AMAZING works, guys!!!
Thanks so much for sharing!!!


Here's one of mine:

Always Never

Loneliness is all you’ll ever feel;
Get used to it.
Sadness will always be near.
You are bound to it.


You’ll never find your escape.
You’ll never discover who you are.
You’ll always just be you.
Stinks, doesn’t it?


In your shell, by yourself,
You will always be.


You’re always over here.
They’re always over there.
You’ll always be alone.
Get used to it.


This little voice inside me screams.
Another voice inside me cries.
A smaller voice still
Whispers my name:
“You are Mine,
And I love you for eternity.”


Things will always be the same.
“They may,
But I will always be the same”
They will always run away.
“They may,
But I will never run away.
I will always never run away.
I am here to stay.”
 
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dawnsday

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Imagine_your_dreams said:
o my gosh!
those are some AMAZING works, guys!!!
Thanks so much for sharing!!!


Here's one of mine:

Always Never

Loneliness is all you’ll ever feel;
Get used to it.
Sadness will always be near.
You are bound to it.


You’ll never find your escape.
You’ll never discover who you are.
You’ll always just be you.
Stinks, doesn’t it?


In your shell, by yourself,
You will always be.


You’re always over here.
They’re always over there.
You’ll always be alone.
Get used to it.


This little voice inside me screams.
Another voice inside me cries.
A smaller voice still
Whispers my name:
“You are Mine,
And I love you for eternity.”


Things will always be the same.
“They may,
But I will always be the same”
They will always run away.
“They may,
But I will never run away.
I will always never run away.
I am here to stay.”


you are very good...that one is definately going on my fridge...a nice reminder when things are low...which they tend to be much of the time...thank you for that.
 
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flutterby

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Apr 27, 2005
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dawnsday said:
Her mother snorted
one more line of meth
after enjoying
a strung out night of sex
then whispered next
in the ear of her father
come dear it?s time
to give birth to our daughter
so began the real life
of Jasmine Rose
She was born lifeless
her muscles paralyzed
and it?s god?s miracle
that she survived the night
She spent her first three months
in the hospitals sterile gloom
while her mom and dad left
rarely a visit to her room
they needed more meth
so they were away
when the doctors proclaimed
the diagnosis was made
congential muscular dystrophy
bones frail as a woman of eighty
uncorrectable skull deformity
face pressed harsh to one side
cleft pallet and her feet
twisted hard to the sides
mental retardation and
a shortened span of her life
child services stepped in
and took her and her brother
to a mom and dad who wanted her
so bad it made them ache
soon after her mom ran
too weak in this life
pregnant by another man
not willing to give up her high
just as she was attached
to her new mom and dad
her father admitted
he was addicted
and finally kicked his
smack habit
she and her brother
were giving back to him
because the social worker
didn?t see his hidden sin
he gave up the speed
and his live of crime
but was deep in the bottle
most of his time
She?s four now
her brother soon will be six
and no matter how many
calls i make to dfs i can?t fix this
and the rage some nights consumes me
as i see my daughter lie safely
in her bed with her clean white sheets
because i know things
like the time her daddy broke her right arm
claiming they were playing
and he didn?t mean any harm
or how he would drive her
to school drunk and nobody knew
how he punched his son
he told me this and i saw the bruise
and how he hit me
and how i never know
if he?ll beat them that way
in a few years when they grow
so for now that girl walks
and at times finds the strength
to run with the friends
she has finally made
they?ve yet to make fun
of her paralyzed face
or her meshed up words
that could be fixed
if her father would go to the doctor
and get the bottle off his lips
i?ve seen in that girls eyes
and there is the purest soul
and loving nature behind
the hatred that soon will take it?s toll
No, she will never grow
she will never dance
she will never even
get to have the chance
to dream and she?ll be lucky
if she barely lives til twenty
her mind will never expand
mature enough to love a man
by eleven chances are
her legs will have given out
and she will be then on
forever wheel chair bound
and one day while she sleeps
one of her chronic muscle cramps
will quietly come and creep
up on her in the night
and her heart or lungs will strain
and she will die
that is the true story
of this girls life
the reality
of what happens
when women use while pregnant
and the terrifying proof that
the system has failed us
i?m blessed to have known her
i hate that i can?t save her
it fills me with pain
and ravages me with anger
she has taught me to be grateful
for each moment i have
with my own little girl
and that she doesn?t have
to live with that hurt
so to give that girl glory
i had to share with the world
the very trury story
of the real life
of Jasmine Rose


This touched me so much dawnsday. Thank you.


Here is one:


Flowers in the Mud

You can't see me
I'm in the darkness surrounded by decay and loneliness
I'm reaching and striving upward longing for warmth and light
Forces are restraining me, smothering me
My inner strength, my longing, my drive
Keep me moving toward what?
Will it be better? Will I be seen, loved, contemplated?
You don't know me but God willing you will
Within me is such giving, such glory
All I want is to make you feel seen, loved, contemplated
Can you see me now? Come closer. Don't be shy
I came just for you. I am the flower in the mud.
We're not so different, you and I.
You have had to push yourself up out of the darkness.
Your inner strength is as great as mine. Maybe stronger
Your true beauty has come to light after struggling against the forces
God Himself called our names and we followed his voice
Now is our time to feel His love, His warmth
Our God given beauty is both our gift and our debt
During our season on this earth we must share our wondrous beauty in hopes that we will
serve as a beacon to other flowers struggling to come out of the mud.


f
 
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RJHarmony84

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flutterby said:
Here is one:


Flowers in the Mud

You can't see me
I'm in the darkness surrounded by decay and loneliness
I'm reaching and striving upward longing for warmth and light
Forces are restraining me, smothering me
My inner strength, my longing, my drive
Keep me moving toward what?
Will it be better? Will I be seen, loved, contemplated?
You don't know me but God willing you will
Within me is such giving, such glory
All I want is to make you feel seen, loved, contemplated
Can you see me now? Come closer. Don't be shy
I came just for you. I am the flower in the mud.
We're not so different, you and I.
You have had to push yourself up out of the darkness.
Your inner strength is as great as mine. Maybe stronger
Your true beauty has come to light after struggling against the forces
God Himself called our names and we followed his voice
Now is our time to feel His love, His warmth
Our God given beauty is both our gift and our debt
During our season on this earth we must share our wondrous beauty in hopes that we will
serve as a beacon to other flowers struggling to come out of the mud.


f

I'm going to share this one with my Mom--hope you don't mind. :) You are truely talented!
Actually, All of you are talented. I should have called this thread the Poet's Haven...every time I come back, I'm going to read them all!

Here's one of my older poems, from High school--hope you like. :)

For a tree’s life

I wish that I could be a tree;
I’d fly far and fast on stiff wooden wings,
Settle deep into dark, forgiving earth,
And there begin to grow.
I’d turn out my leaves fresh and new every spring,
And put my flowers on display for awhile,
Birds might nest in my branches,
Children might carve their initials,
And I wouldn’t need to care.
I’d bend when the wind blew,
Stand naked outdoors in the coldest winter,
Sing softly for joy when the rain fell,
Using my leaves and branches as an instrument
Of quiet happiness.

:crossrc:
 
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