She sits, waiting,
The tension, suffocating.
Her heart palpitating,
The moment, nauseating.
Pencil ManPencil Man was something special,
He dreamed to be a hero.
To wear a cape
And "write all wrongs"
Would be his alter ego.
And "drawing swords"
With man and beast alike.
Those who called him 'yellow bellied'
Would see that he could fight!
But Pencil Man forgot one thing,
His one and only weakness,
She had quite the look,
She always left him speechless.
A night of passion soon ensued
He gave her all he could.
As morning came
All that remained
Was just some broken wood.
Nothing But A PuppetI am nothing but a puppet,
A thing that you control.
A simple wooden toy,
I do not have a soul.
I am nothing but a puppet,
Someone to do your bidding.
Your demands from my body,
I am nothing but a puppet,
Your fingers pull my strings.
They pull in all directions,
I am nothing but a puppet,
My strings down by my sides,
Trailing closely right behind me,
My eternally bounding ties.
TillieThere was a girl named Tillie,
Who was a little silly.
She wore hats for shoes
And marvelled at loos
And would only ever eat cold Chilli.
Melon-BabyMelon-Baby was round and sweet,
Almost far too cute to eat.
But in the rising Summer heat,
Temptation was too hard to beat.
One day as Mum strolled down the street,
With Melon-Baby tucked up neat,
Soundly snoring fast asleep,
Mum's hunger had begun to creep.
"It'll be some time before I eat,
I'll just munch on those little feet."
But when taste and tongue did meet,
Melon-Baby did soon deplete.
Melon-Baby was round and sweet,
Almost far too cute to eat.
But in the rising Summer heat,
Temptation was too hard to beat.
Accidents Happen"Fell down the stairs",
The classic line.
She gives this one
Each single time.
The doctor sighs
And shakes his head,
He looks at me
Laid on the bed.
"You clumsy girl,
Why can't you learn
To walk down stairs
I look at him,
I know the drill,
And say "I will".
He gives that look,
The kind that says,
You're lucky to have
A mum that cares.
"Take your lolly,
And go home now.
Mummy will keep
You safe and sound".
Mary-LynnMary-Lynn was quite the girl,
She had the strangest fear.
Nothing was more terrifying
Than when tin was near.
Yes, tin. Those metal cans
That hold food like spaghetti.
They do not breathe, they do not move,
But still they make her sweaty.
Rule Of Four (Collaborative Poem)One step, two step, three step, four,
It's creeping outside your bedroom door.
The Lonely Teddy Bear
A small tear falls,
A bear begins to weep.
He misses their cuddles
And watching her sleep.
Such happy times
They both once shared.
But now the room's silent
And the little bear is scared.
He doesn't understand
Why she had to go.
What in the world
Could take her so.
But now she is gone,
And the room is dead.
This bear's little head.
He continues to cry,
He will never forget,
The little girl,
This bear once met.
A Walk Into An OceanShe's walking into a cold bitter sea
She can feel the icy water touch her on the knee
She continues to walk further and further
Then it starts to hurt her
Her veins freezing like ice
At first the coldness felt nice
But then it makes her veins turn darker blue
And thats when her uncaring thoughts grew
She's shivering and cannot stop
And soon she hears a pop
She falls deeper and deeper under the water
She starts to wonder if sombody saw her
Gasping for a breath and pleading for a rest
Sinking to the bottom and curled in a nest
With her eyes closed and unable to breathe
Then she sinks and goes deeper underneath
She's at her watery grave
It would have been better if she would have been saved
It's a walk into an ocean nobody will forget
Now she is laying in her underwater pit
CloverStarts to bloom as the month changes to May.
You walk right past it everyday.
Without a glance, you will never see,
How beautiful this flower can be.
Rose, lily, carnation, daisy.
These flowers drive you crazy.
Beauty can't only be found in bold.
You miss what everyday life can hold.
Everyone strives to be extraordinary,
But misses beauty in the ordinary.
Speak to Me Speak to me in roars and booms like thunder,
To inspire wild visions in wonder.
Or whisper like the softest breeze in spring
Of a scholar who overthrew the king.
Debate in Fauvist colours, shamelessly bright
And dare to make sunshine in the dead of night.
Shout and scream, hoarse as the Bedlam inmate
On the dagger-sharp edges of cruel fate.
Lie to me in dull dreams like a trickster god,
Tell tales where I can spark like a lightning rod.
Murmur in tones from falsetto to baritone
And make the planets rumble with a song of their own.
Sing to me more skillfully than an opera star,
Like an angel but holier by far.
Laugh like Balder before the arrow struck;
Confident, easy and just out of luck.
But don't stay silent.
When the Clock Strikes Three
How do you know
Where you're going to be
When the bomb drops down
And the clock strikes Three?
Are you going to be happy
As you watch the world crumble?
Or will the feeling inside you
Make you worry and mumble?
Will you remember your life
As the way it used to be?
Or will you forget it all
And forget even me?
Will you regret anything
That you've said or done?
Or will you block out the thoughts
And decide to just run?
Are you happy with your life?
Do you think you have it all?
Or do you feel there's something missing
As you crouch down against that wall?
Will you realize the mistakes
That you've made so many times?
Will it jab you so hard in the chest
That it feels like a murderous crime?
What will be worse?
Your guilt or your pain?
Or will they both feel so harsh
That they both feel the same?
So tell me right now.
Is there anything you would like to say?
Before your world crashes down
and you leave us one day?
Please just take a brief moment
And think it all through
When the world crum
Fool The wise don't fear the unknown
A smiling fool said.
But he was a hypocrite because
He feared the dark beneath his bed.
Slaughter of the InnocentsIn the field the children now lay,
peacefully, as if sound asleep.
The very ground where they would play,
would now their bodies ever keep.
The friends they knew across the way,
changed in but a wink of an eye.
A godless urge to kill and slay,
left the whole world wondering, WHY???
Tribe against tribe, soon it was done,
the innocents died where they stood.
Machetes and knives under the sun,
there were some who did what they could.
Listen...can you hear the wind whispering...
Mournful sighs and silent cries,
angels weeping from on high.
Demons spread their wings to fly,
their lust for blood now satisfied.
Some would blame God, some would blame man,
some prefer to turn a deaf ear.
The truth is that the Devil's plan,
is to rule planet earth with fear.
All of the children, all of the men,
all of the women and the old,
soon will awaken and then, only then...
will a new world of peace then unfold.
See them play on yonder hill,
moon above, shadows still.
Monsters dead, their bitter
Life as I Know It.Life as I Know It.
I am waiting for my opportunity.
Waiting for someone to give me a chance.
It is difficult to stand out within the writing community.
We all have to jump through hoops and enact the same dance.
What more do I have to do to get you consider me.
I have worked hard to be consistent to show my commitment.
I am trying to be adaptive and pro active so nothing will hinder me.
But I understand that publishing opportunities will not come in an instant.
I just want more time to assess, address and process all of my objectives.
My dream is to be able to fashion my writing into a way of thriving and surviving.
But because of the requirements of society I am labored to be realistically selective.
I am too cautious of taking that creative risk on my wrists and whole heartedly dive in.
I am grateful for all the genuine correspondents and comments I have received.
I never knew how my words would be perceived and how that could inspire me to believe.
Out of nothing emerged something,
I am not British nor am I English,
I am a member of the planet earth.
My skin is black making it hard to distinguish
That I do not belong to any specific turf.
Although my passport may say otherwise
And there may be boxes I am forced to tick.
My Continental ties are instrumental in their eyes.
Just like you, I am vulnerable to stones and sticks.
My hair may be curly and my nose may be wide
But my extremities are bound to any communal cemetery.
If you would be willing to compare a picture of our insides.
You will see that our differences are purely elementary.
Yet you are conditioned to see me as incompatible
And this misplaced backhand is something I can understand.
Even though your judgments are far from factual.
Despite our fathers demands, I will still openly shake your hand.
I may wear trainers and you may wear shoes.
You might like rock music and I might prefer rap and reggae.
My team may win today and your team may lose.
But we both will eat, sleep and
Secondary Character And there was no thunderstorm for our heroine.
Nothing to echo her pain.
She was only one among so many others,
Wanting to be noticed was vain.
I use heroine loosely because she never fought,
Was gorgeous, or especially brave.
She was more of an awkward secondary character
That didn't want to behave.
And there was no first kiss in the pouring rain
But it would be crime
If the credits rolled before everything was fixed.
We'll hope there's still time.
The Great Day of Red Chocolate CommercialismThere's a hunger for romance that consumes the nation
With placards and tacky red grocery sensations
Dolled up in doilies of paper and lace
With commercialized amour all over the place
In crazy confetti I barely can stand
Lost in the love songs so bitterly bland
It seems the true meaning of love has been lost
We trade in sincerity for pizzazz and cost
The touch of a hand is now trumped by a card
Expression alone is unspeakably hard
I'll give you a daiquiri-truffle to drink
With intoxication my catch-phrase won't stink
Forget the old mantra 'commit to content'
In this day and age true love's Heaven-sent
Afraid of commitment we sell off this day
In every unspeakable heinous way
The flash and the fancy is naught but a mask
A prettied up carnival so we won't ask
My challenge for you is shockingly simple
Woo that cute coworker possessing dimples
Without romance your endeavors crumble to ash
You're better off stripping and jumping in trash
Valentine's Day is a chance to be true
StrugglesI clutched to the bars in desperation,
Never believed I was in void space;
I smashed the gold and silver to fragments,
Never believed I was incapacitated.
I lived in serenade,
Picture perfect I would be;
I was disillusioned,
And I chose to never parade it.
I imprison myself in desires,
While you waltz in my shadow;
My shadow's your podium to shine.
I clenched my fist so tight that they bled,
I like how the blood drips;
I dance in hysteria that they ridicule,
I like how their pain shows.
Was I afraid?Was I afraid? as of the distance
as if to never again see home
as the wanderer, wandering, fading into the distance
breathing life into an already dying poem.
As the waves that glistened, I was that lonesome one
the hopeless one but was I afraid
as the sumptuous and the ever looming dawn
as now the near-distant waves
those pages were somewhat sad and absent
was i the one that never had
was i the one that had grieved in absence
the son. the one without a dad.
Our MasksThe masks we wear are perfect
Never loose and rarely tight
They keep us safe from others
And keep our demons out of sight
They smile when we are broken
And laugh when we simply must
No blemish or imperfection
A creation that will never rust.
I seldom ever remember
Who I am without my mask
That to peel off that layer
Is such a daunting task
All others carry one as well
Wherever they may go
And no matter what is on their minds
Only the molded mask will show.
The lies they preach in public
Or the scars along their wrists
Are left mute to others knowledge
Ignorance is such a splendid gift
My mask is oh so perfect
Not a crack will show
Always sitting in its place
No matter what life will throw
See I’m worried of getting rid of mine
Too scared to let the world see
That behind my safe disguise
Is a dreadful, wounded me.
I’ll keep my mask tied tightly
I’m happy with it for now
But truth is I can’t remove it
The real me doesn’t know how.
Our Single DropThe raindrops patter on the back porch pane
To leave soft streams in their wake.
Rivulets so reminiscent run down,
Rivulets that some forsake.
As they race along the long glass window,
They can't see what they expend.
They travel the distance with fervid speed,
Though they wish not for its end.
They twist and turn on this short-lived path,
Never staying straight for long.
And while some will fade only halfway through,
Other raindrops will hold strong.
A tranquil puddle at the bottom forms
As the drops begin to pool.
I dip my hand in the miniature bath
And am woken with the cool.
It jolts nearly every sense alive;
I breathe deep to take it in.
Vapor and mist dampen the world around
And my thoughts of you begin.
Remember long ago by happenstance,
When we first met that one day?
Who would have guessed our precipitation
From the clouds was here to stay?
We started as separate particles,
Blown this way and that by gusts.
We joined together on that fateful day
And offered each other our trus
The Burden of StarsI have a burden in my chest
I’m ready to set free
A memory that I’ll plant beneath
A painted galaxy
I know how much you love the sky
so I’ll draw you the stars
(and comets gently passing by
a red and spinning Mars.)
Before I close this door in life –
it’s been, indeed, a test –
I’ll say my last good bye to what
it’s time to lay to rest.
It has been painful, difficult
and worth it, that I see.
The clouds will pass, and I confess
the stars were not for me
But if you think again, one day,
of watercolour skies,
remember when I used to see
the sunlight in your eyes.
MissingMaybe he's found his missing piece,
Maybe he's seeing something that isn't,
But he falls in love anyways,
Because what else can he do.
He was the most elegant flower,
However he was missing a petal,
And at long last he thought he found it!
But he didn't realize that a petal had to grow.
He spent days convincing the petal,
and eventually the petal agreed to be his,
So he put the petal where it should be,
But it fell off, so he put it back and it fell off again!
At long last he realized that perhaps,
"this isn't my missing piece....",
and he said to himself
"Maybe she is my missing piece,
maybe she isn't, either way, I'll be alright..."
And so he smiled a true smile,
because what else could he do
Beyond AbeyanceI used to write of darkness.
Of a place so hollow and apathetic,
And my insignificant place inside it.
But silence was deafening,
along with solitude savage.
I suffocated on thoughts of oblivion.
And I floated there.
my realm of
It wasn’t until I closed my eyes,
That I dreamed of COLOR.
C r e a t i o n f l o o d e d m y l u n g s,
And jump started my blood flow.
I was given all the universe
.........Of which to shape into something b e a u t i f u l..........
S o I g a v e l i f e.
I t o o k c o n t