Bringing poets together since 1998.

It's too dark fro me to see the brusies he gave to me, but when I go into the light they are such a hideous sight. So I try to run, runaway to some place where this pain will go away. As run I look around to see how far I've gone but as I look I know now that I am lost, I have become so very lost.

The funny thing about saddness, is that it makes you suffer and cause you so much pain that you want it to end so badly, but then you realize in time that this saddness that made you suffer made you stronger. It made you into a better person in a way, because you don't want to make others feel the same saddness and pain you have felt, from all that hurt saddness has caused. Anybody who has every suffered or is suffering will be a stronger person because they've already been through so much that nothing now can hurt them. 

The clock is 5 am and the poor old man starts to work

It’s not true, but anyway, he gives away a smirk

His life didn’t proved to be the one he fought for

He had ambitions and dreams but ended up in a department store

All he wanted was a career and somebody to love

He begged every day for help from the above

It never came

All he wanted was to give someone his family name

Life is not fair but that we already knew

And there’ nothing we can do

Wait and hope that it will be fine

Hopefully one day, you will shine

I feel sorry for him when I take the change

When I walk through the door, it feels so strange

What has he done to deserve this kind of life?

All he wanted to have, was a wife

The poor old man will work there until he dies

He will leave this reality without any goodbyes

I wish I could be his friend

But I don’t have the ability to pretend

My Dream

I dream of smelling roses, in the peak of spring

When blossom petals fall and the Robin birds sing

Just strolling taking things in my stride,

 Not once noticing life passing me by.

I dream of laughter, in the amazement of our glory

I dream of laughter even though I was sorry

I dream of sunshine when the clouds are grey

I dream of talking though I have not a word to say

I dream of loneliness with gray hair and old

I dream of dreaming of me becoming so bold

I dream of sacrifice, life and pain

I dream of me dreaming feeling alone and ashamed

One day I wish to stop dreaming to end all of these dreams

My fear my dreams won’t stop because I fear I am dreaming a dream

My dream is uncertain understanding and safe

Are my dreams trying to show me something possibly my fate

Are my dreams trying to unveil knowledge subconsciously to me

But because I a dreaming, my dream prevents me from foreseeing my dream

I feel more conscience feeling that I should wake up

My dream is so real what would happen if I woke up

I think I should continue dreaming, as it is comfortable and safe

I think I should stop dreaming

As I don’t want my life to waste

I think I should just stop thinking about dreaming a dream

And wake to reality as surreal as it seems

I think dreaming is bullshit as nothing ever gets done

I think dreaming is a waste of time

But surely now as I am thinking, I can’t be dreaming a dream

Oh this is just bullshit, bloody nonsense to me

This dream is crap I am going to change it

Wake up!!

I don't understand this dejected feeling that I feel

I just turn over, crawl then spill

Over the bend I go and you're there to laugh at your own will.

You pull my strings

I hold onto your lips

Is this a lie, is this real?

The wind brushes past my face, the thought of you is there.

I favour you in all my dreams

I'll fall into you, you'll drive into me

I'll hold you tight, don't let these vines let go.

Take my breath away

Tell me you miss me

Be mine

I look into your eyes, your stare Is in my mind

Where did you fall from? Hopefully into my arms

I care but sorry for my lack of charm

Don't ever say no, just smile for me

Oh god, you're beautiful.

Gutters round the roof edge

Fill up by some kind of magic

Catching twigs and leaves

The trees don't seem to want.

With or without snow

The refuse of the seasons

Gather in the down spouts at the ends

Keeping water from its jurney to the sea.

Twice a year the ladder must be brought

And lugged around the house

Scooping out the sludge and leaves

To drop in piles like stations of the cross.

With rake and gloves and wheeling barrow

Piles are swept into a heap

Then toted to the woods and dumped

In year marked hills to rot and someday rise again like oil.

Cycles within circles count the hours

Distant constelations swell and die

Icy comets mark events

To far away to see with naked eyes.

Every passing moment has its heralds

Some we know and some we never see

The cleaning out of gutters goes unnoted

Until the tears of heaven fall.

Just wanted to try this Blog thing out:

Pear Tree

“Had a Pear Tree, stood in the backyard,
lauding itself over the grass and shrubbery.
Bitter fruit, we picked too early every year,
either that or it was dying, wrapped our pears
in tin foil, left them in the airing cupboard, to ripen--
took far too long, ended up buying a few from the fruit shop,
never the same, chins sticky, juice lingering on fingers....”

Wasn't it a Pear Tree that Judas hung himself on?

(Nah it was an Oak tree.)

You sure?

(Wait no, it was a Fir Tree.)

I thought it was a Pine?

“You're all wrong it was a Joshua Tree.”

You sure? How'd you know?

“I read my bible, didn't I?”

You should know. I only ever did my Catechism once a month.
“Who made you?” God made me? Loada balls. Want us to believe--
the world was made in seven days.

(Six)

Six what?

(The world was made in six days. God rested on the seventh.
Though if it was me, I'd have spent the seventh with the missus)

Oh la di da, when'd you join the Church? Can you absolve
me of my sins? Oh Padre, save me. I looked upon your wife,
with lustful eyes, gouge them out and caste them asunder.

(Shut up, let the boy continue his story, go on...)

“Had a Pear Tree, stood in the backyard,
lauding itself over the grass and shrubbery,
bitter fruit, we picked too early every year,
either that or it was dying, wrapped our pears
in tin foil, left them in the airing cupboard, to ripen--
took far too long, ended up buying a few from the fruit shop,
never the same, chins sticky, juice sweet lingering on fingers...”

You've told us that bit.

“Maybe without interruptions I could get to the next part.”

(Knock, Knock.)

What?

(Knock, knock.)

Who's there?

(Interrupting Cow.)

Interrupting cow wh....

(Moo!)

Oh Ha Ha, tell me theologically speaking.
Was Judas to be blamed for his sin?
(What?)Was he to be blamed. Look at it this way,
God has a plan for us all. Surely
Judas had no option, but to betray our Saviour,
may he cleanse me of my sins.

“What's this got to do with my Pear Tree?”

(You brought it up.)

“No I didn't.”

Who did?

“You did.”

(No he did..)

Let's give it a rest. When's he get here?

(My son?)

Aye,When?

“What son?”

The one at war?

(No the other one.)

“What other one?”

I thought you only had one? Isn't he dead?
I thought the IRA got him? Passing information on to the Brits?

“Didn't they?”

(No he never. No they didn't)

What happened to him then?

(He's perfectly healthy.)

“Your sure?”

(Possibly)

Possibly? Possibly? Have us sitting here.
Out in the cold, waiting, and for no one.
May the Lord give me strength. HAS US
out in the cold waiting, for no one.
Hah give me a break. Doesn't seem to care.
My ass is freezing. He was meant to be here,
a whole hour ago.

(So?)

“If he's dead he won't get here.”

(He isn't)

Why hasn't he phoned then to explain why he is late?

(Doesn't have it on him.)

Continue the story, there's a good boy

“Had a Pear Tree, stood in the backyard,
lauding itself over the grass and shrubbery,
bitter fruit, we picked too early every year,
either that or it was dying, wrapped our pears
in tin foil, left them in the airing cupboard, to ripen--
took far too long, ended up buying a few from the fruit shop,
never the same, chins sticky, juice sweet lingering on fingers...”

Indigenous Monologue
 

Indigenous to cooler climates,
according to antiquity that is, stands in my back yard,
lauds itself over everything, over me, makes me feel--
inadequate. Planted the bastard thing,
forty years has made it stronger than myself,
only to be expected, can't even get a healthy piece of fruit from
the damned thing all bitter, never ripens no matter how long we leave it,
have to pretend the shop bought ones are those we've left to ripen,
can tell the kids don't believe it. Breaks their little hearts,
mine cold, but it warms me to see them smile, even a little, even a little.
Little faces chewing, medicinal properties, according to the Encyclopedia,
the Romans used them to cure stomach ache,
can tell you're interested, when I start the kids, drop off straight away,
sure fire way to win a few minutes peace. Ah yes, coffee?
Will you have a drink, stop by and don't take a drink, makes me feel bad.
What about a pear? Have a pear? Have a tea? Some tea? Go on. Fine
Suit yourself. What brings you to these parts anyway? Ah yes, I heard o'that.
Just too sad, wept a little, poor man, poor kid, only a boy of course. Twenty one.
What sort of age is that? Me, I'm sixty three and I'm still pottering on about m'buisness.
You come and you say nothing, I know I do all the talking, oh it makes me tired,
I wish you would speak, to me, I won't utter a word of what has been said.
I saw you with that boy. Don't worry we're all liberal here.
I'd have thrown you out otherwise. Do you think my tree is dying?
It looks a little weary I've done my best, but I can't help but think it's seen better days.
Still a damn site better than myself. My bones they ache, you know,
I count myself lucky to be still motoring on, but it's arthritis I know it is.
What will the kids say, I'm their only.... I'm their only..... I'm their only....
Blasted tongue, blasted mind, never co-operate I don't know what I wanted to say there.
Do forgive me. You're very quiet. Have I offended you?
I don't mean to swear. Sailor's wife I am. No wait sorry builder's wife,
doesn't have the same ring to it though does it? Are you crying? Don't cry.
Not on my behalf, I hate to see you cry, oh please stop, a man crying-- it's just wrong.
Smile, smile, that's it. Good boy. My tree. Do you think it's dying
 

She's My Lil Girl Yet hate Her as If She Wasnt Mine.She Mommy's angel But Kills Her with Anger .My Last and Yet I hate That Its True ..She my Lil Hateful one Yet I dis Own Her as If She Made Me Hate Her.never Giveing Her Tha Time or Day Mommys Loves to Hate You As She Sleeps I wachher As I Love To Slit Her Rist Wach Tha Blood Fall Frfm Her Body Rowing Her near To Death.No Ones here To help Her yet She Held Down <Crying mommy I Love You Help Me Plz!!!,.Never Knowing if This This Is What I Want How Can I Change My Life But Killing Her Will End her Pain Now I Can Never Hear Her Cry Never See Her Smile Yet I hatHer I Hate Her ..yet I Lovee Waching Her cry Out for help What Kind A mother Am I She Ask Im The Mother Whos Never Loved Or Gave A Shyt A Bout Any Body But My Dam Self How Much I'll lovee To Kiss You Wen Your Gone Knowing That I Can Never See You Face AGain but Yet I Have Love for .She Says (How Could Love Me When Im Your Child Yet You Kill ed Me )Every Scine Then Is Like She Never Leavs I Thought Killing Her Will make It Better But Yet Its makeing Me Crazy Makeing Me Hurt like I Never Did Be For How Could I have Killed My Baby My Lil Girl..Redemtion Thats What It Is Redemstion Thats What I Feel wishing I Can Take every thing back and start ova  wishing Airplanes And Tha Nite Sky as Like Shooting Stars So I Can Wish  Life Life Life ,,But Yet I Kill For A Nother Day Why IS She Still Here I Thought I gave Her Wat She wants She Says (Mother Its You Trun To feel What I felt Each And Everyday Dieing Slowy Yet No One Heres Me Crys No One Ever Knew A Bout Be Yet i Was Locked It Tha House Only Seeing Sun Light In A Bruning Crack ,,Seeing Only Black Walls Steal Doors Chained To A bed Like Im In A am Prison What Type Oh shyt Is That Crying Every nite like anyone Can Hear My Vocies Yet I Hated being In Thats Houes But Yet You Love Waching Me bleed  The Lost Souls Of Boys Nd Girls Now Mother Come See What I Never Got To See What I Missed Out On For 13 Years Of You Never Careing See All Ways Read In between Tha Line Theres Something You znever Thought You Will See.......Life Mommy Wake Up,Your Haveing AnBad Drean,,,,,,,,,,,The End