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While we respect our Poets' freedom of expression, there are certain subjects and content that will not be allowed on PoetrySoup. Posting poems containing this content will result in deletion of your poetry and possible membership suspension for repeat offenders. Examples of unacceptable content or subjects are:
- Sexually Explicit (X-Rated) Language
- Profanity (Curse Words)
- Vulgarity
- Personal Attacks or Battles (Do not use a poet's name unless it is used in a positive way)
- Hateful Expressions (E.g. "I should have killed her")
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- Rule violators receive only one warning before accounts are deleted. If you attack other poets, your account (poems and comments) will be immediately removed.
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The clarinet glass lover -
the return of the clarinet glass lover
wake up with a wine glass clarinet shape
in your hands to feel the boiling tinge
it seems exactly how my fingers craft
looking over absolutely riveting
how the miracle drips
i raise my glass
piking to a shrine or a dumb flute
close to a hot bath
plays the clarinet glass
my shape it weaves in a cheer
War Heroes
Between black wheel tarmac
the crossing reflects a figure in polished paint
at the stagger of his old loose feet
crosses the barrier of traffic
with the beacons conversation meaning nothing
its flashing occupation signals his lolled neck stumbling
sucks the bottle for one last time
and forgets
Sighting on blurred reactions
sipping the spit of his dribble he stares at his daughter mannequin
wincing past his performance
begging her to listen
while her attention is fixed ahead
the traffic rolls slick full of monoxide toxic
breathes the waste of her distress
she ignores the principal wave of his bottle
releasing her breath with the clutch
the zebra smells like a mouse trap
the white ladder bars and black adder cars
bump pristine edges on his boots
he sways across
The market trolleys squeak echoes the ache
she steps on tender ankles
swollen while he eases her past the cardboard
the plastic bags of her life crammed to full
the tatters of memories
she thinks of china cups and lost children
on blazing streets that lived on rations
Some where in her mind he is a hero
medals adorning his battered uniform
the traffic roars as loud as the blitz
some where in his mind he sees her yellow skin
the gunpowder struggle and the munitions factory
have worn away her beauty but still her eyes are sweet and lovely
and the traffic blasts like the blitz
on the people they were before
I remember so often in elementary
When teachers would ask us to write about our family
I would always write about you first
Read it aloud and claim you’re the best
I was young, didn’t know what’s right or wrong
Didn’t bother even if not once ever did you offer me a song
Didn’t wonder why you never read me a story
Cause my teachers would always say “give your father the glory”
I always do what you told me, don’t know ‘til when
Though my siblings were crying every now and then
Though my mother would weep thinking we couldn’t see
But to me you’re superman and that’s all you’ll ever be
I never questioned what you do
Though at times you just come home drunk out of the blue
Though at times I wonder why you carry other children on your lap
While you left me all alone on the mat
Do you even know how painful it was?
When you called me dumb out right
When I strived to always be the first
But not once did you ever congratulate me
Do you even know how hard to hide the fright?
When you banged my sister’s door with all your might
When I heard you beating your sick little brother in the middle of the night
But at that time I still believed you’re right
Stupid me, stupid naïve little me
But things change don’t they?
Like night has its day
I saw what’s it like in other houses
I started asking why my mother married you,
Had she had no other choices?
Now they say you’ve changed
In and out of the church
Helping others with your prayers
But eighteen years is just too long
I won’t even bother if you sing me a song
Though rarely did you spank me
Psychological torture etched a deep scar in me
So Pa, sorry for growing up so fast
Sorry my childhood naivety didn’t last
I’m no longer Daddy’s girl now, you see
Cause that little girl was just the blind me
Father in heaven
Please to my prayer listen
My only son kindly bless him
To war in Iraq he is going
I don’t ask for gold or silver
Only Thy protection and care
Kindly watch every step he makes
Please be with him every moment
When he was still a lad
My dream was him to be your servant
I gave him your name, ABDI-EL
Meaning servant of God
Father, once more I beg of you
Shield him with your salvation
Against the enemies of democracy
Allow him to return to us safely
I promise unto You, Oh Loving Father
A thanksgiving to you we will offer
A token of appreciation for saving my boy
And be with us once more
By Jese "Booboo" Trotter
.....Like A Gost.....
............Im Waiting............
..................Seperated....................
...............Im Fading.....................................
..........................Bonded By Love.......................
.............My Heart Is Stuck.................................
............Through Miles Of Concrete............
...................Will We Ever Give Up??..............
..............Floating On The Wind............
.......A Letter From Him.......
Floating On The Wind
A Paper Flower
Ink
Smudged
By
Tears
And
Rain
Read
My
Heart
Never
Give
Up>
My
Love
I
Promise
Ill
Never
Give
Up
...........................We Are Not Doomed
Forever..................................................................
.................................Ill Find
You......................................................................................
............................................Again...................................................................................
..............................................And We'll Be
Together.........................................................
the way i made things
the way they should to be
man is the image of me
women the image of my goal
the universe made for she
and man but a pillar
like a strong tall pillar
man is to stand for she
holder of unconditional things
holder of her hearts goal
seer of what is to be
a pillar standing tall like me
a chisel is what i made she
to etch on the pillar
that is the image of me
to write her heart apon me
scripting her dreams to be
binding unconditional things
sorrowful is the blank pillar
never have felt the cut of she
her etching is my goal
waiting for her chisel upon me
a pillar is empty of things
dreaming of script to be
untamed and lost is she
without the image of me
apart the chisel and pillar
have but empty things
nothing but what could be
and a silent distant goal
when the chisel meets me
script dreams upon a pillar
bare unconditional things
writer of the seers goal
free is the hand of she
the etch her dreams on me
this is the way i mad things
and the they should be
a universe for a chisel and pillar
.Love
Love, in the time war
has not spared
a single deserted heart.
While bleeding to death
still love escapes
to some moonland
nonexistent.
politics of love
knows theories, so strange.
=© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar
Building castles of love
All the way high to the sky
I fly past the clouds
And reach far beyond the stars
Each time I think of your love.
A fragment of your shattered soul is all I have since last we met;
it wavers to the gentle sigh of nature's woodwind melody.
I stand before horizon blue with living-love at fingertips;
like a blooming heart, its crimson cast intones a blissful purity.
A faint sensation weaves throughout the solitary atmosphere;
its aromatic subtlety alleviates my wistful mind.
Your tender touch and sprightly smile, I now recall so vividly.
In a joyous breath, my inner being is purged of its dysphoric bind.
A fragment of your shattered soul is all I have, but now I know;
its vernal pulse must be returned so that you can be truly free.
My last goodbye, I give to you before I set your love adrift.
I am grateful that you took the time to plant yourself and grow in me.
Like the petals of this rose, you'll be...
an eternally fragrant memory.
Numbing the persistence of sunrises and sunsets
a mother waits engulfed in quicksand
Wandering since the departure
Rummaging for answers soothes
His hollow chair like black granite
His hollow bed smells of Axe
Fishing rod, Maxim, Guitar
A severe absence replete
with silence and prayers
that once were lullabies
Her grimace uncorks sleep
And those tightly closed hands
just wake up to squeeze wrinkles
On the wall shadows of bushes
On the radio Lennon Imagine
Tomorrow the letter will fall
as feather but still shaking
an endless abyss without awe
Womb will twist, teeth will grind
dripping, spattering, spitting rabies
Through her throat a lump will release
a creak, a crack, bitter yellowish-green
nausea and dread and wrath and grief
A swirl that will magnify to drown
portraits, high-school books,
stamps and hot-wheels
A deflating no
unstoppable being away far away
a casualty not complete
forsaken—without her cord
A roar to nowhere—suffering will have gone
I stare into the deepest heavens, and I loose my judgement in the color purple
Ligth clouds fly overheard, a few birds glide, o'gentle, peaceful is their ride
And then I found myself looking straight down at the ground, full of life, in every side
Will men not see what a beautiful place we have to care for? I pray for a miracle
The day grows gray, the sun weary of light hides in the horizon
A beautiful moon stands guard, securing passage to spirits unknown
Millions of stars peek into the world, to witness man and his mission
Must a soul hide a lifetime if love to it has not yet been seen as hard as stone
See not the frigid wind, for it breaks thy lips and oppresses thy breath
Icy invisible, yet so harmful, for death arises in all that is evil and not sane
Shivering, crawling teeth are the tunes that play as I feel the winds pain
A mad sky, it rains tears and hopes of dreams to come, none but death
Take a minute, look into a poets eyes, see his heart it prays
As his naked eye has witnessed much pain and lament
Take his heart, may thee bandage that broken piece for his love spills and sprays
His dreams have abandoned his shadow, his windows show much torment
He speaks of beauty and life all in rhyme
Awaiting his vision to fulfill he writes all the freely given time
He searches, yet not finds a heal to his strife
Follow his soul, for it is "walking on life"
Mt heart is like a turn table
it just keeps spinning and spinning
Like the stars in the sky
My love just keeps floating
Sometimes you wishing on a star
doesn't mean that's who you are
My emotions is like an elevator
they go up and down
The real me doesn't hide who he is
sometimes that comes back to bite me
There isn't no other side to me
They say that evil is in every good man
In me evil is rejected, it doesn't exsist
He or she who finds the real them
should live in the promised land forever
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