What Lingers Inside
From the treasures of youth that brightens
one's soul, where happiness flourishes due
to much forgotten worries and much received
love. This is what lingers inside.
And like the sun setting on hazy skies, time starts
to cast it's shadows on the faces of the youthful. Earning
respect takes over one's heart, dimming the joys of delightful
spontaneity. This is what lingers inside.
Respect from your upbringing, which one
believes is true and right, will only endlessly
bring pressure. A pressure so strong that
it can make a man weep. Yet a pressure that must be weak,
for the same man can hide it. A soul filled with love without
the self-confidence to define it, this is the breeze of sorrow
that brings one to their knees, a breeze not strong enough to
knock down the wall that is hiding them, but
strong enough to paralyze the goal to self-love, like a struggling
nightmare that holds on to your frightened body, never letting
you wake. This is what lingers inside.
An eye for an eye
An ear for an ear
We can't see
We can't hear
An action of fear
The chain has an end
That end is near
Burn all your bridges
Close all your doors
Make everything yours
See where that gets us
Just see how far
It's us that hurts us
It's just who we are
Ut Vidi Vici
Golden ages crashing through space,
past turning dials and death's feminine wiles,
throwing off dust and a fascinating taste,
from my mind's inner sanctum stares a timeless face;
lake of fire fill my tomb,
away to hades in fragrant gloom,
forever steals time from the reaper's grip,
away, away, the serpents slip;
under all the matrix glistens,
toward perfection matter travels,
without the One it all unravels;
infinity ever drawing so near,
day loves the blazing orb that speaks,
into his rays Horus whispers,
victorious scribe of the solar tribe,
is all mapped out and set in stone?
Christos calls in many guises,
infamous herb dancing in the wind,
all but the initiate say we sinned,
mind only opens to unknown light,
the muses winked and mischievously grinned;
string of gems in praise to It,
truth encased by Thoth thrice great,
I see the point of perfection which lies in wait.
Lines of black and white
Running through the void of the mind
Such a deep expedition
Yet no one has ever accomplished
The lies and hatred find another route
They always find a way to the heart
Follow the trail with the broken pieces
With A red tint you will find your way
The sun sets fast but that’s ok, you got a flashlight
The red of the trail glows upon your face
I don’t think there is anything more beautiful.
At the end the night sky filled with stars becomes visible
The waving in the night sky
With the full moon and the clouds on vacation
Lie down, watch the animals go by
The wave you sit and watch
Your eyes piercing even the thickest armor
Here is where it lays
In the thick of the fog comes the trail from a broken heart
Pick them up and watch them find the way to their owner
Trees glow green and soak in the sunlight
In the forest of dreams
If I don’t know, I don’t know
Surgical investigation and treatment are urgently required
He falls asleep and can be aroused only by a constant supply of
But let us return to whence we started
Done by either grouping the related god figures together
A profoundly painful dejection, cessation of interest in the outside
No, there shall be no escape from
Idols of the marketplace
Delight in them is an inhuman pleasure
In these circumstances he did what most of us do
Accept modestly; surrender gracefully
Adultery still holds too much water
Never the less it had many faults and was usually the most fruitful
source of trouble
Quietness and cat-like concentration on the job in hand also intrigued
If I could hear the thoughts of flowers,
Listening from sylvan towers,
Might I understand more clearly
Why they love the wood so dearly?
What makes the rainfall so poetic
To nodding children sympathetic
Lulling them to sleep at night
Until the dawn’s first glow of light?
How do the birds, as fledglings shy
Know when they’re ready to take to the sky?
I believe if we listen, with all our worth,
We may hear the secrets of the living earth.
Take me away from the wind and the cold
Into the island of your soul
On rafts of peppermint and meringue.
We will feast on the fruits of your beauty,
And I will give you the hidden treasures my talents behold.
Together we can make a symphony.
Apart we are shooting stars,
Burning brightly and falling to earth
Before our time.
"Sylvia to Ted"
by Beth Linda Block
You, who eagerly fragmented our vows.
You, who routinely savaged your promises.
You, who shackled me to your love, then fled.
You, who slammed a sledge hammer through my wounded soul.
Yet you insisted on returning to me for my wifely forgiveness.
You played on my bond and my weaknesses.
And when I saw your face,
no hint of remorse,
no shadow of suffering,
I wanted to brand myself with a glowing iron.
A CHILD IN ME
Jane E. Cheneth
In my everyday life
Not one day I have a peace inside
Having so much difficulty in choosing my own path
I still ask mom of what she want
Almost all my life I've been so dependent
Waiting for others help in every incident
I never learn to stand on my own
Now I'm afraid to live all alone
For that I still think like a child
Waiting for someone to be my guide
Hoping someday I'll learn to stand
And be everybodys' man
A child in me still lies
Wishing one day I'll be able to rise
Grow up and be mature enough
For life in this world is so tough
AN UNSKILLED WRITER
An avid writer I am not
grammar, rhythm, spelling hah!
one can't be taught to write in rhyme
it's a skill developed over time
yet the educated people don't think that's so
for when i tell them this
they point me home
an unskilled writer they title me
because my scheme is in AB
and the words I use ain't long and strange
and my writing only means one thing
say what they will
I'll keep on writing
cause my fingers can't stop typing
I'll write about a situation
throw out the things like punctuation
how, you ask? how can this be?
because the title they gave me.
As far back as I can remember, I always wondered what was inside the
box. Its was always a big mystery for me. I really don't know why. There
was nothing fancy about it. Just an ordinary box like most others that
you see. Square in shape, and colored light brown. With God knows
what stored inside. The thin flaps that protected its contents were
taped securely. After all, peeking was not to be allowed. Or
so I thought. Over time the box changed gradually. But not much. It was
still the same box. Square in shape, and colored brown. This is when my curiosity
started to turn to fear? Was there magic inside the box? Or something of
value, like a treasure? Often I convinced myself that nothing at all was
inside the box. Sometimes a bit too often. I think there's a word that
would better decribe that, but I can't think of what it is. Maybe
I'll look it up one day. But not now. Soon I grew older. But nothing
changed. I must admit I was still a tad bit curious as to what was in
the box. Someone once tried to convince me to open the box. But still I
was afraid. I could never figure out why. At least that's what I wanted
to believe. After many years of contamplation, I decided that I
would finally open the box. Quietly I tiptoed across the floor.
Seconds later, I found myself staring down at the box. I began to
peel back the tape that held the box together for so many years. The
flaps were then opened. Soon it was done. The box was open. I can still
remember the feeling I had as I placed the final seal back upon the box
that night. Things like that, one can never forget. I then placed
the box in the garbage and never saw it again.
Brian A Massey
Five days a week
Five long days a week
Five days of hearing you speak
Five days of living this self destructing lie
Five hundred tears that you make me cry
Five days of being in mental solitude
Five days of feeling unimportant and shrewd
Five days of being in your formal hell
Five days to go through before the final bell
tonight the horns are blowing, as the champagne keeps on flowing
as we welcome in another New Years Eve,
tonight the old year we'll be leaving, as the new one comes a cleaving
with a brand new tapestry that it will soon achieve,
so out with the old there's new wonders to behold
in this another brand new coming year,
let's build a brand new life freed from the same old strife
as we banish every worry dread and fear
so as father time parts, he leaves in fits and starts
to usher in a baby fresh and new
let no new troubles now befall us as we join in the chorus
and may a Happy new year be in store for all of you
OPEN MIC ENCORE I