(5/13/2013 12:13:00 AM)
The Black Stallion
By Sophia Engel
Aloft the wind
I ride the night sky
I see the world through a much different eye
Rural, black and Deadly I am
Strength and grace
I feel the spirits of ancestral space
I speak the unspoken word
of mother natures brutal world
And tearing storms
Threatening yet not achieving
To bring me down
Pride of herd
Sisters and brothers
I live ever-watchful standing by others
For threat and danger
We run and gallop
Through wind and rain
A kaleidoscope of colors
Flying through the forest pride
Through nettles, thorn and deadly tide
The short, the tall, the long of mane
No two ever the same
I know the chance
I know the fear
I know the forest ways
I live on the edge
For death crouches near
I feel its breath on my neck
On my back I carry a load
Through storm and calm
Ever vigilant and bold
Strength and bravery rage inside me
Natures will always guide me
Through wind and rain
To high and low
Over cliffs and Mountain tops
I have died in battle twice already
Killed by man
Hunted by predator as I roamed the land
Yet I survive
I take each step with pride
I am ever loyal to those who seek
The free life, the wild life
For I am feral and wild
For I am the Black stallion
The King of the wild
(5/12/2013 3:13:00 PM)
I took it all to heart,
each hasty smile and modest gesture,
each syllable of dispassionate word,
to a stage where even I was persuaded,
the rays veiling your face
in perfect symmetry,
were by your own hand.
I coveted you so,
for what were you incapable?
See, you were the rays,
as you were the smile, the gesture,
and the word.
Everything created, then destroyed
by unadulterated hand,
but all only in my sight.
Now I mistrust.
There are words I thought were spoken
and actions I thought displayed—
In fact, illusions and trickery.
But now I see,
how you were a dream,
borne of a skeptic in dangerous reverie.
This guise I had burdened on you,
I all the time unawares,
For it had seemed,
that when I said move
And when I said speak
How does something appearing
so concrete, so essential
be confused with truth?
—to savor another's words
and have them be your own—
Eyes blind and still
having dreams of distant realms—
but forget it.
Happiness has gained on me,
now knowing the best of truth.
Now there is only whisperings
of lost voices.
No more apparitions of smiles,
gestures, or words—
such trivial necessities,
conceived by a fool
in want of an actor.
(5/12/2013 3:12:00 PM)
If I Had Ten More Minutes
If I had ten more minutes
and my voice was not faint
nor my face so devoid
or my mind so blank,
I would profess—
But I'm afraid of words
which might betray lips,
For what is kept
is of my eyes—
that impulsive organ
I've attempted to stray;
Construing a montage
fears, and doubts,
Come to life
in bursting light
whilst straining in the dark.
And if such creations
could be heard—
through the mist of passion
And masks of pride,
I would profess
All in my heart;
Every quaint murmur
Forsaken night and night.
Cherryl Ann Ilustre
(5/12/2013 11:52:00 AM)
In a solitude standing beside the window,
The memory of childhood in my mind pass through,
As I close my eyes and let the past flow,
Half of a sweet smile in my face and pinch of pain draw.
I used to have my own kingdom and sanctuary,
Where my bare feet stepping the carpet of a green grass,
The touch of the cloud curtain dazzling calmly,
And the ceiling of a blue sky keeps the scenery perfectly.
There, I have a special bench made by branch of a tree,
And a wall of a huge and tall plants protecting me,
The breeze of my friend wind always kissing me,
While I'm overlooking the real nature of beauty.
I treasured that kingdom where I am the princess,
When I'm coming I heard the clapping of the leaves,
And the trumpet began humming by crackling of branches,
All vowed and dance saying " Welcome Your Highness" .
Lying In that soft bed of dry leaves is my favorite,
With a pillows of hard and rough roots of the trees,
A comfortable blanket that invisibly made,
Give me a warm feeling to have a deep sleep.
But there's one thing I really adore in that place,
If I sang a song i heard the second voice of the birds,
I can hum, shout and follow the beat of music,
And nobody will say.. " Go away and stop it."
Now...how i missed that little forest.
(5/11/2013 6:18:00 AM)
| Read 1 reply
?? ????? / Oh Syria!
Reality is lost and I fear…
That someday.. somewhere so near…
I will fall amongst the people so dear…
I fear…that I’ll just be another one
Another one lost…
I wonder what the cost of my life is
Not to get too political…
But i want to know what the cost of my life is
Is it money…is it land
I do not own any of them…I’m just a simple man
I remember..when I ran across your land…
I remember when I kissed my grandmother’s hands..
But you ripped my away from her..from my home
You ripped my away from my heart…you ripped me away from my soul
I feel helpless..I feel low…
It’s hard to play along when I know…I have no role
I have become a slave.
After all the love i gave.
When I look at my country…people I want to save
When I look around me…people I need to change
It seems like a hard thing to do…
when the range of people is way bigger than you
Freedom…oh how much I've heard that word
Freedom…oh how this idea has become absurd
When God gave us life…
He warned us only he can take our lives…
Oh Syria…my home
Oh Syria…my all
Oh Syria…what did they hurt you for?
Oh Syria…I’m here…I won’t let them hurt you anymore…
I am Proud to be your son…
(5/10/2013 10:42:00 PM)
Who am I?What can I say?The sting of thorns dripping with poison brands my heart as life slips from those eyes that I thought I knew so well. In my state, I have become the doll that mourns in silence. The strings cut that gave me life and allowed me to bring that smile to your face. Who has lost the most?You have passed, the world of life has gone, and now you enter that land of mists.
I, however, have lost you. The one who took a fragile beating heart and patched the holes that were growing greater by the moment.
In the end I, the doll frozen in time, beg for the clock to stop, for it to settle. But it does not. In this final hour, I hold you dearest to me against all words, and meanings this last breath you give takes away the light I had.
As the warmth you had dissipates, I refuse to close my eyes as you have. I desire one last look at your comforting smile. My angel, my rose I wish for you to pass without pain and tears. Do not cry, as I will. I am silent and stilled. Your heart stops, and the world we had crumbles.
This is the final separation.
Rachael Aislynn Musgrove
(5/10/2013 10:26:00 AM)
MAYBE I'M WRONG
I thought I could find a different line of work.
Thought insanity was something I could quit.
With Cryptic little riddles,
You play your little fiddles.
But I'll be content with this.
Maybe I'm wrong.
I tried to straighten up.
Couldn't fill my tip cup.
Couldn't make a living with my beaten old guitar.
Shouldn't have listened to my mother, when she said " You're gonna go far."
But Maybe i'm still wrong.
Allian Bern Fuentes
(5/9/2013 1:26:00 AM)
| Read 2 replies
WHAT I HAVE BECOME
Questions are running in my mind
Should I look behind
Sinking slowly from my tears
Facing alone my fear
It's too late to turn back now
It's so hard to let go somehow
It's too late to wash what you've done
You don't even know what I've become
You promise me a thousand lies
That you'll never say goodbye
But you left me without much reason
So in this empty room I'm alone
Tell me what's left when the edge reaches the end
I'm feeling like dead but in front I pretend
I have a few bullets left for a second to breath
Should I aim this to you or pass this to my head
Cause your name is poisoning the thoughts of my brain
All I hope right now is to forget everything
I won't take any step to erase your mistakes
I hate you more than me and I got nothing left to sayReplies for this message:
(5/11/2013 4:25:00 PM)
some how some where you will find yourself ask for a wish from your deep heart in your pray to get out of darkness but to turn to white heart is your own question... revenge is the weakest part inside ... more
John Paul Cosato
(5/9/2013 2:24:00 PM)
Allian - I really like your DARK poem. I either like poems that are really dark or uplifting. I do not care to much for anything in between. Keep up the good work. If you want to read a dark poem of m ... more
- Gogo Amin (5/11/2013 4:25:00 PM) Post reply
(5/8/2013 3:50:00 PM)
I Don’t Know Jack
You think I’m a waist of space,
Attention seeker and disgusting.
However, did you ever think I just could afford my place?
I didn’t choose this life.
I would prefer a bed other than the streets,
My bones ache from the solid concrete.
I wake up with hate and lingering questions,
How am I going to eat?
Bet you didn’t know I had another mouth to feed.
My daughter, just a little toddler
Growing little beauty that doesn’t deserve this horror.
You think this life is fake; but trust me it isn’t,
Two people can’t make a living by eating the scrapes off of dirty dishes.
But it is ok, you helped me,
Just by tossing those coins at me.
My daughter got a sandwich and I just couldn’t manage watching her savoring each piece to make it everlasting.
It is dawn,
Time to rock her asleep and her fall into her dreams deep.
It breaks my heart to realize I’m a failure as a father.
The moist tears roll from my eyes,
But tomorrow is a new day,
Do something productive.
Maybe they will finally hire me into a job and stop giving me a ruckus.
The breeze is getting hard,
Your body got a chill,
As you quarreled into my arms I rocked you until you become still.
Here is my jacket; I’ll wrap you up tight,
Hopefully it will be warmer by daylight.
Guessing I should sleep too.
Maybe we will wake up and have a stable life like we dream too.
Just before I go everyone put yourself in my shoes;
You know how your day is going to be from front to back,
But me; I don’t know jack.
(5/8/2013 11:28:00 AM)
I found a dusty box today
Feelings stirred that were hidden away
Down behind some unread book
I picked it up, my fingers shook
Dread hid in the crevice of my mind
Not knowing what, inside, I'd find
Inside this tiny, unknown crate
That I had suddenly learned to hate
Perhaps a smile would cross my lips
As I held her scarf 'tween my fingertips
Perhaps a note signed I love you
And I'd say honey, I love you, too
But more likely, as is oft the case
Trinkets will greet my visual embrace
And the response will likely be forlorn
A tearing of my heart, in a small place not yet torn
I release the lid and move away
Perhaps tomorrow'd be a better day
I wipe my eyes as I depart
I need more time to heal this wounded heart