A Southern Gospel... (Part Two)
he lay still on the floor,
wrestling with the darkness.
his life flooded his senses,
and the lives of all others!
he stood again by his mother's
grave... felt again that emptiness.
and the first time he'd ever been in love,
the softness of her skin, the gentleness
in her eyes. the way her lips tasted
when they kissed, the way her body
felt beneath his... the eternal sadness
in her voice when she said goodbye!
the birth of his children, the house and
the home... the same 8 hour shift, year
after year...
the day they announced the layoffs, the plant
shutting down... the day the unemployment
ran out...
times of war, acts of courage, and murder that
bruised his conscience.
the taste of whiskey, corner tables in lonesome
bars... the homeless streets, the thugs, heroin stoops,
and jail cells....
if god wasnt dead, well... maybe he was!
maybe that was it, maybe he'd been dead for
a long time...
sometimes hunger was the only way he'd known
he was real...
that, and the smells, the tastes, the touching...
hell, if he had to do it again, he'd do it even harder!
he lay shaking on the floor, tears rolling down
his face, the taste of blood on his lips...
thinking... maybe this is god, the hurting,
the memories, dirty hands and tired feet...
and lapsed naked into salvation without a name!
the next morning, the custodian found a dead
body beneath the altar... he called 911...
and the preacher he'll preach next sunday on
heaven and hell... never knowing, never realizing,
they'd lain there at the foot of the altar!
the true religion, the life and death of a common man!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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Deviance
I embrace the darkness within
Forever serve beneath its hand
Horrid thoughts that surface to me
Ceremony bloods command
I will live through this forever
I have done the things you grieve
As you kneel before its evil
Death is here deep inside your
Skinned alive now naked
Terrorized no humanity
Seek salvation from an mia god
Empty vessels chanting for your death
Walk the streets beneath the shadows
Searching for a cryptic bride
Eat alive the conscience I hate
Without pain I watch you die
I will live through this forever
I have done the things you grieve
As you kneel before its evil
My face is the last you'll see
Soaked in blood the mask you wear
Haunting cries the dead scream for me
Staring eyes invoke no guilt
I can taste your mind your lifeless
Face the dead and dying
Feel your life drain
Through your soul
Seek salvation from an mia god
Empty vessels chanting for the dead
Death is yours
Your veins have dried
Staring eyes of glass now empty
Still you speak with lips so cold
In my head I hear you cry
God is dead can't save me
Taking lives with impunity
Resurrection of a deviant Christ
Feeding hate to capacity - deviance
song performed by by Slayer from God Hates Us All

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nothing Anymore
When I once looked into your eyes,
I saw honesty lying there.
When I once looked into your eyes,
I saw loyalty with love and care.
When I once looked into your eyes,
I saw life and love forever more.
When I now look into your eyes,
I see darkness, and nothing anymore.
When I once held onto your hand,
I felt compassion, kindness and love.
When I once held onto your hand,
I felt the warmth from GOD above.
When I once held onto your hand,
I felt a joy from the person I adored.
When I now hold onto your hand,
I feel coldness, and nothing anymore.
When I use to listen to your voice,
I once heard it with vigor and excitement.
When I use to listen to your voice,
I once heard it with warmth and fulfillment.
When I use to listened to your voice,
I once heard it with truth which I swore.
When I now listen to your voice.
I go dumb, as I hear nothing anymore.
When I once looked upon your face,
I would always look with pride and a smile.
When I once looked upon your face,
I would always thank GOD your with me now
When I once looked upon your face,
I would always be there to open your door.
When I now look upon your face,
I go blind, as I see nothing anymore.
When I once kissed your lips,
I tasted myself and also your flavor.
When I once kissed your lips,
I tasted life as you were my savior.
When I once kissed your lips,
I tasted excitement and your love in store.
When I now think of kissing your lips,
I now bite them shut, I taste nothing anymore.
poem by Randy McClave

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Razorblade Kiss
I taste death in every kiss we share
Every sundown seems to be the last we have
Your breath on my skin has the scent of our end
Im drunk on your tears, baby, cant you see its hurting
Mmhhh mmmhhhh
Every time we touch we get closer to heaven
And at every sunrise our sins are forgiven
Uh.uh
You on my skin this must be the end
The only way you can love me is to hurt me again
And again
And again
And again
Your love is a razorblade kiss
Sweetest is the taste from your lips
Your love is a razorblade kiss
Sweetest is the taste from your lips
Oh the taste from your lips, my darling
Taste from your lips, oh my love
Only inside Im free
Im tired of waiting
Youve got to let me dream
Inside you baby
Im not afraid to feel
I want you to love me
Cause you are the one
Cause you are the one
Cause you are the one
Your love is a razorblade kiss
Sweetest is the taste from your lips
Your love is a razorblade kiss
Sweetest is the taste from your lips
Your love is a razorblade kiss
Sweetest is the taste from your lips
Your love is a razorblade kiss
Sweetest is the taste from your lips
song performed by by H.i.m. (his Infernal Majesty)

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Razorblade Kiss
I taste death in every kiss we share
Every sundown seems to be the last we have
Your breath on my skin has the scent of our end
I'm drunk on your tears, baby, can't you see it's hurting
Mmhhh mmmhhhh
Every time we touch we get closer to heaven
And at every sunrise our sins are forgiven
Uh.uh
You on my skin this must be the end
The only way you can love me is to hurt me again
And again
And again
And again
Your love is a razorblade kiss
Sweetest is the taste from your lips
Your love is a razorblade kiss
Sweetest is the taste from your lips
Oh the taste from your lips, my darling
Taste from your lips, oh my love
Only inside i'm free
I'm tired of waiting
You've got to let me dream
Inside you baby
I'm not afraid to feel
I want you to love me
Cause you are the one
Cause you are the one
Cause you are the one
Your love is a razorblade kiss
Sweetest is the taste from your lips
Your love is a razorblade kiss
Sweetest is the taste from your lips
Your love is a razorblade kiss
Sweetest is the taste from your lips
Your love is a razorblade kiss
Sweetest is the taste from your lips
song performed by by H.I.M.

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gangland
(smith/burr)
Shadows may hide you but also may be your grave
Youre running today maybe tomorrow youll be saved
You pray for daylight to save you for a while
You wonder if your children will face the killers smile
Dead men -- tell no tales
In gangland -- murders up for sale
Dead men -- tell no tales
In gangland -- where jail birds die
Face at the window leers into your own
But its only your reflection still you tremble in your bones
How long can you hide? how long till they come?
A rat in a trap but youve got to survive
Once you were glad to be free for a while
The air tasted good and the world was your friend
Then came the day when the hard times began
Now your alone but alive for how long?
A knife at your throat another body on the pile
A contract to keep and its service with a smile
Murder for vengeance or murder for gain
Death on the streets or a blackened out jail
Dead men -- tell no tales
In gangland -- murders up for sale
Dead men -- tell no tales
In gangland -- where jail birds die
In gangland you tell no tales
song performed by by Iron Maiden

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hymn 88
Life the day of grace and hope.
Eccl. 9:4-6,10.
Life is the time to serve the Lord,
The time t' insure the great reward;
And while the lamp holds out to burn,
The vilest sinner may return.
[Life is the hour that God has giv'n
To 'scape from hell and fly to heav'n;
The day of grace, and mortals may
Secure the blessings of the day.]
The living know that they must die,
But all the dead forgotten lie;
Their mem'ry and their sense is gone,
Alike unknowing and unknown.
[Their hatred and their love is lost,
Their envy buried in the dust;
They have no share in all that's done
Beneath the circuit of the sun.]
Then what my thoughts design to do,
My hands, with all your might pursue;
Since no device nor work is found,
Nor faith, nor hope, beneath the ground.
There are no acts of pardon passed
In the cold grave, to which we haste;
But darkness, death, and long despair,
Reign in eternal silence there.
poem by Isaac Watts

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Death
He, born of my girlhood, is dead, while my life is yet young in my heart
Ere the breasts where his baby lips fed have forgotten their softness, we part.
We part. He was mine, he was here, though he travelled by land and by sea,
My son who could trample on fear, my babe who was moulded in me.
As I sat in the darkness, it seemed I could still feel his touch on my head;
He came in the night as I dreamed, and he knelt at the side of my bed;
He murmured the words I had taught when his lips were the lips of a child,
Ere the strength of his arm had been bought and the love that upheld him defiled;
Then my faltering spirit grew bold, and my heart had forgotten its drouth,
And I crooned little songs as of old, till I woke at his kiss on my mouth.
Now waking and sleeping are pain. Nevermore will he kiss, nevermore
Shall I hear his low whistle again at the gate, or his step on the floor,
For to-night he was here while I slept, and this is the end of it all.
Now that welter of darkness has swept us apart, can he come if I call?
Can he come, little chap with the eyes that brought light out of heaven to earth?
Can he come, though the soul of me cries for the joy that I bought by his birth?
I can see but the horror that bids the heart of the mother despair,
The vision that burns on my lids, the face that will always be there,
For he holds out his hands to me, red, and his eyes tell the truth as he stands.
He is dead. He is dead. He is dead. He is dead, with the blood on his hands.
poem by John Le Gay Brereton

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Fog
Groping.
It's day.
But it's night.
I'm on the floor.
My body aches.
Not really.
It's my heart that's broken.
And my mind that's split.
Why am I alone? .
Why am I here? .
It's brightly dark.
I feel it.
Can almost grasp it.
The darkness quietly growing inside of me.
The strange one on the corner frightens me.
But I like him.
'Do it', he says.
'Just do it'.
I drink from the floor.
I'm dead thirsty.
It's been a journey.
Where's everyone? .
Where did everyone go? .
Where are my friends? .
Where am I? .
Where is God? .
Hate broods.
Bitterness rages.
Hurt screeeeaaaams!
It hurts.
Everywhere hurts.
It's been a journey.
I remember vaguely.
Love was all I wanted.
And yeah, happiness.
How did I get here.
I feel wet.
Not from the water on the floor but from within.
I stand.
I look down.
My chest's open.
I'm bleeding.
My heart's not beating.
It's bleeding.
I scrrreeeeeeaaaaammm 'heaven save me! '.
I remember.
I've cried out like this before.
No answer.
Here i am, still.
I'm stuck.
The second hand won't move.
I'm breathing.
I'm dead.
My whole life flashes before me.
Oh, the mistakes i've made.
The things I've done.
The failure I've known.
Rain's falling.
A dropp hits me.
I taste it.
It's tears.
My tears.
I've cried a thousand times.
It pours.
I'm soaked.
But numb.
I feel nothing anymore.
I care about nothing.
Life's been unfair.
Life's unfair.
I look.
Can't see.
I hear: 'Do it'.
The strange one waits for me.
I see death.
Hands stretched out he says 'take my hands'.
I look up.
Nothing.
I look down.
Tears and filth.
I sit down.
I take a corner.
I wait.
What am I waiting for?
Why am I sitting?
I should move.
My feet's numb.
My body's like lead.
My arm's around my legs.
My cheek on my knee.
I refuse to do it.
I won't take his hands.
I wait silently.
Maybe one day, this day will pass.
One day just one day He'll remember me.
And that day I'll be saved.
If not?
Let fate be.
Que sera sera.
For what will be will be...
poem by Jenim Dibie

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Wind, Rain, And The Eyes!
i went from the shadow of Jesus,
to Tao's uncarved block,
flowing with the water
for over a decade....
to the feet of Buddha,
awareness and universal compassion...
respect for all that lives.
each of them now a part of me,
of who i am and will be.....
but when i thought each the end,
my destination....
came a voice... Go further!
i went from virtue to evil,
to night needs day,
just as day needs night....
and still i was not finished.
i went from addiction to jail,
from jail to books....
each leaving a scar,
each feeding the fire!
i went from love to loss,
from family to old age...
and still i felt the hunger!
and now i've returned
to my primitive spirit,
i hear voices in the wind,
i make love to the rain!
from time to time....
seeing glimpses of God,
in the hungry eyes of children,
in the eyes of the oppressed....
in the eyes of the homeless,
in the eyes of dead bodies,
without home, naked and honest...
in the eyes....
wind, rain, and the eyes!
go further!
poem by Eric Cockrell

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The Dead To The Living
Work while it is day: the night cometh, when no man can work.
IN the childhood of April, while purple woods
With the young year's blood in them smiled,
I passed through the lanes and the wakened fields,
And stood by the grave of the child.
And the pain awoke that is never dead
Though it sometimes sleeps, and again
It set its teeth in this heart of mine,
And fastened its claws in my brain:
For it seemed so hard that the little hands
And the little well-loved head
Should be out of reach of my living lips,
And be side by side with the dead--
Not side by side with us who had loved,
But with these who had never seen
The grace of the smile, the gold of the hair,
And the eyes of my baby-queen.
Yet with trees about where the brown birds build,
And with long green grass above,
She lies in the cold sweet breast of earth
Beyond the reach of our love;
Whatever befalls in the coarse loud world,
We know she will never wake.
When I thought of the sorrow she might have known,
I was almost glad for her sake. . . .
Tears might have tired those kiss-closed eyes,
Grief hardened the mouth I kissed;
I was almost glad that my dear was dead
Because of the pain she had missed.
Oh, if I could but have died a child
With a white child-soul like hers,
As pure as the wind-flowers down in the copse,
Where the soul of the spring's self stirs;
Or if I had only done with it all,
And might lie by her side unmoved!
I envied the very clods of earth
Their place near the child I loved!
And my soul rose up in revolt at life,
As I stood dry-eyed by her grave,
When sudden the grass of the churchyard sod
Rolled back like a green smooth wave;
The brown earth looked like the brown sea rocks,
The tombstones were white like spray,
And white like surf were the curling folds
Of the shrouds where the dead men lay;
For each in his place with his quiet face
I saw the dead lie low,
Who had worked and suffered and found life sad,
So many sad years ago.
Unchanged by time I saw them lie
As when first they were laid to rest,
The tired eyes closed, the sad lips still,
And the work-worn hands on the breast.
There were some who had found the green world so grey,
They had left it before their time,
And some were little ones like my dear,
And some had died in their prime;
And some were old, they had had their fill
Of bitter unfruitful hours,
And knew that none of them, none, had known
A flower of a hope like ours!
Through their shut eyelids the dead looked up,
And without a voice they said:
'We lived without hope, without hope we died,
And hopeless we lie here dead;
And death is better than life that draws
Pain in, as it draws in breath,
If life never dreams of a coming day
When life shall not envy death.
Through the dark of our hours and our times we lived,
Uncheered by a single ray
Of such hope as lightens the lives of you
Who are finding life hard to-day;
With our little lanterns of human love
We lighted our dark warm night--
But you in the chill of the dawn are set
With your face to the eastern light.
Freedom is waiting with hands held out
Till you tear the veil from her face--
And when once men have seen the light of her eyes,
And felt her divine embrace,
The light of the world will be risen indeed,
And will shine in the eyes of men,
And those who come after will find life fair,
And their lives worth living then!
Will you strive to the light in your loud rough world,
That these things may come to pass,
Or lie in the shadow beside the child,
And strive to the sun through the grass?'
'My world while I may,' I cried; 'but you
Whose lives were as dark as your grave?'
'We too are a part of the coming light,'
They called through the smooth green wave.
Their white shrouds gleamed as the flood of green
Rolled over and hid them from me--
Hid all but the little hands and the hair,
And the face that I always see.
poem by Edith Nesbit

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The Tryst
I raised the veil, I loosed the bands,
I took the dead thing from its place.
Like a warm stream in frozen lands
My lips went wandering on her face,
My hands burnt in her hands.
She could not stay me, being dead;
Her body here was mine to hold.
What if her lips had lost their red?
To me they always tasted cold
With the cold words she said.
Did my breath run along her hair,
And free the pulse, and fire the brain,
My wild blood wake her wild blood there?
Here eyelids lifted wide again
In a blue, sudden stare.
Beneath my fierce, profane caress
The whole white length of body moved;
The drowsy bosom seemed to press
As if against a breast beloved,
Then fail for weariness.
No, not that anguish! Christ forbid
That I should raise such dead! I rose,
Stifled the mouth with lilies, hid
Those eyes, And drew the long hair close,
And shut the coffin lid.
My cold brow on the cold wood laid,
Quiet and close to-night we lie.
No cruel words her lips have said.
I shall not take nor she deny.
The dead is with the dead.
poem by Muriel Stuart

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The Hopeless
a force fed lie, our dead dream, awake upon a staircase, start looking downward into hell where the last life screamed and we screeched "we're all ways, all ways a bloody mess a bloody mess" lieing hole, tired eyes, you're screeching, your scraping the bone with your life, into a dream, we will fade. hopeless, the hopeless, the hopeless, the hopeless, the hopeless, the hopeless, the hopeless, their calling of the dead, calling ov the dead. you liars, and your face, and your eyes separate the fear, the lies, the fate. set into eyes the calling of the dead, image in the light they calling you dead, they wont believe signs, they don't believe your cries, they all ways open eyes, and the light all over your head, your head. time distortion, crawling on to your knees, crawl onto the floor,get off your feet, a lie in the wake, spiraling down, glass feeling moments all over your arms, over your arms. condemned, force fed, force fed, your calling dead. feeling your flesh ripped apart with heaven and hell. the conflict of everything was sent from heaven and hell, the conflict of disease, the life long breeding season, for your lips you'll take away the life that was given so easily, now all becomes the entity of hate, shows you hate, shows you light shows you everything. everything. the fading light, a broken dream, you're everything. your everything. kneel to the floor get off your knees, raise up to the light, you wont feel a thing, inject the needle, inject the time, kill all the light with forces of the night. all ways a lost day, all ways a hopeless brain, all ways everything, all ways force fed. into your head, into head, into your life, where you dream, that's where you go,that's how it lives, that how you know pain, know choice, know life, no choice, no freedom just separation segregation, the annihilation, annihilation. annihilation, annihilation.
song performed by by Velvet Acid Christ

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Cheated Death.
Suddenly all went cold
And of my mother's hand I took hold
I held on like a drowning man would a lifeline
For I knew this might be the end of my timeline
And there in the corner he stood
Bright silvery robes, a golden cord around his waist, there he stood
Shoulder length hair as golden as the sun's rays
Eyes bluer than the Caspian, bronze skin that hath no flaws
His feet shod in sandals
His presence brightened the candles
I felt a hope build inside
A fire rekindled inside
But as quickly as it came
The hope left and with it the fear came
As I looked in horror to the other corner
There she stood, crowned by darkness in the left corner
Her eyes the colour of blood
In a black robe of death she was clad
As I focused on her, I felt the life leave me
Just as the anaconda squeezes the life out of its prey, the life left me
The odour of burning Sulphur filled the room
And with it an impeding gloom
I squeezed my mother's hand ‘til it hurt
Every breath I took hurt
I tried to tell my mother I loved her
But all that came out was a croak
Slowly the woman in the left corner removed her cloak
Revealing a crown of long fiery hair
Her eyes fixed on me in an evil stare
Her blood red lips parted in a smile
A smile so evil it shouldn't be called a smile
I turned to the other corner seeking comfort from my angel and this evil evade
But woe unto me he had slowly began to fade
And with him, the light
Impeding my sight
I felt my body consumed by a cloud of darkness
And at that moment, I felt the presence of death in the darkness
Funny how in the movies they tell you to stay away from the light
How I longed to see a light
For I knew the darkness would only lead to more pain
I shut my eyes hoping that when I opened them again
My angel would be there telling me it's alright
Bringing back hope and light
But lo and behold as I re-opened mine eyes
There I lay, in my hospital bed my mother looking on with wet eyes
She told of how I almost died
Of how my breathing stopped but her hope never died
I sat up in wonder looked to the right and there my angel stood
In fear, I turned to the left, and she too in her shroud of evil, stood
Her eyes blazing with anger
For death had been cheated and left with a deep hunger
And I knew, she would be back
And then it struck me,
Death never leaves empty handed
That's when I saw the nurses covering the old woman's body across
With a white sheet and a priest making the sign of a cross
Once again, death did reap
And it is inevitable that she will return to reap
Her taste of fruit, the unripe fruit...
poem by Esperanza Chilupula

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The Pearls of Verna Boone
I'd been alone for a year or so
Since Norma Jean had died,
I stayed in the house I'd bought for her
At the end of River Drive,
I'd felt her death as a fatal blow,
A crippling twist of fate,
For Norma Jean was my one true love,
Though I'd met her a little late!
I was past my prime when our eyes had met,
And she'd looked so young to me,
Her eyes had sparkled like diamonds set
As scarabs in sand and sea,
She saw the desert behind my eyes,
The emptiness in my life,
I stumbled over the words, but she
Said 'Yes! ' - She would be my wife!
I didn't know that she carried then
The seeds of a painful death,
Her face was flushed at the altar stone
And she seemed so short of breath,
I thought it merely a passing faint
That excitement had brought on,
As we stood in front of the Minister,
And joined our lives as one.
But then at home, she fell apart,
Collapsed on the kitchen floor,
I saw her lying, and coughing blood
Like I'd never seen before,
The doctor called, and he shook his head
As he left her there in the bed,
'I'm very sorry, ' the doctor sighed,
'But your lovely wife is dead! '
I cried and raged, and swore at fate
I smashed each wedding gift,
I wouldn't go to the funeral
But stayed at home and wept.
I cursed the heavens and thought that hell
Could never have been as bad
As a love that I'd waited a lifetime for,
A love that I'd never had!
The house next door was a rental place,
Stood empty for months that year,
But then a couple had moved on in,
I didn't see him, just her.
I thought that he was a traveller,
Was constantly on the road,
He came at night, and he left at dawn
In a battered and ancient Ford.
I had no reason to talk to them,
I sat at home with my grief,
I wandered out in the garden then
At one with each falling leaf,
But then one day, I heard her there
The other side of the fence,
Breaking her heart, as crying there
She sobbed with vehemence.
After a week of this, I climbed
The fence, and spoke to her,
'Why do you sigh, why do you cry? '
But she cried then all the more.
I walked around and sat with her
Quite late in the afternoon,
She smiled, and dried her eyes, and said,
'My name is Verna Boone! '
She said she'd only been married
Just a year this coming Spring,
But now that she knew the man he was,
Regretted everything,
He'd lost her money, just gambled it,
Had spent it on other girls,
And now they were left with nothing, he
Just wanted her mother's pearls!
'They're all I have to remember her, '
She sobbed, like a frightened child,
'They're worth a lot, but they're more to me, '
She looked at me, and smiled.
She took me inside and pulled them out
Three strings, they were very fine,
'He said that he's going to pawn them! '
Then she put her small hand in mine.
I was sad, alone and vulnerable,
I looked at her lovely curls,
She smiled at me, and she asked me then
If I'd care for her mother's pearls?
'I'll say they're lost, misplaced, I'll say,
He'll rant and rage, and more,
But he won't be able to pawn them now...'
Then she walked me to the door.
I took her home, and I placed the pearls
With the gems my wife had once:
'They'll be all right in the downstairs safe.'
It was then that she saw the gun.
She looked afraid, but she picked it up
And weighed it there in her hand,
I took it gently and locked it up
With the rest of my contraband.
'She must have watched as I spun the dial,
I know - I was such a fool! '
The sergeant sat and he stared at me,
And his stare was distant, cool.
He didn't believe a word I said
I could see that now, I'm done!
They put me back in a cell to wait
To be charged with Murder One!
She told them I had come over when
Her husband came home one night,
Waving a gun and ranting, then
Her husband put up a fight!
I'd shot him once through the head, she said,
Then taken her on the bed,
Stolen a fine pearl necklace,
Then beaten and left her for dead!
They found the gun on the floor, they said,
I knew that the gun was mine,
They found the pearls in my safe, they said,
It was only a question of time.
She sat at the back of the court while I
Was stood in the prisoner's dock,
And I noticed she wore her mother's pearls
With a nice new evening frock.
10 August 2009
poem by David Lewis Paget

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Kisses
You've kissed a hundred girls by now
and never found the one
whose kisses taste like cherry wine
and warm you like the sun.
But when it is you touch my lips
and brush them soft and sweet,
You'll lay your life before me
and feel like you're complete.
For I, my love have saved my lips,
saved them just for you.
And now that you have felt them
there's nothing you can do.
You can't go back to other's lips.
They would not feel the same.
The bitter taste they'd leave you with
would have you then exclaim.
'I need your lips. I long for them
and how they make me feel.'
So when you place your lips on mine
you'll know our love is real.
poem by Edwina Reizer

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Murder In Her Eyes
Some say she's bitter,
some say she's sweet.
They know her by her shimmer,
Oh how sometimes her crime can be so neat.
She makes her enemies real slick,
she makes her friends so easily.
Although her enemies slaughter is real quick,
but she's a generous person, really.
The murder in her eyes
reveals her disguise,
The taste of her enemies blood,
she cannot recognize.
She seeks for revenge
For only those who caused her agony and avenge.
The murder shows who she truly is.
The sweet girl with a bloody blade in her hand.
Her enemies dead body laying on the floor
as she laughs and hounds as her enemies body rots to the core.
The murder in her eyes is severe...
Something that nobody dares to conquer
They laughed at her in the past,
She knew their life's wouldn't last.
The murder in her eyes hides the tides of her personality
for her enemy's, she loves to rec their reality.
No one ever thought she could do that.
Until they saw her true disguise which showed the murder...
Murder in her eyes.
poem by Katellyne Baker

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Morning After
Awakened by the sun light
Victimized by last night
Memories flashin through my head
Was I just born or am I dead?
Yesterdays forgotten, the morning after
I can taste you, I can hear your laughter
Fading in the distance
Recollections drifting
Bloodstains on my tattered clothes
Each minute the fear grows
If I could just lay down to rest
Im tired of searching for myself
If I am dead, how can I feel such love?
If I am dead, why am I dreaming?
If I am dead, where do I go from here?
If I am dead, why does this pain feel so good?
Is this my blood dried upon my face?
Or is it the love of someone else?
It tastes so sweet, just like you used to
So rescue me my love, splice us together
I remember loving you so much
But where are you and wheres your fatal touch?
When I closed my eyes, was it my siesta?
Did I encounter a darkness stronger than sleep?
I am thirsty for my sleep
There are no answers anyway...
song performed by by Faith No More

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Couage
its right around the corner
from al the first
and last times
the bad memories
as unforgetable
as a tornado
they'll shock u
and suprise u
and to all the wonderful moments
the first time u talked to me
was like the first light
like cupid had stuck me
with an arrow
and the first time u kissed me
when ur lips met mine
no more thinking
i had no more worries
and later
when everyone told you lies
trying to break us apart
still u stood
right by my side
they called u names
for being with me
but u never backed down
you never gave into them
and u always kept
loving me with no problem
later,
they faced u with
threats and death
but u had me
and i had u
when the silence came
and the sky above thundered
they were coming for you
but u faced them head on
with all your heart and soul
not a single tear
nor any rage
but all the courage in the world
you held every lil bit
and to me, it was outstanding
i couldnt help but smile
and hold your hand
you were so very perfect
in my eyes....
and as we stood there
awaiting death
i realized u saying me
wasnt courage at all
it was simply love
poem by Kendyll Brown

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The Fog (Story)
The fog moved slowly across the ground
Like a cat on the prowl.
Everything was as quiet as can be
Not even a rustle in the trees.
Out of the mist she walked slowly towards me
Her eyes was the only thing that I could see.
They glowed like lanterns in the night
My heart jumped - my mind took flight.
So many thoughts going thru my head
Am I alive or am I dead?
What is this that I am seeing
Or is my mind playing tricks
And having me believe it.
As she came closer she started to take
An hour glass shape, and all dressed
Up in black pants, blouse, boots
And black cape.
Was I to die? Was this my fate?
Her eyes black as her outfit and hypnotic
As can be, and the softness of her voice
Capturing me.
'You look like you've seen a ghost' she said
I looked at her eyes then bowed my head.
She was the most beautiful woman that
I had ever seen or ever met
But something about her that I couldn't
Figure out yet.
Then the thought came to me ' vampire diary'.
I knew that this was only a movie, and no such
Thing exists. 'but' - what if?
I did not hear her heels as she walked up to me
And her eyes as big as can be, taking full control of me.
I felt my body go limp as I lost my self in her eyes
Then she licked her lips, and I felt I was paralyzed.
She took my face in her hands and kissed me OH SO TENDERLY
And in her arms was where I wanted to be.
Her lips like the taste of wine warming my every being
This was all that I was seeing.
She unbuttoned my shirt and started kissing my chest
Then I felt her climb up to my neck.
Her breath so hot that it sent chills down my spine
To last me till the ends of time.
She kissed me again and her tongue went deep inside
To a point that I wanted to cry,
She pulled away then looked at me
And opened her mouth very wide
AND THEN IT HAPPENED! I woke up!
Ha Ha hope you liked the ending.
poem by Louis Rams

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Mater Dolorosa
Who is this that sits by the way, by the wild wayside,
In a rent stained raiment, the robe of a cast-off bride,
In the dust, in the rainfall sitting, with soiled feet bare,
With the night for a garment upon her, with torn wet hair?
She is fairer of face than the daughters of men, and her eyes,
Worn through with her tears, are deep as the depth of skies.
This is she for whose sake being fallen, for whose abject sake,
Earth groans in the blackness of darkness, and men's hearts break.
This is she for whose love, having seen her, the men that were
Poured life out as water, and shed their souls upon air.
This is she for whose glory their years were counted as foam;
Whose face was a light upon Greece, was a fire upon Rome.
Is it now not surely a vain thing, a foolish and vain,
To sit down by her, mourn to her, serve her, partake in the pain?
She is grey with the dust of time on his manifold ways,
Where her faint feet stumble and falter through year-long days.
Shall she help us at all, O fools, give fruit or give fame,
Who herself is a name despised, a rejected name?
We have not served her for guerdon. If any do so,
That his mouth may be sweet with such honey, we care not to know.
We have drunk from a wine-unsweetened, a perilous cup,
A draught very bitter. The kings of the earth stood up,
And the rulers took counsel together, to smite her and slay;
And the blood of her wounds is given us to drink today.
Can these bones live? or the leaves that are dead leaves bud?
Or the dead blood drawn from her veins be in your veins blood?
Will ye gather up water again that was drawn and shed?
In the blood is the life of the veins, and her veins are dead.
For the lives that are over are over, and past things past;
She had her day, and it is not; was first, and is last.
Is it nothing unto you then, all ye that pass by,
If her breath be left in her lips, if she live now or die?
Behold now, O people, and say if she be not fair,
Whom your fathers followed to find her, with praise and prayer,
And rejoiced, having found her, though roof they had none nor bread;
But ye care not; what is it to you if her day be dead?
It was well with our fathers; their sound was in all men's lands;
There was fire in their hearts, and the hunger of fight in their
hands.
Naked and strong they went forth in her strength like flame,
For her love's and her name's sake of old, her republican name.
But their children, by kings made quiet, by priests made wise,
Love better the heat of their hearths than the light of her eyes.
Are they children of these thy children indeed, who have sold,
O golden goddess, the light of thy face for gold?
Are they sons indeed of the sons of thy dayspring of hope,
Whose lives are in fief of an emperor, whose souls of a Pope?
Hide then thine head, O beloved; thy time is done;
Thy kingdom is broken in heaven, and blind thy sun.
What sleep is upon you, to dream she indeed shall rise,
When the hopes are dead in her heart as the tears in her eyes?
If ye sing of her dead, will she stir? if ye weep for her, weep?
Come away now, leave her; what hath she to do but sleep?
But ye that mourn are alive, and have years to be;
And life is good, and the world is wiser than we.
Yea, wise is the world and mighty, with years to give,
And years to promise; but how long now shall it live?
And foolish and poor is faith, and her ways are bare,
Till she find the way of the sun, and the morning air.
In that hour shall this dead face shine as the face of the sun,
And the soul of man and her soul and the world's be one.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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