He kept them up under the bed.
Bring them out and beat on them.
There was nothin I could do.
Else He beat on me
or worse.... the kid.
"he beat your child too?"
only once...
after that I did what He said.
He didn't have to.
Sometimes it was women
but mostly men,
brought them home
already hurtin.
We could hear them breathe funny
sometimes cry
moan
pray.
That's when He would drag them out
and beat on them some more.
Put them back up under there.
Sometimes the blood ran out
from under the bed.
He told me to clean it up.
I did.
There was nothin I could do.
So much rage and hate
someone must have done Him very wrong.
At first the kid didn't know
he only saw
but didn't know.
I never wanted him to know
but he saw it all.
In between, after...
He would be so nice
mostly to the kid.
I saw my kid love this monster,
wait for the times He was nice,
saw him need those times.
Then He would bring home another one,
already hurtin.
Beat on them and stuff them
up under the bed.
The kid knew it was the only way He was nice.
The power He had on him
you couldn't see
only feel.
The kid understood the power.
Then He brought home a boy
couldn't have been 16
already hurtin.
Put him up under the bed.
I had to do something
so I let him go....
helped him go.
He beat on me and put me
up under the bed.
I knew my kid was waiting.
Waiting for it to be over.
Waiting for Him to be nice.
So much rage and hate
someone must have done him very wrong.
That someone was me.
this is so well written it makes me very angry....
I would take great pleasure in beating a man like this
till he cried like a little girl then do it again..and again. :x
I knew you when you were small
Just barley up to my knee
Now you've grown so tall
Standing at 6 foot 3
Can you still see me?
I knew you when you didn't know shit
Then for years you were just full of it
I knew someday you'd get your shit together
Now that you've started,the only weather.... is rain
Rain
Rain
Rain
You were never a little boy
Just always a little man
My ideas for your
Were never part of your plan
I remember the day I had to let it all go
How far you had come
Yet so far left to go
I taught you all I knew
Shared with you the good and bad
You started making a life for you
Before any others even had a plan
Now I'm walkin' in the rain
Rain
Rain
Rain
I am so proud of you
The young man you are trying to be
But in the rest of my life
There will never be warmer son for me
Shinning bright
Pushing back the rain
Rain
Pain
Rain
:wave: Jason,
this is great...great feeling and insight into parenting.
Love the universe, son/ sun/ rain/pain analogies, lovely, clever and meaningful.
I can relate to the bittersweetness, it is my life too.
Thank you for sharing, I'm glad you are here
He kept them up under the bed.
Bring them out and beat on them.
There was nothin I could do.
Else He beat on me
or worse.... the kid.
"he beat your child too?"
only once...
after that I did what He said.
He didn't have to.
Sometimes it was women
but mostly men,
brought them home
already hurtin.
We could hear them breathe funny
sometimes cry
moan
pray.
That's when He would drag them out
and beat on them some more.
Put them back up under there.
Sometimes the blood ran out
from under the bed.
He told me to clean it up.
I did.
There was nothin I could do.
So much rage and hate
someone must have done Him very wrong.
At first the kid didn't know
he only saw
but didn't know.
I never wanted him to know
but he saw it all.
In between, after...
He would be so nice
mostly to the kid.
I saw my kid love this monster,
wait for the times He was nice,
saw him need those times.
Then He would bring home another one,
already hurtin.
Beat on them and stuff them
up under the bed.
The kid knew it was the only way He was nice.
The power He had on him
you couldn't see
only feel.
The kid understood the power.
Then He brought home a boy
couldn't have been 16
already hurtin.
Put him up under the bed.
I had to do something
so I let him go....
helped him go.
He beat on me and put me
up under the bed.
I knew my kid was waiting.
Waiting for it to be over.
Waiting for Him to be nice.
So much rage and hate
someone must have done him very wrong.
That someone was me.
This is heavy. Hard to make it to the end, but I did. Brilliant writing
Cancel my subscription to the Ressurection
Send my credentials to the house of detention
I knew you when you were small
Just barley up to my knee
Now you've grown so tall
Standing at 6 foot 3
Can you still see me?
I knew you when you didn't know shit
Then for years you were just full of it
I knew someday you'd get your world together
Now that you've started,the only weather.... is rain
Rain
Rain
Rain
You were never a little boy
Just always a little man
My ideas for your
Were never part of your plan
I remember the day I had to let it all go
How far you had come
Yet so far left to go
I taught you all I knew
Shared with you the good and bad
You started making a life for you
Before any others even had a plan
Now I'm walkin' in the rain
Rain
Rain
Rain
I am so proud of you
The young man you are trying to be
But in the rest of my life
There will never be warmer son for me
Shinning bright
Pushing back the rain
Rain
Pain
Rain
Loved this. Sometimes how my old man makes me feel. Words that could have been his. Though I'm not 6 foot 3!!
He gave me an etching once, one dark night, with a picture - it said 'I will not forget you; I have held you in the palm of my hand'. I made it through that night. I have it here on my shelf.
Cancel my subscription to the Ressurection
Send my credentials to the house of detention
I got down on both knees
And told you the world had never looked so beautiful
Since I knew you
And you said 'yes'
this is lovely does it mean what I'm thinkin
Almost certainly!! You know me Pandi - forever cryptic! I tend to disguise some of the personal stuff as if noone has ever read any of the other stuff I've written on here! - not sure it's a great strategy!! Helps me feel better anyways..... Some of the short 'poems' relate to things I have written about in the longer pieces. if anyone could be bothered they could probably piece it all together easily enough. Maybe I'll write my magnum opus - a kinda poetic rendition of my life story!! I think there would be a few recurring themes - women being one of them! Sometime soon I'm going to write something deep and revealing and not cryptic, but poetic - and let it sink to the bottom of the forum!!
'Interesting words??'
My Dad has a Greek word he uses humorously (a real one!) - I think it means 'The noise of bubbles bursting (as they rise to the top of a glass of sparkling wine)' I'll try and look it up!!
Cancel my subscription to the Ressurection
Send my credentials to the house of detention
Just had a weird moment thinking there were revisions and editing by the mods going on in the poetry forum!!
Made me realise how when you come here you kind of take your life in your hands a bit - sharing personal stuff - in a more intense mode. Amazing how some of our words are precious, maybe sacred even, and others we can just let glide on by.....
I hope they don't delete too much from here. It's a mine of thought-provoking material, and a lot of people share a lot of themselves, which is always risky..... Small doses of poetry for me sometimes....
Where were you headin Pandi? I realise I probably killed the conversation. Sorry.
Cancel my subscription to the Ressurection
Send my credentials to the house of detention
Just had a weird moment thinking there were revisions and editing by the mods going on in the poetry forum!!
Made me realise how when you come here you kind of take your life in your hands a bit - sharing personal stuff - in a more intense mode. Amazing how some of our words are precious, maybe sacred even, and others we can just let glide on by.....
I hope they don't delete too much from here. It's a mine of thought-provoking material, and a lot of people share a lot of themselves, which is always risky..... Small doses of poetry for me sometimes....
Where were you headin Pandi? I realise I probably killed the conversation. Sorry.
What makes you think the mods are editing the poetry forum?
Just had a weird moment thinking there were revisions and editing by the mods going on in the poetry forum!!
Made me realise how when you come here you kind of take your life in your hands a bit - sharing personal stuff - in a more intense mode. Amazing how some of our words are precious, maybe sacred even, and others we can just let glide on by.....
I hope they don't delete too much from here. It's a mine of thought-provoking material, and a lot of people share a lot of themselves, which is always risky..... Small doses of poetry for me sometimes....
Where were you headin Pandi? I realise I probably killed the conversation. Sorry.
What makes you think the mods are editing the poetry forum?
No, I was wrong. I thought I had had some things deleted - but I was reading the wrong thread!!
It got me thinking though - I couldn't even quite remember what I had or hadn't written, and I don't have copies, so I was wondering what it would be like if you just had a post of yours deleted without any notice. I guess if they were going to censor the poetry, the first to go would be Chadwick's (was it?) about 'fucking your drugs counsellor' - hehehe - that was one of my favourites!!
Cancel my subscription to the Ressurection
Send my credentials to the house of detention
Just had a weird moment thinking there were revisions and editing by the mods going on in the poetry forum!!
Made me realise how when you come here you kind of take your life in your hands a bit - sharing personal stuff - in a more intense mode. Amazing how some of our words are precious, maybe sacred even, and others we can just let glide on by.....
I hope they don't delete too much from here. It's a mine of thought-provoking material, and a lot of people share a lot of themselves, which is always risky..... Small doses of poetry for me sometimes....
Where were you headin Pandi? I realise I probably killed the conversation. Sorry.
What makes you think the mods are editing the poetry forum?
No, I was wrong. I thought I had had some things deleted - but I was reading the wrong thread!!
It got me thinking though - I couldn't even quite remember what I had or hadn't written, and I don't have copies, so I was wondering what it would be like if you just had a post of yours deleted without any notice. I guess if they were going to censor the poetry, the first to go would be Chadwick's (was it?) about 'fucking your drugs counsellor' - hehehe - that was one of my favourites!!
Just had a weird moment thinking there were revisions and editing by the mods going on in the poetry forum!!
Made me realise how when you come here you kind of take your life in your hands a bit - sharing personal stuff - in a more intense mode. Amazing how some of our words are precious, maybe sacred even, and others we can just let glide on by.....
I hope they don't delete too much from here. It's a mine of thought-provoking material, and a lot of people share a lot of themselves, which is always risky..... Small doses of poetry for me sometimes....
Where were you headin Pandi? I realise I probably killed the conversation. Sorry.
What makes you think the mods are editing the poetry forum?
No, I was wrong. I thought I had had some things deleted - but I was reading the wrong thread!!
It got me thinking though - I couldn't even quite remember what I had or hadn't written, and I don't have copies, so I was wondering what it would be like if you just had a post of yours deleted without any notice. I guess if they were going to censor the poetry, the first to go would be Chadwick's (was it?) about 'fucking your drugs counsellor' - hehehe - that was one of my favourites!!
you cant censor/edit poetry
and if they ever do
i hope i am the first to go
No, I was wrong. I thought I had had some things deleted - but I was reading the wrong thread!!
It got me thinking though - I couldn't even quite remember what I had or hadn't written, and I don't have copies, so I was wondering what it would be like if you just had a post of yours deleted without any notice. I guess if they were going to censor the poetry, the first to go would be Chadwick's (was it?) about 'fucking your drugs counsellor' - hehehe - that was one of my favourites!!
you cant censor/edit poetry
and if they ever do
i hope i am the first to go
You would be top of the fucking list. And that is quite an accolade. God bless the USA - and pleading the first. Am gonna try and write my first poem in ages in honour of the poets out here... hmmmmm......
Cancel my subscription to the Ressurection
Send my credentials to the house of detention
Here's a picture to get the thread back on track-->
Running
Been running from my own shadow for far too long
I'm fucking fleeing
And I'm tired of it.
One day soon I'm gonna stop and turn around
Face behind me
And see
Faces of friends
Faces of me
Wasted children I swore had dropped by the wayside long ago
Keeping pace
Ahead
Around
Alongside
Safety in numbers
Fuck Piggy, we're lords of the flies now
One day I'm gonna turn around
We're gonna fight back
One day
Just like today
Cancel my subscription to the Ressurection
Send my credentials to the house of detention
Here's a picture to get the thread back on track-->
Running
Been running from my own shadow for far too long
I'm fucking fleeing
And I'm tired of it.
One day soon I'm gonna stop and turn around
Face behind me
And see
Faces of friends
Faces of me
Wasted children I swore had dropped by the wayside long ago
Keeping pace
Ahead
Around
Alongside
Safety in numbers
Fuck Piggy, we're lords of the flies now
One day I'm gonna turn around
We're gonna fight back
One day
Just like today
I love off the head writing like that, very cool and very good! thank you
Funny how hindsight,
Perspective
Gives you insights
Something I'd never realised before
from 15 years ago
How a young man,
a novice amongst seasoned inmates
Veterans
How they treated him with kindness
Knowledge
Understanding
The fellow inmates
How they 'knew the ropes'
Noone else showed me that kindness
That wisdom
How one old guy
(I thought he was completely mad at the time)
Used to kick off
Kicking the doors
Kicking the chairs
and shouting 'It's these fucking drugs! It's the bloody government!'
15 years of learning
and I've concluded
The same thing.
Would probably do the same as him
tomorrow
And how this other guy
Watched me for a week
and said
'Get up, have a shower, have a shave'
Sort yourself out.
God knows what his story was
Lost in the ether of this world
I know he'd seen a few sights though
From this look in his face
His understanding
Here in my mind's eye
I sometimes wonder
what he saw of 'me'
Cancel my subscription to the Ressurection
Send my credentials to the house of detention
Funny how hindsight,
Perspective
Gives you insights
Something I'd never realised before
from 15 years ago
How a young man,
a novice amongst seasoned inmates
Veterans
How they treated him with kindness
Knowledge
Understanding
The fellow inmates
How they 'knew the ropes'
Noone else showed me that kindness
That wisdom
How one old guy
(I thought he was completely mad at the time)
Used to kick off
Kicking the doors
Kicking the chairs
and shouting 'It's these fucking drugs! It's the bloody government!'
15 years of learning
and I've concluded
The same thing.
Would probably do the same as him
tomorrow
And how this other guy
Watched me for a week
and said
'Get up, have a shower, have a shave'
Sort yourself out.
God knows what his story was
Lost in the ether of this world
I know he'd seen a few sights though
From this look in his face
His understanding
Here in my mind's eye
I sometimes wonder
what he saw of 'me'
This poem gives me hope. I love hope and this story, for me it is the 'why' of life.
"God knows what his story was" and God must have known yours.
The two stories colliding brought understanding and shared wisdom and perspective
helping you both and now helping me.
We all have a story to share with each other. We all can help each other.
Thanks friend for sharing this with us. You are wise beyond your years.
The first time I saw him he was wired.
Aroused by just being alive and who he was.
Happy doesn't cover the feel, it was electric.
Charged with love.
The love of thousands touched.
The love from a father never known.
As the days passed
he calmed.
A quiet satisfaction filling his space.
Peaceful exhaustion,
serene fulfillment,
unplugged happiness.
It was a few days later
I came upon him.
Sitting alone, picturesque, on a barstool.
The sadness he felt, I also knew.
A bond for two strangers, living unknown.
There in his blue eyes I saw the longing.
Withdrawals from a power like no drug.
The need, the very essence of who he is,
where he's been and where he is going,
stronger than I could imagine.
It was my sadness, ten fold, aching my heart.
As my heart grasped and understood
this strange need, the bond we share,
our electric love,
a pure gratification,
the blue funk,
the requirement to continue this heavenly interaction,
my heart turned to know a happiness it had not yet known.
A bliss like no other lay over my sleeping mind
and I awoke with a smile and a song.
Comments
this is so well written it makes me very angry....
I would take great pleasure in beating a man like this
till he cried like a little girl then do it again..and again. :x
Godfather.
:wave: Jason,
this is great...great feeling and insight into parenting.
Love the universe, son/ sun/ rain/pain analogies, lovely, clever and meaningful.
I can relate to the bittersweetness, it is my life too.
Thank you for sharing, I'm glad you are here
they existed for all of us...god bless you
What's better than a cigar? Ed with a sitar
This is heavy. Hard to make it to the end, but I did. Brilliant writing
Send my credentials to the house of detention
Loved this. Sometimes how my old man makes me feel. Words that could have been his. Though I'm not 6 foot 3!!
He gave me an etching once, one dark night, with a picture - it said 'I will not forget you; I have held you in the palm of my hand'. I made it through that night. I have it here on my shelf.
Send my credentials to the house of detention
And told you the world had never looked so beautiful
Since I knew you
And you said 'yes'
Send my credentials to the house of detention
My Mama always used "big" words.
She challenged me with words, got me thinking and learning new ones.
She's gone and I'm rusty
Here goes....
Gledge: to squint the eyes
Musophobist: One who is scared or hates poems.
Nuzzing: The sound made by camels
Sockdolager: A hard hit
Kerfuffle: disorder, commotion
Got any to add?
Almost certainly!! You know me Pandi - forever cryptic! I tend to disguise some of the personal stuff as if noone has ever read any of the other stuff I've written on here! - not sure it's a great strategy!! Helps me feel better anyways..... Some of the short 'poems' relate to things I have written about in the longer pieces. if anyone could be bothered they could probably piece it all together easily enough. Maybe I'll write my magnum opus - a kinda poetic rendition of my life story!! I think there would be a few recurring themes - women being one of them! Sometime soon I'm going to write something deep and revealing and not cryptic, but poetic - and let it sink to the bottom of the forum!!
'Interesting words??'
My Dad has a Greek word he uses humorously (a real one!) - I think it means 'The noise of bubbles bursting (as they rise to the top of a glass of sparkling wine)'
Send my credentials to the house of detention
Made me realise how when you come here you kind of take your life in your hands a bit - sharing personal stuff - in a more intense mode. Amazing how some of our words are precious, maybe sacred even, and others we can just let glide on by.....
I hope they don't delete too much from here. It's a mine of thought-provoking material, and a lot of people share a lot of themselves, which is always risky..... Small doses of poetry for me sometimes....
Where were you headin Pandi? I realise I probably killed the conversation. Sorry.
Send my credentials to the house of detention
What makes you think the mods are editing the poetry forum?
No, I was wrong. I thought I had had some things deleted - but I was reading the wrong thread!!
It got me thinking though - I couldn't even quite remember what I had or hadn't written, and I don't have copies, so I was wondering what it would be like if you just had a post of yours deleted without any notice. I guess if they were going to censor the poetry, the first to go would be Chadwick's (was it?) about 'fucking your drugs counsellor' - hehehe - that was one of my favourites!!
Send my credentials to the house of detention
That really made me laugh and he'd love that!
I'm heading with you!!
you cant censor/edit poetry
and if they ever do
i hope i am the first to go
"Hear me, my chiefs!
I am tired; my heart is
sick and sad. From where
the sun stands I will fight
no more forever."
Chief Joseph - Nez Perce
You would be top of the fucking list. And that is quite an accolade. God bless the USA - and pleading the first. Am gonna try and write my first poem in ages in honour of the poets out here... hmmmmm......
Send my credentials to the house of detention
Running
Been running from my own shadow for far too long
I'm fucking fleeing
And I'm tired of it.
One day soon I'm gonna stop and turn around
Face behind me
And see
Faces of friends
Faces of me
Wasted children I swore had dropped by the wayside long ago
Keeping pace
Ahead
Around
Alongside
Safety in numbers
Fuck Piggy, we're lords of the flies now
One day I'm gonna turn around
We're gonna fight back
One day
Just like today
Send my credentials to the house of detention
Send my credentials to the house of detention
Funny how hindsight,
Perspective
Gives you insights
Something I'd never realised before
from 15 years ago
How a young man,
a novice amongst seasoned inmates
Veterans
How they treated him with kindness
Knowledge
Understanding
The fellow inmates
How they 'knew the ropes'
Noone else showed me that kindness
That wisdom
How one old guy
(I thought he was completely mad at the time)
Used to kick off
Kicking the doors
Kicking the chairs
and shouting
'It's these fucking drugs! It's the bloody government!'
15 years of learning
and I've concluded
The same thing.
Would probably do the same as him
tomorrow
And how this other guy
Watched me for a week
and said
'Get up, have a shower, have a shave'
Sort yourself out.
God knows what his story was
Lost in the ether of this world
I know he'd seen a few sights though
From this look in his face
His understanding
Here in my mind's eye
I sometimes wonder
what he saw of 'me'
Send my credentials to the house of detention
"God knows what his story was" and God must have known yours.
The two stories colliding brought understanding and shared wisdom and perspective
helping you both and now helping me.
We all have a story to share with each other. We all can help each other.
Thanks friend for sharing this with us. You are wise beyond your years.
Send my credentials to the house of detention
The first time I saw him he was wired.
Aroused by just being alive and who he was.
Happy doesn't cover the feel, it was electric.
Charged with love.
The love of thousands touched.
The love from a father never known.
As the days passed
he calmed.
A quiet satisfaction filling his space.
Peaceful exhaustion,
serene fulfillment,
unplugged happiness.
It was a few days later
I came upon him.
Sitting alone, picturesque, on a barstool.
The sadness he felt, I also knew.
A bond for two strangers, living unknown.
There in his blue eyes I saw the longing.
Withdrawals from a power like no drug.
The need, the very essence of who he is,
where he's been and where he is going,
stronger than I could imagine.
It was my sadness, ten fold, aching my heart.
As my heart grasped and understood
this strange need, the bond we share,
our electric love,
a pure gratification,
the blue funk,
the requirement to continue this heavenly interaction,
my heart turned to know a happiness it had not yet known.
A bliss like no other lay over my sleeping mind
and I awoke with a smile and a song.
Send my credentials to the house of detention
Less kisses - more poetry!!
Send my credentials to the house of detention