Swathed with the burnt and the grunts,
Yet never divulged.
There she stands in the darkness,
With her compulsive nudity.
Everyone loves her in the darkness,
As if they have never in their life,
Loved a woman!
With scratches and bruises over her body,
Those insignias of the suppressed sex!
Her cellulite body,
Rubbed against those paunches,
Many penetrated her physique,
But never could caress her soul.
She is a woman,
Driven by the society and the life.
Yearning for the earning,
To stand amongst the lives,
Selling everything she possessed,
Her flesh and her coccus of freedom.
A promiscuous prostitute,
Erudite people like them call her.
Everyone knows who she is,
And she knows what they stand for.
Both of them,
Just like a blithe in the midnight,
Yet strangers in the midway.
Yet ostracized in the seminars,
But embraced again in the bars.
But she knows them....
..... And their disguised faces!

This competition never officially ended? When is it going to?

Heat reflecting from sand, that's all. But why is it cool and blue and delicious?

Dragging this pride with heavy feet.

How this heart pumps such unwilling beats.

Of how life flaunts all its beautiful treats.

Treats which you probably will never meet.



They say there'll be times for you to taste sweet.

A pinch of nectar after all that you've bleed.

They glorify love as if its air that they breathe.

I know its adrenaline but its rush is dying.



What else can i drink through this throat of mine?

To quench this thirst that never has its end.

I tire and tire just to get a night's sleep.

But the thinking never stops, it just keeps burrowing deep.



Unfulfilled, this daily death disguised as sleep.

Awaken, irritated by the alarm's beep.

Taken in this routine as a recurring dream.

My reality as a liquid, pouring out of its cup's brim.

Heart with heavy beats.

Mind nurturing insane seeds.

Body, beaten down by self angst.

Life, unenthusiatically lived.

Love.

Where could thy be?



-jojo-

Friends

How do i discribe someone like you
Who's honest, kind and always true
you make me smile each and every day
Im so lucky your friendship came my way

When we talk you are so sweet
Your words have swept me off my feet
You've shown me strength when i am down
Always smiling never a frown

I believe friends today are hard to find
But the best ones of all are in my mind
Never to be forgotten and cherished over time
I'm so glad your a wonderful friend of mine

I care for you dearly, yr so special to me
And i want you to know you always will be
Cause you have a quality so rare and true
Amazing,genuine and loyal.. yes that is you!!

Friendships fall apart everyday without a care
But know my friend i will always be there
Whenever you need me just give me a shout
It goes without question, it goes without doubt..

And if your down and your days seem so bleak
Think of me and let your heart speak
I'm sure it will tell you to let the sun shine through
I'll always be close... always, just for you!!!

Written by likey

Chaotic galaxies in a disembodied head

Is the place where all hidden may lie;
On many psychotic paths they led,
Revealed with the Double Pupiled eye,

To exude the enigmatas of its dead.

How far for our catharsis, our cure,
Do they feed in horror's miscellany?
'Til all distinction the Phyche blurs,

And as surreals, become select yet many.

Nestled is, in hollow ribs, an innate flame
That would we but first dare to know
Could make all uniquely the same,

For when dark shapes the spirit throws,
I shall be excited, to play this game...

--SigSaw (Sept. 30th, 2006)

It’s too late for regrets
Because what you’ve done
To the ones who love you
Time heals but never forgets

Spirits visit me now only to haunt
I can hear them, I see them fleetingly
They come with the shadows to taunt
In my room, all alone he’ll sing to me

My long dead stepfather, belt in hand
Dog, dog, how dog you do, come here
Turning away, I cover my face with my hands
My reason tells me he can’t get any nearer

Yet his voice gets louder, screams of hate
You’ve become the man you despised
Enmity and evil never your dreams escape
I beat the hell into you, I made you wise

Eyes on fire as he raises his belt and bellows
But you still don’t teach with this, you dog
Come here you little whelp, get your belting
HOW MANY TIMES DID I TELL YOU TO BEAT THE DOGS?!

The spirit is gone after metaphysical abuse
Ultraviolet welts appear under my eyes
My face is tear-stained, my brain obtuse
My back is marked with infra-red stripes

I take a special smoke from the Band-Aid box
Sit back and reflect on the discipline I got
My hands are shaking and after two tries
I get my pacifier lit and then my brain sighs

But shadows don’t leave even with light
Shadows in your mind, memories you tried
To forget but remained like sheer fright
From seeing your brother the night he died

The night he ran away from a belt beating
He was free, alive; it was hell he was cheating
Saturday night, smoking dope, beach meeting
That was the ritual, time then wasn’t fleeting

Rick drove from home that night on his Honda
Taking off, no plan for return, just thinking NOW
He flew down the highway to his girlfriend, Rhonda
She was waiting for him expectantly with a frown

They took off together to meet us at the beach
We were all partying like Chong and Cheech
I wondered if he got away from that preachy
Bastard without any long-winded speeches

Rhonda was the coolest chick; we called her ‘Juice’
With her on the back, she looked just like a papoose
Rick was humping that Honda trying to seduce
A little more speed than it was supposed to produce

About a mile from the turnoff to the party run
There was an incident between Rick and some fool
Rhonda said later she didn’t recognize anyone
The car swerved in front of them and Rick lost control

Rick flew over his handlebars headfirst into a ditch
Rhonda flew over Rick, flipped, and went over it
They say Rick’s brain died pretty quick when it hit
Rhonda had a few scratches and nightmares of it

I still think of Rick nearly every day, and then I cry
Not for long, or people ask me what’s wrong, or why
Sometimes when I’m in town, I’ll give Rhonda a try
On the chance she’s visiting her parents, I drive by

I would knock on the door; it’s not that I’m a coward
It’s that no one wants me near; I guess that’s for the best
They call me homicidal for killing that Bastard
But hey, I did my time; I’m still doing it, no regrets

JustBeCuz © Sep 26,06

Hurt

Hurt is an emotion yet, an entity -
Simultaneously, abstract and concrete.
Reasons vary: some harsh word spoken
Penetrating deeply within;
Maybe an unpardonable transgression
Directed, purposely, towards you
Leading into inner unrest; turmoil.
You feel the thrust; the jab;
Driving you into the unknown; insanity.
What you feel, you try to analyze
Only to learn that you didn’t get far.
“What do you feel?” an inner voice cries out
From the depths of your soul. “What do you feel?”
Confused beyond all point of returning,
Depression beyond any comparison
As everything; everyone; the world
Closes, tightly, in on you
Depriving you of space;
Removing from your being any chance
Of breathing clean, fresh air.
It endures; it is everlasting -
The pain, the aching, the void.
Self-control is wearing thin.
Rapidly, patience is coming to an end.
The hurt is unbearable - no longer
Lending the ability to cope.
Yet, you continue to hope for something
Which never seems to come.
Meanwhile, you try desperately
To have faith to believe it will.

By Norma Budden aka Poetry Princess
Copyright 1992

...PASSING MATTERS...

LOVE is a passing matter;
others passed this way before,
passing passion and delight,
passing moments of despair,
passing ‘round the curve of time,
to find,
Life’s passing matters matter not.


THOUGHT is a passing matter;
passing passersby unseen,
I pass in crowded Solitude,
knowing as I pass alone,
ALL pass alone, together,
alone arriving at the thought,
Life’s passing matters not.


LIFE is a passing matter;
all are merely passersby,
passing to a bend in time,
where passing matters,
that passing mattered so,
will matter (not) again
to passing passersby.


… passing LIFE in THOUGHT, I see,
LOVE’s passing mattered most …
… to me …


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Rhey W. Hedges, February 8, 1981

(submitted Sept 15, 2006 for Poet of the Year competition)

wish i could read the plaque