random poem of fate

Click the fate button to see another poem...

Liar Liar

I am an impressive liar

I lie everyday

to everyone and everything

I can even convince myself of some of my lies

 

These lies are pretty convincing

and have made me tell much more

I do dangerous things for the thrill

And I have never told another soul

 

The lies cause my scars

my addiction

and depression

though I never feel guilty telling them

 

The truth is

No one would even take a look

at the real me

if they knew about

my sexuality

 

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My community

Comments

BluePo1345

So relatable. Thanks for writing this!

Hercules

Sat, 01/04/2014 - 17:30 -- faith01

Location

I wash my eyes,

they soak up fear.

I used to look at you

As if you were Hercules;

Strong enough to protect me,

Tender enough to feel my pain.

But you weren’t Hercules

And life isn’t Disney.

 

In fairytales, brothers don’t let ropes

Kiss their necks like pieces of fatal jewelry.

Before you let the rope fall

Did you whisper ‘I love you’ at the door?

Did you tell mom you were sorry,

That life had just left you too sore,

Never mind the fact your dad abused you

And left you poor,

But to society you just couldn’t conform.

So you drank until you could no longer feel poisoned

By a life who tore,

Your soul to shreds.

 

I wish you could’ve heard mom scream

As your childhood melted her face.

I wash my eyes,

they soak up fear,

for a world too over populated

to let brothers fit in like a puzzle piece;

so mind boggling because you could’ve been Hercules

if the world didn’t throw away your puzzle piece.

And you wrestled the pain

Until it smothered you without release.

 

I remember when they whisked me into their room,

Away from the cluster of faces that were merging together

In our family room,

Because our family had just collapsed like the rope on your neck

when dad held me and said

‘baby, he’s up in heaven with the angels now,

As if you weren’t already my saving grace,

And when I wash my eyes,

They drip the fear that

I’ll forget your face,

But you appear in my dreams,

And tell me:

That death is a courageous thing,

And courage is wearing a necklace of shame.

That life doesn’t heal wounds

and the world isn’t all its projected to be.

But in the end all that’s left is a name

And you could’ve been Hercules

Strong enough to protect me,

Tender enough to feel my pain.

But life isn’t Disney,

and brothers let societies lies

claim them

as they wrap ropes around their necks

like a strangling kiss

as life hands them over to death.

Comments

faheyamg

"Before you let the rope fall
Did you whisper ‘I love you’ at the door?"

is such a beautiful line - really sums up what I (and I'm sure everyone who's been in a similar place) went through as soon as I found out. What were his last thoughts? Did he think of anyone other than himself on his way out? Incredibly written, especially the part about appearing in your dreams. Thank you for this poem; it brought tears to my eyes. Keep writing! 

Vanessa Rx

just tryna keep baby vanessa dressed has got me feeling stressed to death
that’s why you always see me smoking cess, it makes my problems less
apparent, single parent, baby’s crying now my eyes are flaring
up cause I ain’t slept in weeks, my doc prescribed Sonata
I’m tearing through that bottle, tempers flaring, shit, I oughta
wear a noose around my neck, cause I’ve been feeling so depressed,
ever since my baby momma left, delivered then she jetted
went to see the doc again, he responded with Effexor, 
I didn’t like the side effects so next he gave me Lexapro, 
decreased my highs and upped my lows, I wonder if Vanessa knows,
her daddy’s on the brink, his daughter’s bathing in the sink,
he needs a babysitter for his next appointment with the shrink,
cause all he ever does is think and think and think and think,
"What if I’m doing this all wrong? What will adult Vanessa think?"
"Will she thank me? I’m feeling anxious." "Here’s a bottle of Pristiq.
Take it with a shot of vodka, now you’re numb from teeth to feet”
rock my baby girl to sleep, keep trepidation buried deep
this medication keeps me sleepy and sedated every week
now my fate is up shit’s creek, cause I’ve convinced myself I’m weak
I could’ve been a professor but now I’m mingling with the lessers
all I want is a profession that impresses Vanessa
and addresses our need for green, cause she needs some new dresses
I’m indebted to her well-being, better pray I don’t mess up
all this worrying increasing my already high blood pressure
pop a Zestril, that’s four pills I’m paying for, that I can’t afford
not to mention my remaining payments on my Ford Escort
can’t pay your bills, you triflin’ good for nothing type of brother
you dug yourself so deep in debt don’t think you can recover
find solace in the bottles stocked inside your kitchen cupboard
toss back a couple shots until you drunkenly blubber
"I should’ve used a fucking rubber" y’all better run for cover
I’m a single dad, I’m drunk and mad, we’re headed for trouble

Comments

you said you wouldnt

break my heart

because you knew

how much it hurt

 

you said i would

find someone

better

and so far i dont think

thats ever

going to happen

 

you said you

loved me

but i dont think

that was true

either

 

because you dont hurt people you love.

 

-clearly youre a good liar.

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

Comments

A Light from Behind

Wed, 01/01/2020 - 21:41 -- roxy54

 Inspiration for most

 Is sought from the extraordinary

 A peculiar miracle

 Expected to enlighten

 

 It comes not from routine

 But from mere spontaneity

 A change in events 

 Formed from imperfect perfection

 

Yet something so simple 

Evoked a spark within me 

It was very common

And strangely unexpected

 

With time it should show

My thoughts I could not make out

Questions with no answer

Was all I made out

 

I was immersed and cautious

While I became more oblivious

My minded clouded

Failing to recognize it all

 

After spending all my time

Waiting for enlightenment 

Searching for that moment,

that thing, or that person

 

My inspiration followed me 

Picking me up

As I fell once again,

It silently supported me

 

Patient and undemanding

It traveled always with me

I turned every corner, searching

Unaware it was behind me

 

As I gave up searching

Filled with utter disappointment

I turned around and saw light

With open arms, they smiled

 

This poem is about: 
My family

Comments

The Islamic Prophet

Location

72501
United States
35° 47' 41.3304" N, 91° 39' 23.8968" W

A prophet crossed the white line

And he did not eat a swine.

Disgusted by booze,

He kept out the Jews.

After that he drank palm wine.

Comments

leela

devil.....i hate you......all that you have written about Islamic Prophet is wrong......

Doctor Bristle

Leela, why would you claim that everything about my poem is wrong? Calling me the devil is name-calling, and I do not appreciate that. I have no intention of hurting anyone. The poem in question is a limerick, a hilarious and sometimes naughty form of verse, made up of five lines that rhyme aabba. The first, second, and fifth lines contain three stresses; the third and fourth lines contain two stresses. It is designed to point out the hypocrisy of a Muslim prophet. Let me give you my analysis of "The Islamic Prophet" so you can understand it better:

"A prophet crossed the white line" tells the reader that a prophet did something wrong. The line that this prophet crossed was a proverbial white line. Since his birth, he lived his life as a Muslim, a follower of Islam. As the title indicates, the prophet is Islamic. At one point in his life, he broke a religious code or law. Any religion has its hypocrites, but Islam is no exception.

"And he did not eat swine." Observant Muslims will tell a person that eating pork is prohibited because Islam considers it unclean. For this reason, Islamic countries institute dietary laws to criminalize pork sales, restricting pork importation and consumption. However, some countries like Indonesia, Malaysia, Lebanon, and Turkey allow pork in international hotels and some supermarkets that serve the needs of non-Muslims and expatriates. These laws are justified by the Koran in passages pertaining to meat or blood of "swine" (Sura 2.173; 5.3; 5.60; 6.145; and 16.115).

"Disgusted by booze," indicates that the Islamic prophet chooses not to drink any form of alcohol. Muslims are prohibited from drinking alcoholic beverages. Some, but not all, Islamic countries criminalize the production, sale, and consumption of alcohol. The Sharia Law is used to prohibit alcohol, although non-Muslims are allowed to create, sell, and consume it.

"He kept out the Jews." This prophet would be a Muslim who bars Jews from his presence or discriminates them. His interpretation of the Koran is extreme, as if he literally obeys it. Like Christians, Jews are called "People of the Book" by the Koran. As long as they pay an extra tax, Jews and Christians are considered by Muslims as brothers and earlier forerunners to Islam. Tracing back to Abraham through his son, Ismael, instead of Isaac as the Jews did, Muslims believe that they are descendants of God's promise. They believe that the Koran corrects the alleged corruption of the Old and New Testaments, but there is still a legitimate link between Islam, Christianity, and Judaism. Christians, Jews, and Muslims have differing views regarding the Koran and Islamic history. Much of current Islamic culture, even in places that were tolerant toward Christians and Jews (e.g., Egypt), has witnessed an increase in religious persecution and violence. On an unrelated note, the words "booze" and "Jews" closely rhyme with each other.

"After that he drank palm wine." The Islamic prophet drank palm wine, which is considered an alcoholic beverage. His hypocrisy is revealed in this situation. He chose to adhere to Sharia Law since he became a Muslim, but he violated it after obeying it for a long time. His habit was to not have a drop of alcohol in his body. However, by drinking palm wine, he disobeyed Sharia Law and will likely face harsh punishment for his transgression.

I hope my analysis clears the misunderstanding we have about this limerick. Let me know if you have further questions. Please do not call me names because it is not legitimate criticism. Do not read my poem if you do not like it. I know that there are people in this world who may not enjoy comedy in this poem, but just remember that I am entitled to post this on the Internet because of my First Amendment right to free speech.

Feeling Blue

My fingers are blue
Numb
Rather like my feelings in my head
My messy brain
My crowded cranium
My busy mind, they call it
The weather is like my feelings
Stormy
Grey
Saturated with sad
The weather for reading sad books and watching sad movies
The weather for thinking sad thoughts
For thinking of memories
Good and bad
And in between
The weather makes my fingers blue
It makes them numb
It makes them numb like the feelings in my head make me sad
The circle of feelings, weather, and thoughts
The circle of my life
Never stopping, never starting, never taking a break
This is why I hate circles
They make my life what it is
They make it so I don’t want it
I don’t want my life
My life with circles and feelings and weather and thoughts- unstopping
Continuously circling

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Maltepe Yalı İkinci El Kitap Alanlar 0533 653 19 19 Kitap Alan Yerler

Maltepe Yalı İkinci El Kitap Alım Satım 0533 653 19 19,
Maltepe Yalı Eski Kitap Alanlar,
Maltepe Yalı İkinci El Kitap Alınır Satılır,
Maltepe Yalı Kitapçılar Sahaflar,
Maltepe Yalı kitap alanlar kitapcı sahaf toptan kitap alanlar,
Maltepe Yalı Antika El Yazma Kitap alanlar,
Maltepe Yalı Kitap Alanlar Roman Hikaye şiir Çizgi Roman,
Maltepe Yalı Dini Kitap Alanlar Hat Yazı Ferman Berat Alanlar,

This poem is about: 
Me
My community
My country
Our world

Comments