Slit my throat,
Slit my arms,
Stab that knife in both of my palms,
Get me out I want to go,
The pain in my eyes never seems to show,
Mom and Dad just don’t see, what she really meant to me,
My love for her will always be,
As the blood pours away from my lifeless heart,
I think of her name and carve it deep, a work of art,
I lie there and numb the pain,
My love for her is driving me insane…
Yesterday I tried to commit suicide…
The good news is..I didn’t succeed…
You don’t know how much I tried…
And cut just to watch my arms bleeding…
That night I really wanted to die…
I even went looking for pills…
As much as I tried me just couldn’t cry…
Just something I couldn’t feel.
It’s never as hard as it looks.
You have to trust and believe me.
Cutting can get you hooked.
And left with the feeling of uncertainty.
Or at least that’s what happens to me.
I try so hard to die and don’t succeed.
I knew a simple soldier boy
Who grinned at life in empty joy,
Slept soundly through the lonesome dark,
And whistled early with the lark.
In winter trenches, cowed and glum,
With crumps and lice and lack of rum,
He put a bullet through his brain.
No one spoke of him again.
You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye
Who cheer when soldier lads march by,
Sneak home and pray you’ll never know
The hell where youth and laughter go.
Anger is the devil inside our locked up souls,
Anger is the spirit in which I withhold,
Anger such demons who never is told,
Anger is which never ever grows old.
Anger is a lie when someone’s in trouble,
Anger is always there on the double,
That’s what anger is!
Anger is a virus
That needs not even air
To propagate contagion
Whenever it is shared.
Anger can’t be placed in quarantine
To contain its vicious spread
For anger feeds upon itself
And burns a flaming red.
Anger is all consuming
Anger does not desist
From destroying sensibilities
In that haze of its red mist.
Searing reason and rationale,
With the seething rage of rash,
Like the red blaze in the wild jungle,
Anger, in its impulsive brash,
Melts all hope’s and dreams to ash;
High up above the open, welcoming door
It hangs, a piece of wood with colors dim.
Once, long ago, it was a waving tree
And knew the sun and shadow through the leaves
Of forest trees, in a thick eastern wood.
The winter snows had bent its branches down,
The spring had swelled its buds with coming flowers,
Summer had run like fire through its veins,
While autumn pelted it with chestnut burrs,
And strewed the leafy ground with acorn cups.
Dark midnight storms had roared and crashed among
Its branches, breaking here and there a limb;
But every now and then broad sunlit days
Lovingly lingered, caught among the leaves.
Yes, it had known all this, and yet to us
It does not speak of mossy forest ways,
Of whispering pine trees or the shimmering birch;
But of quick winds, and the salt, stinging sea!
An artist once, with the patient, careful knife,
Had fashioned it like to the untamed sea.
Here waves uprear themselves, their tops blown back
By the gay, solar wind, which whips the blue
And breaks it into gleams and sparks of light.
Among the flashing waves are two white birds
Which swoop, and soar, and scream for very joy
At the wild sport. Now diving quickly in,
Questing some glistening fish. Now flying up,
Their dripping feathers shining in the sun,
While the wet drops like little glints of light,
Fall pattering backward to the parent sea.
Gliding along the green and foam-flecked hollows,
Or skimming some white crest about to break,
The spirits of the sky deigning to stoop
And play with the ocean in a summer mood.
Hanging above the high, wide open door,
It brings to us in quiet, firelit room,
The freedom of the earth’s vast solitudes,
Where heaping, sunny waves tumble and roll,
And seabirds scream in wanton happiness.
When you, my Dear, are away, away,
How wearily goes the creeping day.
A year drags after morning, and night
Starts another year of candlelight.
O Pausing Sun and Lingering Moon!
Grant me, I beg of you, this boon.
Whirl around the earth as never sun
Has his diurnal journey run.
And, Moon, slip past the ladders of air
In a single flash, while your streaming hair
Catches the stars and pulls them down
To shine on some slumbering Chinese town.
O Kindly Sun! Understanding Moon!
Bring evening to crowd the footsteps of noon.
But when that long awaited day
Hangs ripe in the heavens, your voyaging stay.
Be morning, O Sun! with the lark in song,
Be afternoon for ages long.
And, Moon, let you and your lesser lights
Watch over a century of nights.
I ask but one thing of you, only one,
That always you will be my dream of you;
That never shall I wake to find untrue
All this I have believed and rested on,
Forever vanished, like a vision gone
Out into the night. Alas, how few
There are who strike in us a chord we knew
Existed, but so seldom heard its tone
We tremble at the half-forgotten sound.
The world is full of rude awakenings
And heaven-born castles shattered to the ground,
Yet still, our human longing vainly clings
To a belief in beauty through all wrongs.
O stay your hand, and leave my heart its songs!
Cold, wet leaves
Floating on moss-colored water,
And the croaking of frogs-
Cracked bell-notes in the twilight.
The white mares of the moon rush along the sky
Beating their golden hoofs upon the glass Heavens
The white mares are all standing on their hind legs
Pawing at the green porcelain doors of the remote Heavens
Strain your utmost
Scatter the milky dust of stars
Or the tigers will leap upon you and destroy you
With one lick of his vermillion tongue
Red slippers in a shop-window, and outside in
the street, flaws of grey,
Swarms of ants
Starving for food
Stored in ant hills
Survival a question
So pathetic to read
I shout aloud
Oh God! I beg
Stop these sufferings
Save these innocents!
It’s the 21st century,
The world has advanced in many ways, yet poverty still cries.
Looking at the little boy with tears in eyes,
Desperately searching for love, companion, and good clothes
We all know what it clearly indicates and shows,
It haunts me, and part of me wants to make a change and,
the other me wants to forget
but I can surely bet
It’s something one with a good heart wouldn’t do!
If it takes some sacrifice, I’m ready
But is the rest of the world?
I see poverty in a rich man trying to find love,
I see poverty in a well-educated man who lacks modesty.
I see poverty in a literate man who lacks respect for the poor.
I see poverty in a selfish man who wants more
The world is still imperfect despite all the advancements,
Because there is,
Life’ it’s not easy, it comes with its bumps and it grinds.
Picking us up at times in our lives then kicking us straight from behind.
But one thing I’ve noticed as time goes by the humor that you behold
God has bestowed a magnificent gift that never makes people grow old.
Life is a dream to some.
Drifting without a goal.
Life is a tragedy to others,
Without knowledge of the soul.
Life can be what you make it.
With courage undaunted and strong.
If you try to do the best you can.
Instead of just drifting along.
Life is earnest, Life is demanding,
When we live by Universal Law.
For the laws are unfailing and true,
For the flawless action we feel awe.
Universal Law was in the beginning,
And will last for ever more.
When we live by these Laws
Life will cease to be a chore.
So live a life of one who knows,
That unseen Laws govern all.
Then your life will run smoothly,
There will never be a fall.
As late I journey’d o’er the extensive plain
Where native Otter sports his scanty stream,
Musing in torpid woe a Sister’s pain,
The glorious prospect woke me from the dream.
At every step, it widens to my sight –
Wood, Meadow, verdant Hill, and dreary Steep,
Following in quick succession of delight, –
Till all – at once – did my eye ravish’d sweep!
May this (I cried) my course through Life portray!
New scenes of Wisdom may each step display,
And Knowledge open as my days advance!
Till what time Death shall pour the undarken’d to ray,
My eye shall dart thro’ infinite expanse,
And thought suspended lie in Rapture’s blissful trance.