By Gwynn
Do you have a pen?
ahhh, thank you, my friend.
Do I what?
Why, certainly not!
No, I apologize-
It's just, sometimes,
I'll say too much,
when I know I should hush.
I'll buy you a drink,
that'll help, I think,
and...
What'd you say?
Please, repeat, I pray-
Ohhh, I see- that again.
Well, my friend,
if you insist...
It's called prose
where I compose a...
No, you've got me wrong-
it's not a song.
It's a written story;
a worded glory.
I write some thoughts
more oft' than not,
and as I ponder,
my mind just wanders
over possibilities,
until I finally see,
a plot emerge.
Then my thoughts converge
to...
Ohhh, sorry- I know,
I ramble on so.
But, you did ask
and I felt it my task,
to explain in detail
how I plot a tale.
That drink? Well, yes,
it's time, I guess.
You enjoy your beer-
I see it appears
I've said far too much,
so, I'll just hush.
First, I thank you again
for the use of your pen.
I'll return it, I swear,
I think it only fair...
Ohhh, I've done it again?
Well then, goodnight, my friend.
By Gwynn
When Eve had led her lord away,
And Cain had killed his brother,
The stars and flowers, the poets say,
Agreed with one another...
They'd cheat the cunning tempter's art,
And teach the race its duty,
By turning on their wicked hearts,
Eyes of light and beauty.
A million sleepless lids, they claimed,
Would serve them as a warning...
So the flowers watched from day to night,
The stars from eve to morning.
Over hill and prairie, field and lawn,
Their dewy eyes upturning,
Still they watch from reddening dawn,
Till western skies are burning.
And each flower tells a single tale,
A tale of shame so crushing,
That some turn white as sea bleached shells,
And most are always blushing.
But when the patient stars look down,
And with all their light discover,
The murderer's heart, the cheater's smile,
The lips of lying lovers...
They try to shut their saddened eyes,
But O' the vain endeavor!
We see them twinkling in the skies,
And so they wink forever.
By Gwynn
| Author Note: | I wrote this for my mother... |
You sit there and look back on your life, painfully reliving bygone days and
the memories of all that was, has been, and could never possibly be.
You laugh despite the bitter sorrows, buried deep within all those tomorrows
of hope-filled promises, and shattered dreams.
The irony isn't lost on me, no, not me, for I've walked those streets of
could-have-been's and possibilities, only to arrive at the same old conclusions:
Pre-determined, pre-ordained, destiny or fate, it's all the same;
just a fancier way to hide the truth and say that life's confusing.
Anyway, I stray, and there was a point to be made but, for now, I hardly
know how to make it, or the words that I should say...
But I shall try...Let me see...
Life is full of ups and downs and broken dreams, could-have-been's,
would-have-been's, and numerous other things.
But despite the sorrows of all your bitter tomorrows, day fades into days
and week into weeks, until they all have become years that passed in a haze.
Then one day you awake, left with only memories; Your life passed away
while you were in a daze, held prisoner, bound and chained,
by your sorrows.
That's when it becomes clear that, maybe, my dear, there were other sights
to see, hopes to hold, loves to be had, and so many other dreams.
All the questions you asked, the same as me, become pointless, you see,
because no answer exists that can ever win back the time you missed.
So, take the time now, with a smile or a frown, to live in the day,
for tomorrow's uncertain and yesterday's gone and a memory's only
as good as the things you have done.
| Author Notes | Life can only be understood by looking backward, but it must be lived by looking ahead. |
By Gwynn
They say it's all illusion,
Just figments of my mind,
But they always talk in circles,
And their words are only lies.
I can see the road before me,
I just fear to walk alone,
For regardless of who is there,
This path must be my own.
The path of new beginnings,
The path to right old wrongs,
Truth that has been long denied,
To simply prove I'm strong.
But what lies beyond these walls
I've built to keep me sane?
And if I were to tear them down,
What of me would then remain?
A figment of who once I was,
When youth was still a friend?
Or the shell of what I have become,
Since youth has met its end?
Those answers, ever elusive,
Lie somewhere tucked within.
And if I chance to seek them,
My journey must soon begin.
By Gwynn
Venomous hate, the poison of life,
Crouches hungrily, waiting to strike.
With its gossamer threads, so silky and fine,
It spins a web of deception and lies.
A tooth for a tooth, an eye for an eye,
These are the deceptions with which it binds.
It feeds on the unwary, the trusting, the blind,
Eating their hearts, warping their minds.
Creeping in slowly, silent as night,
Spinning its webs, casting its lines.
Patiently waiting till the time is right,
Then O' so slowly pulling them tight.
But we are its strength, yes, you and I,
We are the ones who fuel its life.
Its up to us to see past its lies,
To break its bonds, release its ties.
By Gwynn
In life we claim there must be more,
So endlessly we search...
Yet it's all been in a vain attempt,
To assure us of our worth.
So far it's been a fruitful search,
But one of our own corruption,
That in the end, can only lead,
To our ultimate destruction.
"What if", being the foremost question,
Is what has led us to our follies.
For from our birth, we as Man,
Have sought to equal God.
Not through education or policy,
No, you see, our reach is far too grand!
It is through science and its applications,
That we have assured ourselves we can.
So, ever seeking, ever reaching,
We have closed our eyes to truth;
It's all for the betterment of man, we claim,
O' the lies we've told our youth!
And while men will make war to play at God,
(Just to prove we're so far reaching)
It's the control and power, our true desires,
That become the point of all we're teaching.
Now, man foolishly plays at God
By becoming their own creators, and soon
We shall be born, no longer from the womb,
But within the test tubes of our makers.
And all I can think is...
What new creation lies ahead,
In our quest to be as God?
What dire fate awaits our lives,
Before we find that we are frauds?
By Gwynn
She slipped through the night,
A phantom of life,
Cloaked by the wind and the rain...
Stepped to the edge
Of a precarious ledge
To lament her loss and her pain.
In a grief choked voice,
She questioned the choice,
Her lover'd made nights ago...
To take his own life,
Thus ending his strife,
And leaving her lost and alone.
Yelling out "Why?!"
She knelt there to cry,
But lost in her grief and her woe...
She slipped instead
On the rain slicked ledge
And plunged to the rocks below.
The storm raged waves,
Laying their claim,
Carried her off to the sea...
And her pain ridden cry
Was lost in the night
Like a mist on a warm summer's breeze.
Yet sadly, it seems,
Her young lover's dreams,
Had ended in much the same way...
For in the late midnight hour
He'd knelt, picking a flower
And fell to the same twisted fate.
By Gwynn
| Author Note: | This contains foul language! |
Every morning I get out of bed,
Smack the clock, scratch my head...
Stumble to the entry door
To get my paper and read of war.
I fix my coffee and try to cook,
While the phone keeps ringing off the hook.
Then it's off to work again,
To write reports and hand them in...
With the same old people pissing me off,
One of which I call the boss!
But when five o'clock finally rolls around,
I lock the door and hit the town.
Come two a.m. I call it a night,
Stumble home, turn out the lights.
And in the morning I'll get out of bed,
Smack the clock, scratch my head.
Stumble again to the entry door,
Get my paper, read of war.
I'll fix my coffee and try to cook,
While the phone keeps ringing off the hook.
Then I'll be off to work again...
Cause it's the same old shit,
It never ends!
By Gwynn
| Author Note: | Editors Choice Award winner... |
When dreams are discovered through another's eyes,
And days pass by with no thoughts of time...
When the mystery is solved with a single touch,
And the slightest smile makes you blush...
When you can hold a hand and see your life
Shared with the other and know it's right...
That's when you know, heart and soul,
That what you've found is truly love.
In you I can see all of my dreams,
Days go by with time unseen...
I can see forever in your eyes,
and I know inside, this time, it's right.
My heart and soul belong to you,
There is no one else who could ever do.
By the Lord above I know it's true...
I was meant to love and be loved by you.
| Author Notes | This poem won me the first of three Editors Choice Awards. I share it with you in the hopes that it can lift your heart as much as it did mine when I wrote it. |
By Gwynn
Just one more kiss...
Before we say goodbye,
And count on me,
To return to you in time.
Just one more glance...
Look deep and you will find,
My devotion for you,
Burning in my eyes.
Just one more time...
To hold you in these arms,
Cradled in comfort,
Safe from danger and harm.
Just once more...
For the rest of our lives.
Just once more...
Till the end of time.
By Gwynn
Love is like a flower,
In a field of dreams.
For each breath of wind,
A petal falls it seems.
But when the winds die down,
And the seeds begin to part;
A gentle breeze, and the love of the sun,
Is all it takes for love to start.
So if we hold each other close,
And face the changing winds,
We'll have the strength to carry us through,
Like petals on the wind.
By Gwynn
| Author Note: | Editor's Choice Award winner in 97' |
Children are the gifts
That God has given us.
They are our joy,
Our comfort and our pain.
They are our greatest dream...
Our grandest wish...
And, most of all,
The greatest mystery.
With them, we learn patience,
And come to know real pride.
They bring to us a wellspring
Of unconditional love.
And you, my precious child,
Sent from the Lord above,
Were the missing piece
That finally made me whole.
To hold you in my arms,
Watching your every move,
Has brought me great joy.
To look into your eyes,
Innocent and loving,
Has taught me real love.
To watch you as you grow,
And see what you will become,
Has made me proud.
To watch you smile,
And know it's because of me,
Has given me peace.
Just to know that you
are a part of me,
Brightens my soul.
I love you...
My darling, my sweet,
My precious gift.
| Author Notes | This won The Editor's Choice Award in 1997. It has no real rhyme, but then, it isn't supposed to. It is more of an ode. |
By Gwynn
| Author Note: | This is what happens when you hear WHY too often! |
Why a door is a door, and not known as a hat?
Or a frog or a bird, weren't first called cats?
Why the grass is green, and a rose is red?
Or why gold isn't silver, and bronze isn't lead?
It's really quit simple, never you fear!
Just look around and the answer is clear...
Have you ever tried to wear a door, or maybe shut a hat?
Or seen a bird chase a frog, or a frog chase a cat?
If the grass wasn't green, and a rose wasn't red,
Why, we'd have green colored roses, with red leaves instead!
So, gold isn't silver, and bronze isn't lead...
And a couch is a couch, not a lamp or a bed,
because if you decided to switch it all 'round,
you'd never understand anything I said aloud.
By Gwynn
| Author Note: | This was written for my son. |
Johnny was a happy boy,
Always on the go,
But when it came to bedtime,
He always shouted, "NO!".
See, what he really believed,
(and what he'd NEVER claim)
Is there just might be monsters there,
Waiting to come out and play.
You see, little Johnny,
Had a BIG imagination,
And it always left him,
A little bit suspicious.
After he was kissed goodnight,
He'd lay quietly in bed.
Slowly, he'd pull up his feet,
And put the covers over his head.
He'd close his eyes and hold his breath,
Make sure that he laid good and still,
Then pray to God, that one more time,
They couldn't grab his heels.
It's not that he was SURE they'd get him,
(then again, you never knew!)
But if monsters were really hiding there,
He didn't know just what they'd do.
Well late one night, as he lay warm in bed,
(the covers snug around his head)
His closet door stood open,
Casting shadows in the room.
Johnny wanted so to close,
But it meant he'd have to move!
So, instead he lay there quietly,
trying to think of what to do.
He could throw a shoe to flip the switch,
Casting light into the room.
But still that meant he'd have to move,
And that, of course, just wouldn't do!
What else was there to do, he wondered,
And made a list up in his mind,
But each idea seemed hopeless,
So he threw them all aside.
It's up to me, he thought and sighed,
then quickly peeked around.
There was nothing left for him to do,
But turn over and look down.
So, slowly he lifted the blanket,
(taking in a deep breath first)
Then poked his head beneath his bed
And waited for the worst.
To his surprise, nothing stirred!
No yellow eyes, or hairy claws...
There were no monsters waiting there,
To stuff him in their jaws.
Quickly now, he closed the door,
And jumped back in his bed.
He laughed and smiled, shook his head,
And then he softly said....
"There's no such thing as monsters,
Underneath my bed!"
Little Johnny closed his eyes,
And drifted off to sleep....
A smile on his face,
And the covers at his feet.
| Author Notes | My son and I wrote this poem together when he was five yrs. Old. He used to beg for me to read it to him before he went to bed just to be sure. Youthful imagination. |
By Gwynn
| Author Note: | Revelations is my favorite book of the Bible. I dwell upon it often. |
Underneath the pale moonlight,
comes the evil tides of life.
Murderous hands and lying eyes,
deceptive mysteries through lasting ties.
Masochistic plots to tell,
sadistic secrets to unveil.
To final darkness is a journey done,
now we wait for what's to come.
Four horsemen there shall be,
seven signs for man to see.
Death and destruction by hunger and sword,
and still we shall deny the Lord.
Flowing waters of crimson red,
fill the hearts of man with dread.
Fire and brimstone will fill the sky,
breaking all our earthly ties.
A blood red moon shall light the nights,
as we wander beneath the black sunlight.
For the day of judgment is in sight,
and who will stand beneath its might?
By Gwynn
You thought to bury them some place dark,
But even old bones retain a spark,
And their fleshless woes, so long denied,
Speak the truth of what you hide.
Look deep within their soulless eyes,
See the crimes for which you're tried,
See their sorrow, feel their shame;
Share their burden, taste their blame.
Your breath rattles like long dead bones,
And you close your eyes to what you're shown,
As the ghosts of skeletons you once hid,
Come back to remind you of what you did.
Did you really not think that one day soon,
They'd escape their prison and come after you?
More's the pity if you never thought,
You'd pay the price for what you've wrought.
By Gwynn
The tears I feel today,
I'll wait to shed tomorrow,
Though I'll not sleep this night,
Nor find succor from my sorrow.
My eyes must keep their sight,
I dare not be tear-blinded.
I must be free to talk,
Not choked with grief; clear-minded.
My mouth cannot betray,
The anguish that I know.
Yes, I'll keep my tears another day,
But my grief will never go.
By Gwynn
| Author Note: | Published work. Also selected for recording. Hope you enjoy! |
Sadistic thoughts engulf the meek,
Humbling few and breaking the weak.
Level-headed mad-men still walk the streets,
Lord only knows if it's them when you meet.
Decative disciples of the masochistic trade,
Prove their ploys as the sun begins to fade.
Blind innocence is stripped away,
As new evils intrude on our children's play.
Not even the rich are immune to this,
For the smell of greed brings a sweet kiss.
Control and power moves to devour with a mighty fist,
And when they walk on the poor they rarely miss.
To rule over the weak they find such bliss,
And so seal their fates with a poisoned kiss.
Of sun and moon they have no need,
It's on the darkness of man that they feed.
Money will exchange from hand to hand,
As time fades away like grains of sand.
I stand, silently, in this world of evil yearnings,
Fantasizing of man's evil perversions.
| Author Notes | This is a published work. This is a recorded work. Sorry, but I feel the need to repeat myself in case someone decides this is a three star work or less. It has already earned its merit and proved its worth. I just wanted to share it. |
By Gwynn
Sheath my desire with care
Beneath the ghostly moonlight,
As darkness trembles inwards,
Ebbing from black to white,
Momentarily reflecting
My love and fear.
Honeyed desire, sultry and hot,
Flushes skin silky and soft
With fragrant sweat
Heavy with memories of loving,
Tantalizing in its harmony,
Promising a perfect end.
Remember this satisfied darkness-
The last flush of ending night,
Sultry with silky desire-
As the new day dawns
And the night's passion ebbs
With the smiling crescent moon.
By Gwynn
| Author Note: | Converted song... |
A little girl with broken dreams,
Walks down the streets alone.
Dirty and cold she sells
The only thing she owns.
She's just thirteen years old,
But her youths already blown.
She's got nothing left to hope for,
Cause her hope's already flown.
She tells herself
It could all change ... Someday,
But in her heart she thinks,
That death's the only escape...
So another angel falls.
A little boy, now two days old,
Will never be a man.
His mother gives all she can,
But nothing is all she has.
Instead, she holds her newborn baby
Tightly to her breast,
As he closes his eyes
For a last peaceful rest.
She wipes away the tears
Falling down her cheeks...
Sticks a needle in her arm,
And joins him in sleep.
So another angel falls...
Life clipped their wings
Before they ever got the call.
What else could they do
With their backs against the wall?
When the world that lives around them
Doesn't notice at all...
If another angel falls?
What would you do,
If a child passed you by...
With little hands outstretched,
With hunger in his eyes?
Would you simply walk away
Just to spare yourself the pain?
Simply close your eyes,
Just to spare yourself the sight?
When you know deep inside,
Where the child in you cries...
That by playing this part,
Another angel falls.
By Gwynn
Use my faith, that I might see
Wisdom's truth and lessons weaved.
Use my tongue, that I might speak
Of You to all I'll chance to meet.
Use my hands, that I might reap
When others toil and only weep.
Use my feet, that I might find
A better path on which to set my life.
Use my heart, that I might strive
To never be cruel, and always be kind.
Use this body, I claimed as mine
For the glory of your Son, Jesus Christ.
I give all of me to you above...
With all my joy, all my love.
By Gwynn
Wanting you near me
When really I don't.
Wishing you'd hold me...
But hoping you won't.
Wanting to reach out,
To gently take your hand,
And tell you I'm sorry,
Yet knowing I shan't.
Yearning to whisper,
"How I love you so",
But never quite able
With this lump in my throat.
Needing to want you
With a passionate flame.
But despite my desire,
My passion wanes.
Wanting to trust you,
To get past the pain.
Knowing I can't,
Torn by blame.
Yearning to be happy,
But the past plays its part,
Constraining my will,
Binding my heart.
Needing to give all of me,
But striving in vain,
Against a soul,
Burdened by shame.
So take the initiative...
Wrap me in your arms,
Whisper you love me,
And I'm safe from harm.
Tell me you need me,
And you'll always stay...
Despite all my guilt,
Despite all my blame.
Tell me you're sorry,
And dispel my pain.
Wipe away my tears...
Kiss away my shame.
Tell me you want me,
When my passion wanes.
Assure me we'll work harder,
To restore the flame.
Reach out to me,
And promise you'll help.
Because, you see,
I can't do it by myself.
By Gwynn
| Author Note: | For ALL Women who have been abused! |
What's one more burden to shoulder,
When you think I carry it so well?
What's one more reason to feel shame,
If it's another notch in your belt?
What's one more reason to feel hurt,
As long as it isn't you who cries?
What's one more reason to shift blame,
When you can pretend you tried?
What's one more false accusation,
When you always believe you're right?
What's one more bruise to cover up,
When you'll only deny; one more lie?
What's one more burden? One more shame?
One more hurt, or one more blame?
One more accusation, and one more bruise?
One more lie? You want the truth?
Well then... I'll tell you:
This burden's NOT mine.
You'll carry it well!
The shame is all yours.
Stick THAT in your belt!
The hurt will be YOURS,
I'll see that YOU cry!
Shove the blame up your ASS
With your pathetic "I tried"!
This is MY accusation,
You'll see that I'm right!
To hell with the bruises,
And FUCK all your lies!
Enough of this SHIT!
I won't TAKE anymore!
You'll dominate ME?
Then prepare for a war!
THAT is the difference
Between just ONE MORE!
| Author Notes | I was once a battered woman, suffering through these trials and emotions. This is what I thought when I had enough courage to finally say NO MORE! |
By Gwynn
Please turn away...
I can't bear to see you cry.
But I won't hold your heart,
And I can't give you mine.
My kiss can't be a promise;
My touch can't be a vow.
Though I need a hand to hold,
My heart's not ready now.
I won't make a promise
I know that I can't keep-
The battle might be won,
But my scars run deep.
Maybe down the road,
The days won't seem so bleak;
Love won't break my heart,
Or cause my soul to weep.
Maybe my heart will heal;
My love set free...
Then I can share with you,
Every part of me.
For now I need to feel the breeze;
To gently touch the sky.
I need the chance to live my dreams,
Spread my wings and fly.
By Gwynn
To be held and had, loved and wanted...
Caressed and kissed, kept so vaunted...
Endeared, endured, lovingly taunted...
Blissfully, sinfully, joyfully wanton...
Ahh, the blushes of bittersweet youth!
To look on love as something so couth...
Remember the years love was so smooth
Before we aged and learned the truth?
Now to be held is something we fear...
Never quite safe with someone so near...
Painfully swiping away all the tears...
Yearning the loss of something so dear!
Grieving the innocence of what we lost...
Counting the tears as we cry the cost...
And oh the memories, how they haunt!
Of the very first loves we held and lost.
By Gwynn
I long to hold you....To be near you....
Our hands entwined, our hearts combined.
But oh the bittersweet consequence;
The cruel agonies of stolen bliss.
What cruel fate, that I should take
The lover that is loved by another.
Still thy beat, my traitorous heart,
For the consequences of thy part!
Tho foul they be, far sweeter indeed,
This loving touch I crave so much;
The whispered words, sweetly poured,
Within my ears of ever more.
By Gwynn
Fuzzy Wuzzy wuz a bear...
Fuzzys' wuzzy had LOTS of hair
but Fuzzys' little Wuzzy
wuz barely visible down there.
So Fuzzy got some tweezers
a little hair spray too,
went to town with his comb
to see what he could do.
Grabbed a little fuzzy...
while Wuzzy hid his head...
teased a bit, tweezed a bit,
till Wuzzys' head was red.
Despite his throbbing Wuzzy...
Fuzzy grabbed the spray...
spritzed a bit, spit a bit...
till Wuzzy couldn't play.
Fuzzy laughed a bitter laugh
and put the comb aside....
grabbed a pair of scissors
while Wuzzy tried to hide.
"Naughty little Wuzzy!"
Fuzzy sadly sighed...
"To duck and run and miss the fun!"
then cut the fuzz aside.
Now Fuzzy's little Wuzzy
hangs limply there and cries.
For poor Fuzzy's little Wuzzy
has lost his fuzzy pride.
Next time you hear Fuzzys' song,
remember what you've read..
Fuzzys' little rhyme should say
something more like this instead....
Fuzzy Wuzzy wuz a bear...
but Fuzzy's Wuzzy had no hair...
Fuzzy's Wuzzy wuzn't fuzzy
cuz Fuzzy Wuzzy shaved it bare.
By Gwynn
She sells sea shells by the sea shore...
and the shells she sells are surely seen
as something shining silky sweet
over pearls of white and perky pink.
Remove the shells she surely sells
and soon she'll start to weave her spell....
a spell of sunbleached sandy seas
upon a shore of seductive streams.
But 'ware the sights of shelley dreams
along this shore of seductive streams!
For share she shall her shelley sheaves
and shake the senses with what was seen...
Then smack the shmuck who had the luck
to see the shells she surely sells
beside the sea of stary streams
for the seductive sights he's surely seen.
By Gwynn
I AM...
The darkness that wakes when you weep -
the dispair that whispers while you sleep.
I AM...
The pain that smiles as your heart grows cold -
wrending your strength and peircing your soul.
I AM...
The hate that drives you to heinous acts,
revealing all lies while hiding the facts;
I AM...
the truth that shows you what you really are,
beneath the beauty where you hide your scars.
I AM...
The knife that struck you; the wound that made you -
the shame that birthed you; the tears that bathed you.
I know you and the secrets that you keep
when the moon is high and the night is deep.
I know you from the deepest core of your being;
what you're thinking, what you're seeing.
I know what is and what has been -
your greatest pride; your darkest sin.
I AM...
More intimate that any other;
mother, father, sister, brother.
I AM...
The hand that caresses your cheek -
the arms that hold you as you weep.
And it is I ALONE who shall always be near
to share in your sorrow; to bask in your fear.
Only I shall remain when all peace has gone
to tighten my hold; to strengthen our bond.
We shall be ever together, never apart -
my love a curse that warms your heart.
For guilt I AM and I shall always be
a part of you as you are of me.
By Gwynn
Once upon a time,
In a land far away-
There lived a young woman
Who loved to play.
She'd play in the morning-
She'd play at noon-
But her lust burned most
By the light of the moon.
Then late one night,
As she lay in bed,
Dildo at rest-
Her lust fully fed-
There came a whisper
From unknown depths,
That roused her from sleep,
And caused her to dress.
She slipped from the castle,
Silent as stone,
Down to the valley,
Where the Wild Ones roam.
There she was greeted
By a spectacular sight
Recharging her lust
And changing her life.
Eight men and women
In states of undress,
Were touching and kissing
And laughing in jest!
Here, thought she,
Was a sight to behold;
The story of stories,
If ever it were told!
And here, I must say,
Her sorrows begin-
For she threw off her clothes
And waded on in.
The trap was sprung,
The curse was set-
Now the young woman
Will see no rest;
Doomed every night
By her ultimate sin,
To a Managua Tau
That knows no end.
So be wary, my friends,
When the night is deep,
And lust, from your bed,
Compels you to creep-
For the Wild Ones wait,
In their passionate throes,
To sate your lust
And begin your woes!
By Gwynn
Can you count the times I stood by you
Despite the hell you put me through...
The promises made
were the bricks I laid
For the life I built with you.
But now I stand alone with a heart of stone
On this cold, hard slab of ash and bones...
That's the price I paid
For the love you gave
And this hell you made my home.
I shared my warmth but you gave me ice
Destroyed my soul and told me lies...
But I paid the dues
To see it through
Until you opened up my eyes.
Now you can keep this pain you left as mine,
Yeah, the bitter tears, the cruel goodbyes...
It rests on you,
Enjoy the view,
I hope it eats you up inside.
You thought to chain me, to break my will...
To beat me down, but it's no big deal
Cause this game you played of cat and mouse
It's over now, I call you out.
I've had enough, I call your bluff,
I'm gonna show you how it feels.
Cause it's your turn now to pay the price,
Buckle up baby, it's a bumpy ride.
But that's the debt you owe
For the love you stole
And the hell you made my life.
By Gwynn
Two people meet and friendship blooms.
Through good and ill they hold onto
The knowledge that, come someday soon,
Lasting friendship will see them through.
Then dawns a day, much down the road,
When what they share begins to grow.
A spoken word, all un-be-knownst,
Sets them down a different road.
The questions then of "What to do?"
Through the night their minds pursue;
Dare they test fate, see what ensues?
Or stick with what they always knew?
With hungry hearts they yearn to try...
To spread their wings and touch the sky...
But cautious souls refuse to fly,
Leaving their hearts to weep and pine.
So, struggles start and distance grows...
But somewhere lost amid the woes,
Friendship holds to what it knows
And lends a chance for love to grow.
With opened hearts they reach again,
And something special soon begins.
Souls unite and, with hope, intend
To see this love through till the end.
Now pass the years, as they always do,
Where they learn their lessons, pay their dues...
With joy and pain and days of few...
To give them pause and make them blue.
But through it all they still stand strong,
Their hearts convinced that they belong.
The hardships to their souls a song,
That whisper sweetly of love lifelong.
So where two have stood there now is one,
United by pain, by life, by love.
Vows are made to the Lord above
To let no man sunder what He's begun.
Cherishing what these vows impart,
Through good and ill, a life they chart,
Building their love till death does part
The bond they share both mind and heart.
Two people met and love they shared...
Raising a family through all dispairs...
Living their lives with faith and care...
Building memories beyond compare.
For just by chance a friendship bloomed
And through rocky times they held onto
The knowledge that, come one day soon,
Lasting love would guide them through.
By Gwynn
I had a dream that you were here,
bathed in morning light-
your loving eyes upon my face;
your breath a gentle sigh.
With whispered words and sweet caress,
you reminded me again,
of why I loved you O' so much
and the joy it brought within.
I watched your face, so full of life,
dimple as you smiled;
The dancing laughter in your eyes,
so beautiful and wild.
I lay my head upon your chest
and lost within your arms,
I cherished all the memories-
your warmth and boyish charms.
I prayed the moment never end-
trapped in times' embrace-
where hope and love and family,
its passage can't erase.
How long we lay, I can't recall,
though eyes soon drifted closed...
and mingled breath, like moments spent,
soothed us as we dozed.
But now the dream has ended, and
with the coming of the light,
your eyes no longer see my face-
your breath no longer sighs.
Your dimpled smile, so full of life,
now stole by times' embrace-
can't woo me with its boyish charm
nor bathe me in its grace.
Those cherished arms, so warm and safe,
that held me O' so close-
now memories of moments spent
where peacefully I'd doze.
Your whispered words I cannot hear
to remind me once again,
of how we'd laugh and love and dream,
to the innocence within.
| Author Notes | I actually wrote this to go in the "write about this" contest but, upon re-reading the rules, I realized I could not enter it as it had to be a story... no poetry allowed :-( So, instead, I share it with you and hope the image comes to mind. G.D.R |
By Gwynn
You can play the game (as you so claim)
And blur fantasy with reality,
by distorting the line that runs so fine,
losing all sense of your morality.
You can count the cost of an hour toss
with a babe who claims she's wet,
or find a beauty with a singles mingle
on the world wide internet.
It's where flesh and blood and warmth and love
simply have no place
for the mouse is your lover, the computer the other;
the screen your lovers face.
And what once was real has no appeal
though you're now too blind to see-
consumed by the other your real life lover
simply ceases to be.
By Gwynn
In summer fields of grassy hills
Where flowers bloom and sparrows trill
And heaven's touched by sunny leaves-
I lay beneath a cloud of dreams.
A whisper's heard from distant nook
Of sighing reeds and bustling brook-
Of cricket song and birds on wing
As gentle wind their stories bring.
The sweet caress of perfumed scent
Brings days of joy and laughter spent
When, as a child, I often played
Till dusky sky and sun would fade.
The rustled song of leafy trees
Lulls my heart with laughing pleas
To close my eyes, to join the dream,
Safe beneath their bowered leaves.
So closing eyes now full of sleep,
I pray the clouds my dreams to keep
Of grassy hills in summer fields
Where flowers bloom and sparrows trill.
| Author Notes |
BOWERED
noun: a framework that supports climbing plants verb: enclose in a bower NOOK noun: a sheltered and secluded place |
By Gwynn
| Author Note: | Strange words were used in this poem but for those who don't know their meanings: below |
Sitting there upon your throne,
Underbreath you speak your woe,
Building walls I'll never scale-
Living life behind their veil.
In time you'll find you're all alone,
My love, My life, My bitter stone- So,
End this torment, laugh and live,
Imbibe this faith, this hope I give.
Need me! See me! My love, I plead-
Denounce these walls, no more to grieve!
Illude your mind, suspend the lies,
Feckless burdens fain deny, to
Forget this temple you made a home-
Encased in blood and mired in bone.
Repent this concision, this cruel plight that
Etches us both in shadows of light.
Need me! See me! My love, I plead-
Cease your indifference, come to me.
End my torment and be not stone
Sitting there upon your throne.
| Author Notes |
Imbibe: verb: receive into the mind and retain
Illude: to trick Feckless: adjective: ineffectual Fain: adverb: in a willing manner Concision: schism; separation; division |
By Gwynn
| Author Note: | This was a challenge posed to myself... see below for details! |
Yesterday's gone-
Though I know not where it went-
Leaving bitter sweet memories
Of hope and laughter spent;
A rhythm of passion and cruel loss
That slowly bleeds my soul,
And pounds in time with broken heart
To coldly take their toll.
These figments of the mind-
Like dead petals on the wind-
Whirl and twirl like smoke and fire
To a song that never ends.
Choked up by these shattered dreams,
I build a heart of stone-
As soft and passionate they rise
To caress me with their woe.
| Author Notes |
The poem had to contain these lines incorporated in a cohesive manner and could be no longer than 20 lines:
Cloud of dreams - laughter spent - Soft and passionate - smoke and fire - choked up - bitter sweet - figments of the mind - petals on the wind - rhythm of passion - heart of stone - shattered dreams - and yesterday's gone. Sooooo.... now you understand the history of this poem. :-D |
By Gwynn
| Author Note: | Yet again I posed this challenge to myself... see below for details! |
The piano plays a symphony of lies
painting sweet sunlight with endless night-
Singing old stories that tell me no truths
of the dawn of betrayal and broken youth.
And, sweetly bitter, the fruits of life
Offer me hopes too soon denied,
As the time of day is dreamed away
Shackled and tied by its desperate sway.
The symphony plays through endless night
Singing its stories and telling its lies-
Betraying my heart, my hopes and dreams,
And all the while it cruelly pleas:
Dance with me- Sing with me-
Come to me- Join with me-
Fly with me- lie with me-
Always off key; tunelessly breaking my soul.
| Author Notes |
The poem had to contain these lines incorporated in a cohesive manner and could be no longer than 20 lines:
Symphony of Lies - Old Stories - Sweet Sunlight - Endless Night - The Piano - Sing With Me - Dance with me - Tell Me No Truths - Sweetly Bitter - Time of Day - Fruit(s) of Life - The Dawn of Betrayal |
By Gwynn
echoed whispers sigh
as misty streams fall like rain
dancing through the leaves
By Gwynn
Thorny vines of rose
rising petal soft with love
sharing joys and woes.
| Author Notes | I need to know if I'm doing this right as I'd like to enter the Haiku contest. Please, don't be cruel in your review. But if I'm not doing it right, explain how and why and what I need to do better. Thank you!!! |
By Gwynn
She walks upon rivers of rainbowed tears
and touches the bitter cold of a frozen heart-
She sees through souless eyes and caresses
the fragmented walls of battered and broken hope-
She cries at the void of grief, infinite and dark,
that consumes what once was known and understood-
She whisperes to ears that once trusted all
but now remain deaf to her tearful pleas-
She rips at the webs of shame that bind, confine,
making a prisoner of the wandering lost-
She is the child within who seeks to be free
while she drowns in the sea of fears and loss.
She yearns to dry the rivers
and defrost her bitter heart-
To see through joyful eyes
and fan the flames of hope-
She yearns to seal the void of grief
and remember what was known-
To hear and know the truth of words
once so kindly spoke-
She yearns to break the webs of shame;
escape her prison and fly-
To meld the child she is within
to the woman she has now become.
The child within can never fly
nor dream her dreams of hope,
until the day she heals herself
and truly becomes whole
| Author Notes | This is NOT supposed to rhyme nor is it really supposed to flow in any conventional sense - it is simply what needed said. |
By Gwynn
Here we used to sit and talk
and dream of things to come,
soul to soul and heart to heart,
we basked beneath the sun.
Ahhh, those days when time was young
and innocence held sway,
when laughter rang across the glen
and in my arms you'd lay.
I remember how your eyes would dance
when I said I loved you so,
and the gentle sway of auburn hair
when the wind would softly blow.
As time went by we said I do
beneath these golden leaves...
but I grew old and so did you
our youth a passing breeze.
Now I sit 'neath this shadowed tree
before the tombstone where you sleep-
there your name is carved in stone a
monument I carefully keep.
But I pray, my dear, you'll wait for me
as my times not far behind,
we can meet beneath this willow tree
our hearts and souls entwined.
By Gwynn
shadows softly fall
as gold and crimson entwine
bathing marbled sky
By Gwynn
| Author Note: | speak the words slowly, gently, like a sigh |
A moment--
A breath... a sigh... of whispered words
Shhh, listen... feel it... this sweet caress-
Now, close your eyes and taste its kiss.
I give to you...
A moment--
A song... a smile... in feathered dreams
Watch it... unfold it... share the bliss-
Imbibe this melody it sings.
I give to you...
A moment--
A breath-- a sigh of whispered words-
A song-- a smile on feathered dreams.
Now, close your eyes and taste their kiss
and imbibe the melody they sing.
Shhh, listen; feel their sweet caress-
Unfold them and share their bliss...
As I give to you a moment--
a memory forgotten...missed.
By Gwynn
Thoughts seem to whirl and twirl-
a fog within my mind,
screaming to become more,
but I struggle to find
the words--the rhyme.
Putting pen to paper,
I sort between the thoughts;
one will bring me closer-
an image to be caught
to see--to plot.
The picture breathes in life,
when inspiration comes-
through humble words and phrase
I show what it becomes
the core--the sum.
By Gwynn
Do I write so you can read?
Perhaps I do, but I concede;
I write to free emotions-
To ponder different notions-
To re-live things forgotten-
To dream of things I oughtn't.
I write to clear my mind-
To save the things I find-
To reach beyond the stars-
To heal some bitter scars.
I write to share my thoughts-
To live in moments caught-
To cradle and console-
To free a weary soul.
Do I write so you can read?
I guess I do... but more for me :-D
By Gwynn
Skipping - singing - beaming
with hand shoved deep in pocket-
My son comes in, with a grin,
to have a bite to eat.
Eating - squirming - turning
he fidgets on his seat-
Passing a while, with a smile,
he asks me to come see.
Grinning - laughing - peeking
his sandwich now forgot-
With a squeal, he soon reveals,
a treasure from his pocket.
Smiling - hoping - showing
froggy gives a croak-
Stepping back, I give a gasp,
as froggy jumps away.
Flopping - hopping - leaping
across the table top-
Homing in, we both rush in,
to catch him in mid-leap.
Winning - keeping - scolding
froggy safe in hand-
With a pout, my son goes out,
to set his treasure free.
By Gwynn
Grassy Knowles of green
warmed by the unyielding sun
yearn for cooler days
until
leaves of red and gold
softly flutter on the wind
feathers of winter
that bring
crystallized wonders
to beautifully frost the world
and breathe in new life
then comes
beauty unsurpassed
yielding dreams of flowered hills till
summer comes again
| Author Notes | These are four different haiku blended together to complete the circle of seasons. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it. |
By Gwynn
You live your life in a house of glass
where no one can get in-
But you can watch your life
rushing past...
You're afraid to step out the door
and into the light-
For fear that the world
might see your tears.
But your house of glass has got a crack
and it runs right through your heart...
A stone or two and then you'll see
how easily, it falls apart.
You've got to make a choice,
you've got to take a stand
you've got to step into the light...
You've got to dry your tears
and spread your wings and then you'll see-
That you can fly...
High above the sorrows,
High above the fears,
High above this prison that
has held you here for years...
'Cause this house of glass has got a crack
and it runs right through your heart-
A stone or two and then you'll see
how easily, it falls apart.
By Gwynn
Higgeldy, piggeldy, wiggledy, ROMP!
Three little witches who live in the swamp-
cheeringly, leeringly, stir in their pot,
lotions and potions and other such rot.
Piggeldy, wiggeldy, higgeldy, POP!
The brewing half done, they suddenly stop-
prancing and dancing they chantingly send,
for sweet little morsels they can stir in.
Wiggeldy, higgeldy, piggeldy, STOMP!
Leering and peering they wait in the swamp-
but don't you give heed, just stay in your bed,
'lest you become their dinner instead!
By Gwynn
One little boy, two little boys,
three little boys, FOUR!
Acting like monkeys
they rush through the door.
There's games in the background-
the T.V.'s too loud-
they're running and screaming-
Oh Lord, help me out!
The house is a wreck,
with toys all around-
I take it all in,
wearing a frown.
One little boy, two little boys,
three little boys, FOUR!
I'd pull out my hair
but my head would be sore
I turn off the T.V.
and take all the games-
I chase them all out
so I can keep sane.
I stare at the mess,
not wanting to clean-
but no one'll do it,
it has to be me.
One little boy, two little boys,
three little boys, FOUR!
Brushing their teeth as
I watch from the door.
I tuck them all in,
safe for the night-
give them a kiss
and turn out the light.
Then, with a sigh,
I sit on the couch-
I prop up my feet,
and promptly pass out.
By Gwynn
What lies in the heart of another?
We don't really know- and yet,
we always presume we do.
Do we know what they're feeling?
We tend to say we do but, in truth,
we haven't walked in their shoes.
Why is it we think it's our decision
when others come seeking advice?
Is that supposed to be our call?
And what makes us think we know-
that we understand everything,
when we really know nothing at all?
By Gwynn
O' my son,
how much you've grown!
I remember
holding you in my arms,
comforting you,
and watching as you smiled.
Then years rushed past-
now, I see a young man
and I wonder
what your future holds...
Will you blossom
through the trials ahead?
Will you become
what you've always dreamed of?
I hold the hope
that you will rise above me.
Just don't forget,
no matter what may come-
I'll be here,
always, to comfort you...
to listen...
to support and hold you...
and above all,
to give you my love.
| Author Notes | How quickly they grow! Yesterdays of youth- memories we hold and cherish. |
By Gwynn
Sweeping clouds of gray
across the night sky wander
cloaking diamond eyes
and bathing lonely lovers
with a symphony of tears.
And the cold wind sighs-
whispering through barren trees-
speaking no comfort
as it caresses the soul
with bitter indifference.
O' Weep! Weep I say
as the storm rages within
and thunders without
in a steady cacophony
of love, loss, and hollow doubts.
By Gwynn
In the darkness we await the light of joy, laughter, love... of life.
We await the truth of all... what was, what is and what will be.
We await the release of fear... of shame, of guilt ... of strife.
We await the vindication of loss... lost innocence, lost hope... lost dreams.
And we clutch so desperately to our vain attempts to understand-
Holding foolishly to the naivety of our youth and purpose-
While the world slips away... away... beyond the reach of our hands,
And our "purpose" becomes nothing more than a prison to bind us.
It is folly beyond endurance to cling so blindly to such purpose.
To believe that there must be purpose in all we see or do-
And that said purpose will be magically revealed to us
If we just cling tighter, waiting- always waiting- for the cue.
But I say to you that purpose is no more than what we make it.
All is not revealed magically - it must be discovered by being,
By living, by learning and creating - it happens bit by bit
As we stumble upon the road of life, seeing, really seeing,
Where others have walked before us, stood before us-
And coming to the realization that purpose is not a mandate
Laid down by those before that must be blindly followed-
But a path to show the way - to light the darkness-
And reveal the truth:
Life does not come with a purpose for every breath or deed...
It is we who become the purpose for those who walk behind.
| Author Notes | People claim through life that no matter what happens there was a reason... a purpose for the action or deed. They hope that, in time, the purpose will be reveled and so they wait... and they fret... and they hope. But all deeds do not have a purpose. All evils do not have a purpose. All sadness, broken dreams, fears and regrets do not have a true purpose. Purpose is what we come to have and eventually come to share with those who follow behind. It is this purpose, this meaning, that makes life worth living. If we forever sit in the darkness brooding upon the reason or purpose for an action, we fail to see the purpose life has given us. |
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