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Mixed FeelingsI don't know why I miss you so;
Why the feelings are so intense.
Nor why it feels like continental distances
When you're really, just over the fence.
It feels like you've left me behind
Halfway around the world
With a troubled heart
And a mind - lost, in turbulent swirls.
I fear never understanding your pain -
Or worse; that you would think the same
And cast me aside like a wilted flower
Forgotten, on old window pane.
I cannot profess to know your feelings,
Nor whether your heart still has room for me -
Regardless, every second spent apart from you
Is another second wrung in deep agony.
It seems as if we've swapped places;
You, no longer mourner, distressed,
and I, no longer the comforter - now prisoner -
By anxieties, compressed.
Corporate MeteorologyMore erratic than El Niño;
More temperate than typhoons;
More destructive than volcanoes;
More drenching than monsoons;
More catastrophic than floods
And forest fires — combined;
More frightening than earthquakes
Along tectonic fault lines.
Arrows like tsunamis;
A serial destroyer
Of esteem and morale;
An insatiable appetite—
No reason, no warning—
Until its anger reaches full height.
And then the storm vanishes
As quickly as it came;
Leaving in its wake, nothing,
But the dead and the maimed.
When all we have left is your smile...
To Jon, who's left us; may you be at rest in His arms.
Our first thought of you
Is that unforgettable smile
Your words of encouragement
And life without guile.
Your commitment to change lives
Your passion to sing
Your generosity to others
Your devotion to Him
The days we had to know you
Were little and few
Regretfully, I only knew you best
Standing in funeral pew
You taught us not to take life for granted;
How it could be cut short -
And to treasure all those around us
- Just as we ought.
You taught us to take
Every opportunity we had to meet
To truly pour into each other’s lives;
And share the bitter and the sweet.
Many hearts have been broken
And many tears shed -
You were such an inspiration
In the life that you shared.
So as we lay
Your body to rest
We remember the smile
Of one who loved best.
These words of departureThese words of departure--
Half unwilling words of goodbye--
Also wish you the best of what’s out there
And success in all you try.
Your bold demeanor, laughter
And courage to persevere
Have inspired and won me over
In this last year.
You see, I’ll miss you
-- and sorely! -- my dear
Because you were my sunshine
When things felt deary here.
May you keep on doing good
Wherever you go.
And I hope, once in a while,
You’ll remember these days of old.
Behind Those Eyes (Poem)Dark brown, or grey?
Too murky to tell
In artificial habitats
Devoid of ocean swell
Listless and grieved
Their eyes told it all
Though they said not a word
From behind that glass wall
Gone were the open spaces
Where calves used to play
From spirited enclaves
Were they spirited away
Cramped in stagnant water
Without active stimuli
Wasting away for the entertainment
Of gawkers passing by
Of their silent suffering
Enervated and languorous
In endless circles, swimming
Blue Ballet: Dance of the Sea Fairies (Poem)Spotlights trained
Of deep blue sage
A dainty dip
A graceful twirl
Amidst deep water’s
The sea fairies’ dance
An audience entranced
Time slows down
An Eternity's lone shard
The JourneyI travelled down hot asphalt roads
Amused by sights I did not see:
Fragrant flowers and chirping birds
Cheerful laughter chiming with glee.
In many contraptions were people trapped;
In varying cages were they kept:
Enclosed, imprisoned, jailed - un-free;
Helmed in by thoughts, worries, and anxiety;
Anguished by life's uncertainty;
Prisoners of mind, of purse, of geography;
Confined behind locks without a key.
And yet escape could still be found;
From fetters and chains was I unbound -
Raised up and lifted from death's mound
By Hope and Love of great renown.
Enriched by blessings I did not deserve
With an abundance of love without reserve;
A drop of heaven on this parched Earth;
An immaculate gift of infinite worth:
Love, Joy, and Peace,
Kindness, and Faith,
Patience and Goodness,
Long-suffering, and Grace,
With bright countenance
And cheerful face
Came my hero - my savior -
The one true Lord
Whom all with renewed hearts adored.
Kisses planted in a generous clusterKisses planted in a generous cluster
With all the sweetness love could muster
Decked in Hope's brilliant gem-like luster
Cheeks blushing a ruby fluster
Oh my love, my spell-caster!
If only time could pass a little faster
To the day our beloved pastor
Will declare us mistress and master;
The day we stand before the altar
To pledge a love that will not falter
Making vows that'll never alter
Come flaming hell, or raging high water.
So here I am, upon my bed
With but a pillow for my head
To travel through dream's cascade -
A 'goodnight' I must, to you, bade.
Let it out - let it goThere are times one needs to vent;
But please, in those moments, don't invent.
Do it well, and say what's meant;
Ensure that every bullet's spent.
Then leave it there - don't revise
(Sayeth the council of the wise)
Don't let it spread like a rash of hives
Avoiding that saves many lives.
Let it out - let it go
Don't take it back & keep it till you grow old.
AntaresLook what puerile parts you play
In ripping down the sky.
Look at what can be unmade
When we steal the right to live and die.
I hope you hear the screaming
Carried on the psychic wind
Heralding your purpose as null and void,
And no one ever wants
To spit your name again.
But the spirit world can see into your dreams
And thinly sever your fortunes there.
Shamans are about your door
Shaking dry bone rattles that call the shades
Of those hearts you couldn't win.
Antares has deserted you, friend, I hold it in my hand,
A bright marble to see through all your guilt and shame.
Come forward Eastern/Western comrade,
You know I'll meet you here,
And we shall see whose will is strong,
We shall find the heart of fear.
The weak think terror is powerful
The wise see your own weak soul is mirrored there,
And so know how to find you,
From the inside of your nightmares.
--J. Shidler 2012-07-22
Corporations.They say I need help…
I laugh and reply
It is them who need it.
At least I’m not the one
Sucking people’s salaries dry.
warWhat a hard world for the dreamer.
What a joke that makes might think it's right.
There is no war with honour
While our cannon fire pulls down the walls,
Where babies slept and mothers smiled,
And everybody dies.
There is no peace with honour
While our carrion flies crawl over walls,
Buzzing on bodies behind the lines,
Hiding from the truth of light,
Waiting to push buttons
That end so many lives.
If you can't look me in my eyes
Before I'm made to die,
And address me with your own dignity,
And be sure there's no surprise,
Then you have no respite here on Earth,
And nowhere in the sky.
No god tells us we must kill;
That's all a twisted lie
The faint of will use, with petulance,
When they've simply lost their minds.
And who respects a "leader"
Who uses violence instead of taking time
To entreat a matter fully,
Surrounding those who thwart,
Compressing them into hateful diamonds
To give to murder's bride?
We cannot assuage our consciences,
By shifting the burden across the board
Of an enm
Government Press ConferenceI am sure
That somewhere in that lineup
Behind the Prime Minister's head
Someone, for a second, went blind
Seeing in that space behind their eyes
(It will never get out)
Green leaves in shadow, in sun,
Or a minnow's silver flash in some slate-peppered lake
The blue sky thickening into evening at the horizon
Water to their ankles
And they promised themselves
(And everyone else)
That they would send that peace to all corners...
Worth Nothingyou're so lovely
you're the best
you're so lonely
and they fail to realize that
like all of these qualities
that you have
are worth nothing
When you can't (a poem)If poetry makes me happy
and you can't
If poetry mesmerizes me
and you can't
If poetry makes me feel loved
and you can't
If poetry entertains me
and you can't
If poetry makes me smile
and you can't
If poetry enchants me
and you can't
If poetry lifts me up to my dreams
and you can't
If poetry warms up my heart
and you can't...
...then, poetry can be the true lover
when you can't!
No ContextOnly when I'm about to die do I feel most alive
Suicide is for the weak, leave that thought be
And I shall die on my own terms
With the rush of life flowing deep within me
Schools PenitentiarySchool the jail for the children of absolute
This penitentiary locking us in forcing false images
Of success into our young minds
This THING they call school
Is only used to destroy the young’s creativity
The generations of old are scared
Scared of the change that might and will come
Our generation will rise and fight back
Our future will not be determined
By a letter for our grade saying
Whether we pass or fail in society
This change will bring a revolution
A generation in which we don’t discriminate
People for color or sex preference
This world will be reawakened
Creativity will rule this world once again
School won’t be a place of hell
But a haven for knowledge
But for now this world will burn away
Slowly we watch our mother die
Education is taught under false pretense
Of those who say school is education
But for those fools who think
They can stop change and creativity
I say to you
Burn, Burn away
HTF X Gaza_The Warning Of Despair
It was rain at here,
I saw a couple were happily,
Under an umbella,
I wonder how,
Why this feeling not same,
Your place were rain,
With radioactive bombs,
The raindrops were missels,
That ruined your place,
Toke all the victims life,
Without any mercy.
That cruel betrayals,
Gave the rainy warning sheets,
To force you,
Go away from your hometown.
The world is unfair for us,
The different ranks bully us,
No one cares about our suffer.
We still have God to safe us,
He'll give the disaster to that betrayal!
What of me?From a seed I did grow
But what fruits have I to show?
Hanging off me are but withered leaves
And dying flowers hanging like empty sheaths.
Where are my thorns that had protected me?
Or my gardeners that had promised to tend me?
My bark is falling
My branches bent
My trunk is hollow
My canopy rent.
What does it matter, what they had said
When at the end of the day, their words are dead?
The pleasant words they spoke, the vows they made
Now exist nowhere but in my head.
They helped some flowers, pulled out a few weeds
But did they really do 'good deeds'?
The garden has perished
Only death remains
Nothing but decay
Is found along the lanes.
Who can save us now?
Can we be saved? And how?
From who can Hope be drawn?
Can we cease being forlorn?
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