Category Archives: Poetry

The Night

The need to write welling up,

Spilling over

It’s late, but here I sit

Soaking up the night

Feeling the day slip away

Stress, worries

Melt away

Along with the noise

The hustle and bustle

Of life fades away

Leaving me

Just me

My thoughts and fears

Hopes and dreams

Creativity flows here

And here alone

Poetry, fiction

Stories pour out

Only in the quite of the night

The rest of the house fast asleep

The night, she is mine

And I don’t want to share

The divine

Speaks to me here

My muse

Embedded in the dark

The quiet, the rolling away of Life

Solitude, introspection

My life plays out

For my inspection

Searching my soul,

Questioning

Everything happens

In the stillness of the night

All good things

All my thoughts and prayers

Are buried here

In the deep, dark stillness

Of the night

All the secrets of my Life

Still. Quiet. Night.

The pieces of my Life

 

 

FUCK THESE WORDS

By Christopher Harris, guest contributor.

 

Fuck. These. Words.

Uncooperative, ungrateful things.

Ink wrestled onto a page.

Stubborn things drug kicking and screaming and flailing

        From the abyss of my mind, to be

Thrown violently down on beds of paper.

Thoughts in captivity.

Words held against their will.

Bound up in ropes of what is considered safe….

Words gagged with the duct tape of

Convention, propriety, normalcy.

Fuck these words,

Shivering, trembling shapes that shy away

          From my tender touch.

My children with the audacity to snitch me out

           And accuse me of abuse.

Fuck.

These.

Words.

The Youth of Today

I don’t understand the youth of today,

You say.

How were they raised?

With this sense of entitlement.

To be what they want.

Made up things,

You think.

Gay, Bi, Transgender

Upending social norms, expectations

Not bowing, not bending

What is gender fluid anyway

What does that even mean

You inquire.

Befuddled, confounded, confused.

Consternation, aggravation.

Why can’t they just

Act right

Act like you?

I look and I see that it’s true.

I don’t understand the youth of today

How were they raised?

With this sense of entitlement?

Yes, entitlement

But not like you say.

They are entitled I tell you.

Entitled to their own lives,

Their truth, their beauty

Their freedom.

Yes, freedom.

Freedom from you.

From expectations, condemnations

Judgments and scorn.

By their own values they are bound,

Not by yours.

Yes, I ask as I watch in amazement

How were they raised?

How were they raised to survive

Through the pain,

To dance in the rain.

To be who they are?

What freedom

I admire from afar.

I wish I had come of age

With that strength,

With that fire.

With that courage

To be who you are.

Motherhood Loss

Pain rushes in, like a familiar but unwanted friend.

My heart ripped open, does this awful aching ever end

Why does motherhood strip my soul bare, it hurts so much to care

Protecting your child, an illusion. Can’t rise above this confusion

Agony, despair, drops me as I stumble
Pain, anger, hatred burns me tilI I crumble

A pile of smoking ashes from which I cannot rise

A deep ocean of pain in which all my happiness dies

No one ever told me love was so distressing, no one ever told me life was so depressing

The Fray

The world is full of pain

The world is so unfair

To those who are different

The world doesn’t care

 

Women, minorities

The poor

The downtrodden, the weak

What’s the score

 

Screaming silently it seems

No one seems to hear

Or at least to respond

To the pain and fear

 

Trying in vain to fix it

But others deny it’s broken

How can you fix it

If it’s not broken

 

Frustration, anger

That’s how it Plays out

Then it’s their fault

Not allowed to shout

 

Silently scream

in pain and frustration

Deny the reality

of your station

 

That is what

The world wants

But screw the world

Ignore the taunts

 

Be a warrior, speak out

It’s the only way

to make the world better

wade into the fray

 

 

 

 

 

Epiphany

Stillness. Quiet. Nothing stirs.

This is a memory, sublime;

struggle to see it clearly,

through the swirling mists of time.

 

Standing over a boiling pot

of water, in a trance, caught,

steam rising, water roiling,

with what danger is the past fraught?

 

Gazing back in time and space

In the water you can scry.

Into many other worlds

You now can happily spy.

 

Stuck, standing still, falling in,

crossing the veil, with the sight.

Struggling to understand,

Remember with all your might.

 

What we really are, and why

In a flash, through a rip in time,

you finally catch it, see it

the epiphany you find.

 

Creation makes perfect sense

Your soul begins to rise up,

but in an instant, instead,

you fall, the loss is abrupt.

 

For a split second you saw,

you understood everything.

Then in a flash it was gone,

A memory of nothing.

 

You can’t forget it, ever

But you’ll never have it back.

You know that you once knew it,

You will always feel its lack.

 

 

 

 

Dirty

I have a friend that I trade writing prompts with and I really enjoyed this take on a poem about getting dirty. With permission, I am sharing it with all of you:

 

Jack walked along the country road

Humming along the way

He tripped and fell

And said, “oh hell.”

As he landed

To his dismay

 

In a pile of mud

Filthy mud

Oozing, wet, and sticky

All over his hands

All over his clothes

Now soggy, mired and drippy

 

Jack sighed

Wanted to cry

But got back up instead

And continued down the country road

Squishing the mud as he tread

 

by JN Quigley

Picking at the Past

I have decided that have at least two books of poetry already written. I have been writing for over 30 years after all. I have so much poetry, it just needs to be edited, organized and published. But that means going through it all, and with it, the memories. Which led to the following poem as I basically picked at scabs and poked at scars. Here it is:

Going back to the past

The pains still there

Right where I left it

Gotta unpack it, examine it

Look at it square in the eye

Measure it, claim it

Dig it out, write about it,

Make it my bitch

Everything there’s still the same

That’s why I don’t live there anymore

I’ve moved on,

Healed from it, left it, learned from it

Moved on past it

But still it wants acknowledgement

Hey, it happened, time to own it

My pain helped make me

What I am today

So it’s time to stop hiding,

Feeling ashamed,

Pushing my pain into the dark,

Deep, secret places of my heart

Like a vampire, the light will kill it

Drag it out and let it burn

Show the world what I’ve survived

No more shame, no more pain

Make it work for me

The final step, the final piece

Taking back what it took from me

So it no longer has the power

to make me bleed

 

 

 

 

 

This Feeling

This feeling inside

Can’t be mine

Feeling love, feeling loved

Who knew life could shine

 

Turbulent, tormented, troubled past

Darkness and coldness inside

Filled up my heart

Too much pain to abide

 

Suffering seemed normal

The pain, an old friend

Living in darkness

Seemed to have no end

 

But my heart broken open

Spilled out the pain

The words filled the page

That’s how I stayed sane

 

Anguish was my muse

Filled with disdain

Suicidal, homicidal

Drowning in pain

 

Happiness bubbling up

Was the end of the line

No inspiration to be found

Either earthly or divine

 

That’s what I thought

That’s how I lived

Abandoning my craft

The words now contrived

 

Until this very moment

Floodgates broke open

Creativity survives

My arts not broken

 

The love that I feel

The love that I give

The man that I have

The life that we live

 

The pain still survives

In memories, in other ways

New pain but not from him

New challenges, different days

 

Through it all, he’s been there

A life raft, a hand to hold

Buoying me up, buoying my on

Making my dreams his own

 

A port in the storm

A safe place to land

From the darkness

He offered his hand

 

Trusting him

Completely, totally

With all that I am

Utterly, hopelessly

 

Loving him was easy

Natural as taking a breath

Yes, I do

Until death

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Peace, Peace

We want peace for ourselves and for all peoples of the planet.

For our children and for you.

For the future, for the world, we must have peace.

Politics and rhetoric are stupid, it’s true.

 

Peace please beg the hungry

Peace, peace, cry the dying

We’ll have peace lie the politicians

Peace, peace, whisper the crying