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 Jul 2014 Nomad
Eddie Starr
What is true Hope, it is knowing that you are truly Loved.
For what is life ,if no one cares about you, no reason to live.
Life is worthless, if no one is there to say I love you.
For to live a life without love is like not living at all.
But there is at least two people that care about you.
Jesus Christ and I , Jesus loves you so very much.
He wants you to spend eternity with him in heaven.
So know this in your heart that you are truly loved.
Remember this your life does matter to others too.
 Jul 2014 Nomad
thrcy
Won't let go.
 Jul 2014 Nomad
thrcy
I keep writing about you
A lot of people say that my poetry is amazing and I have no idea why they say that
And I think it's because they're all about you, because you're ******* wonderful
But what you don't know and what they have no idea is that
I stare at the ceiling for hours
And my hands can't seem to move
Leaving my pen untouched and just having a blank page
Filled with no words about you or about love
Because all I feel is frustration and disappointment
Maybe I write these things but it actually doesn't come close to how I'm really feeling
But if actions could be expressed into words
I would write about how I should have hugged you for hours and convinced you to stay
How your favourite song just came up the radio, reminding me the first you made me listen to it
I would write about me standing outside the rain near the bus stop, thinking and replaying all the things you said to me, as I hide my tears from the rain
Then I realized I never had you
We were never official
I would write about the burning fire from my heart as it start to burn because of how much I miss you
and how the burning flakes have reached my brain at 3 in the morning thinking about how I miss your voice and how I crave your presence
And then I remember being up so late was only that much fun when you were still around, with our deep talks & late phone calls
I wish every ******* day that you were still here
And I don't know how to end this writing because there is no poetic way to say and describe how I feel so empty and that I just want you back
But what I know is that I'll never let go
Those eyes
Always looking at me in that way
So sweet
So bitter

I can't look away from those eyes
They draw me closer
with only a glance

Those eyes are my weakness
Never have I seen eyes like yours
Small but so strong
Always right
Yet so wrong

Those eyes are my weakness
Those eyes have so much love
Those eyes I love
 Jul 2014 Nomad
cozy april
I have known the taste of salt water,
and the smell of decaying forests,
and the cracks in hundreds of sidewalks,
I have loved the gas petal,
and the airport concourse,
and the ever-changing time zones.
In all of these places,
I've found a home in not having one,
ready to admit,
you'll never catch up.

a.s.
too lovely, my friends
 Jul 2014 Nomad
a m a n d a
denial
 Jul 2014 Nomad
a m a n d a
i need to learn to
let the silence speak
let the actions speak
let your absence speak.
You and I are missing things
set aside, forgotten.
Dust falls heavy on broken shoulders
dislocated by light.
We mourn the loss of something,
though we know not the tangible feeling nor the name of that we lack,
just that it has gone.
We see it in others, a smile placed,
a hand held, a tear dried
and wonder at it's heavenly release,
as we lay chained at Hades gate by our own hated disposition.
I will sing for you a song of death, while blackness seeps from unclean hands.
I pray that you will see in me
all that others fear
and find it glorious.
 Jul 2014 Nomad
Claire
My life was orbiting around someone else's plan
The people who are meant to keep you safe
End up hurting me the most
When angry about something it was always my fault
I was the punching bag
Remembering lying on the hard wood bleeding
Crying to myself
Knowing I would never escape.
Then he came along
He picked me up
Rescuing me from the place I called home
Nurturing me with love
Something I was not used to
Now I'm dependent on you
That scares me the most.
 Jul 2014 Nomad
Jack
Moon Glow Sips
 Jul 2014 Nomad
Jack
Beneath a silent old oak tree
Just counting stars at play the sky
A jug of wine, a loaf of bread
A falling leaf, a firefly

Our blanket placed so soft the ground
On grasses born of springtime cheer
Two hearts a mingle in the night
Alone with you this evening clear

As laughter echoes through the hills
And lips embrace of love’s desire
With passion’s flame a glowing light
When now to see my true desire

Of moon glow sips in tasted find
In silhouette on nature’s dream
To share this beauty ‘fore my eyes
Along a winding flowing stream

For as these dark skies call our names
To come as one beyond the day
I drink of all this love does bring
To in your arms forever stay
I tried.....
 Jul 2014 Nomad
Louise
My Heart
 Jul 2014 Nomad
Louise


I think I'll take my heart
and wrap it up
put it in storage
and wish it luck

It needs to stay dormant
and on it's own for a while
the type of love it's receiving
is just not its style

I'm really not capable
at this moment in time
to get the love it needs
or release it to fly

It needs to stay put
for some time yet
there's others to think of,
their needs to be met

So I'll carry on writing
about romance and love
keep dreaming about it
and smile and laugh

I'll fetch it down when I'm ready
when I feel it's time
but I'll leave it safe
on that shelf up high

I'll take my heavy heart
and wrap it up tight
let it rest through the day
and get a good sleep at night


Wrote this last year during a bit of a low time.
 Jun 2014 Nomad
Auss
Says Pat to his mother, "It looks strange to see
Brothers fighting in such a queer manner.
But I'll fight till I die, if I never get killed,
For America's bright, starry banner."

The night before battle and all through the camp
the soldiers lay close in their quarters
The were thinking no doubt of their lives ones at home
Mothers, wives, children, and daughters

There was a blade in the east
who sat all alone, singing a song so gaily
Twas honest Pat Murphy of the irish brigade
Singing o shattered shillelagh

Unto the bugles call, did poor Patty wake
To give the rebel satisfaction
The Devils drummer beat a tune
That called the boys to action

The Day after battle the dead lied in heaps
Pat Murphy lay bleeding and gory
Caught in the gut by an enemies ball
It ended his passion for glory

And all around camp,  not a sound to be heard
No song of the land of shillelagh
His letters unread, from the family of dear Patrick Murphy

And far in the east say a dashing young blade
Who went by Pat Murphy
Singing a song of old Irelands cause
The song of the shattered shillelagh
War ballad of Ireland and the Civil War
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