joe2poetry

Poetry from a Dublin Scientist

Category: poems

Neither Sticks nor Stones

Sticks and stones may break my bones
But words they too may hurt me
Sticks’ loud crack can smart you ears
But words leaves silence deeply

Stones bring bruises blue and black
Words bring but a tear
But bruises soon fade from the fore
While words keep deepest fear

Sticks and stones will ache my bones
When I bathe they drift away
But words can cut into my heart
And down in there they’ll stay

Sticks and stones can kill outright
As the body curls to break
Yet words may work a slower pace
And move your soul to take

Neither sticks nor stones can truly hurt
The strength that lies inside
But words can niggle at its core
Find it where it may hide

Sticks and stones may break my bones
But words do greater still
The first may break my body
The next my soul will kill

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Fugees Killing me Softly

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Written for Grammar Ghoul Press’ mutant 750 challenge # 36.

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For Poetry Day

Sway me with verse
With rhymes and words
With raw passion
With the strength of emotion

Use the almighty pen
Sealing thoughts in jet-black ink
Safe from memory’s vagrancies
Free to roam around the world

Use voice
Bring the words to life
Syllables in machine gun rapidity
Explosions of verbiage

Bring me poetry
Wondrous, magnificent poetry
Every which way you can
Show me what words can do

Breath

In out, in out
Fill lungs with the good
Release the bad
Send it out into the aether
To the vastness of the world outside
Where it can disperse
Fade into nothingness
So the soul
Malleable beyond words
Infinitely Changeable
Adaptable
Can once again soar
Be everything it can be

https://youtu.be/csOXRW9dvrQ

Written for Grammar Ghoul Challenge number 27

Could’ve

He could’ve had a father
The guy was a descent sort
Would have been kind
But sometimes romance does not kick off
And his old man had walked out the door
Long before he first kicked in the womb

He could’ve been a rocket scientist
He was bright, all the teachers could see it
His mind burned bright behind the eyes
But school was for idiots
You can make a fortune sitting on a street
With a swig of the bottle to take away the cold

He could’ve been a daddy
It would have turned his life around
To see a part of himself looking back at him
But the bottle’s siren song
Was stronger than the pull of the heart
And love’s promise died on the vine

He could’ve lived
He could have thrived
He could have made his mark in the world
But the poison had rotted his mind
Making him numb to cold’s harsh dagger
In a doorway the world would not see

Stories in these Walls

Walk with me
Through these hallowed halls
Filled with history
Ghosts of men long gone
Filled with tales of forbidden love
Of the great torment of genius
Of culture’s great clash
Come with me my friend
Let me be your guide
As I tell you tales
The stories in these walls

Distant

You are distant now
Past forests and seas
Past clouds and the mountains that pierce them
Across the very world

Our separation is vast
Almost beyond comprehension
The width of the world between us
Keeping you from my arms

But I weep not
Because though the world keeps us apart
With a barrier of distance
We are still together

Together in our minds
Together in our hearts
And not even the distance of the world
Can keep my love from you

Winter Sun

It feels like a lie

A horrific deceit

Warming yellow light in the window

But when one leaves

Goes out into that same sun

One finds only cold

A chill, brought on the wind

Jacket, coat, scarf

All required, no exceptions

But still one see the brightness of the sun

Feels its warmth on skin

Warmth quickly lost to the wind

Stolen in its ephemeral clutches

Leaving no choice

No matter who gloriously bright it is

To wrap up warm

And return to the warmth of hearth and home

Serpent: A Pleiades

Snake hunting in the grass
Slivery glint in its eye
Scales of metallic black
Slipping past jagged blades
Sticking out its forked tongue
Sensing when it is close
Set to strike at its prey

Boycott

Who are we?
Mere huddled masses
Bereft of power
Unseen by law
And the cruel march of nations
Except as fodder
For their own self-centred needs
Anonymous save for a number
Simply for administrative purposes

Consent, democratic traditions
Passed over by the bogeymen
Of legal force and the ‘Greater Good’
What that means never quite clear
A hard deal for many
Bonanzas for a few
All in the name of ‘fairness’
Not sure of that one either

But power often forgets
That its strength comes from acceptance
Either freely given or coerced
It is still essential
Without it power fails, law becomes useless
Unenforceable

There may be sacrifices down this route
Deprivations and incarcerations
Possibly blood and tears
But with enough voices
Calling the name of the reviled captain
Victory can be ours

Proposal

Star-laced ring hidden in his pocket
Butterflies in his stomach
Words, like ghosts passing in his mind
What words to choose?
So much seemingly riding on this
A life, a future
Endless possibilities
Split into black and white dichotomy
All riding, everything hinging on
Whether she says “yes”