Shout it out! Scream it through!
Were it not for one sole survivor, I would not be here. Often what lead to the holocaust is oversimplified. In my own ancestry are those who caused, suffered and fought the holocaust. The wholesale labeling of any one group is a reflection of the very causes of the horrific times taht repeat themselves from Cambodia to Tibet, Stalin Russia to Nazi Germany. The loss of the individual to the group.
Not a step towards her, as she screamed in anguish.
May I learn each every moment; / Give thanks, make full its portent. / Let each moment be divinely spent / Blessings to which my time is lent.
Contemplation on redemming the time in your life
Blah blah blah déjà vu and comment reviews….add something juicy.
Blah blah blah angst anguished poet writers..let me count the waves or just take one pill to make you smaller….how many times can you write about déjà vu…you are born you live a awhile then you die…and then there is the weepy poet writers…never mind. Oh oh and artist waxing about their art they should make candles.
They say time / heals all wounds, / But it seems / scars never fade / / Innocence of youth / is torn away / When a child sees things / they nev…
Sam set his invention to send him to 1895, a time when his enemy would be vulnerable.
This is for the Star Twister challenge for the prompt “Retaliation”
Written in 2005. This was at the start of my depression. Not very fun. / You’ll see more of this in my other poetry. Anguish © Katie Walker
I close my eyes, / And count to ten, / And pray it’s all a dream…
Wahono’win (grief and anguish) / Smell the incense of the Balsam, / Hear the words the Great Spirit speaks. / Time for mourning comes and pa…
FEATURED IN: Spirit of the Native American The ice storm began on January 7th, 1998, late in the evening. By the time it finally ended it had destroyed hundreds of thousands of trees all over the state of Maine. Canada was also hit very hard and people were without power and water for many days and even weeks for some. But the tremendous loss to the forest will take / years to restore. But Mother Earth has the power within her to do just that. This is a poem I wrote following the storm. It was published in several papers in New England and Canada.
They control, so I must go along – / Made to dance on the knife to their song – / Yet, without tears! ‘cause they have no clue!
A poem that looks at what it’s like to be me, as a person that suffers from bipolar disorder. Even though I wrote this specifically for me, I know there are others out there who can relate… and only in death shall we be free!
Damage done, great loss / Entities so close but still so far / A family of strangers, a family at war
In life we all go through our trials and tribulations / Its all a matter of how and if we come out the other side Featured ! Creative Writing & Poetry ! – 3rd July 2009
Together from birth, / And forever thick as thieves, / We had nothing to fear, / When we stood side by side, / Brothers and best friends, / We…
About two brothers I know. Sorry it’s long. Featured in Young Enthusiasts
Where Is My Flower? Tonight the torment continues to be / A dark heavy shadow cast over me / No forgiveness is accepted / All reasoning h…
We all have our good and bad days, no matter who we are or how much we have. In this poem a motthers heart is striken from the grief of her child’s explosive temper. Saying harsh words that should never be spoken. Sometimes we just have to be silent and allow time to take over for a while. Nancy
No one can even begin to fathom the grief of a mothers’ loss / No one will scrape the surface of her grief in their attempts regardless of…
Nothing is quite as dear and sweet as the flesh of your flesh. The loss is just as devastating. Can you remember how soft and sweet your child’s newborn flesh felt, and for those who have not, a niece or a nephew’s? Those are unforgettable moments to be treasured forever. The flesh you felt so precious and soft, maturing slowly with age is the same as when you first touched him or her. Cherish your opportunities; don’t deny you or your children of good memories from the past. Nancy
wishing , was a fools game i played too often / hoping, was a rope that hung me dry / wanting and needing / are a past no longer required
words spill from my mind and can be diverse in meaning and depth emotion and timing is all too critical
The head fuck demons have the control…
I never thought I would find myself here / My light suffocated by the swallowing dark / Pain clinging to my eyelashes in salty droplets
Have you ever unwittingly become a skeleton in someone’s closet?
I tried to focus my lens on the drops of dew so apparently clear on the autumn leave. It was spectacularly define through my lens no than…
A short story about a photographer who almost gives up on his passion. Then he sees a girl on a rainy day through the lens of his camera. He thinks she is pretty but little does he know just how pretty she is.
This heart could beat for you, torn into shreds yet it has drawn strength from its anguish and aches of life still hoping I cant stop its…
Did you ever wish someone to know your hearts desires completely?. / Then you realise that no one ever can and it brings you to your knees, you feel you just have to write it all down, that is where this piece is derived.
Fire licks, / And lightning whips, / Dissolution rises, / And macabre quips.
This poem is part one of a trilogy of poems that inspired my drawing “Diabolus Est Mei Amor (Death is my love)”. The story about a human woman stolen and romanced by a devil’s black heart. Paramour is from her point of view.
In longing for love / Hold close your fragility / Braving all the change / You will hurt to understand / Never expect anything It all lo…
seventeen
they crawl into your jugular / and wrap around your larynx / squeezing it / a boa constrictor
words can kill
don’t tell me you don’t hate me / don’t tell me a mother can never hate her child / that it is an impossible feat / for there is only uncond…
written from a place of despair and anguish at something i unintentionally caused. lost her a friend probably. lost me a mother. well not really of course. but it’s strained. and it hurts. im sorry.
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