Listed here is an array of different poems that I have written throughout the years, in addition to a couple of quotes. One is untitled, maybe you as the reader can help me come up with a title. Enjoy!!
Heavens
“God of my heavens, God of the sea, what is it you have for me?” I ponder with this question, with no answer in sight, I wonder, “Is it worth the fight?” It is hard to see, that the earth can be, one with me. I fight to the left, I fight to the right, I come out screaming, kicking, and full of dynamite. Finally I see him, not far ahead and I say, “Lord, what will you do with me — today?” He looks me over in such dismay, he says, “My dear child, why do you stray?” “Lord,” I say, “I must know are you really here with me, or am I alone?” In disarray he answers my question, “My child, you already know the answer to your question. Stay strong and have faith in me, I am everything that you will ever need.” (Written Nov. 2009)
Beauty
I see beauty when I enter, a place I want to venture, with love in my heart, determination to be there, I miss everything about you this seems to be my issue, inside of me is where you grew, understand my time is due, I want to feel what it is to live in you. So many people that pass me by, I know inside of my heart is where you lie, the lights so bright, there I will be alright, I need to bite, a piece of what I never had, it sounds mad, not being there is sad, New York, I need you bad. (Written Jan. 2010)
Untitled
There are mistakes to be made, places to be, things to pick up, and things to see. With each step I have grown stronger, with each passing day I step harder. What’s important in life we must all see, that it is not just us, it is included as we. With each step we must fight harder, to the bitter end no lie we must conquer. It doesn’t matter what we do, or who we are with, what matters is that we see and dismiss. With our hands raised, and our knees bent, who is it we’re trying to present? (Written Jan. 2010)
Quote:
It doesn’t matter of the sin you posses, what matters is that you find him, and he’ll forgive the rest. (Written Feb. 2010)
Cell Phone Thief
It happened in the night, one damp dark day, she came with a swoop, and took it away. Watch out for her she’s in such disarray, but she sure does know how to play. I was wondering what happened and where it went, then I was told the cell phone thief was the one who took it away. I bugged everyone about it, high and low we looked, to no avail it was dis hooked. Gloria said I was a basket case, man I thought she was going to spray me with mace, she told me to stay away from her or I was going to be erased. Oh where, oh where could my cell phone be, Oh where, oh where was the cell phone thief. Then the phone call came and I was told, the cell phone was not sold, only Vicki Crabkiller was on hold. Watch out for Crabkiller, she’ll do it again. In the night, on a dark day, she’ll come with a swoop, and take it away. (Written Sept. 2010)
The Keeper
Night turns to day and day turns to night, what if the ships of above pull her under, down to the deepest level of it so slumber, through the murky rivers, she wonders. Through the darkness she’ll see no other, but the prince of hell to come upon her, the lights from above trickle down to rest on the shoulders of the one who fell down. In this light he has woken, draped in darkness with his robe of wonder, draped in all his darkened majesty, it is him the prince of fatality. The fears have foun her, but there’s no praises pressed from yonder. Her heart skips a beat, and she wonders is this all that will be of her, as the man dressed in sir, comes closer and presses upon her. She stands in awe of the glimpse that she sees, he puts his hands on her, he says, “Worship me.” In the dimmest of her days and the lightest of her nights, her hands are raised up and she asks for ones might, that he may forgive her and be her keeper for the rest of her nights. (Written Feb. 2011)
Quote:
Down the deepest corner and to the right is where I find my strength tonight. (Written Dec. 2012)
I hope you enjoyed reading them as much as I did writing them.
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M.C. Addington 