You've done it again JD.

What? I didn't do nuffin.

My dream
My plan
My man
My way
My little boy was born today

Okay, by popular request, an original poem written during a dark time inspired by deep heartache over a lost love;


May 20, 1991

If only one wish in my life would come true,
It would be that I wish I had never met you.
You had stolen my heart and then ran away,
And the pain that I live with is here to stay.

You can't be replaced although I have tried,
And I can't remember all the times I have cried.
I love you still like you are still here,
But some of the memories are no longer clear.

Yet nothing we had is completely forgotten,
And there was never a reason that we faught on.
But you felt you must leave and that you did,
Somewhere in the lies, the truth you had hid.

So if we had never met, never been together
And if you hadn't had said you'd love me forever
Then I'd be okay, I would do alright
I wouldn't find it so hard to sleep at night

So now you are gone and I wish you well
I may find another, you never can tell.
But if only one wish in my life would come true,
It would be that I wish I had never met you.

WOW, if I was a poet like you JD, I could have written that.

WOW!! I love it JD! You did really good on that! I have so many like that, and just as many about finding what I believed to be love again.

Just out of curiousity, have any of you ever been to the site www.poetry.com? I have about 4 or 5 poems posted on there, and they are the ones that have published 2 or 3 of my poems.

Good work JD, maybe some of the other guys will post some of their heart felt poems.

Thanks guys... not even potentials get a chance at those. They are/were very personal therapy but I have a question TM. Can one make money at this? I mean when you were published, did you get a cheque or something? Coupons at Chapters?

Getting published does sound like a real feather in the hat though. I have a ton of those. No work involved. It's all done already. Maybe I'll check yours out first. All new ground to me.

I'm so happy you all are sharing! What a surprise to find them all after logging in my first time after work.

Therapy...I can see it in the writing JD...I can relate to the words so well. Probably a good idea to not show that one to potentials though I imagine that you could write something new for a potential that they'd appreciate much more.

Keep them coming!

Any more people wanna join in?

ya...too bad we're not sharing an M&M's cake.

(no...you are doomed to hear that forever)

7/21/2004 by Me

When the dust settles down will I still see your face
Will the world around me be that same familiar place
Will the people who I've held dear still know my name
Or will the expression on my face confuse mine with another

When the dust settles down will your arms seem as warm
Will I still find the truth in your charm
Will I find that the world I find myself in today just a fantasy
And the ears that once held my trust will they be lost

When the dust settles down will I still find my way
Will I find a world of color, or a world of gray
Will I have lost everything that I hold dear
Or will I have found the one true friend, lover, and companion that wasn't lost
when the dust settled down

JD - That poem is very well written. Its very sad, however its very easy to relate to.

This one is not happy, and not for everyone...but I have to share what most of my poems are in true form....


Been wanderin round now for years. Tears and pain, joyful laughter -No sense in it all. Keep looking for my wonderland, hoping it will all end so soon. It all tears at my heart, pulls at my veins...playing handyman to everyone else's pain.

Want to end all of this misery, yet I wouldn't deny myself the love affair. So in love with the pain. I can't get enough. Love me then leave me, take all I have...Don't deny me my misery - I couldn't cope. Step on my toes again, sit on my face, deny me my food, forbid me your love. Hurt me then leave me I CAN'T GET ENOUGH!

They say I seek pleasure, I only take pain. And I do it and do it again and again. Fill me with potions and your idle words, for they seem to be what I need - what I want. I CAN'T GET ENOUGH. I will caress it, love it, feed on this pain, over and over and over again. cause I can't get enough...

Those are really good, B!

In answer to your question, JD, I didn't get paid for them. I had been writing for therapy for years, just like you. Somehow, and I don't remember the circumstances, my mom found out I wrote and told me I should enter this contest that she had been told about. I did, and ended up published. I write poetry to be able to get out feelings that won't let me sleep until the words are out in some form. I love to write. It seems to be easier to write poetry that just comes to me rather than a book based on events that happened instead of feelings I have. I would love to have a book published, but not all my poems are for the general population.

Hey,

I don't this thread to stop...lol...Blindsky gave us something kind of a tough to follow, however

I'll give it a try though...another dark topic...it's about an event that happened the Summer before I got married...it was after I found out that I was going to be a daddy...I was working 40+ hours a week in a window shop and 30+ hours a week as a pool manager...I had a day off and a friend came over (with his also pregnant gf)...anyway:


Rescue Breathing

I feel his pulse. I can not hear him breathe.
If I'm to save his life, I must act soon.
Our choices; they control what we receive.

I finger sweep as if I could retrieve
the gas he sucked out of the dead balloon.
I feel his pulse. I can not hear him breathe.

The health class tales I'd found hard to believe
until he capsized in my sister's room.
Our choices; they control what we receive.

His frantic girlfriend cries and can't conceive
her unborn's daddy's death that afternoon.
I feel his pulse. I can not hear him breathe.

My mouth on his, I force his chest to heave.
I'm sure that the next breath will break his swoon.
Our choices; they control what we receive.

These self made problems it is time to leave,
for in one month I'm to become a groom.
I feel his pulse. I now can hear him breathe.
My choices; they can change what I receive.