Slit my wrists to lose weight,
To lose life,
Lose pain,
To lose
All I have ever done.
Listen to the church bells,
They are calling your wallet,
They are calling your cash,
They are calling your checks,
They are calling.
Collection plate,
My finical garbage can.
God,
My “garbage man”
Go figure
Go ahead God,
Play poker with my tears,
You have bet everything I once had,
I stand on a street corner
I am consumed in mental illness.
You took my mom as casually as one turns the page of a book.
You stole my dad like the clouds steal the moon.
You gambled my lover as thoughtlessly as inhaling a breath of fresh air.
You grabbed my brother’s health like one summons sleep in a warm comfortable bed.
Go ahead God and trade my life for poker chips.
I miss the things that I took for granted.
I miss that roof guarding my head,
It is now a bridge
I miss playing with my dog.
It is now the rats.
I miss music streaming softly from my head phones.
It is now honking and screams.
I miss the smell of my mom’s home made cookies.
It is now exhaust fumes from the cars.
God you traded my life for poker chips,
Now look at me.
Look at me.
A contest entry
- Desert Nights by angeldreams.
550 points, ended June 28, 10 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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I disagree with the philosophy
of the write. But that's me believing God doesn't "play" with man.
It is a well done write. it flows, gets its point across forcefully and is generally of a decent format. Good work poet. Be well.
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Slit my wrists to lose weight,
To lose life,
Lose pain,
To lose
All I have ever done."
not sure i understand the "slit my wrists to lose weight" part but i really like the beginning of this.
thanks for sharing.
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Glorious...
CERTERLINE: At first I thought that it was a Pattern Poetry.
“PATTERN POETRY: Poetry in which the letters, words, and lines are configured in such a way that the poem's printed appearance on the page forms a recognizable outline related to the subject, thus conveying or extending the meaning of the words. Also referred to as Altar Poems, Carmina Figurata, and Shaped Verse, pattern poems are of ancient origin, dating back as far as the 3rd century BC. In the 16th and 17th centuries they were popularly known as Emblem Poem.” – http://www.poeticbyway.com/gl-b.html
A Poet may express her/his natural emotions, the intergalactical wonders, or serve as an interpreter for what is possible to exist, could have existed or exists around her/his perception.
I am impressed with the uniqueness of this poem. I must congratulate the author of "Lonely Nights" for the courageous heart; incisive wise words, and outstanding poetic Voice.
In respect and admiration,
Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU -
A well written poem.
Though not really what I asked for.
The starting lines both attracted and repelled me though.
I wish you can find some suitable contest for this poem as it's well deserving.
Thanks for sharing.
-Swati
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very nicely written, the beginning threw me off, but very nice.
=] -
first off i was really put off by thew slit my wrists part of the poem. Cutting yourslef is a disorder that needs medical attention and is nioth something to be praised or rewarded. however the rest of you piece was very nice and well done so to that i say kudos
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At least you have a computer with you in your box under the bridge lol. Thank you so much for sharing great work!!!
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Nice piece. Really well written and great use of words. I love when someone can get their pointm across and paint a picture without having to use as many big words as they can because they think that makes it good poetry.
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