Sunday
Oct042009

Fall Poetry: Shebuah Burke, Raul Loera and Carmen Lisbeth Reymar

Shebuah Burke

HOW DO I COMFORT THEE?

  

How do I comfort thee,

My friend?

And what mortal help can one be

To thy immortal soul

When words fall lifeless

From my lips

And silence speaks the more.

 

How do I comfort thee,

My friend?

Across the barren landscape

I yearn to ease the pain,

But nothing can replace

The love

That thou hast lost.

 

How do I comfort thee,

My friend?

For I, as thou, have loved and lost

Though not one such as thine.

And spent many a day

Pursuing that touch

That gaze

That laughter

Which eluded restless tread

 

Across the narrow halls

The open meadows

The sea swept cliffs

And willows bare

In search of one

Whom I had lost

 

But awoke only

To the lonesome sound

Of my own breathing

Silent tears

And emptiness so deep

That surely death

Would be more kind

 

How do I comfort thee,

My friend?

For only God

And Father Time

Can lighten thy burden

For spirits sake

 

And carry, as we pray

Our loved ones lost

In gentle hands,

Until we meet again

 

 

 

Raul Loera

 

Things left unsaid

Why do I have to think of you?
Is it because I felt so much for you
Or is it because I try and hide the truth

But I guess its plain to see
I still think of you and me
So many things left unsaid
So many false messages read
Everything ended up in the red
Only our lusts were fed

But in reality I still had a thing
I never thought about it but now I’m locked in a ring
You had so many things to bring
But all I wanted was an easy thing

I’ve messed up and can’t change the past
Especially after things went wrong it went so fast
It changed with so much confusion
There never was a solution

But I look back and feel it deep inside
So much that it’s hard to hide
But it was all a lie
And I was never able to cry

But it’s been so long
It’s been a while
You’re still inside of me
You held so tight you never really set me free   
And I know we’ll never talk again
Lost more than a friend

 

 

Raul  Loera


It Doesn’t Matter

It doesn’t really matter how things get
Sometimes people tend to forget
And sometimes you have to take the blame
Put it all under your name
Just have to play the game

People become two faced
Friendships get misplaced
You wanna call me the bad one
Just because I’ve been a bad gun
Know how to run

People place it all on me
Just so they can feel free
It’s who I am, how I was made
There’s been times when I strayed
There’s been times when I played 
But every time I always paid

But this is who I am
I’m just one man
If you don’t like me I don’t give a damn

I’m not here to be your friend
And my actions I don’t defend
Like a ghost I just blend
It’ll be like this until the end
These are things that at times I cannot even comprehend

If this is my destiny and my fate
Then let it be
And if in the end it’s only me
At least I died being free

 

Carmen Lizbeth Reymar

Mindless hate

Aren’t we all just people with common goals
and common souls?
Have I forgotten to pay your toll?
Is there a reason why you care
While you’re pullin' out your hair?
My shinin’ really sinks your boat,
When all I wanna do is float.

My actions tend to skip your beat,
Why you sweatin' from my heat?
Just let me go but be discreet.

When you’re judging all my actions
I wonder why you’re really askin'.
You’re insecure about your life,
But what’s that got to do with mine?
I don’t care that you’re a bore,
I’m just building my rapport.

I hope you take this message
and learn this tiny lesson.
I’m not shootin' for perfection
just a life without discretion.


The good I wish for you is timeless

Even though your
             
hate

is mindless.

 

Reader Comments (2)

have people forgot
that the truly magnificent poetry
does not result in rhyme everyline,
for when it does - the drab anticipation drags
from syllable to syllable
from simple soul to simple mind.
but what matters more-
then the regergitated allure
of someones heartfelt lives
traped in the restriction
of a grim and thin vocab.

October 8, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterWriter g

Writer G,

Don’t be so jealous. Not everyone can be a great poet or writer. Perhaps you should try a new hobby like knitting or sewing; or even saving the world. Yes I know the styles but if you do not like it then don’t read it fool. You should name yourself “Ranting G”.

December 28, 2009 | Unregistered CommenterYo Mama

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