Poetry Site

Bleed Me (Poem)

Written for my wife Courtney Bleed me, let me tell you what I mean, I mean take all that you need from me, freely My strength, my Love, To my last heartbeat Let me be, the person on which you lean Through the beauty & the pain Sunshine or the rain When this world is sweet as honey, or when it gets dark & mean

Pray (Poem)

There are times when it's hard to know which way to pray but I know that it's ok & I'm still holding on to faith I know that the Father knows our hearts Even if we may not always know just what to say

Sodom & Gomorrah (Poem)

So many are so lawless, like they do not care at all It seems like many these days Are deaf to their conscience call Remember Sodom & Gomorrah Those ancient lands of sin If we are wise we'll take a lesson From what happened to them By:J.N.R Dutton

Gypsy (The Music Man): Poetry

Seems like he's spent most of his life on the highway He's part poet, part modern day gypsy He was born to roam he couldn't even tell you the last time he was home He's got people that love him, people that miss him It's not always easy, sometimes it's straight up lonely but every night he hits the stage playing his songs it sends a thrill through him when he hears people sing along In his life he's traveled thousands of miles If his music really touches a soul once in a while that to him is what makes it all worthwhile By: J.N.R Dutton

An unfinished poem that was written too soon

I watch their hands as i wait for you Long fingers, short fingers, broad nails and rounded tips  Blunt Just like yours  Their eyes, blue and green and brown  Brown but not like yours,  Not like dark honey and rich mahogany  Not like moonshine, sunshine and sin And empty beer bottles Sharp cuts, scratches and sterile teeth Wet tongues Strong hands Calloused and warm Cold as teak Left in the dark Left alone Skin to skin Pin pricks, goosebumps, dilated Cognac and amber  And broken beer bottles

[I SHALL ALWAYS FEAR]

I was never good enough it seems, Always judged and never understood, Even when the light within started to dim, I wonder which part of society did I stood. I hear and I fear, The words to me so simple yet hurtful, I tried my best to make myself seemed dear, Yet I was never enough to make you think I’m beautiful. I tried and I cried, Against a nonexistent shoulder, I’ve cried and I’ve died, Against the cold ground to me that felt warm. Atolophobia, No longer part of a physical form, Its spiritual started to develop a paranoia, And no longer shall I cry, as a fake smile on my face forever permanent.

Life: The Lie

You know that scene in Harry Potter when he’s making breakfast for the Dursley’s? That’s pretty much how my life feels. My friends, family, anyone and everyone I meet just want so much, and I try to give it to them but it’s never good enough. I’d blow up Aunt Marge too. How can someone ever be rude? What sours in a person to make them like that? It baffles me. Life is such a shame some days. Idk.

Miscarriage

3-22-2019 In my mother's embrace, While yet unseen, I began living. Before I could ask for it, I was given moments. Minutes. Caress. Care. In my mother's arms, I was loved long before I could yearn for it. Before I could cry out for it, I was lent my breath. My movements. My heartbeat. My smile. But while yet unseen, I began leaving My parents' grasp, so loving. While yet unheard I felt my breath fading. I am being called, being reclaimed. Before my race started, I have been called away, out of a world and its crooked ways. And to my Master blessed, who lent me this life and breath, I now yield and say, "Yes." I have been given, And now I am being taken away. In my life's short span I've...

Death

I stand in silent anticipation as an old friend drives up my door. He has come for yet another visit-- I swear he drops by more often than before. He has never yet arrived quite unannounced, but he'd always give a very short notice. Yet perhaps no heads up is advance enough for someone's visit such as his. There are always more things to be done, more preparations to look after; And every time that he leaves, there are countless details I wish I did better. So with every goodbye he utters every time he steps out of my place, I would make amends on my planner so as to receive him next time with more grace. It's been eight months since Death first knocked at my door, since I first...

From A Tree To A Seat No One Uses

Love Sleeps

You are asleep, and that is fine. You do not sleep enough. I wish I could have you at all hours of the day. Alas, knowing that you dream; sometimes of me, is too beautiful to wish not.