Skip navigation

Category Archives: Poetry

I let my guard down today
Started thinking how things should be, (could be, outta be)
How did we ever let it get this way?

Damn the history…
This isn’t how we should’ve left things.

September sixteen, moon shining down
Caroline June, healthy and 7 pounds
I can’t believe she’s already arrived
I keep finding myself feeling ultimately deprived.

8 years we had, always so close
Just withered away and
to each other a ghost.

I couldn’t help but to think of our future.

“Wow, your baby girl is now 6 years old,
You even have a son, and 1 more to go!”
“It was good seeing you,” I last said.
As you wheeled your things away just nodding your head.

This isn’t what 8 years deserves.
How did we let it come to these terms?

Damn the history…
Damn the pain…
I walked away crying all over again.

I let my guard down today.

Advertisements

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Look into my eyes
Tell me what you see…
Is it everything that you hoped it would be?

I’m everything everyone warned you about
the girl opposed — contrary of your dreams.

I’m no poster girl.
What about me?
Look into my eyes
Tell me what you see…

Look at me,
Do you see what I see?
I’m just a girl,
living in this cruel, harsh world.

Small town truth,
small town lies,
Despite the one you never recognize.

Look at me,
See what I see?
I’m just a girl,
living in this cruel, cruel world.

Masking this soul,
kept undone —
I’m breaking outward
Hatred exposed.

Window to my soul,
Scars stitched on my heart —
Every girls secret,
kept hidden in the dark.

Blind sighted by pain,
the weakest of all steel,
I’m not machinery,
my feelings are quite real.

Look at me,
Ya see what I see?
I’m just a girl,
Existing —
This cruel, harsh world.

It’s the relationship between mother and child
when they’re in the hospital.
It’s what we wake up for each morning
and shows the true meaning why we’re alive.
It’s inside the cancer patient waiting
for the doctor to tell her she’s in remission.
It’s what held a nation together
while terrorism stuck.
It’s in the nine-year old girl
who just lost her grandmother.

It live in each and every one of us;
surviving everyday life.
It’s the applauding that comes
from your parents when your name is called on graduation day.
It’s in the way we speak towards one another.

It’s the work that you do everyday
to try and get by and make ends meet,
To go home to lives that love and trust in you,
to see what God has given you, that makes you trust in HIM.
It’s the reason we wake every morning,
to journey through the maze of life;
— it’s in this room as we speak

Time

By: Rebekah Wigley

Time is a murderer

And a healer;

It’s another year

Costing us a millennium.

It is life,

But mostly it is death;

It is the beginning

And the end.

Time: Ever passing

Everlasting

Evermore

Time is the past,

It is our predecessor;

— Ever passing —

It gave birth to the present,

We’re standing within it;

— Everlasting —

It holds promise for the future,

It’s where our dreams have life;

— Evermore —

Time: Ever passing

Everlasting

Evermore

It is the Alpha,

And the Omega;

For it is God.

Every line of a face,

Is time beautifully sketched.

It is many things;

Time –

But above all;

It is all things.

To whom it concerns,

Darlene’s work will be late

It fell on her pancakes and stuck to her plate.

To whom it concerns, my ma made me write this

And I’m just her kid, so how could I fight this.

To whom it concerns, I lost my assignment

Maybe I’ll get lucky,

solitary confinement.

—–

To whom it concerns,

Darlene’s great with the ball

But guys don’t watch tomboys when they’re cruising the hall.

To whom it concerns,

I just turned thirteen

Too short to be quarterback,

too plain to be queen.

—–

To whom it concerns,

I’m not made of steel

When I get blindsided my pain is quite real.

I don’t mean to squawk,

but it really burns.

I just thought I’d mention it,

to whom it concerns…

—–

I never thought I would take a
show like Roseanne to have much meaning rather than just a comedy type
show but there are some episodes in there that can hit your gut like a
ten pound hammer. Last night I couldn’t sleep after having a rather
serious conversation with a great person. I flipped on Roseanne and
this episode came on. The name of it was called “Brain Dead Poet’s
Society.” Darlene was forced to write an assignment for class on
something that made her happy or brought her to a happy place. She was
going to procrastinate and do it after the basketball that was on t.v.
Roseanne set her foot down and said that it had to be done before the
game. Upstairs Darlene was doing everything but writing this poem when
Roseanne came up to put away their clothes when she went rubbaging
through her old high school things when she presented Darlene with her
old journal full of several types of writings, mainly poetry. Darlene
being the careless one said you just saved me, she was going to copy
one of hers. Several days later one of Roseanne friends come over and
spill the news that Darlene’s poem was picked to be read at a showcase
type thing, Darlene insists on not going. After a whole run around and
very sensitive moments were revealed with her mom, she went and read it
anyway.

Darlene’s poem that was showcased
on the show hit close to home with me. I do write my own poetry but
nothing this original or something purely genius as this is. The part
about guys not looking at a tomboy walkin’ down the hall, and the
feelings not made of steel and it hurts when you’re blindsighted; it’s
just purely genius.

Just thougth I’d share something that made me cry last night;

Because after all my feelings aren’t made of steel.

Your smile is my hope;
— Representing my will —
Your voice is my rock;
— Completing the void you fill —
Your future is my assurance;
— Telling me not to give up —
Your light is my beacon;
— Guiding my every step —
You’re my hope,
my rock, assurance, and beacon,
You’re irresistable; My product, the keeper.
Your smile,
Your voice, future, and light,
You’re smart, My product; Overall, My life.

As time goes on,
we draw near,
conquering things,
that sometimes brings
us to tears.

That’s what life’s all about,
adolescent fears,
wiping
away the tears,
and loving the ones we hold dear.

*The richest people
are not a prisoner to money,
–They’re prisoners to love.*
It’s not what
you take from this world when you die,
It’s what you leave
behind.

Human’s natural ability are to succeed and prosper,
Never
allowing room for failure,
Waking each day is succeedment,
What you get
out of it is a personal achievement.
–Prospered, Prospering, Will
Prosper

SUCCEED…

For the one that went to bed earlier and didn’t get the annoucement that it was
on my myspace…aka Abby

Spreadin’ The Lunatic Love
By:
Rebekah Wigley

Lunatics till death do us part,
It’s like a
robber who stole all our hearts.
Nothing else better,
Nothing else
greater
Its so small
Yet nothing will shatter
This bond that to
some
Dont even matter.

Fans by choice,
Sisters by fate,
It’s
something so small
that only God can create.

First the parkin’
lot,
then the nacho fight
Whats next,
Diana’s resting spot?

A
knife and a basketball,
In walgreens stands the aisles so tall.
Galbladder
malfunctions,
In the hospital for somethin’
Blow-drying armpits,
The
Big Pink Ball,
And The Nerf Gun a kit,
What’s left,
Dixie and Rosie
attacking your shit?

First off there is no “e” in cheesy,
It’s like
Kathy yelling, “TAKE IT EASY!”
Oh why does Bethany have to be so
sleezy?
Its mastering the art of being Teasy.

Paige is the next Aflac
Voice-over,
Is Diana’s house the next we hover,
to spread Toilet paper all
over?
Operation Overload is the game,
For Lunatics is our name.

“We
some crazy ass mothafuckas,”
What’s up with Paige saying,
Ha Ha,
sucka!!!???
You’re 19 acting so silly,
C’mon, I mean really.

“Lord
I apologize,”
For it’s the Lunatics,
The object of our “highs,”
For
it’s Fanny we all despise.

For the internet’s so great,
It makes you
appreciate
that you can look up and call
The greatest of them
all.

The lucky number will always be 26,
As for prank
calling,
That’s our Friday night fix.
For us the jokes live on,
in this
timeless ending rhyme.

Fans by choice,
Sisters by fate,
It’s
something so small
that only God can create.

Lunatics till death do us
part,
It’s like a robber who stole all our hearts.
Nothing else
better,
Nothing else greater
Its so small
Yet nothing will
shatter
This bond that to some
Dont even matter.

It was my cousin’s innocence of youth that saved me tonight,
as I made my way through life,
It wasn’t until today that I, as a person can say,
That the truth is hard to convey.

Do yall want to go to church is the question I asked,
One of my cousins answered,
and the other two just passed.

It was the willingness of the Lord she wanted to learn,
but as for me,
It was the Lord that I needed to yearn.

The innocence of youth is often misused or misled,
but it’s what cleared the thoughts,
The ones in my head.

So thanks Tiff for making me whole,
it’s your innocence that fills my soul.