Random Poetry. I Don't Know If It's Good or Not. Opinions Needed.

Bathroom

He took his knife from on his belt and thought,
"My life is really not too good at all."
He thought of all the things that he was taught
His life was pointless, all he had would fall.
And in the bed, he kissed his wife goodbye
With knife in hand, he ventured to the lou
While sitting on the floor, he let a sigh
And cut his wrist, his breaths became but few.
But now he thought, "I do not want to die!"
His cries for help were silenced by the door
He thrashed around and then began to cry
Too late, his heart, it was to beat no more.
His body lie in pools of his own life.
At last, for now, he ended his own strife.

Jigsaw

A beautiful image,
Everything fitting so nicely.
A small hole in the middle,
Where a piece is meant to fit.
Searching.
Looking for this small, significant piece
And found in the most unexpected of places.
Just before it slides into place,
The table moves (something of my own fault)
And the jigsaw,
Nearly completed,
Clatters to the floor.
Now, to begin all over.
Searching.

I Love This Man

Watching him rest,
I stand over the bed.
His peaceful expression,
His soft, cold lips.
Never have I felt such love.
Nor will I ever.
With a brief smile,
I pull the sheets up
Over my mistake I do not regret.
The white sheets turn red,
His body turns pale.

Fulfilled

The night so lonely calls to me
And brings me gently out to sea
It says to me, "You come with haste,"
And water, now, is all I taste.

Woman, So Beautiful.

Her beauty filled my every thought
To make her mine, I would think not
I told her "come," her love I sought
I watched her pick the roses.

I asked her daily, "come to me,"
I stood and watched, so I could see
Her beauty grew, it made me weak
But still she picked the roses.

At last, I tried to call her name
Her stunning beauty was to blame
My mouth was open, no words came
She sat and picked the roses.

Then I leaned down to kiss her head
She turned to look, and to my dread
She stabbed my throat, and I was dead
She stayed and picked the roses.

Innocence

"Daddy, what happened?" the little girl cried
As daddy looked into her deep, green eyes
He said, "mommy's dead," and tried not to smile
Trickling blood had dripped on the tiles
In his hand held the knife that committed this deed
This horrible sight, this act of greed
"Go away!" daddy shouted, and shoved her away
He scrubbed at his hands, but the stains still stayed
He heard the girl sob, and ignored all the noise
As he pulled on her body, he shoved away toys
With axe in his hand, he finished the job
And inside the house, the little girl sobbed

A Poem. Figure It Out.

A Louder Silence

The moon is out
The streets are bare
And all is still, without a care

The sky, unlit
The moon is out
But still, the night, it cries and shouts

Quiet night, without a sound
But in my head, and aching pound

A blackened sky
The stars above
A silence sits, but not for long-
An aching pain, and it grows strong

Alone I sit
But free to roam
But in my head, where I call "home"
Unsettling thoughts, they eb and flow
And all this silence seems to go

A gentle breeze, the sighing trees
But in the darkness, no one sees
All the chaos that may ensue
Inside my brain, these thoughts are true

The creatures rest
The sun's asleep
But still, these thoughts, they are so deep

Alone, I try, to fall asleep
But in my brain, a gentle weep

The cooling wind
It soothes my soul
And try, I must, but pain unfolds

Silence exists outside, but here:
Inside, the silence, is a fear.

Holy Water.

The old Me has died. I have been replenished, renewed. My soul has been given to a better cause than drugs and self-hatred. I have found peace within myself. And all of this has happened because of the powerful force of God.

"Would you like to meet Jesus?" asked Duke, a tall, gentle man with a wicked beard. All eyes were on me, as I sat in the "hot chair," anticipating. Waiting. Hoping. This was one of the last questions I expected to ever hear in my life. I have always been apprehensive when it came to religion, and in particular, Christianity. I could hear the echoes of my mothers voice, It's corrupt! It's a hoax! They're all ignorant. And don't even get me started on the Bible! Maybe my mother was right. Or perhaps her mental instability had gotten the worst of her.

I decided to give it a try. I had never doubted the fact that Jesus ever existed, I just had doubts that he was a Holy man. "Yes." Duke's face lit up, as he knelt beside me and put his hands around my head. "Repeat after me," he whispered. For the life of me I cannot remember what it was exactly he said to me, but I repeated every word of it. And, for some reason I am still not fully able to explain, my body began to shake. My legs twitched, my body shivered, my arms shook. More people put their hands on me, on my back, on my shoulders. Their touch made me shake even more. A deep, sinking, tight feeling appeared in my chest, over my heart. One by one, they all prayed from deep within their souls, their love coming through to me. A strong, intense rush of euphoria swept over my body.

They bowed their heads and closed their eyes, pushing harder onto my body; the shaking became uncontrollable. "Deeper, Lord. Deeper," I heard Duke say. Mary began to speak in tongues, and everyone else whispered prayers softly, barely audible. Out of nowhere, I began to feel very sad. Oh, God. I was so sad. I was filled with so much sadness, so much melancholy. My chest was tight, my eyes started to water, my nose was dripping with snot. I was thrown off when Duke let out a loud chuckle, but I understood why when I started sob. I cried, and my body shook harder, harder, harder. Squinting my eyes, tears ran down my cheeks. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop crying. They prayed louder, and I felt sadder and sadder. I had never felt such strong sadness in my entire life. Something divine was touching me. I could feel it.

"Barbs, falling off the spears of the enemy. That's what I saw." Micah told the group of the image that appeared in his head. "That's exactly what I saw!" yelled Duke. He let out a joyful laugh. Everybody nodded in agreement. This was, without a doubt, the work of the Holy Spirit. I stopped crying, but the sadness was still there, getting deeper and deeper. It felt like my soul was falling out of my body. I began to think. I thought of all the horrible things I had done, all the people I had hurt. My drug abuse, my promiscuity, my unfaithfulness, my daughter, my abusive ex boyfriends, my mother. The moment my mother came into my head, Duke called his wife over to put her hand on me. Her soft touch comforted me as she stroked my arm. Duke held my hand, and while my eyes were closed, somebody crawled on the floor and placed a bundle of tissues into my hand.

A scary, powerful hate towards my mother began to rise up in me. I clenched my jaw, grinding my teeth until a piercing pain shot through my face. I felt Mary's soft, cool hand being placed in mine. "I'm gonna pretend to be your mother here for a second, okay?" I nodded, still shaking horribly. "Okay. I know I've fell short when it came to being a parent. I haven't always been there to protect you, I haven't always been there when you needed me. I know I haven't always showed my love to you. But right now, I am asking for your forgiveness. Can you forgive me, Alyssa?" Without hesitation, I said "Yes." A sigh of relief fell over everybody that was touching me. My chest loosened, and I began to cry more. The sadness was still there.

One by one, they lifted their hands off of me. With every hand removed, some sadness was alleviated from my heart. Once they were all off, my whole body became weak. I couldn't speak; I couldn't move. Ecstasy poured over my soul, my brain, my body, my consciousness. I stopped shaking. "This, Alyssa, is the work of the Holy Spirit," said Duke, softly. Ha! I already knew that, but it was still nice to be reassured. "Now... you need to get baptized, young lady."

Oh.

About that. I never publicly proclaimed that I would be a Christian. I only accepted Jesus into my heart. I wasn't committing my life to a religion I knew nothing about! But wait a second. It doesn't have to be religious. It can be symbolic. Yeah! That's what it would be for me. A sign that the old Me is dying, and I am being reborn as a "new creation," as Duke called it.

The following day, at 4:00 in the afternoon, all 13 of us drove out to Irene Rhinehart park to dunk me in water. A flurry of snow filled the hair. The wind was howling. The water was the same temperature as ice. But I was certain; I was determined. I would be baptized today. It was probably the shortest baptism in the history of the world, but it was still meaningful to me and everyone else that attended. Mary and I stood at the shore of the water, both wearing shorts and water sandals. She told everyone what we were there for, and we proceeded to descend into the water. Every step I took prompted me to let out a yelp and a scream. I feared that my legs would turn into popsicles.

Mary stood perpendicular to me, holding my hand, and asked me if I was ready. Before I could reply, I was leaned backwards quickly, my head submerged under the stinging, cold water. As I emerged, I let out a gasp. Out of startle, out of speechlessness. Panting, Mary and I rushed back to the shore as fast as the water would let us. When I stepped foot on the sand, Toby was prepared with a blanket. He draped it over my shoulders, and I dried my hair off with a towel. Toby leaned close to me, and whispered in my ear, "I am so proud of you." At that moment, I forgave myself. I'm uncertain what prompted me to do so, but an enormous burden was lifted off of my heart. I couldn't stop smiling. All the horrible things I had ever done had perished from my soul. I was a new person.

As I sat in the car, I thought of the people that had influenced my decision to accept God into my life. Duke, Mary, Toby... all of them. All these people did was give their love to me. Their compassion. Their trust in Jesus. Thank you, God. Thank you.

This Came to Me at Church.

God.
Please give me the strength to persevere in the face of adversity. Give me the ability to forgive myself. Give me love, give me hope. Give me the strength to move forward. Make me spiritually receptive. Help me be more attuned to the voice of God. Help me restore my emotions, my trust, and my love back to its original state. Help me be victorious in whatever hardship is thrown at me. Help me open my heart to happiness. Help me be tenacious and persistent. Help expose me to the truth in this life. Help me have better, stronger relationships with those I love, and those I want to love more. Help me, please, detach myself from all the pain and hurt and suffering in my life. All the pain and horror I have caused in others; may it be relieved. Help to make things right again. Help bring joy into my life. Help me open to love. Please, Lord, help me gain back trust. Help others trust me again. Help them see that I am changing; I can be trustworthy. I need their help; I need your help. Help me recover; I am sick. Help me improve my life. Help me to help myself. Free me from this chaos. Help relieve this heavy burden in my heart. I need your love; I need your security. Help me be powerful. Help me conquer all of my fears. Help rid me of my sorrow and my unnecessary habits. Help me feel what it means to be human again. Enlighten me. Bring me knowledge. Help me sort out my thoughts and my emotions. Help me feel real again. Help me see the way to live and feel. Help me see if this is the way things were meant to be. Relieve my anxiety. Help me sort things out. Help me organize my life. Let me submit myself to you. Eliminate my thoughts of doubt. Help to liberate my spirit and my soul. Help me to be grateful for who I am. Help me to forget about the past. Move on. Help me to be loyal to myself. Help me to be alive.

America Knows Best.

The United States of America has existed for less than 300 years. Compared to other countries around the globe, i.e. the UK, Scotland, Russia, China, etc., America is a fucking baby. We don't have the extensive history that many other countries over seas do, when it comes to war, foreign relations, war, and stuff like that. Yet, America seems to think that we know best when it comes to all that stuff. We shove our face in other people's businesses and expect our solution to have the best outcome, and that our method is the most effective. Why should we know best?