In the End, the Faithful were rewarded,
But there were just a few.
In the End, most screamed with terror,
As the guilty always do.
In the End, there was a final vote,
And we thought consensus ruled,
But in the End, the voting over,
We discovered we were fooled.

In the End, we ran for shelter,
There was none there to be found;
All the Faithful had secured it;
For they were Heaven-bound.
As the flames lept all around us,
We begged forgiveness from our Lord
In a Hell of our own makng,
With riches saved we can’t afford.

For the riches we were chasing,
Stole the goodness from our soul.
All the gold and all the silver
Melted into worthless coal,
And I stood and watched with sadness
Knowing I had had my chance
As the flames lept all around me,
Hell’s eternal damning dance.
PwL  3/19/16

Don’t fall in love with a poet.
By Jude Kyrie

I look into your trusting beautiful eyes.
You are so lovely so gentle and loving.
I wonder if you know yet
you will leave me.
For you are playing
with a tinder box.
And I am a gallon of gasoline.
The fire is inevitable.
You will find out there
A man who is gentle
with a loving heart
He will see only
the beauty in you.
You will have become
tired of my poetry
The emotional roller coaster
I choose to live on.
Weary of the poets afflictions
for red wine and infidelity.
You will fall into his bed
and he will welcome you.
Into his much stronger arms
than mine can ever be.
I shall return
to writing love poems
Poems that are
real to my heart
But to a woman
that cannot ever exist.
I shall frequent
the slam bars of the city.
And sleep with
the women who think its
Romantic to bed a poet.
Yet never ask
my last name.
So strike your tinder box.
Create a spark.
Save yourself
as I ignite into
flames before you.

I am a liar
I told her I loved her
so as not to start a fire
but now that she's heard it
I must say it again
if I said "I love you" 7 times
I have lied 7 times
I don't even know how many lies I've told
even though the context of every one is the same:
I love you
this made a new truth in me
a truth I tell myself as often as I tell her a lie:
I hate myself
now that feels much better
the twisted honesty of it restores me
so that I look for a reason to say it again
I love you
I am a liar
I hate myself

I can feel that, Stop it
Stop thinking about me so that I can stop thinking about you.

You could speak sentences
Through your cracked lips,
That would make my heart
Miss a beat,or skip a beat,
I can not even tell.

--Jamie F. Nugent

She said:

“I really wish things were different
I’m so tired of living like this
Too many things wrong in the world
All of them in the way of my bliss.

If only things were better
If only things were fair
Then I could find my happiness
And finally lose my despair.

Won’t someone take charge?
Won’t someone help me out?
You’d think someone would be willing
But someone keeps letting me down.

I said:

“Go stand in front of a mirror,
Look closely at what you see,
I’d like to introduce you to
The someone you’ve been waiting to meet.

Someone who can do all that you asked
And then a little more
Change is something that you do,
Not something you wait for.”