Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Feb 2017
Graff1980
She spoke in riddles
You mumbled in tongues
Wore mad man made robes
Learning lines of deceit
Passing trays training social slaves
At least political prisoner know
Why they are locked up
Many of us don’t realized
We are imprisoned
She spoke with poetry
Saw things better than me
Clearer vision of reality
And when she shared these thoughts
You ****** her to death
Burned and buried her alive
Strange that in these barren sand
No monument stands
There are no markers
No mourners at her grave
No eulogy until now
My gift to the woman
My love and sorrow
She spoke the truth
Eyes bold fire so fierce
That you where blinded by her radiance
And in your drooling mania
You mindless mongering to maintain status quo
You become a murderer
She was not a witch
Just a wise old lady
 Feb 2017
Francie Lynch
She's a thoroughly modern Maura;
To know her's to adore her.
She brought Christmas home,
Made special days our own,
Setting aside her own wish-bones,
So we were well-looked after.

(yes, she explained to me
the import of hygiene:
you gotta remember,
we were pretty green
when we first landed on the scene)

And,
From this point on,
We were good on our own.

Yes, I love all my sisters and brothers,
But in my highest esteem,
My Maura tops all others.
Maura:  Actually, Mary Alice, but that was only on the B.C.
She's the oldest of the eleven sibs. I'm the seventh.
She was/is the best. Seventy-one years and raising a pint for many more to come.
 Feb 2017
Cristina
if time had fingers
I would braid them with mine
and never undo
this dance we call it
life.
 Feb 2017
Ma Cherie
Many Winters they have passed,
since you departed from this place,
many years and many tears,
to leave their mark upon my face,
you always had a lovely smile,
a shining bit of grace,

Cooking in the kitchen,
just cooking fear away,
I really wished I'd learned from you,
that you had chose to stay,
we couldn't know the sun,
just wouldn't rise that day,

The pumpkin seeds and love,
you cooked up tasted good,
and you created beauty,
like no other person could,
and you loved every person,
like we all already should,

Don't know how,
I'm just like you now,
I'm sure you think so too,
I share in all our time,
what I believe is true,
the sky is ever changing,
in it's lovely shaded blue,
Cerulean is a favorite,
of her painted sky in view,

So keep an eye on the horizon,
keep a hand to guard the Sun,
rest you in the evening hours,
when a grateful day is done,
even if we die,
our battle clearly won,

So I drink my wine at night,
and I celebrate to live,
I'm thankful for what I have,
and for in what I can give,

A little bit of you,
and the others I have known,
you are all a part of me,
  from the kindness I was shown,
from a tiny budding seed,
what a lovely thing has grown,

For I now have the seekers heart,
a seed from those before,
handed down in kindness rare,
an told in times of yore,

Learning in my life,
to end it all with sage,
so careful take it down,
to write on every page,
to ever have your back,
if war should ever rage,

I will share in what I know,
I give with words and hands,
I will tell the galaxy,
of the universe's plans,

And love will finally find a way.

Cherie Nolan © 2017
Inspired maybe? For an amazing friend I've never wrote of and this came like a flood- literally like spoken word- I don't know if it's good but it felt good. I miss her so for Jenny love you lady see you one day ❤ ❤❤ - Ma Cherie
 Feb 2017
Damian Murphy
Entwined, despair and hope
As two strands of the one rope...
Next page