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Poems On / About ROSE  11/1/2014 2:28:07 AM
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  369.     

The Rise

The rise we get,
from the things we do,
it drives us all,
we love it too.

To shoot a man,
or to speed a car.
The rise is everywhere,
its never far.

The rise we get,
when he rapes a girl,
or what she does after dinner,
she just loves to hurl.

We love the rise,
as we lead a new war.
When we dip into drugs,
or when he f***s his whore.

The rise we get,
when she cuts herself,
or when he jumps from a building,
no one cares to help.

Because its the rise we get,
that we accept the fall,
It's the rise we get,
that will kill us all.

The rise.
 
ally jones

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  370.     

At dusk I'll rise

You are overwhelmed and frustrated within,
You always just seemed to be on my side
But inside of your heart lies,
The untold truth that is
Shinning on your eyes.

You always want to put me down
Trying hard to decrease my happiness
Gossiping about me is meaningless
But still at dusk I’ll rise

Those teardrops are heavy to fall
From my fragile eyes
This word is slowly killing me
Whispering around my self
But still like dust i’ll rise

Do you want to write me down in history with your lies?
Weak heart, knowing-less mind
You are trying to spill blood on my dreams
Unbelieving the words i say inside
But still like fog I’ll rise

Wanting me to feel that my life is almost over
There is no point of living
But still like dawn I’ll rise

I’ll fly
Far from those mind
Far to inhabitant word
With those broken wings
I’ll rise
I’ll rise
I’ll rise

I’ll continue flying
Till I reach the oasis
Where the luster sparked
My intense emotions building up
My feeling is sky hope to reach
As I walked out and in
I’ll forever rise



March 25
 
khadija shaker

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  371.     

The Black Rose

The Black Rose

Black is the Rose,
as it stands for pain!
Dead
or tainted otherwise.
A sin stained Rose
Once Red or White
A Rose with a past like shadow
A Rose with a sin so heavy,
like ink,
it swells and spreads like disease,
turning what was once,
Passion!
or
Pure!
now,
a vile flower in the bed.
We fear this flower
We fear it's color
We fear it's wrath,
as it is a path the white rose may take.
A path we wish not to make.
The Black Rose
The sin drenched,
soul tainted,
corrupted,
Black Rose
 
Wesley Mincin

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  372.     

The Rose Rustler

The sun is surely rising
On yet another day.
Birds are chirping madly
As I head along my way.

I’m searching for that something
That’s missing from my mind.
I dream of finding roses
Lost to all mankind.

The roses in their glory
A smell of strong perfume.
The lure of mystic roses
Bringing me to you.

The rose blooms open slowly
As the sun shines on them so.
I think I’ll keep on looking
In this place that heaven knows.

Tombstones arched by roses
From a long gone time since passed.
Thorns and brambles masking
That rose I’ve found at last.

The search is never over
That rose is never found.
I’ll rustle here tomorrow
Again on hallowed ground.
 
Cheryl Moore

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