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poems of the week

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Father, please forgive me
For every time I bend a knee
Most of the time I beg and plead
Asking for stuff I don't even need
When I should take time to thank you
For all the wonderful stuff you do
When I should be praising you
For all you've brought me through
Father forgive me when I judge
My sisters and brothers
Forgive me when I think of myself
As being better than another
Forgive me when I don't stand for what's right
Forgive me when I try to hide your marvelous light
Forgive me for condemning others
For doing things I use to do
Forgive me for taking credit
When I know it belongs to you
Forgive me for lying, hating, being jealous
And for doing all the things you told me not to do
Father, right now I forgive all others who have done me wrong
I didn't realize I was holding grudges and the list has become very long
Father, I forgive those who changed my sunny skies to grey
Father, I forgive those who placed obstacles in my way
I forgive those who broke my heart
I forgive those who told lies hoping to tear my life apart
I forgive those who betrayed me
I forgive the ones who hate me
I forgive the ones filled with jealousy and envy
I forgive the ones who prayed for my downfall
I forgive those who hurt me for no reason at all
For I know that you will not answer my forgiveness plea
Until I forgive EVERYONE that has done something to me

Demeterius Smith aka Flite (c) 


These words I now write are so hard for me to say,
I try hard to speak my mind but never a sound comes 
out my mouth.  

Harder still I press, yet closed my lips still stay 
so I hope you understand why I'm writing because
pride just won't let me say, "I'M SORRY MY FRIEND, 

Eric Egerson (c)


My success, my failure, to find comfort in turmoil,
  to deal with life, to deal with death 
    the lesser, the greater, all that is in between
      to harp on fantasy, to confront reality
        this is my war; sunrise shows I'm not yet out
          the battle wages on, as long as I breathe

To see, to hear, to refuse to see what I hear
  to walk blindly, I choose not to see
    to be I must choose to see
      losing love I learn, is it hate that I learn, 
        do I finally learn to love correctly
          should I fight for peace,
            peace does not shed blood, as long as I bleed

I should not live to die, that is not living
  looking my opponent daily in the looking glass
    today he will not win, today I will not lose
      to think to listen to my heart, to not think at all
        too much to gain, too much to lose
          the difference between fortune and shame is preparation,
            I must prepare, as long as my heart beats

To conceive me was a gamble, to create me was a risk
   to break even is not good enough, 
     I must do better than good enough,
       fight to swim, not just float
         the saga continues to continue

Brian Henry (c)

Winter's Woe

Where have all the flowers gone?
Has springtime forsaken them,
And left the earth to mourn?
Their faces used to bring such joy!
And sweet fragrance brought me peace
Autumn's come and bid them
Their petals to release!

Such lies the blue birds sang!
A harmonic song with eternal refrain
When northerlies  blow close their beaks,
Ne'er open 'til 'tis spring again.
Silent short days have seized the land
With a white down coat covering
Beautiful forests are now bland.

Come back fair lilies and clothe the field
Make soft the hard ground
And cause the frost to yield.
Return sun, make long the days
Cause joy to come forth 
Bring back your yellow shine
Guide song birds to north!

Jerod Frazier (c)


Dry leaves
cold winds
winter rains 
like a chilling frost
only increase my weeping

between the west and the east is
a warm bed
and a bright moon shining
in the tall branches of the forest
with insects chirping

from my empty window
wind and dew come in
I thought I smell a river
the weatherman mentioned a hurricane
don't ask how I felt

it's a small room of the honored dead
pulled down to his knees by the spirit
of dead Aristotle and dying Plato
they long promised to make me a man
in shoes from sheets of long dead cows

and I sleep now awake
no turning on of the heat
I cannot afford to pay
falling in love with pneumonia
looking more an Eskimo than me

imagine meeting me
snowflakes falling without a face
the sun telling you it's not easy
being alive in autumn clouds
which story will you write of solitary?

Padmore Agbemabiese (c)

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