Weekly Short Stories Contest and Company! discussion

You have until May 19 to post a poem, and May 20-21 we’ll vote for which one we thought was best.

Please post directly into the topic and not a link. Please don’t use a poem previously used in this group.

Your poem can be any length.

This week’s topic is: Guilt

The rules are pretty loose. You can write a poem about anything that has to do with the topic. I do not care, but the poem you post must relate to the topic somehow.

Have fun!

Thank you to Garrison and Rachel for the topic!

Nice one! Thanks, Leslie :)

You're welcome! :)

Here is my poetry submission for this week's topic: Guilt. I wrote this poem over 20 years ago and thought it fit the topic. It doesn't actually contain the word "guilt" but I believe the poem portrays that emotion among many others.

MY BROKEN HEART


To you I am just an Aunt,
Someone you may never know.

To me you are a special child.
How I wish I could see you grow!

You may be very far away,
Or maybe just down the street.

But, my heart will think of you,
With each and every beat.

That heart will be broken,
On the day you go away.

For I will never hold you;
We will never play.

But, please remember, baby girl,
Even though we are apart.

Your Mommy and Aunt love you,
Along with my broken heart.

With strength given by God alone
Not from this porridge cold,
I’ll tell you how I have postponed
Sure death to here grow old.
Though feeble now I was weaker then
When stricken with cholera,
Desperate, I cried to the sky “amen!”
He answered in heavenly opera.

Now I asked if He could save me,
And what miracles were all about;
He said, “Son, I’d love to tell you
What Christianity has taught throughout.
Acceptance is what I preach to all;
Love everyone as if of kin,
So love me like your father dear,
And as for heaven, I’ll let you in.”

I thought this through and through and felt
This old man I could oblige,
But while He spoke my mind had dwelt
On matters of other kind.
I was feeling troubled by my past,
Not always had I done kind;
So His answer was not enough at last
To soothe my troubled mind.

“What of forgiveness?” I demanded
For emphasis stomping my foot
He said, calm and very candid,
“In me your sins you may put.
I don’t want good deeds, just confess
And your tally shall be reset.
And if, somehow, you do regress,
Apologize and I’ll soon forget.”

I liked the sound of this and so
My mind once more did wander,
To recall pleasant times that I wouldn’t forgo
For prayer for just an hour.
Realizing this dilemma, for appeasing explanation,
I look unto my Lord,
Hoping He wouldn’t make me sacrifice for
This religion that I adored.

He looked at me, I’m sure He smiled,
God sees the good in me.
He said, “Don’t pray consistently, child
I wouldn’t ask that of thee.
No actually just call upon me when
You need my intervention
And I’ll be there, time and again
To give your problems attention.”

I nodded and finally felt satisfied with
All that God had to say.
I knew I’d always have my faith
If trouble came my way.

I was born at night
When the moon was waxing new.
I was not enough.

*Reality Check*
By Billie Jo Moore

I want to know what it would feel like to be the reason of light
That shines in the world, hidden beneath Bobbi pins and curls.
And if one day I could help people see the beauty muddled by reality,
Then my work here will be done as I have accomplished it well and I will know I have not failed.
I'll open up some eyes and patch up some hearts and mothers will protect their youth and never be split apart.
I can't explain the way I think, I'm on the edge, the brink
Of fear, of defeat, of tears from being so quiet for
Too
Many
Years!
I finally understand the misguided hands
Of those less fortunate, of those who withstand all the torment!
I don't see how they survive, how they're still very much alive.
And even with the suffering in the world on their shoulders and the sadness weighing them down
Like boulders
Their faces are still perfect masks of smiles and happiness they spread to people for miles...
..and miles away there are people with less food
And money
And hope
And people who don't quite know how to cope
With bad news that came their way, but still they push through to yet another day.
Sill in another place in this world far away, there are people living on less than a dollar a day
We wish we could help them and their kids but underneath the pity we're still all too dang selfish.
Never once thinking about a life that is not ours, that is not proud, that has way less hours
To Live
To breathe
To be what they were born to be!
Yet none of us feel a least bit...guilty?
There are people living in fear and in hunger, and all we care about is tomorrow's weather?
What has become of humanity were people care more about image than personality?
And material things define who we are but everything matters more than what's in our hearts?
What kind of monsters have taken control of this life? What creatures are we becoming more
And more
And more alike
And every day, every time
It gets worse.
The amount of hatred prospers.
Now let me ask this one thing about being cool, "if the words from your lips were written on your skin, would you still be beautiful?"

Wonderful. I've missed your poems, Guy and Alex!

The Cycle

Lines on my arms
Lines that sting and harm
The blood beads out red
The guilt sets in, I wish I were dead

For some reason I don't die
I stay alive and I lie
I lie to everyone close to me
Because I'm afraid they might see

It gets harder and harder everyday
I try to keep going, but they make me pay
I hurt so much I feel I could scream
And I've hidden so much no one's left on my team

So I plan that I will feel relief tonight
I pull out my knife and quit my fight
It feels so good to finally let go
I wonder why I ever stooped so low

The cycle starts over with the lines
No one even notices the signs
I fall apart and no one sees
Until the day the cycle ends me

Nice work, Rachel. Sad subject matter, but you wrote a fine poem with it!

Release

You can try to run but never will you hide
From all that is raging and poisoning your inside

You can point around the jagged finger of blame
But you will always know the culprit's real name

You can try to drown it with the fruit of the vine
Avoiding others and drawing a harsh line

You can hope for years it will fade away
Yet it grows worse as self-respect goes astray

You can lie to yourself and still you will know
Until from your knees you confess and finally let go


This was a good topic!

Billie Jo wrote: "*Reality Check*
By Billie Jo Moore

I want to know what it would feel like to be the reason of light
That shines in the world, hidden beneath Bobbi pins and curls.
And if one day I could help peopl..."

Billie Jo,

I really like the last line of your poem.

Wrong, wrong was I.
I thought it was all for good.

he lied.
he said it would be okay, but he lied.

Now my living corpse will rot forever in this cell.
until the devil opens the fiery gates of hell
for this body
a murder
wrong, wrong was I.


He got off scotch free.
The one paying is me
He told me to do it but I know I should take blame.

I have the rest of my life
to wallow in regret, guilt, and strife
I knew I could not fight the darkness.

when the devil's so pretty,
it's easy to miss
that an angel does not lie inside.

Ajay wrote: "Wonderful. I've missed your poems, Guy and Alex!"

Hello Ajay! I've missed yours, too. And the WSS. Crazy busy. Wanted to get a story written, but just didn't make the time work.

Robert wrote: "Billie Jo wrote: "*Reality Check*
By Billie Jo Moore

I want to know what it would feel like to be the reason of light
That shines in the world, hidden beneath Bobbi pins and curls.
And if one day ..."

Thank you