Rick's Poetry Corner. Focus on Male Feet

Your new poem, SUICIDE AND CYANIDE, reminds me of Rev. Jones and Kool-Aid and peach pits (or is it cherry pits?). Cyanide is supposedly a very quick death, but also a painful one. I think if you swallowed some and began reading "i take my pills...", you'd be dead before you got to the end of that line.

ONE LAST BIRTHDAY is also melancholy. It's not easy to develop a jaunty cadence when reciting such sad poetry.

I think Poe would have been delighted with your latest two efforts, Rick.
 
AH... SPRING

thank you spring for the wonderful bouquet you present to me
thank you spring for your fragrance that fills the air and makes me smile
thank you spring for allowing me to touch your silkiness and to feel your beauty
thank you spring for blessing me with your array of colors
thank you spring for being there on my birthday and to count the years
thank you spring for being there on mother's day to thank mom for being mom
thank you spring for being there on my wedding day to celebrate my relationship
thank you spring to celebrate in a child's birth
thank you spring for being there for so many special occasions
thank you spring for being there when there wasn't a good reason
thank you spring i know you will brighten any room even when it is a sad moment for those around you
thank you spring for making me feel better knowing that you will be here once again

dedicated to: Serrth

Thank You Stu....so sweet of you....P2230021 (2).jpg
 
here's a poem that i wrote for my deceased grandmother as she was in a hospice dying
I hope you all like it

here i lie in bed again, awaiting my next meal.
a worker barges in my room, as if it's no big deal.

whatever happened to curtesy? just a little knock
do you think i'm just a vegetable, laying here like a rock?

whatever happened to manners? i haven't got a clue
BUT KEEP IN MIND AND DON'T FORGET THAT I'M A PERSON TOO

i know i can not talk, or even joke around
but i am well aware of everything and also every sound.

if you have another worker help, change me during rounds
please don't talk about me as if i'm not around

treat me with respect, the same i give to you

KEEP IN MIND AND DON'T FORGET THAT I'M A PERSON TOO

my bones are stiff and achy, i hear you say i'm contracted
my belly hurts, i haven't pooped, i hope i'm not impacted

i'm sorry i may drool and at times i even stare
it's not easy being old, aging isn't fair

these are the cards God dealt me, there's nothing i can do

JUST KEEP IN MIND AND DON'T FORGET THAT I'M A PERSON TOO

i used to be a lively one, just like your pretty self
i traveled, married, and worked long hours until i lost my health.

i press my call light to see a face, or just for company for someone just to look inside, and realize that i am me

you always walk past my light, what am i to do?

PLEASE REMEMBER THAT I'M A PERSON TOO

i am sorry that i messed the bed, i feel like such a baby
i'm so embarrassed and ashamed that i am doing this at age 80

i'm sorry that i couldn't hold it, i didn't know what to do

PLEASE KEEP IN MIND AND DON'T FORGET THAT I'M A PERSON TOO

i wish that i was able to communicate someway
so finally i get the chance to say what i want to say.

i hear you talk with other patients so please don't walk away
if everyone showed a little compassion i wouldn't feel this way
my name is Ruth, and i am all alone.
cancer took my husband, he had it in his bones

we had two children, and my precious son until his life was taken by a gun.

so here i am, no family left, as loneliness weighs heavy on my chest.

i may be sad, i may be blue
BUT PLEASE REMEMBER THAT I'M A PERSON TOO

next time my light is on, come in and see if i'm ok
i really would love to hear about your day
 
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Your poem is full of terrible truths. This is indeed what can happen when we grow old. It's very sad to think of your grandmother (or anyone for that matter) suffering and helpless. When I reach that stage, I'll wish Dr. Kevorkian were still around.
 
Ricky.
I love your seasonal poetry. The optimism of spring comes across strongly and that optimism comes through in the second winter is here poem. You seem here to be a genuinely gifted guy whose work would grace any anthology.
As to your more specialised work you write well but somehow your heart doesn’t seem to be in it to the same extent. Yes it is well written but I don’t like it as much.
But one thing is certain. Your lately found enthusiasm for verse is bringing great pleasure to many of your fans on site.
Please continue posting.
 
for serrth.........


LOVELY SPRING


trees wear a gown of bright emerald green
where birds are nesting in branches up high
parents shield fledglings so they can't be seen
until they can spread their new wings and fly

daffodils dance in the warm, zephyr breeze
bees buzz seeking out these pretty flowers
yellow pollen doesn't make the bees sneeze
they will pollinate blooms for many hours

young lams gambowling around in the fields
birds fly high in the sky of azure blue
i love the spring season were nature yields
our earth's a stunning place for me and you

spring brings rejuvenation to our land
the vibrant countryside looks so grand
 
I see an internal rhyme -- "...bees sneeze..." That's neat! This isn't just a Spring poem either. The presence of daffodils and lambs suggest Easter as well.
 
AH... SPRING

thank you spring for the wonderful bouquet you present to me
thank you spring for your fragrance that fills the air and makes me smile
thank you spring for allowing me to touch your silkiness and to feel your beauty
thank you spring for blessing me with your array of colors
thank you spring for being there on my birthday and to count the years
thank you spring for being there on mother's day to thank mom for being mom
thank you spring for being there on my wedding day to celebrate my relationship
thank you spring to celebrate in a child's birth
thank you spring for being there for so many special occasions
thank you spring for being there when there wasn't a good reason
thank you spring i know you will brighten any room even when it is a sad moment for those around you
thank you spring for making me feel better knowing that you will be here once again

dedicated to: Serrth


I like this poem a lot because it offers the reader Hope and Light,
as Spring is a time of New Beginnings and New Life.

 
another one for you my friend Alex
for the little boy deep inside of you

WINTER IS HERE

the snow slowly falling off the trees
the feel of the cold sharp breeze.
the feel of the soft powdery snow, the sun going down with a bright glow.
the crunch of the snow as we sled down the hill
the snow dust in your face creates a chill.
the strong scent of apple pie
let's you know it's time to say goodbye.
the walk to the house is long and cold
as the sunsets slowly begins to fold.
the feel of the heat is warm and cozy
the taste of the pie makes you feel very rosy.
the sun is down, it's time for bed
as the memories of the first snow day dance in your head.

Again, another poem that offers such insight into the sheer wonder of the Seasons of ice and snow,
all glistening the Light.

 
SUICIDE AND CYANIDE

i take my pills, and i am happy all the time
i drink my drink and i am wasted worth my while
my heart's a toy he wants to play the game
but which one of us is to blame?

i drink my cyanide
contemplating suicide
maybe death is the only place i'm meant to reside
scrutinized until i am crucified
don't worry about me though, i'm fine

i take my pills, i'm ready to die
i drank my cyanide, i'm dead none to soon
my heart was a toy and you played the game
you won, but i'm still to blame


This poem screams out depression and the sad.
To all the broken hearted people to whom this genre of poetry so speaks,
I offer you this ....

Come walk in the Light of Life and Love.

 
here's a poem that i wrote for my deceased grandmother as she was in a hospice dying
I hope you all like it

here i lie in bed again, awaiting my next meal.
a worker barges in my room, as if it's no big deal.

whatever happened to curtesy? just a little knock
do you think i'm just a vegetable, laying here like a rock?

whatever happened to manners? i haven't got a clue
BUT KEEP IN MIND AND DON'T FORGET THAT I'M A PERSON TOO

i know i can not talk, or even joke around
but i am well aware of everything and also every sound.

if you have another worker help, change me during rounds
please don't talk about me as if i'm not around

treat me with respect, the same i give to you

KEEP IN MIND AND DON'T FORGET THAT I'M A PERSON TOO

my bones are stiff and achy, i hear you say i'm contracted
my belly hurts, i haven't pooped, i hope i'm not impacted

i'm sorry i may drool and at times i even stare
it's not easy being old, aging isn't fair

these are the cards God dealt me, there's nothing i can do

JUST KEEP IN MIND AND DON'T FORGET THAT I'M A PERSON TOO

i used to be a lively one, just like your pretty self
i traveled, married, and worked long hours until i lost my health.

i press my call light to see a face, or just for company for someone just to look inside, and realize that i am me

you always walk past my light, what am i to do?

PLEASE REMEMBER THAT I'M A PERSON TOO

i am sorry that i messed the bed, i feel like such a baby
i'm so embarrassed and ashamed that i am doing this at age 80

i'm sorry that i couldn't hold it, i didn't know what to do

PLEASE KEEP IN MIND AND DON'T FORGET THAT I'M A PERSON TOO

i wish that i was able to communicate someway
so finally i get the chance to say what i want to say.

i hear you talk with other patients so please don't walk away
if everyone showed a little compassion i wouldn't feel this way
my name is Ruth, and i am all alone.
cancer took my husband, he had it in his bones

we had two children, and my precious son until his life was taken by a gun.

so here i am, no family left, as loneliness weighs heavy on my chest.

i may be sad, i may be blue
BUT PLEASE REMEMBER THAT I'M A PERSON TOO

next time my light is on, come in and see if i'm ok
i really would love to hear about your day


So powerfully stated and too often so true.
There IS a social contract, the Common Good.

In this ME world in which we live,
ME wants this and ME wants that and ME wants it NOW and only ME counts.

Fast cars, fast food, fast entertainment, get out of MY way, ONLY I COUNT !

Despite it all, there are still those who have a caring heart and who will give a lifting hand to help.
Where can such persons be found?

Walking in the Light, not the darkness, affirming that which is greater than themselves.

The Universe that glistens in the heavens at night,
and the Sun that shines forth every New Day,
Speaks of all that is so very much greater than the meaness of ME
of a Creator of Light, Life and yes,
Love is at the core.

This Good Friday, a dark day indeed,
is here this very somber day.
Yet despite the darkness of ME and this so life-negating world,
a much better day shall dawn again.

It will be Sunday,
when the Son rises and the sheer brilliance of Light, Love and LIFE
fill all the dark, MEaness places ....
when Easter dawns.



 
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Arrowman - yes, so powerfully stated and true - There IS a social contract, the Common Good and there are many good people who try to live by that, whether they say it as 'Love thy neighbour as thyself' or 'That of God in every person' (the Quaker formulation, my own religious heritage), or the similar ideas which run through all the world's great religions in their different ways, or the principles of socialism, or just quietly try to do it because it is so obviously how all good humans should be.
There are many good people trying to live like that, to think of others not just ME ME ME - as a disabled man I see it perhaps more than most people, and it makes such a difference. And encouragingly, if anything it is the younger generations who who are more thoughtful rather than less.
 
my dog, my true best friend

my dog named peanut is a best friend to me, i have some traits that belong only to he
like loyalty and respect, compassion and faithfulness
of each trait, he always gets more and never less
i love him so deeply, he is always in my heart
he loves me as well, and that's the best part
peanut is exceptionally pleasant, he is rarely ever a pest
he is affectionate and loving, and that is what makes him the best
wherever i go, wherever i am
his love stays with me, his friendly self, gentle as a lamb
and when he dies, and leaves me behind
he will never be forgotten since he was the pleasurable kind
peanut, always has happiness to lend
and that's what makes him my true best friend
 
KEEP IN MIND AND DON'T FORGET THAT I'M A PERSON TOO

Very meaningful to me. My aunt is 90. Thanks to some policy she took out decades ago, she can remain in her home with full care. But she’s lonely. Few come to visit, even her family. So, I try to get to over on a regular basis, just to brighten her drab, diaper, wheelchair life. It’s hard to visit her because dementia has set in, and everything must be repeated ad nauseum. It isn’t her fault. She gave such great joy to so many for so long, but her friends died off, and younger folk who could cheer her up have busy lives.

I remember. I was that way in Cleveland in my 20’s when my 90+ grandfather was alone in Oberlin. I didn’t drive over to visit much because I was so busy with my newly discovered gay social life. Later, with six other old folks, I made sure I visited as often as possible in the nursing homes. It is so lonely there. So easy to feel neglected and forgotten. KEEP IN MIND AND DON'T FORGET THAT I'M A PERSON TOO

I also feel this way towards people not in nursing homes and not old. I don’t like panhandling and don’t give them money. But I make sure to at least look them in the eye when I shake my head or say no. I won’t avert my eyes or look through them. They are people, too. So many other examples. Some of my relatives in the Midwest voted for Trump, but I know they are good people, not knuckle-draggers as some accuse them. I try to understand where they are coming from, even though this is so fucking hard.

And on CDG. I remember my first few Caleb stories drew very few comments. I was hurt. I had put so much time into them, trying to make them just right and very erotic. Then nothing. It hurt. So, when I see post that some dude has worked hard on, especially if he’s new to the site, I try to comment, to encourage them, to let them know someone paid attention to them. Even if their story or artwork didn’t grab my dick.

So, yeah, Ricky. It’s a wonderful philosophy for anyone, about anyone, even if it’s a guy who rhapsodizes about eating a mutilated, rotting corpse.

KEEP IN MIND AND DON'T FORGET THAT I'M A PERSON TOO
 
KEEP IN MIND AND DON'T FORGET THAT I'M A PERSON TOO

Very meaningful to me. My aunt is 90. Thanks to some policy she took out decades ago, she can remain in her home with full care. But she’s lonely. Few come to visit, even her family. So, I try to get to over on a regular basis, just to brighten her drab, diaper, wheelchair life. It’s hard to visit her because dementia has set in, and everything must be repeated ad nauseum. It isn’t her fault. She gave such great joy to so many for so long, but her friends died off, and younger folk who could cheer her up have busy lives.

I remember. I was that way in Cleveland in my 20’s when my 90+ grandfather was alone in Oberlin. I didn’t drive over to visit much because I was so busy with my newly discovered gay social life. Later, with six other old folks, I made sure I visited as often as possible in the nursing homes. It is so lonely there. So easy to feel neglected and forgotten. KEEP IN MIND AND DON'T FORGET THAT I'M A PERSON TOO

I also feel this way towards people not in nursing homes and not old. I don’t like panhandling and don’t give them money. But I make sure to at least look them in the eye when I shake my head or say no. I won’t avert my eyes or look through them. They are people, too. So many other examples. Some of my relatives in the Midwest voted for Trump, but I know they are good people, not knuckle-draggers as some accuse them. I try to understand where they are coming from, even though this is so fucking hard.

And on CDG. I remember my first few Caleb stories drew very few comments. I was hurt. I had put so much time into them, trying to make them just right and very erotic. Then nothing. It hurt. So, when I see post that some dude has worked hard on, especially if he’s new to the site, I try to comment, to encourage them, to let them know someone paid attention to them. Even if their story or artwork didn’t grab my dick.

So, yeah, Ricky. It’s a wonderful philosophy for anyone, about anyone, even if it’s a guy who rhapsodizes about eating a mutilated, rotting corpse.

KEEP IN MIND AND DON'T FORGET THAT I'M A PERSON TOO

very good words on your part, well put, its nice to see my poem had the impact on u it was suppose to have! thanks!
 
Awww, peanut is a sweet name for a dog, and dogs are definitely the best...far superior to those nasty disease-carrying cats. When you read "my dog, my true best friend" to peanut, does he appear to understand? In any event, please give him a kiss for me.
 
Awww, peanut is a sweet name for a dog, and dogs are definitely the best...far superior to those nasty disease-carrying cats. When you read "my dog, my true best friend" to peanut, does he appear to understand? In any event, please give him a kiss for me.

peanut blew u a kiss back! lol
 
diary of a necrophiliac



three tears is all that i can almost shed
i wound up tighter then any threat, as you lay on white sheets upon the bed
i can't help but think you look beautiful dead

my hand would love to touch your skin
my head is full of the most atrocious sin
but you are so cold and won't let me in
tell me, how can the veil of lust be so thin

you cannot be older than thirty, the way your arches curve is so damn flirty
and my mind is full of images salaciously dirty
you are so so tempting naked and clothes free

and even i despair to caress you, it is pointless now to seek to impress you
my job is to clean, arrange and dress you
make you up to look like the best do
but oh! lovely corpse i have a need to see you buried, covered in and carry my seed
nobody will ever know for secrecy i plead, you will still look handsome in spite of my wicked deed
 
necrophilia

the dead, what is it with them
that i find so attractive?
is it their cold, lifeless bodies
that bend to my darkest desires?

it's twisted, vile, forbidden in every known human culture to attempt and to have sexual stimulation with a corpse
it's in my very nature to act
against common conformity
to be interested in grotesque stories

maybe i like the danger
defying nature and defiling the dead
denying social dogma, doing as i please
on the floor in front of your feet and cock on both of my knees
maybe i like the cold,
the stiffness, the discoloration
the domination and exhilaration.
maybe i just like being myself
 
The pretty man, to be made dead.
The pretty dead, to be ravished.

Ricky, your necro poetry fucks my mind! I would kneel and worship at your feet, but I’m afraid I’d begin to bite your toes off, and that might smart a bit. So I will merely kiss you and say Thanks.
 
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