Lucky

How lucky am I

My hands in your Hair

Holding you just so…kissing you

Not willing to let go

The clamoring of the world fades

In your lips I find No need to breathe

So willing to leave the world behind

My hands in your hair

Your lips on mine

Feeling you melt into me

How lucky am I

Chris McQueeney    9/6/12    8:02 P.M.

Check out mister know it all's Flash 55 Fridays  and see what every one else has done

When stone weeps

Is my pride

Played for the fool

One more time

Left feeling broken

Scraped raw and bleeding

Inside

Left with thoughts

Of a different time

Different frame of mind

Thoughts of love

Played for the fool

Yet another time

Played for the fool

By my own mind

Scraped raw and bleeding

Is my pride

Breaking my heart one more time

Grieving what I had

Inside

Chris McQueeney    7/28/12    1:47 P.M.

Open link night :Their life's blood

Their life’s blood

Fuck!

Please excuse the expletive

At times all there is

Is to curse

The fate left to those

In more glamourized times

Were called G>I>> Joes

What they do

For us

Me...and you

Is oft forgotten

By both Red, and Blue

We sit with our

T.V.s

Our summer time

711

Slurpee

While some use 911

To justify

Those Joes sitting

Or standing

Or die  ing with only an M.R.E.

To live for

With only memories of

Mother and father

Son or daughter

The girl at the corner store waiting

To hear if their

Brother son daughter lover friend

Is dead in the sand of some fucking

Foreign land…and why I ask you

Why are we there

Spilling our life’s blood

In another fucking foreign war

Chris McQueeney    9/4/12    11:27 A.M.

This poem is being linked to d’Versepoetry pub…today is Open link night and all are welcome to try their hand at cooking up some poetry.

This poem was penned in response to a poem over at .waystationone.com Brian has a verse that set me off

Zombie Poems

Ben Ditty said...

Ben Ditty said...

Noo bring it back from the dead! I want zombie poems to eat my brain!

August 31, 2012 11:49 PM 

It will feast

Zombie poems that eat your brain

Rising from poetries death

Hand dug from their own grave

Oh the humanity

      He said

The poetry is dead

      He said

Oh how I wish

He’d kept his

  Fucking

        Mouth

               Shut

From wishes to words

     They came

The poetry is still

Dead…a human stain

But dead though this poetry be

It shambles inside your mind

And on your brains

It will feast

Chris McQueeney     9/2/12    3:02 P.M.

Held sway

Held sway

The poetry has fled

Leaving in its discorded

Wake a vacuum

The forlorn wailing

Of wind across its void

The only sign of its passing

The poetry has left they’ll say

Through Ignorance

And Contempt

In a world where Idiocy

Held sway

To be smart is Bad

To act Dumb is good

In such a world how could the poetry

Not wither away

Chris McQueeney    8/31/12    9:57 P.M.