Run, Run, Run…#306

Free Style Micro Poetry

Run,Run,Run…#305

A  caged sleep, tears shed, the thoughts of false caring that others portray is a lie.  Their spitefulness in thought held captive the sleeping mind not allowing it to wake.  There are those that cannot be trusted, they show concern for their own selves and their own greed.  They are always on the prowl to take, take, and take.  They cause pain to the minds of the blameless and find in it joy, their tongue of fire knows not the truth.  Yet, they will ask you for your prayers, to engorge their own needs.  If they touch your life, it will never be the same.

Run, Run, Run…

©2021.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

Beware of Beneath the Ground…#305

Poetry Free Style

Beware Beneath the Ground

Thieves, vagrants, gangs, satanic cults, catacombs beneath the streets a place where unsavory people meet.  Ask the old man on the corner and he will say it is below the earth where evil lurks, as he smiles his face forms a smirk.

Rituals that are created straight out of hell, if you will stay long enough his story he will tell, then he will take you quickly to a doorway leading to hell.  He will say, mind my word if you go down below the ground your body will have welts and scratches and you are surrounded by growling sounds. 

Words of caution it may be fate, if you adventure out at night, ghosts are not the only thing lying in wait.  If you poke fun at my story and go beneath the ground, you too may never be found.

©2011.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

Beware of the Politician…#304

Beware of the Politician

Poetry written in 2012, times do not change…

In this tedious, disastrous land

We must be doubtful of the

Political ignorant.

They seize my senses in how

They deceive and when called

Out they act belligerent.

They are slowly taking from us

The values we hold dear.

Beware the politicians

Control our lives and rule by

Fear.

 ©2011.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

Micro Poetry – Recalling of Time…#303

Recalling of Time

Memories, the past has many doors to open, one could spend a lifetime in these corridors of time.  Rooms bulging with stories good and bad; they rise to fill our minds with happiness, joy or sadness.  Like soft petals falling to the ground, so does the memory of our life fall gently upon our hearts?

©2021.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

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Free Style Poetry – A Life Unrepressed…#303

Free Style Poetry-Books at Amazon.com

A Life Unrepressed

Lighting surges through a war of disrespectful words, tears descending, wet.  In times of uncertainty, an unknown sadness is out of control, a smile, a gesture; or fear clings to a receptive body.  Words may not bring rest or smiles, the soul deep within knows.

There is no one that can unlock the heart, nothing that can be said or felt.  Thoughts, do not reveal or conceal, disguise the lack of sympathy, place blame and criticize.  Alienate the voice, if only for one moment feel free.  Fate, possession, strife, and life.

The genuine self, forced to obey, despite and un-regarded life blind to the hurt of others will embed hate eternally.  The knowledge of life fire and force, walking down a rough path; deep pain.  No spirit, hate has the power to control, nameless feelings that have conceded to a life unrepressed.  Speak and act so no one will know hidden damage floating down to the soul.

The hidden self, inward strife and following demands; in return, a thousand nothings, all-miraculously give power.   Hide in the depths of the soul; echo speaks of pain.  Lackluster eyes stare, glare, and the words unspoken deafening creating fear.  A bolt of tones, frightening, is piercing ears.

No feeling stirs, the heart laid plain, unaware of a life winding down, no meadows of flowers, no sun, no breeze, and the madness is elusive to all.  No feeling, no respite.  In quietness, the war of mocking words; the tears, the sadness. The thoughts of the sea, the crashing waves; soul and spirit sinking within its wet madness and always stay, stay, and stay.

Too late, love revealed itself in death, and the heart has nothing to say.  Living and moving in disguises, alien, until the end.  Life had nothing to possess, strife, identity.  Blind, uncertainty, life no fire or restlessness, a thirst for the mystery of it all, nameless feelings lived in vain.  The loss, the heart lay open for all to see, the hurt hidden twisted among the rubble of pain.  Yet, after all that, there is tomorrow. 

©2021.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

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Sorrowfulness…#302

Face, Soul, Head, Smoke, Light, Sad

Sorrowfulness…

Hatred clear an unwanted Soul, upon conception, cast it away, fear or greed.  One life could not see a future; starvation did not kill the seed, fear or greed?

The tiny Soul survived destiny or fate?

A life of oppression from the moment of birth; scared and burdened with emotional wounds throughout its journey on earth.

All of the tomorrows’ the path long and steep; it searched a lifetime to asking why did the mothers’ anger run so deep.

 The moment the mother was laid in the ground.  Truth in its abandonment never found, this abused Soul tries to remember that understanding and sorrowfulness are closely bound.

©2021.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

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Sanity and Sorrow…#301

Sanity and Sorrow…

Evidence clear about an unwanted Soul,

upon conception the possessor wanted

to cast it away, fear or greed.  One life

could not see a future, yet starvation

by the mother did not kill the seed,  

fear or self-greed.

Why did the tiny Soul survive, destiny

or fate; it survived a life without love

never held by the mother with her

heart filled with hate.  The new Soul

born within a life of oppression from

the moment of birth; scared and

burdened with emotional wounds

throughout its journey on earth.

All of its tomorrows’ found the Soul’s

 path long and steep; it searched a

 lifetime to find out why the mothers’

 anger ran so deep, to the moment it

 laid the mother in the ground.  Truth

in its abandonment never found, this

abused Soul tries to remember that

sanity and sorrow are closely bound.

©2021.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

#Mother #Tomorrow #Journey #Hate

#Soul #Greed

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Love Defined…#301

Roses, Red Roses, Bouquet Of Roses

Love Defined

Love thy face a shapeless flame,

A wonderful nothing it claimed

Did I see, as sensation set itself?

Free.  Love steadily gone, a

Choir of seraphs did I hear, as love

Spent within my sphere.

©2021.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

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#Love

Limiting Time…#300

Limiting Time

Survival, panorama, prospect, quality of life’s environment, genetics and promises that reveal nothing, the past descends like rain from the sky, washing away all dreams. 

Ghost of youth chanting within the soul, paths blocked; evil has spread across the landscape of a lifetime. 

Loneliness, love and happiness; limits, boundaries slow down the process of the future.

Nevertheless, the future may be shrouded with abundant solitude from where there is no escape.

©2021.elizabethannjohnsonmurphree

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Reality…#259

The future, its viewless things,

That undiscovered mystery.  Will

We feel death’s lifeless wings.

No one wants these ending things,

Hiding behind curtained windows

To keep the world from seeing dying

Eyes.

Bathed in the dew of morn, the snowy

Landscape spreads.  This is the world in

Which we are born, the world which will

Be gone when we are dead.

We become sick of wasted bodies, the

Mortal strife, the pain of taking a breath.

Is sorrow the course of your life as your,

Soul combats with death.

We pray for calmness before our wilted

Spirits must go.  Life is beginning to be all

Too clear, and soon we will all be gone

From here.

©elizabethannjohnsonmurphree.honeysucklememories