Tagged: Poetry

My Dearest Friend, Pain

You know me all too well,
been together through the toughest times.
You’ve shown up unexpectedly,
repeatedly, we’re partners in crime. .
What should I do with your teachings?
What would I be without those mental beatings?
You’ve woke me up at night,
just out of malice, just to pick a fight.
I’ve yelled at you to go away,
but you’ve stayed at my side the whole time.
One thing I should say,
you’ve always been upfront, always trying.
There one minute, gone the next,
what am I to do, wait around thinking; “what’s next?”
You’re friends with so many people,
how did you become so popular?
You come up in conversations often,
we talk about you like you’re a bloody blockbuster.
But I have to admit we’ve been through a lot,
what’s your next move, what’s the plot?
Can you not give me sign?
Give me a sense of things to come?
You’re constantly reminding me,
of things left unsaid, left undone.
Is this what our relationship is to you?
A constant thorn of what we’ve been through?
The change…
I’m sorry to say I must let you go,
this isn’t a game, this isn’t a show.
I’m powerfully consistent, persistent,
insistent of my convictions.
You’re probably one of the worst
roommates I’ve ever had to live with.
Be gone I say, don’t you come back,
you cannot ask me to cut you some slack.
Your control over me has lost its appeal,
you lie, you cheat, there’s nothing left for you to steal.
No more mister nice guy,
you’ll get nothing out of me.
Try to save face, try it and see,
I’ve beat you before, I’m finally free.
I sense you’ve weakened since you started this game,
you should be afraid, you’re attempts are lame.
Give up already, you’ve lost the battle,
everything you say now sounds like psychobabble.
Whenever you’re around I feel like laughing,
here’s a toast to you, I’ll have whatever you’re having.
Actually, let’s toast to my freedom, just beware,
come around me again, and fists will flare.
So goodbye pain, feel free to keep clear,
If you don’t tables will turn, it’s me you’ll fear.

Martin R. Lemieux

Adversity Beaten – POEM:

Adversity - Lion in Men!
ALIVE • COSMOSYS XI • by Martin Grohs

Why is it always my misfortune,
that you become my trial, my disaster?

Is it my bad luck, my trouble,
should I confess my sins before a pastor?

I’ve had some difficulty with this,
I’m a tragedy, a shock to the system.

It was no accident, a setback in life,
there’s no tribulations within my prison.

Within the time of my own; calamity,
pain, trauma, torture, I will be set free.

With this shock, a minor setback,
with this sorrow, fueling misery.

My heartbreak, suffering checked out,
my affliction, brings out the boy-scout.

My roar be heard loud and clear,
the misadventures, hardships and doubts.

Let bad luck reverse this real tragedy,
let karma cross out, this is a knock-out.

I remove my burden from those I love,
the troubles, the woe, just let it be known.

I should be upset to the blow to my jaw,
I use reversal of fortune, i’m in the zone.

This crisis started as a catastrophe,
by turning the tables, my will overcomes.

The vicissitude has lost this one mishap,
this is not my buffet, I will not be overrun.

In the hardest of times, people take flight,
bound to their pain, their rush, their escape!

Not me I said, not my will, nor my might!
I will defeat hard times with merely a scrape!

Not a bone, nor a muscle, is without trouble,
the difficulty tested, mishap faltered.

The wretchedness of my prison, bars be broken,
my minds inner strength, neither beaten or altered.

“What ill luck,” people will typically say,
“what ill luck?” I say back, what sad reality.

Their minds unaware, their stress is not unfound,
for I never waiver, it’s in my spirituality.

I say onto you, thinking this hell on earth,
be different, think different, love different.

Let the law of the universe guide your birth,
let other see you set fire in your commitment.

Let the distress of your disaster wash away,
for nothing is permanent, nothing ever dies anyway.

Adversity broken.

Peace and love;
Martin R. Lemieux

Blog: http://myspiritualjournals.blogspot.ca/
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Martin R. Lemieux

A Love Note

Let’s sit on the same side of the table while we steal tastes from each other’s plates without asking. Unspoken permission is always granted with...