just poetic




and the words fell onto the page 


just as silently as he aged


a lost memory is regained


when the truth is revealed 


and the rains rain



everything happens in good time


life certainly has it's own way to rhyme


don't you wish you were still young


and could feel the pleasure of the past's rain upon your tongue?



how does it feel 


to live this lie?


knowing you'll carry this


til your final goodbye





8:38 AM 7/6/2013






Dishonest Man

I'm hesistant to admit

That I've never felt this way before

I'm willing to permit

You to change me at my core


I've written poetry for girls

Who tear down my many walls

But know as this one unfurls

It's not for you at all


I'm a relationship man

Like a sweet girl, not a ditz

But  I just want a one-night stand

Or maybe friends with benefits


I've always been one for cuddling

I'll be the big spoon through the night

But these new feelings have been bubbling

Just want me some afternoon delight


My old self has been upended

These changes have left me vexed

Won't got out with the girls and be friended

But call me after and you'll get birthday sexed


Let it be known I'm not in it for the long run

But for now, why don't we give it a whirl

If we get caught, that's all the more fun

You could make a dishonest man out of me, girl

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I don't really like this one. Not so much that I'll say I hate it, but not enough that I'll still post it here and pretend I don't want anyone to see it. Wrote it on my lunch break: practice makes perfect.

View ribbin's Full Portfolio


There are no secrets that are safe,

In fact, 'safe', is much a thing of the past

When it comes to a 'secret',

Best to just keep them for the good things,

The ones that last!


2:58 PM 6/25/2013 ©

Author's Notes/Comments: 

About how people can be stupid when it comes to honesty. (not truth, which is something all together different)

View nightlight1220's Full Portfolio

Who Am I

Who am I

to say what's right?

Who am I

to speak my mind?

Who am I

to call you fake?

Who am I

to detect a lie?

Who am I

to be honest?

Who am I

to be ugly and yet pure?

Who am I?

I am the truth

which you seek.


By: Yvonne Bradley

View hufflepuffnerd.22's Full Portfolio

the truth of honesty

if you have a brain,

and the brain works,

and you violate people's privacy,

for the sole reason of picking them apart,

and telling lies,

and make accusations,

and assumptions,

and use those fabrications,

that are all things you have created,

to cut down others,

in an attempt to be some 'hero',

or magnify some pre-judged 'fault',

or frailty,

in another, or in others,

you deserve what karma gives you in return,

and trying to weasel your way out of your own delusion

will be near impossible,

because you never should have violated

an innocent person in that way.


so here is to all of the people,

who think it is their right,

to violate another's privacy,

because in this day and age, 

it is being done without conscience,

without respect,

and in the name of 'for profit' institutions,

by law enforcement personel,

by lawyers,

by ex-wives,




the list goes on and on.


when the world has not one person left,

who has the capability to speak a word of honesty,

because they know they have no privacy,

and tell only lies to keep others from being misunderstood

because they have the decency to know what respect is,

I hope it becomes your hell,

for however long it takes you to wake the hell up,

as you have caused the suffering of many.


i have love for you, 

my sincerity that you survive

the hell you have created

is sincere,

because you are ignorant to insight,

and that is a crime in itself,

and falls on the laps of people who see it unimportant,

but if you indeed have a desire to learn the truth,

it will be found in yourself alone, using the gift of insight.



6:36 PM 6/21/2013 ©

Author's Notes/Comments: 

the truth of honesty in 2013

You get back insincerity from people if that is all you have to give them...and you will never know the truth.

View nightlight1220's Full Portfolio

my ode to whistleblowers

belief system

Whistleblowers whistling like my kettle
Lifting the lid on the sordid and rude
People with power; rug from under
Pyramid scams; power slipping; true

You see, good people haven’t the stomach
To carry out deeds that are wrong
Just who is it that writes the rules?
And who benefits? Not you; be strong

Is it Illegal killing or Dodgy vaccinations
Maybe even crimes against humanity
Pride ensures you stand your ground
You know right from wrong surely?

I know its hard to do, but you have to
Stand up for your rights; humanity
Needs some troops; you: surely?
You have done well in this world

Where others done not so good
Like it or not, you’ve played your part
Others suffered for your livelihood
For sure, payback time: Understood?

Don’t fancy a fight for your life?
Head in sand; eyes in traffic lights
At least try to do some good
Your district, your patch, your hood

Blow the whistle on undoubted wrongs
Or help an old lady across the road
Either will do, intention is good
Shine white light in your Neighbourhood

View dazthedruid's Full Portfolio



...needs not of lawyers,

guns, or money, it is it's own defense.




8:27 PM 5/11/2013 ©

Author's Notes/Comments: 


View nightlight1220's Full Portfolio

Elder Manifesto


The perfect tides of perfect days, how silently they sweep away,

the truth which I have yet to know and honesty that cannot grow.

For hidden in the hearts of men, a secret that we must defend.

That those who are not, cannot be led by those with silence in their head.

But deep within the minds they know, how kindness and truth must too bestow. 


View hgsrthjdrtjrea's Full Portfolio


'Do I know you?' drips black

From pale, abused lips.

Once again, these probing strands

Seek, seek though the answer will never grip.


Eyes peering into nothing,

And filled with wisdom and age,

Time has given itself in abundance

But disregards his rage.


He sees the suits and ties and jewels and although he

Grovels and praises the people Manhattan,

His back is weighed down by a knowledge

That it is distasteful these days, to be the Samaritan.


His coarse hands grope and feel

High in the sky they reach,

For riches and glory claimed by others already

In spite of the danger of impeach.


'Feasts fall from the sky!' he hollers

A mighty gift sent from Faeiries indeed!

Of the curse he knows well enough

Yet his avaricious mouth continues to feed.


So often our women catch him,

With his nose up high and searching

Hungry for-not a meal! they know,

But a satisfying of his red mind, unseeing.


Like a drunken man he becomes

High at the scent of dreaming wine,

He looks happy and content for once but

Nevertheless knows his heart is a maddened line.


Children circle around him taunting

Eyes of coals and blood runned teeth,

He covets even these heartless devils

Even if angels are waiting, just waiting for release.


Sometimes he'd sit at a strangers front porch

Always on a cold November night,

Thinking 'I probably should get to work now'

But alas, his flawed mind will never bite.


Is this a story of a man's hallucinations?

If I tell you “No, you're wrong”,

But is one about humans like you and me,

Would you accept this merely a song?


Or would you take heed my warning

And answer my sad Siren call.

For this is not a matter to be dealt

Separately and to be held carelessly light.


Look back upon ourselves

Are we not like this 'man' here-but do not blame!

Who can say this is a hallucination

When all of us are him, all the same?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Haha, there is the idea of the seven sins, so look for them! :)

Thanks for reading!

View aisangreen123's Full Portfolio