Wreaking Ball

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If my hands could make my dreams
I'd build this world up tall and sleek
with fields so broad with food to eat
and happy people in the street
with sun to shine and rain to fall
and all I have is a wrecking ball

I'd take this anger angst and pain
and lift it from the dusty plane
and stack myself a mountain steep
of outrage all my own to keep
and if my hands could make my dreams
delights would grow for one and all
but all I have is a wrecking ball

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@Fido,

Once our eyes were opened wide we saw the godly were denied,
The sweetest fruits poured on our pride - the taste too pleasing to deny.
Bitter bite enraged with fright our chains and plight betrayed delight,
Removed and shunned, our wills undone the thrill unfilled the prize un-won.
Remarked and darkened waist replace the sun remake and come,
The love remains and chains still brake and fade with finite strength.
God begs us come, drown out the doubt that tells you what it's all about,
Cause empty is the chain, just like a game, or thrill, no fill remains,
And only pain, one hour of fun and then your done and left with just the same.
But faith believes and frees no matter what our eyes may say
The fruit is still the same
And tastes the same
And kills the same
And lies the same
For only trusting God can save and cause us to remain
In lands that keep us next to Him where sin can never win
For God will never change.

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@Casualty,

Just because I write rhyme doesn't make my sun shine.

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@Fido,

I hate the sun,
I hate the ocean,
I hate the very best.
I hate Your glory,
I hate devotion,
I hate this bitter test.
We fought till tears had streamed the eyes too weak to see the day,
I gave my heart to do Your Will but it got in the way.
I hate my hopes,
I hate my dreams,
I hate Your gentle nudge.
I hate my joy,
I hate my peace,
I hate the way You love.
And all is tears for all my fears are coming to me true,
But through the while You sigh and smile -all want replaced by You.
Justice mocks and locks my hands full measure in their pace,
The way I am will testify -my lamp torn from its place.
It is the way I am -but hope, the Lamb has paid for man-
Though some may stand and shine most brilliantly...
There are those who's ending sad
-Denied-
For all their clever masks
-They died-
Choosing death on the inside,
Like me.

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@Fido,

I live I hate I sate I late for whait?

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@Fido,

Fido wrote:

If my hands could make my dreams
I'd build this world up tall and sleek
with fields so broad with food to eat
and happy people in the street
with sun to shine and rain to fall
and all I have is a wrecking ball

I'd take this anger angst and pain
and lift it from the dusty plane
and stack myself a mountain steep
of outrage all my own to keep
and if my hands could make my dreams
delights would grow for one and all
but all I have is a wrecking ball

I like this poem. Good rhyme and rhythm, and very nice use of repetition--e.g., the lines "if my hands could make my dreams," and "all i have is a wrecking ball." The ironic contrast between "making" and "wrecking" (not just in the words themselves but in the imagery of the entire poem) creates a very poetic tension.

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@saiboimushi,

saiboimushi wrote:

I like this poem. Good rhyme and rhythm, and very nice use of repetition--e.g., the lines "if my hands could make my dreams," and "all i have is a wrecking ball." The ironic contrast between "making" and "wrecking" (not just in the words themselves but in the imagery of the entire poem) creates a very poetic tension.

Thank you. I spent the best part of fifteen minutes writing it. I wonder what I might write if I could make poetry mean something to me. It is likely better this way. Get a cramp. Blast em out and forget them just a quickly.

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@Fido,

Sorry... lol. Smile

My wrecking ball is so cool
Tantamount to a creative fool,
But given something big enough
It can crack n' chip to make new stuff.

Lets here it for subtractive synthesis.

Dan.

1 Reply

@de budding,

de budding wrote:

Sorry... lol.

My wrecking ball is so cool
Tantamount to a creative fool,
But given something big enough
It can crack n' chip to make new stuff.

Lets here it for subtractive synthesis.

Dan.

Did I write that??? I should have been a poet... I can **** that sort of stuff out so fast it would make you spin, but it does not mean enough to me to remember... All I need is a keyboard and an idea...

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Wreaking Ball

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