poetry.megocollector.com » July

Woman is the Devil

Paul M. Combs, Jr. — Thu, 03 Oct 2002 19:57:00 +0000

Woman is the devil, this can be disputed
I offer proof that cannot be refuted
No other impact, can one leave on man
Than whence comes into a picture, a woman

Sure, she is capable to bringing peace to a war
Lest not forget that that war brought on by her
Oh certainly she is desired for that of a relationship
In marriage, a girlfriend, or even in friendship

All is calm, before the storm arrives
That storm is she who alters ours lives
Altered to a state of wonderful illusions
Have taken many a men to various institutions

Men have followed their hearts and more so their desire
To be led down a path, too damn close to the fire
A woman knows what it takes to bring down a man
Follow it through and then take them up again

We are nothing more than puppets to the puppeteer
As every woman holds in their bag of tricks things men hold dear
We are offered comfort, companionship, and desires fulfilled
Any caution we hold is thrown to the wind

Even in situations where we know the prudent choice of action
We tend to follow the lead of the woman in moments of passion
We tend to believe that we control our destiny
Therein lays our mistake as we don’t and that’s the reality

Women come in all shapes, sizes, and shades
All hold their certain appeal, on some plain
Many fall to less than desirable
And then there are those who appear as an angel

It really doesn’t matter how a woman appears
When it comes to bringing down man and this is sincere
Though the woman is the devil, I cannot resist
As I am a warm blooded male with no defenses

Really, I wouldn’t have it any other way
Without the woman, there really is nothing

Vanity

Paul M. Combs, Jr. — Sat, 17 Aug 2002 19:51:00 +0000

Once there was such a request
To write a poem of my ability at best
Of a coconut to which I derived
A man on an island a woman no longer survived
Once I was asked to write of a watermelon
A story conjured of actions almost to those of a felon
Where is it do these words have I drawn
At times I don’t even know, sometimes flow like a song
Well, for those whom haven’t the faith in what I have to write
I have something for you well written, chosen, for you tonight
Quickly, take a second and read what there is to follow
It is important, don’t blink, it is far less than mellow
I am the best that there has ever been before me
Just wait and see and look for more of my poetry
I can write on the spot without even a moments notice
I can write all night long, and allow the words do thy justice
But more important than all that has been written
I do this for you, these words I offer, to whom they are given

Measurement

Paul M. Combs, Jr. — Wed, 07 Aug 2002 19:50:00 +0000

The barometer by which we are measured
The sum of all parts that have been gathered
May only be known as the Day of Judgment

Through this journey of life and by how we have lived
To pray that we have done more good than had sinned
Not that there need be a balance for atonement

For it is not in the sum of those actions
It is in the acceptance of Jesus in whole and not a fraction
And of course, to whom, we must repent

So in this life and in this time on Earth
From the moment we are born to our rebirth
One can only pray to be ready for the Day of Judgment

The Winning Poem

Paul M. Combs, Jr. — Tue, 09 Jul 2002 19:47:00 +0000

If there be a time to write such a prose
It would be now, I do suppose

An award winning piece for all to read
This only a sample, only a seed

I offer many wonderful works to display
Certainly, not now, not today

Perhaps if there is such an interest
Then such an offering, I couldn’t resist

I am an unknown ready to be discovered
So I offer this piece from which I uncovered

From the depths of my mind and to the hand
Flowed these words upon my command

Second Place

Paul M. Combs, Jr. — Tue, 09 Jul 2002 19:47:00 +0000

It wasn’t that long before I last wrote
A winning poem for you to vote
To be pretentious and claim that this verse
To be best of and even that of first
That title be held by an earlier submission
This only a little prose for intermission
Expect there to be more on the way
As I have been writing day after day
None other prose is as these
Do forgive me, I beg you please
Just having fun with nothing else to do
I have more substantial lines to offer you
Have a great day and thank you for reading
Until next time and another evening

Who Am I?

Paul M. Combs, Jr. — Mon, 01 Jul 2002 09:58:00 +0000

I am full of love, yet empty.
I am smiling, and yet not happy.
I am stagnant, and yet ever moving.

I am of this world, yet alone.
I am the life of the party, and have no home.
I am a warm heart, yet it of stone.

I am discreet, yet too open.

I am who which I am.
I am all that I have ever been.
I am an enigma and a chameleon.

I really don’t know who I am.

Friendship and Post Mortem Depression (Part II)

Paul M. Combs, Jr. — Mon, 01 Jul 2002 09:57:00 +0000

On you this is of no reflection
I write this with the greatest of in trepidation

For me the seduction was part of the chase
That moment relived day after day

When I see in you joy that we bring together
I enjoyed, too, our moments of candor

It has been long since I have had reason to be
You certainly stirred reason for that within me

You gave me reason to enjoy each new day
Though there are nights alone wherever I stay

I miss that magic that stirred through the air
Whenever we both knew that the time would be near

Honesty from the start is what we had planned
Such came from the heart as it wrote by the hand

It was too late; I already had made the decline
Deeper in love without even trying

Early, I read into those words that you had written
Far much more than you may have wanted to have given.
Friendship and Post Mortem Depression (Part II)

Friendship and Post Mortem Depression (Part I)

Paul M. Combs, Jr. — Mon, 01 Jul 2002 09:56:00 +0000

Early, I read into those words that you had written
Far much more than you may have wanted to have given.
I hope that somehow, the time that we had spent together
Means as much to you, as I will always treasure.
I know that in comparison, I am unable to compete
No matter what can be said, I can never make you complete.
A curse that I have is that I think too often
I twist things around so that the hardness begins to soften.
In the earliest of days of what is discovery
My heart had pounded so without recovery
I felt the anticipation within you as our hearts had collided
However, as of late, I feel that desire has resided.
The passionate kisses had rained on my heart as in an ocean
I struggle to get by on just one as if there was reason for caution.
For the collision of our bodies, we had longed so hard
The flame of those yesterdays seems extinguished and charred.
I don’t know what had changed to make things as they are
I had thought our discovery would have been wide and far
I have a tendency to hold on too strong with a mighty grip
I was able to taste you with that gentle and sweet sip
I hope that in some way I have impacted your life
As for you, you have me, hard – in all that you do like a knife.
Before you grow tired of me in my simple ways
I hope you continue to think of me on some future day.
A friend you were before that fatal day
A friend I am in my devoted and faithful way.
I believe the word friend has much connotation
So vast and so we were sent in different directions
It was up to that word; that all we did we did not hesitate
It was up to that word; that within me all was great
When friendship was introduced in our course of discussion
That seemed to affect all course of action.
I have written words of endearment and those of affection
All those things hold true as they were written
I have written that words are whom I am and make me
In such words I mask those so important deficiencies
I can allure with sweet suggest in prose
I can do far more than simply compose
I can charm through wondrous conversation
With such bring out the very best of a woman
It is through those trials of a relationship
That immediately has some jump from port and from ship to ship.
It wasn’t the moment that friendship was introduced
It really was the moment that we were seduced

Another memory

Paul M. Combs, Jr. — Thu, 27 Jun 2002 19:46:00 +0000

Your words are a constant echo in my heart
Your touch I have longed for from the start
Your smile has given me reason for pause
Your drink, we shall share with our straws