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#78864 - 04/11/06 06:01 AM A poem for Passion Week **TRGGERS**
Derdlecar Offline
Member
MaleSurvivor

Registered: 11/08/05
Posts: 1314
Loc: Ogden Utah, USA
I am putting this here because it is a poem, I suppose it could also go in Spirituality, just be aware of that fact if you choose to read on. Also there are things that could be triggering to some. I don't often write poetry but here it is.

I Cannot Tip the Bottom Up

I cannot tip the bottom up;
I cannot drink this poison cup.
Now if you only knew
The venom in the brew
You’d shake with fear;
You’d shed a tear.

Life has filled my chalice,
My heart, full of malice.
Please listen to my voice
It never was my choice.
The verdict is unjust.
But drink this cup, I must.

The way I’ve got it figured,
If you knew, you’d be triggered.
To my cup was added gall
When I was so very small
But fate, as always, begs
That I drink to the dregs.

He came; he stole joy
Gave feelings that annoy.
Filled my cup with bitterness,
Such undeserved severeness.
Took my smile, made me cry,
Made me wish I'd rather die.

I did not ask to have it done,
This ugly dark’ning of the sun,
When he came to me in trespass,
His horrid pecker up my ass.
That is the rancor in my cup;
I dare not tip the bottom up.

____________________


One day, a man came my way
With very strange words to say.
Is your life cup filled with dread?
Drink this one of mine instead.
It will make you feel better,
The cup I give is not bitter.

Who are you, my cup to take?
You must be some kind of fake.
Why should I ever trust you?
I know what you’d have me do.
You’re like the rest of them;
Make me bare my ass again.

Give me your cup so vile.
My cup will make you smile.
My cup will soothe your pain.
And give you peace again.
My brew is the best.
‘Twill give you sweet rest.

What is it that you want?
To my shame, will you taunt?
You’d crush this heart of mine.
On my flesh you would dine.
Chew me up and spit me out.
Isn’t that what life’s about?

Just give me your cup of brine;
I’ll give to you my sweet wine.
Now, this is no ploy
My wine restores joy.
It will give you a fresh start
And bring new peace to your heart.

Are you sure you want to trade?
‘Cause, this ain’t no lemonade.
Besides, what is it that you think?
To tip the bottom up and drink?
Yea, That’ll be the day!
You drink my cup? No way!

That’s exactly what I think;
Tip the bottom up and Drink.
There is no need for you to cry;
No need for you to drink and die.
I will tip the bottom up;
I will drink your deadly cup.

Why would you do such a thing,
And cause yourself so much pain?
“It was I who gave you life,
I shall drink your cup of strife.
Now there is no other way,
For your freedom I will pay.

You did not ask to have it done,
This ugly dark’ning of the sun.
So I will tip the bottom up.
I will drink your poison cup.
I will bring you safely home,
In darkness, no need to roam.

I can heal your every pain
Give you joy and peace again.
So sit right down in the shade
And drink my sweet lemonaid.
Go ahead; tip the bottom up.
Drink from my never empty cup.

_________________________
If a man would get his life on track, he must first go back to the place where it was derailed.

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#78865 - 04/11/06 10:20 AM Re: A poem for Passion Week **TRGGERS**
reality2k4 Offline
Member
MaleSurvivor

Registered: 07/06/04
Posts: 6838
Loc: Stuck between water, air, and ...
Derdle,

a dark poem indeed, fitting for the week of Easter, and all the passion that it enshrines.
The poisoned chalice is one we must all share.
A common cup of poison and fears.

Now your cup overflows with milk and honey.
The one you share in life today, with all you meet along the way,

cheers,

ste

_________________________
Whoever stole the Sun, put it back and we'll drop all the charges!

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#78866 - 04/11/06 04:31 PM Re: A poem for Passion Week **TRGGERS**
roadrunner Offline
Administrator Emeritus
MaleSurvivor

Registered: 05/02/05
Posts: 22045
Loc: Carlisle, PA
Derdle,

That's a powerful poem. I hope writing it was as helpful to you as it is for me to read it.

Much love,
Larry

_________________________
Nobody living can ever stop me
As I go walking my freedom highway.
Nobody living can make me turn back:
This land was made for you and me.
(Woody Guthrie)

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