Roses Have Thorns Poetry by Joe Lowrey

How miraculously that our two roads finally crossed.
Without you, my life would have continued lonely and lost.
What do I owe to you for happiness such as this?
Perhaps I could trade you a poem for a kiss.

It is not that I have never been happy before,
but that it didn't last long and I always wanted more.
With you, though, my life is finally made complete,
a challenge for others that have always ended in defeat.

There was a time when I thought that my heart would never mend.
In my greatest moments of despair, I searched and found no friend.
I was convinced that I was doomed to a life of unhappiness,
another victim forced into unfulfilled relationships.

I was afraid that spring would never come.
That this seed would never see the light of the sun.
Like a caterpillar in a cocoon waiting to be reborn,
I was afraid that I would never be transformed.

But you have made me into the butterfly that I wished.
Your love fills me with a cup as vast as an abyss.
There is so much I want to give to you, but first I offer this-
perhaps you would be willing to trade me a poem for a kiss.

It was just a dream
or just an empty thought,
but all this time I have fought-
for a dream.

It was just a lie
or just a simple untruth,
but I have lived my youth-
for a lie.

It was just a tear
or just a hurt feeling,
but was love worth stealing-
for a tear?

I want to make a statement,
yet I don't know what to say.
Around me the world is dying,
but all they tell me is
"Have a nice day."

As I watch the world continue turning
and crosses that continue burning,
I wonder if his words
"I have a dream."
still apply today.

I can't accept the words of men
that lie and deceive,
that base their lives on
"Blame is better to give
than to receive."

As I watch religion continue falling
and the voices of the hungry continue calling,
I wonder if I can have faith
in the words
"You have to believe."

All the hate in this world
I can't understand.
The poor man is left dying
while all they do
is take from his hand.

As I watch the bombs continue exploding
and cling to prayers we continue holding,
I wonder if there is truth
in the words
"Love your fellow man."

"The world's in need of love today,
because all too soon it will be on it's way."(1)And no matter how little you intend to do,
nothing less than love will get us through.
So, let's begin between me and you.

In a world where knights seldom roam,
children in dark alleys live alone,
rapists steal our wives from their homes,
and life has become a melody of disasters,
there's no point in believing in happily ever after.

As we stumble through another Dark Age,
judge ourselves by the wars we wage,
where innocence, love, and laughter exit stage,
and a band-aid can no longer hide the pain,
I see a world where the meek no longer reign.

Look at where we're going.
Look at where we've been.
An ounce of good deeds.
A pound of mortal sin.
Look again-
at homicide, genocide,
destruction of the human race-
humancide.

In a world where smog hides a sunset,
sex is a game of Russian roulette,
and love is a toss between a blonde and brunette,
we live among wolves in sheep's disguise;
we have learned not to love but to despise;
every truth is nothing more than a well-told lie;
with black water our children are baptized.

I can hide what I'm feeling,
but I can't stop what I'm feeling.
I can pretend that I am whole inside
even though I am empty inside.
I might convince you
that I don't need you,
but I can't convince myself.
They tell me that there is more to life
and that I can find more to life
without you,
but they do not know
what my life was with you
and what little my life is now-
now that I am without you.
How can I learn to love someone else
when I haven't stopped loving you?

When I look into your deep blue eyes,
I am mesmerized by their beauty-
these vast oceans that I long to swim in.
Your hair is the color of wheat fields.
Like a child racing through the open prairie,
I long to run my fingers through your hair.

There is more than love to be found here.
Even the fountain of youth
or the arrow of Cupid
cannot compare to this beauty.
I am drawn to you like a magnet to metal.
Each night without you is not spent in vain,
because I hold you in my heart
as I wait to hold you in my arms.

All my life I have been nothing more than a caterpillar
longing to become a butterfly.
With you, I am a butterfly.

As I reach for a handful of roses,
I find too late the thorns I've chosen.
As I run through the pouring rain-
I find I'm only a fool, a kiss for pain.

Shedding memories along with the tears;
Hiding in my sacred womb to comfort my fears.
What have I accomplished? What have I gained?
...a lie for every truth, a kiss for pain.

Oh, have you seen my masterpiece...
a marble statue of beauty and beast.
It represents the scars in reign,
of what I have become, a kiss for pain.

Friends and faces fading away;
Living my life as it slowly decays.
I was hoping you could change me-
Isn't that why you came?
...to exchange my kisses...a kiss for pain.

Right now
as we speak
there are children, homeless and hungry,
lying in our gutters,
dying in our gutters.
We try to ignore their pain and sorrow
by drowning ours
at the bottom of an empty glass
down at our local bars.

Right now
as we drink
there are dreamers who've lost their dreams,
there are children losing their innocence
without their will
to deranged fathers and uncles and friends
more lowly than Judas himself,
as we close our doors and wait
for the truth to go away.

Right now
as we laugh
there are battered wives crying,
there are the poor who don't want charity
but only a chance,
while all we do is throw them pennies.
We must feed the hungry with an open hand,
not a closed fist,
not by walking over them
as we climb to the top.

I need a miracle to convince me
that God hasn't turned his back on us.
Is this the loving God
who has forgotten how to love?
Is this the loving God
that we have fought so many wars over?
Where is this loving God?
I want to believe.
I need to believe.
But I don't know if I really do.
Is this just another fairytale,
along with Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny,
that I believe
only because I was told to believe?

Right now
as we pray
there are evangelists committing sins
as they preach to give them more money
in the name of God.
I can feel the fingers of mankind
slowly losing grip with the Hand of the Lord.

Is this the way that the world ends?
Is our God running scared
or just watching and laughing?
We need You.
We need You now.
"I don't want to die tonight."¹

The white misty haze across a blue ocean sky
has turned to gray.
A blazing orange sunset resting on the horizon
has slipped into the dark depths of night.
The silk white unicorn
that once roamed the prairies of imagination
has finally slipped into reality-
only to be struck by a passing car.

The simple words that would flow softly with rhyme
have hit the hard rocks of reality
and broken to oblivion.
The mirror has been cracked;
the shell has been broken by the truth.

The forest on the hill
that once held our curiosity
now has given way to technology.
The generations leave no traces,

The songs that once had deep meaning
have begun to show shallowness.
You no longer depend on these songs
to answer your questions of life;
the source is now statistics
and paperback facts.

You have changed.
You have aged.
You never dream.
You never love-
so you never hurt.

Thank you for opening my eyes.
Didn't you ever stop to think
that I had them closed for a reason?
I'm tired of searching for something
that I'll never find.
I'm tired of crying at night
because I care too much.
I'm tired of realizing that I'm alone
when I can stand in a crowded room
full of empty, faceless people
with a drink in my hand
and pretend that I'm wanted
by a needing crowd.

I know the feeling of a broken heart.
I know how it feels to care for someone
who doesn't care for me.
I know how too many memories
can flood me
and drown me.

I've drowned many times before
when all I had to do to stop drowning
was stop thinking, stop remembering.

So, thank you for opening my eyes.
You've helped me to see something
that I've known all along
but was trying to forget:

The fruit of life and death
for which I have been nourished from.
Society tells me that I have sinned,
that eternal hell-fire is my fate,
that I will never be forgiven
because I have been fed
the knowledge of us all.

I will admit
it tasted quite pleasant.
No place have I found a fruit
sweet as such
yet bitter as well.
The sweetness of purity;
the bitterness of evil.
Both seem to balance out each other.

I can no longer be the messiah to your sins,
nor lead you to places where I have never been.
For on the cross the truth will stand.
Death shall prove that I am only a man.

How can you judge a book by it's cover?
To say that my sins stand alone with no others?
No matter how deep a wound can be,
it shows proof that it will always bleed.

So damn your morals, your prejudice pride
because in the end no one can hide.
Damn your sins where judgment dwells.
Because sin for sin- we're all damned to hell.

I can only fake a kill so many times
until I will have to kill
in order to hide my true identity.

I use to swim the deep ocean,
but now I drown in shallow water.
I use to cry for the world,
but now I only laugh at it.
I use to dream of rainbows and sunsets,
but now I dream of power and money.
I use to be an innocent boy,
but now I am a man.

I've been lighting fire to my bridges
hoping that I will never have to cross them again
because I have finally found the bridge
leading me in the direction
that I have so long sought.

I can see the light at the end of the tunnel
becoming brighter and brighter as I approach it.
It's been a long travel down this dark cavern,
but soon I will no longer
have to travel in darkness.
Winter has finally turned to spring.

I don't want to fall in love again.
The last time I was so deep that I almost drowned.
I can't survive another broken heart.
I've already had two
and the third might kill me.

Why do my emotions run so deep?
Life would be so simple
if I were content to swim in the shallow water,
but instead I desire the deep dive.

I'm afraid that I am the last
of the melancholy dreamers
who are lovers of sunsets
and victims of broken hearts.

I accept the fact of what I am
and I really don't mind crying.
I only wish that I didn't have to cry
alone.

Each sunset is followed by a sunrise.
The night cannot last forever.
Although my sleep is disrupted by nightmares,
I know that the morning will soon rescue me.
I am only a prisoner of time.

Each winter is followed by spring.
All the flowers that have wilted and died
have left their seeds beneath the soil
waiting to be reborn again.
Although I can see the autumn leaves beginning to fall,
I don't worry myself with the coming of winter
because waiting for me come April
is a reason to believe.
I am only a prisoner of time.

Each rainfall is followed by sunshine.
The winds will calm after the storm has passed.
I am not afraid of what destruction the hurricane may bring,
because I know that I will have a chance to rebuild.
I am only a prisoner of time.

I have come to accept my destiny,
because following the tears
will be a reason to laugh once again.
But there is one thing that I must know:

My poems were special
because they contained my innocence.
But now that I am no longer innocent,
my poems are no longer special.

I want to continue writing
but both my emotions and pen have run dry,
and the inspirations don't come as often-
if not at all.

I want to go back to the way it use to be,
to know the feeling of being in love,
to know the feeling of a broken heart,
because now I am too cold to feel either.

I want to share sunsets and rainbows,
race through the open fields,
make love beneath the stars.
I want to be able to dream again.

But I realize where I am
and where I'm not.
I can never again have the innocence
that made my poetry special,
nor can an old man
ever again be a child.

I am rarely inspired
and when I am, I'm normally too busy
to transform thoughts into verse.

So, I'm forced to fake the inspiration.
(Can't you tell?)
I have to fake the depression and pain,
pretend that I am insane
when I'm really as normal as my neighbors.
I really don't have suicidal tendencies
or drug-related dependencies.
I have never lived through the hell
that I often show and tell
with words that rarely rhyme.
It's funny that they seem to be rhyming
this time.

I never had a mother who beat me
or women that I loved who would cheat me.
I never had a brother who would hit me
or a life that would shit on me.

And when I wrote of rainy days
it was actually sunny.
And when I wrote of lonely nights
I was in a crowd
in a room full of lights.

Do you feel betrayed?
Betrayed that this was all a lie
and that I would rather live than to die.
Betrayed that when you finally thought
that you found someone who understood-
that he was only a man who would
rather laugh
than to cry.

Well, I hope that it doesn't come to your surprise
that all this time I wore a melancholy disguise
to hide the truth and
to lie about my youth.

Because it's not my fault
that I'm rarely inspired
and when I am, I'm normally too busy
to transform thoughts into verse-

I peer outside and watch them play
And wish to return to a better day,
Back when I was allowed to participate,
Instead of now when my heart only aches,
Back before I became trapped at home,
Back before I became trapped in the Comfort Zone.

There is danger when you are near to me-
The consequences of losing everything dear to me.
I need something for this seven-year itch
Before into this cog of life, I toss this wrench.
Whether it’s for love or the fear of being alone,
I find myself trapped in the Comfort Zone.

A dog has got to bury his bone.
A sailor has to sail away from home.
A farmer has more seeds to be sown.
A tamed lion longs to roam.
Like a caged bird-
I find myself trapped in the Comfort Zone.

Like water passing through my fingers
I feel this life slipping away.
The memory of failed opportunities still linger
While I feel this love slowly decay.
If only again I could be free to roam.
If only I could escape this Comfort Zone.

I peer outside and watch them play,
But realize there can be no other way.
I am content to stay where I am,
Because there is honor among us damned.
I’ll just stay here in the security of my home
And only dream of life beyond the Comfort Zone.

Words,
bearer of my demon,
confession of my sin-
haunt my mortal existence,
strip me of solace,
drown me in fear.
I'm falling,
falling downward,
spiraling downward to my death.

A bird
with clipped wings,
desperately flapping his feathers,
cannot fly.
Oh, I beg to fly,
to turn from this horror,
direct me to the light,
Light of God,
to cleanse my body,
to wipe away the sin.

Words,
stripped of rhyme,
raped of thought;
burning fire,
emotions consumed,
desire rampant;
I cannot hide the truth.
It is slowly taking root,
sprouting to the surface;
it's fruit will be seen.
You will see.

Words,
bearer of my demon,
confession of my sin,
but without a key
the door does not open.

Let me hide it in my attic,
far from curious eyes.
This sinful lie
is locked away for now.

I fear that the wrong words
will somehow be spoken,
too soon,
during a fragile moment,
setting free
the spiral death.

I have never been this fluent in feeling.
I have never lacked this much despair.
This love of yours is worth stealing.
How much more do you have to spare?

Can I trade you a poem for a kiss?
I need this pleasure to comfort my pain.
Each action you take is a great abyss.
The throne of my heart is for you to reign.

I quiver each time you touch me.
I melt each time you draw me near.
You drown me in an emotional sea.
No more must this ocean I fear.

I want the love from no other.
It is your love that gives me life.
Let me be your only lover.
Oh, will you be my only wife?

I'm falling in love,
but don't be afraid.
I've done this once before.
And if by chance you don't feel
exactly the way that I feel,
well, I'll still have my heart to give.
Whether you choose to love it or break it,
I want you to know
that you got it pumping again,
and that alone is enough to thank you.

our very first kiss
in that busy New York subway,
with you in your yellow dress
and your soft crimson lips pressed against mine,
the sweet smell of your perfume in the air,
your body pressed tightly against mine,
the electricity of my hand touching yours,
closing my eyes and seeing stars.
A brief moment in time
and a memory that will never fade away.

I would cry at the drop of a pen,
back in the days when my heart wouldn’t mend,
surrounded by strangers, empty of friends,
I remember when.

as a dreamer I took a solemn vow
to dream of tomorrow, and forget about the now,
but one day I grew up and threw in the towel,
I remember how.

the feelings of despair as my dreams began to rot,
of the morals I sold and the sins I bought,
of the chances I missed and the fate I caught,
I remember what.

I hid my skeletons, covered them with lies,
hid my pain beneath this disguise,
abandoned my soul when I heard it cry,
killed the dreamer and left him to die,

He stares at you, but not in a fatherly way.
Since your birth, he began his moral decay.
Maybe, he has always been this way.

The room is dark with the blinds pulled down.
He tells you not to make a sound.
You call for mom, but she isn’t around.

You want to scream, “Don’t do this to me, dad.”
But you know it will only make him mad.
So you cry and pretend that it’s not so bad.

One day you hope this will all end.
Scars may heal, but the heart never mends.
Where’s mom when you need a friend?

She stares at you, but not in a motherly way.
You know she blames you for his decay.
Maybe, she knew he was always that way.

Within my soul he lived inside
And flooded me with words of rhyme.
I didn’t think to question why
The day the dreamer died.

I ignored the chance to say goodbye.
His hand did slip. I did not try.
My life did change. I can’t deny
The day the dreamer died.

The end I sensed. I did not pry.
The bond of brothers I did untie.
I killed the truth and began the lie
The day the dreamer died.

I lost the rhyme. The ink did dry.
I held my tears and did not cry.
We didn’t sing “American Pie”
The day the dreamer died.

Lip-to-lip becomes lip-to-cheek
as you race out the door to go to work.
The bed becomes a place to sleep,
and nothing more.

Daytime abuses and nighttime excuses
are the reasons for the chill.
Like the coming of winter,
it was inevitable.

Sons of Abraham

Sons of Abraham.
Sibling rivalry.
Fathers of nations –
bonded
only by history.

Generations
stained by wars.
Two Gods,
one in the same,
brothers willing to die for.

Race through time –
an eagle soars.
Upon the wings of liberty
one brother loved,
one ignored.

Ishmael and the dragon
unite,
scheme to bring down
David’s star
and the eagle’s flight.

The Son of Man –
they hope to eclipse.
War raged
in his birthplace –
The Apocalypse.

Brother against brother,
nation against nation.
Cut off the head to spite the nose –
a parable to
world annihilation.

In the end –
before all is left to burn,
a new hope, a new life –
Christ,
King of Kings returns.

Upon the earth –
a thousand year reign,
of love and peace
without war
and without pain.

It starts with passion but ends with pain.
It starts with sunshine but ends with rain.
It starts with spring but ends with winter.
It starts with blossom but ends with wither.
It starts with happiness but ends with misery.

"It is only with the heart that one can see rightly.
What is essential is invisible to the eye."

A Poem for a Kiss	For a Tear	In Need Of Love
Black Water	I Can Hide What I'm Feeling	With You, I Am A Butterfly
A Kiss For Pain	Right Now	Sunset
Thank You For Opening My Eyes	Bitter-Sweet Sin	A Sin Is A Sin
I Am Among Wolves	Now I Am A Man	I Am A Poet
This Is Destiny	I Accept The Fact	Prisoner Of Time
My Poems Were Special	I Am Rarely Inspired	Comfort Zone
Poetic Confessions	I Have Never Been This Fluent In Feeling	I'm Falling In Love
Innocence Was	I Remember	Family Demons
The Day the Dreamer Died	Lip to Cheek	Sons of Abraham
Love Life Lost