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Featured Poetry: Week of Sunday, February 07, 2016

Below are PoetrySoup's  featured poems of the week. Cratulations to our featured poets. Poems are rotated each day in groups of 14-18 to give each poem an equal opportunity to be displayed. Those who post a lot of poetry and actively comment on the poetry of others are more likely to have their poetry featured. The only guaranteed way to be featured is to become a Premium Member.

Click on the numbered navigation below to navigate though all of the featured poetry.


you carve your words precisely 
like a master does a flawless diamond
infuse your images on the head of a pin
not a letter wasted 

you who
speaks from deeper within 
with every new write

never one or one hundred reads suffices
each new recite reveals something new
grabs the readers heart 
and we the better for it

you are the poet writes 
like the brush of Van Gogh 
his emotions vibrant in every stroke
every painting a work of genius

in your poetry 
we find that pearl
hidden too deep for the diver 
now opened and revealed 
blinded by its light we see
what was once previously 

like the gentle prophet 
you sew and lay a carpet
that sensitizes us 
from the very bottom of our awareness 
to the peak of our understanding 

it is LOVE that enshrines your words
the fabled unicorn 
the fortunate 
that by your cause 
our childhood dreams 
DO exist

september 29 2015

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2015

More featured poems below...

Shirlene's Three Days Written: by Tom Wright A calm has come amidst a storm At last, at last, I've finally found. Peace came to me, as bees to swarm As fleas to an aging old hound. My burden scale reads faint to lifted Your sails are trimmed and course set true. Sad thoughts of you though oft I've sifted Have vanished like this mornings dew. Unpleasant memories I've interred deep Beyond my intellect bell's faint tingle. No more into my psyche dare they creep Or with my pleasant thoughts to mingle. But you haven't moved from our space You'll always be foremost on our minds. And in our heart's your special place Is still filled with a Godly love that binds. So when your life seems less up than down View those days as just another life test. Paste on a smile and chase that frown And seek God's help to just do your best.

Copyright © Tom Wright | Year Posted 2008

recently I was very sick very sick and found out to not worry about things of no importance
__________________________ August 8, 2012 For the contest Shardoma Style Sponsored by Kim Merryman Third Place Featured Poem, Week of February 8, 2016

Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2012

Art, a world of splendor, Calliopes of sight and sound, That stimulate our senses, Expressing life profound. Art, is visual texture, Space, shapes, and colored lines, Its tones and measured values, Of every imaginable kind. Art, is Michelangelo, And his Creation at Sistine, Kandinsky at the Guggenheim, Pablo Picasso at fifteen. Art, is melodic singing, An opera at the Met, Or orchestrated performance, Of audible storytelling silhouettes. Art, is Sarah Brightman, With Bocelli accompanied, The New York Philharmonic, Woodwind, brass, and tenor strings. Art, is famous people and places, Resonating with artistic flair, Paris, Rome, Broadway, and London, Ginger Rogers, and Fred Astaire. Art, is how history captures, A nation’s cultural appeal, Toward things a people value most, Its morals, ethics, and ideals. Dedicated to my Artist Daughter Courtney Gorman

Copyright © Michael Wegman | Year Posted 2014

      My Pain

My pain is so intense
just can’t describe how much it hurts
the burning cutting deep
the knife twisting turning
pushing further inside

The tears keep flowing
a torrid river
rolling faster
slowly drowning me
can’t escape this pain

Stuck unable to move
but must push forward
carry on fighting
to find a way
to reach the top	

No matter how hard
continue climbing 
no time to stop
don’t give in
THEY will not win

My pain will never go
until the day
this battle is won
got to stay strong
one day my pain will fade

Copyright © Gail Underwood | Year Posted 2015

Its inexorably time
To write my final rhyme
Im waiting in line
As life passes me by
These dozens of people
Walk to their own beat
But nobody sees
What's waiting for me
Like sheep of a flock
Their blind to the end
An undeniable truth
A despicable trend
We all wait just the same
As these lines in my brain
Keep me from going insane
If life was so great
And to live is a gift
Then why are we a sift
Amongst this mist?
There is no order
Or nothing to stop them
No sign of relent
No traces were human
No desire for better
Just pieces of matter
That decides our future
Id stand up if i could
But that would mean ive been sorted
Just two more minutes
And then ill be boarding.

Copyright © Criss Tripp | Year Posted 2015

The Rage of Mother Earth
(Warning those who destroy HER)

You, unfeeling creatures
Who call yourselves Human,

You, fleeting bubbles of reason,
Accidental parasites of time,

You, filthy microbes of cancer,
Ephemera of invincible eternity,

You, who try to fill your vanity
With abominable crimes,

You, insensible butchers of animals,
Notorious destroyers of pastures,

You, contaminators of oceans,
Deleterious polluters of rivers,

You, menacing beings of harmony,
Transgressors of universal laws,

You, who deliberately have put Me
Through the tormenting agony of dying
By strewing your treacherous dark web
Of your unworthy ambitions, all over my face
Shadowing my generous fertility
And rendering me sterile,

For the time will come for you
To feel my wrath and my fury
Boiling lava over you
To flow every day,

Kneel, you tiny mortal beings
In front of the immortal cosmos  
For the shiny heavy sword
Of universal justice,
Punisher of transgressions
Guardian of the eternal laws,
Over your thoughtless heads to fall
With vengeance and rage
Decapitating the most of you
And those who would survive
Will feel the torturing pain
In their hearts
For thousands of years!

© Demetrios Trifiatis

Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis | Year Posted 2012

Should I take notice of what others say
and lose my style along the way.
I didn't study painting lest it disrupt
my innocent approach and method corrupt.

I must step back and take a break
because I'm trying too hard to make
that perfect poem to fit the job.
A contest is judged; my poem's been robbed!

As my life's blood flows from my pen,
I must, selectively, choose how and when
to put my poems before my peers.
Perhaps, I need to wait some years.

Should I leave my poems to be published after death?
Could they catch on when I've drawn my last breath?
Many an artist has passed without note.
It's possible they'll say, "that's all she wrote".

November 27, 2015

Copyright © Janece Terry | Year Posted 2015

angel wings

With every breath I take my body aches, 
When I lie in bed I feel my insides hurting.
With every reminder brings me pain.
No more can I find comfort in my home, 
The cries of babies stains my mind. 
I'm trying my best, 
But of course from day to day hour to hour,
I find myself crying. 
Memories that morning come to me every day, 
Nurses surrounding me my doctor getting on her knees,
Her head looking down, 
The thoughts that ran through my mind.
My life entering a new course, 
One full of grieving. 
He had my face,
My son,  my beautiful angel. 
He's watching me now,
He left me in tears but he is in my heart.

Copyright © Royal T. | Year Posted 2013

Hymn to Pan

Before Morocco was Roman, you see,
the music of Pan was African jazz.

At the Wednesday night prayer meeting
the percussion discussion of Mingus goes on,
getting' all jumpy and sweaty inside.
This is the time of the passionate stranger,
of bullfights and trumpets, of magic and lust.
You should see that goat high steppin'
playin' his pipes for centaurs and satyrs
while rivers of wine and buckets of beer
splash the maenads snaking with joy.
Seven black dancers leap on a cliff,
five different rhythms make them alive:
It's music that spears them, one at a time!
One says “It's crazy,” one says “It's love,”
three new rhythms awaken the dead!
Fertility spirits moan and shout
as flutes and oboes evoke ancestors.
A soprano echoes a baritone's wail.
The sky man wears a cloak of feathers,
the earth woman wears a skirt of grass.

A neighboring tribe joins the fray
entering caves with torches aloft,
wearing masks of stallions and mares.
The god who grants all desires arrives
riding a winged golden lion
as twenty eight drummers climax at once.

I can believe that joy is infectious,
I can believe that music is Life.
I'm going to jump and roar my approval
she's going to ride a broad chested centaur
the people will tussle a long hungry python
when Pan calls us in the middle of the night.

Copyright © Gawaine Ross | Year Posted 2015

Fall and
red yellowing 
leaves in the trees

an old man sitting 
on a bench
watches them 
and thinks of his youth

a youth 
sitting on a bench
looking into his iPhone
simulates the falling 
red yellowing leaves
and googles 
the future 
of trees

Copyright © RUDOLPH RINALDI | Year Posted 2014


Copyright © Team PoetrySoup | Year Posted 2016

The theory of everything
Which even an Einstein could not divine
Remains the goal
Four fundamental forces making the universe what it is
Electromagnetism, weak interaction, strong interaction, gravity
Each with its own mediator particle that makes the force a force
Photons, W and Z Bosons, Gluons and Gravitons are their given names
All for the Graviton proven to exist
Completing their journey from postulation to theory to discovery
Only the Graviton awaits a Columbus
But herein is postulated the existence of a fifth force
More powerful, more complex than the other four
Failing, to date. to command attention in the field of physics
The powerful universal force named ....LOVE
Its mediator particle, here in, called CUPID
Difficult to discover as is the Graviton and like the Graviton it has no mass
Because it too must act instantaneously and at long distances
And has, as should be expected, a spin value of 2
Once the CUPID is discovered the theoty of everything will be complete

Copyright © Americo Petrocelli | Year Posted 2016

(Warning) You need to watch english daytime t.v to really get the drift.............

Another day breaks, I open my eyes
It’s still rather early but I feel I must rise
Into the bathroom a little unsteady
I’m sure I’ll come round as I’m getting ready.
Out the window I sit and stare
A cup of tea and in my chair.
The day won’t seem quite so long
If I sit and watch the birds in song.
The TV’s on - nothing new
I’ll think I make another brew
Another poor soul through the ringer
That’s what you get with Gerry Springer!
I turn it over with a smile
Just in time for Jeremy Kyle!
The days long gone when I went “gyming”
Now I sit and watch Loose Women!
This afternoon its Noel’s best deals
But now its time for meals on wheels!
Frozen peas and a slice of ham
I suppose it’s better than war-time spam!
What’s for pudding? Spotted Dick?
I like my custard nice and thick
A little nap is what I need 
To bring me right back up to speed.
It’s Bargain Hunt’s auction sale
Can’t wait for seven and Emmerdale!
Some mail to write with ink and pen
Then off to bed with News at Ten!

Copyright © Roger Page | Year Posted 2010

Far overhead the skyline bids goodnight, Bestowing crown to hazy moon on flight As silent pillows dream, breaths ebb day’s rites ----- --- - Silence Contest sponsored by Susan

Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2012

Fruit Loop cobblestones
pave my way
to bottles of milk.

Copyright © Mary Oliver Rotman | Year Posted 2015

+                                             From the dead                
                  Jesus resurrected!!                      s three days after his 
                                                                   r savior. Happy Easter, Poetry Soup.

Copyright © Ruben O. | Year Posted 2009

It wasn't planned or by design,
But, somehow it worked out just fine.
My bank account was fairly high.
I lost my job and said goodbye
To all the things that tied me down.
I sold my house without a frown.
Got rid of almost everything.
Could hear my spirit start to sing.
Packed up my clothes and old guitar,
And started living in my car.

The city never held my heart,
Was just a game, I played my part.
Said, "see you later," to my friends.
One story starts, another ends.
I filled my tank and hit the road,
Without a care and nothing owed.
The pages opened up for me,
'Till freedom's all that I could see.
Just followed notions and a star,
And cherished living in my car.

My clock was sunset and the dawn,
It's all that I relied upon.
I'd sleep by streams and sometimes share,
The forest with whatever's there.
Nights silence was a welcome change.
My thoughts would soar to places strange.
I blended in with natures plan.
Just me and God and my sedan.
I learned of life and journeyed far, 
When I was living in my car.

Copyright © Robert Nehls | Year Posted 2014

Jaunty faces
Evoke positive thoughts  
And even though they say encouraging words to you
Layered within those words are thoughts of failure
Only their mind’s eye knows about
Until that day you are on your knees
Struggling to get up; while they are watching you and not lending a hand


Copyright © Wilma Neels | Year Posted 2013

Many miles away we travel.
We just want to get lost.
Get in the van, fill the tank,
no matter what the cost.
We go places we've never been,
See the world in a new way.
Every turn the road we take
Makes for an exciting day.
The company we keep inspires
kindness, good stories and smiles.
I am thankful and more than grateful
for all the many miles.
When the trip is through,
and the dark takes over the sun.
I cherish the memories of driving
many miles away just for fun.

Copyright © Casarah Nance | Year Posted 2014