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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.

 1     

I could not understand,
I had the whole world
in my hands.
I could be anywhere 
I wanted to be,
but even then
I was not free.
 
I had a strong longing for,
something which 
I know I knew before,
but had somehow lost
in the struggle
of trying to become,
more and more.

I could no longer run,
I could no longer hide,
from the sorrow
which I felt inside.
So I embraced my sorrow,
and my sorrow showed me,
That wherever I go 
there I shall be.
That I am home
And home is me.
That I no longer 
need to become,
because I already am.

I am the answer,
I am the key,
I am the truth, 
to my own reality.
All this time 
all I was looking for
was me...

I am free,
I am free,
I am free.

Copyright © Yoshi Mato | Year Posted 2015


More featured poems below...



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

©135020092013

Copyright © Wilma Neels | Year Posted 2013

That fickle lady, Time, is treading lightly
Through the landscape of my life,
Neither caring nor noticing
How much of me survives

She rests her hand upon my shoulder,
And whispers in my ear:
"No need to fret for future cares,
For its just another year."

Just another year run through my hands,
Just another year.
Just another shifting of the sands,
Just another year.

And I look in the mirror and laugh at myself;
At the Boy struggling up through the grey.
And I try to leave the bottle up on its shelf
And to joke all the dark thoughts away.

And that ladyghost whispers again 
To banish my doubts and my fear,
That it all can't be helped; that it all runs together
Into just -another- year.

Just another year run through my hands,
Just another year.
Just another shifting of the sands,
Just another year.

But the days look different and the nights grow colder
When you look back and find that you're just that much older
And you find that the shadow that followed when you first learned to crawl
Is now looming behind you on every bare wall
And the kids that you ran with now help you to stand
And the boys that you joked with now see an old man
And the girls that you chased now know its all right
To tuck you in softly and turn out the light
In the end... In the end
What you need is a friend.

But the Lady never leaves, 
Tells me everything's fine
As she snickers up her sleeves
And tempts me with ever more wine.

She puts her hand upon my shoulder,
And kisses the tears. 
No point in fighting it anyway -
It's just another year.

Just another year run through my hands,
Just another year.
Just another shifting of the sands,
Just another year.





Copyright © William Masonis | Year Posted 2015

If only you could see the vision
Now deeply living inside my mind
Feeling the peace which now stays
Knowing your love is only mine.

If only you could feel the passion
Which each new day is on the rise,
Then you would never worry at all
For you will never face lonely times

I truly love you deep within my heart
With a pure power that never ends
And every time I awaken to your smile
Its life essence selflessly begins

For I feel what you have given me
With the love you allow me to seize
Binds me tightly to a fervent need
To have your love always next to me.

Copyright © Wendell Brown | Year Posted 2015



                        You bring to me
                               a freshness,
                           thats been hidden
                        for such a long time.

                         Revealing a child,
                             thats wants nothing,
                         but happiness,
                             peace and joy.

                         You with your laughter,
                               and infectious smile,
                          gives me the strength,
                             when all else fails.

Copyright © Tucker Carwile Jr | Year Posted 2012

Away your burdens
Away your weariness
Away your blunders
Away your awaiting sins
Away your arguments
Away your wayward disobedience
Away your winnowing elements
Away your unwanted thoughts
Away and be gone
Way gone

Copyright © Toquyen Harrell | Year Posted 2012

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

Today is national happiness day,
Well would shout huzzah, hurray,
But suspicious of a happy ending,
And with "happily ever after's" pending,
Wish only for sweet equanimity today.

Note: Written on March 20, 2015 for Happiness Day

Copyright © Thomas Martin | Year Posted 2015

The longer I live,
Take from and give
This extraordinary life Divine;
Despite all the shackles 
We try hard to tackle
New mountains and vistas to climb. 
And reach for the wonder,
New meaning and thunder 
In the rain and the pain and the chill;
The longer I live, 
Take from and give
This life continues to thrill.
My mind – heart –soul
In the depths of untold
History, mystery and song;
Up there somewhere
Angels I hear
Sailing and strolling along.
Side by side
This world and the next
Barely a heart beat away;
True love and dreams
Are all that we need
At the end of each 
Difficult day.
Down
In the valley
Where shadows creep
And nothing of matter remains;
I'd raise heaven and holy hell
For the chance to do it again.

Copyright © Terrell Martin | Year Posted 2011

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Copyright © Team PoetrySoup | Year Posted 2016

A warm Spring's fragrant wind
lifts leaf shadows as, molten metal
sizzles from the sudden wet plunge
A farrier holds firm the muddy fetlock
while on three legs a plough horse 
stands, docile beneath the hammer blows

A brown eye shines and gently
 shuts- he lets a practised hand
glide over sweat-stained withers
that wiggle when a fly lands

The first foot falls- a soft
snort from a velvet muzzle as he
lifts the other to be shod

Soft hooves becoming, iron clad

 

 For the contest, Any Poem, sponsor, Broken Wings must appear on poem

Copyright © Suzanne Delaney | Year Posted 2013

The light is
shinning
Only the blind not
see
The Fear of the
Almighty
Quills stain the
truth

Friends

Pray for each and
everyone
Until we get the job
done
Their thoughts sink
in mind
They be all of one
kind

Foe

Now they now see
Continue to insight
fear
Your form of mind
control
The will shall not
bow

Who Know

Accuser is not
blameless
The both acts bring
shame
Only one can forgive
This is how I live

Truth

Kind not be denied
Be it thirst not
quenched
My life does not end
A message will send



****Michael J.
Falotico Contest
Entry - Dedicated to
all the poets on
soup that inspire
me. ****

Copyright © Steven Henderson | Year Posted 2012

( El Faro means the lighthouse)

El Faro #1

salt is in my tears
for the grace of god go I
Fiddlers Green awaits

El Faro #2

brothers and sisters
Joaquin cries tears of sadness
forever leeward

El Faro #3

El Faro now rest
sleep deep on your mothers floor
she has called for you

El Faro #4

no wave for granted
my heart is heavy today
listen to bells ring

El Faro #5

list fifteen to port
Edmund look for your cousin
hold fast  the mid-watch 

El Faro #6

no lighthouse to watch
irony not lost at sea
I long to hear you

El Faro #7

you believe in god
it pounds you like a hammer
green water swallows 

El Faro #8

with culpability
I think of the storms survived 
when resolve is breached






Copyright © Stephen Barry | Year Posted 2015

The  Little White Box

The alabaster box was made of precious stone.
For its flawless beauty, and honor it is known.
The contents enclosed, in this little white box:
Is sealed in perfection, as if it had locks!
Upon its opening scents saturate the room.
as a bouquet of roses, or expensive perfume!
In the hands of a woman, she was shameful we’re told.
Was an alabaster box, filled with ointments of old!
The ointment was rare, and treasured, behold!
And not to be wasted, yet, thought to be sold.

Now this woman stood at Jesus’ feet.
She wept like a baby, as if in defeat.
Image the tears, flowing from her eyes.
While washing his feet, between deep gasping sighs!
She dried off his feet, with the hairs of her head.
Her grateful affections could not be misread!
She broke open her box; the ointment she poured.
Anointing his feet, for she was restored!
For much she loved and forgiven for much:
The hand of Jesus, her heart did touch!

This little white box paints a pretty sweet picture.
Of a valuable treasure only found in scripture.
In its perfection, like a sleek stone:
Clothed in great honor, flawless he’s known.
He poured out his Spirit, as if it was ointment.
Expressing his love on the Day of Atonement!
The Alabaster Box was purposely chosen.
As Jesus’ Deity, through it was spoken!
She gave him the best, for Mercy revealed:
As his beloved, her fate was now sealed!

Yes! Liken unto that alabaster box:
 The King is real strong and solid as rocks!
He is cloaked in majesty, draped in white.
His priceless fragrance, does always invite!

Written
1-6-14

Copyright © Stacey Brown | Year Posted 2014

Call me red as it’s your colour too
I am talking of blood and not you

It’s your nation and not you
That makes my colour look new

So why kill me? as it’s your colour too
And I'm no different from you

It’s my race and not my face
Which separates  me from you

 So call me red as it’s your colour too
I am talking of blood and not you

- Sherwin Fernandes

Copyright © Sherwin Fernandes | Year Posted 2015

 The two Cowboys stood at the cliff of a great divide.
Jacob stood, starring across the opening with Bill still
in his saddle, close by his side. The rocky scene was like
A kaleidoscope, every color, ever known.
Is there any other place you would rather be Bill?
Bill said, No Jacob, I don't believe so.
Jacob slowly, climbed back on to his horse and pulled the 
reins and headed North. He started whistling a happy note
and Bill listened as he followed Jacob to the valley
slope.

 Deadwood City here we come, looking for gold and lots of fun,
Jacob shouted! Yep, Bill shouted back, and we need to keep us
a fully loaded gun. The Cowboys laughed out loud as they rode on.
The Cowboys knew Deadwood could make a man so very rich
and they had contracted the gold fever itch. The day's travel was
so very long and hot, and the sun began to sink below the mountain's 
amber, rugged tops.

 They found a place to camp before nightfall and how that fire crackled
as they ate beans and corn fritters, and over coffee talked.
You know Bill, said Jacob. One Summer could set us straight and you 
could pay off the old farm and fix that crooked gate.
Yeah, Bill responded and then you could marry Jenny. Maybe start
a family and maybe even buy the Ole Mill. Yeah, said Jacob, so surreal.  
The Cowboys lay starring at the stars in the sky that clear, crisp night
and dreamed of all the things that gold could buy them, until daylight.

 The Cowboys made Deadwood and Oh, the sights they seen.
They panned every river and every stream. Then at summer's end
they cashed it all in and headed back to Tennessee, to live out their lives
and share with their family the story of their Deadwood dreams.

Copyright © Sharon Gulley | Year Posted 2014

Fall and
red yellowing 
leaves in the trees

an old man sitting 
on a bench
watches them 
fall
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

+                                             From the dead                
                                                                   t
                                                                   h
                                                                   r
                                                                   e
                                                                   e
                                                                   d
                                                                   a
                                                                   y
                  Jesus resurrected!!                      s three days after his 
                                                                                                 c                
                                                                                                 r
                                                                                                 u
                                                                                                 c
                                                                                                  i
                                                                   
                                                                   f
                                                                   i
                                                                   x
                                                                   i
                                                                   o
                                                                   n
                                                                   o
                                                                   u
                                                                   r
                                                                   c
                                                                   h
                                                                   r
                                                                   i
                                                                   s
                                                                   t
                                                                   o
                                                                   u
                                                                   r savior. Happy Easter, Poetry Soup.

Copyright © Ruben O. | Year Posted 2009

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

(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



 1