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Free Verse Birthday Poems | Free Verse Poems About Birthday

These Free Verse Birthday poems are examples of Free Verse poems about Birthday. These are the best examples of Free Verse Birthday poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

Hands

Featuring: Leonora Galinta
----------------------------------
Take My Hands
I Offer Them To You
Hold Them Tight
Never Let Go Of Them!
---------------------------------

~MY HANDS~

With all the time on my hands
I gave my hands one job.
  My Hands 
-The Artist-

My hands paint everything in my life
they paint my weakness, my strength 
they paint the fire in my eyes
they hold me when I'm cold
my hands colored my childhood!

Like an architect, 
my hands drew the plans and layouts of my life.
My hands *very articulate, are they? 
They continue to sew and show the way  
Sometimes, my hands paint the truth
Sometimes, my hands paint lies
Painting hurtful images on dry wall
My palms, my fingers embedded calluses from every fall
Creating images, healing my heart
Sometimes my hands are the only friend I see. 

With no words to say
I caress the sky line like a mime
My hands ride the wind, 
My hands paint a world, 
each of their own. 

Young and pretty finger prints 
They feel, they hold, they grip
Don't let go!

Clever and cute
It's time for motherhood
My hands painted your first hold
Traced your first smile
A painting  I treasure forever in my heart
Yes! A Rembrandt they became during birth 
Now your all grown up...  :-(  
Embarrassed to embrace the hold
One day when I'm old you will hold my hands and remember the gold.

My hands paint many designs when it comes to love
sometimes a masterpiece 
sometimes a mistake
sometimes my hands felt images I can't describe
Made up moments of handicap when lost
My hands perfect when in love
They write songs when complete
So many interlock moment with you
Firm, the perfect match, my fingers spoke.

My hands 
-The Artist-
they've been told
held so many times
always meeting, greeting,  
waving hello's and goodbyes... ((you see my hands, they smile too))

Painful, arthritis 
cuts, bruises
Pinching my way through reality. 
Reaching holding on to dreams.
Snapping fingers, we are a team.

My hands age in every turning page
Shriveled and old
Still you embrace and love the hold
my hands touch and make a difference
my hands learned a lot
my hands prayed 
and knew their duty.
My hands employed by me.
When they are bored,
they tap and tap and draw THAT' annoying noise.

My hands know secrets, a fortune teller can never reveal
they hold the past, present, and  future in every line.
I extend my hands,
without flipping the bird
Thank you Hands!
I am enjoying the sign language show.

In my next life, or so
I will praise my hands
Yes so beautiful, tender, they love to feel...................

My Hands
-The Artist-
I can't believe with all the time I have on my hands.
I forgot to mention I'm left-handed.

by;pd


Details | Free verse | |

Time Travel

-In-between Worlds-

Letting go of all the space in between
the reality
the cloud
A theme, that use to be 
---Now dead
Long gone before I woke

Sadly Today's my birthday 
So here I am singing a song
All ALone
Happy Birthday to myself

Love PD


Details | Free verse | |

BIRTHDAY BURNOUT

The fire brigade are on standby With their hoses in their hand For today it is my birthday My birthday cake is on a stand There are so many candles It is a health and safety risk So be ready with the hoses guys And make sure you get here quick! 25th January 2015


Details | Free verse | |

THE POET DESTROYER

A shades poet, writing in blacks quailed ink,
Expressing emotions by a poetic pallet of diversity,
On a canvas rainbow bursting forth across the
Horizon at dawns first light.
Imaginations dream seeker, walking amongst 
The clouds, in heaven's meadows above.
Inspiration's muse, she'll never realize what
A simple comments pleasure, can give to
Lighten up someones day.
I've read eloquence's words placed upon the
Lab top screen before me, and felt tears sorrow,
Exhilaration’s heights of elevation.
Through her words of poetic thoughts placed 
Within lines.
Getting to know another person, and so now
Calling her a friend.
We the bards are becoming a rare breed, 
Unique each one of us, in our own ways,
But in retrospective similarities sharing the 
Same traits and needs.
To write, to express, and use our intense
Imaginations, to take others along with us,
In a journey beyond physical limitations,
Beyond body and mind.
She calls herself Poet Destroyer, but in 
Reality's truth, she is not destruction’s poetic
Slayer, but instead an angel of 
Compassion helping those whom need guidance.
What is the meaning of life, I've heard this
Asked many times before?
My personal opinion to this question is
To make some kind of difference in this 
World.
To touch another's persons life in some way,
Special,
Poet Destroyer you've touched mine,
And this is my way of saying thank you.
Happy Birthday to come my friend.
Always Cheri.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN



Details | Free verse | |

Happy Birthday II

For today,
The air breeze,
The sun rise,
The birds chirping,
and reminds me your birthday.

For today,
I am alone,
without you who born today,
for I know I do not have anything to offer.

For today,
this is a poor me,
that wishing you far away from home,
that I only have my prayers for a gift,
that if I could exchanged my prayers for you,
I am willing to do it all.

For today,
I am sorry,
Sorry for not being to pretty,
Sorry for not being rich,
Sorry for not being famous,
Sorry for not giving you a branded gift,
Sorry for ashamed you,
that this is your birthday,
I am glad for your born.

For now,
Happy Birthday.
From apologetic me,
that by remembered your born day,
is the best way for your gift.

For now,
hey loved,
happy birthday from me,
from the bottom of my heart.


Details | Free verse | |

Maybe

Maybe you raised those glasses
and thought about me for a minute,
smiled and wished my dreams came true.

Maybe there were times when you believed,
like I do now,
that stars hear our broken whispers.

Maybe our souls are not that much different
and once we all shared the same dream,
that somewhere over the glass,
over the curtain is the world where we belong.

Maybe our hearts beat in the same rhythm
and one day we will raise those glasses together,
talk the whole night through and I will fear no more.


Details | Free verse | |

The Deamon Faire

The Deamon Faire
The Deamon Faire
a paroday of a novel
the awful ugly was moving slightly impaired in the fire was slowing it down
it was the deamon faire come to the home
the little child asleep in the hay
the pussy willow cat came to catch the deamon faire
she crept near the crypt
the deamon faire lumbered near the mill
the mill was turning wheel almost captured pussy willows tale
she sounded like a deamon cat all wound upp and upp too bat
indeed the deamon faire looked like a hairy bat in a suit with the tie
the cat pounced at the deamon faire and missed the splash was a wet pussy 
willow cat
she hissed the deamon faire sounded just like this
a long burning howl pulled over a wool scarf then turned into a screech
the outreach tried to reach the scene of the crime was an old pond milling and 
lumbering and long
overgrown ivy trailing
meandering overblown moss
the author was right up to this point and then she lost her train of thought the 
end of the book never tells us exactly what happened to the
The Deamon Faire
ed,note,ed
did you read Faire as FAIR  or FAIRY oh what a Happy Birthday Paroday
a real live dead poet charlax poetry poem


Details | Free verse | |

ANDREA D

.                 *ANDREA  D.*
.                 Happy Birthday 
.                      9/5/??


Wonderful lady here at the soup.
Life is still a big dream no matter her age group.
I bring to you September 5th Birthday scoop.
Andrea D, your a classic like Miss Betty Boop.
You target another year with a slam dunk hoop.
 
I want to take this time to dish out a cute birth day rhyme.
Relax enjoy the glitter & streamers anyway you can-Madame.
The candles points to you, like Uncle Sam.
Expressing my self like Sam I am!
Would you!" Could you!" Have yourself a Happy Birth Day Jam!

This is the part where my mini slam gets cute!
I wish you the best birth day sending you my salute.
Birthday cake made out of real forbidden fruit.
Straw-burst candy, smiles that flow in the air like pollute.
Celebrate the day you where brought into this world wearing your birthday suit.

Enjoy your day, as if you won a super shopping spree.
Enjoy your day, as if your day was full of potpourri.
Enjoy your day, with all the smiles everyone can see.
Enjoy your day, with all your friends and family.
Enjoy your day, with all the sweetness like honey from a bee.
Better yet Andrea D.
HAPPY! Happy Birth Day To You, ANDREA D!

Wishing you the best thing a birthday can bring.
Rising to the birthday song, Joe your king will sing.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANDREA, FROM ALL of us HERE at THE SOUP!
                   
by; P.D.


Details | Free verse | |

Being there

Diamonds are a dangerous commodity.
Topaz brickettes pave lost roads 
for the unfortunate paths 
of bewildered Dorothy's
(and misguided second-removed cousins).
The birthday cards
I send myself,
are never returned to sender;
they're forwarded to you.

Rubies are ominous and a crucial burden.
Red. A vibrant statement.
Look at me! I'm red! 
Quite a pathetic gemstone.
(Dorothy - you need to re-dye your slippers).
The birthday cards you've sent me
are now forwarded back to you.
Diamonds and rubies 
are dangerous commodities.

Quartz tickles my fancy.
Limestone abandons my will.
Emeralds? I visted that city; once.
The PO Box for my re-routed
birthday cards are registered there.
My second-removed cousin
tiles his palacial floors with them.
Diamonds, rubies and emeralds are
dangerous commodities.

Sapphires are worthless crackerjacks.
Amethyst is a word that
(half the population of Idaho can't spell).
A Rock of Gibraltar. The man you needed.
The dupe you wanted.
The patsy who refrains from  
visiting your morosed petting zoos.
The gemstone you suckle?
Who is it?

No!

I'm not your diamond;
sweetheart.
Hardly, am I your ruby;
cupcake.
Perchance, an emerald? 
Doubtful! 
Quartz, limestone...a sapphire?
You orchestrate personal deaths 
upon the metallic
bands around your rhenoid fingers.
A gemstone I'm not a part of.

Being there - 
I was the part of your life
that was accidentally flung over 
rusty-coat hangers
stuffed in moth-ridden closets.
I was the gemstone 
that never glossed
your fancy fingers.

Diamonds?
Emeralds?
Rubies?
Sapphires?
Quartz?
Limestone?

No...pumice; 
my love.
Understand, pumice doesn't sink!
I'll pop back into mischievious
blackened-hearts anytime I please -
and you will welcome me for
a sincerity that warrrants no appraisals.

However, 
my utmost truisms sparkle 
decadent- bright
like diamonds -

a dangerous and rare
commodity.





.




Details | Free verse | |

My Son Moon and Star

            My Son Moon and Star ~

        Approaching the celebration of his Birth 
                cherishing the gift I received 
           within weeks of conception I knew
            something amazing was in Creation ~

            the Stars held a party
            sending me with one of their own  
    Gazing at 3 shooting stars twinkling crossing the sky   
       It was magic  It was destiny taking its flight.  

           In love with an October full moon 
               drawing and painting I liked 
             thinking of Vincent Van Gogh ~
                caught in a loss of time 

          Hours going by as choosing my color  
           a wittness to three falling stars 
             A clear night sky sparkle's
           A once Famous Star was sent 
            inspiring the tiny child inside ~ 

           Never a doubt in my mind at all     
       child bearing was worth any pain received
      yours will be in a pursuit of a dream ~
             one to cherish and hold
          My Son was born the following August ~

    working on the set of Grimm 3rd season this year  
         as the set of Leverage for 3 years .

              Has done a Indie movie here  
             In Paris it was seen and honored
             coming soon filmed in Portland ~
                 "The House of Last Things "

        awaiting the credits , you will see
                        
    1st Assistant Director ~ production assistant 
   
                 My Young Lion Mans dream ~
        A proud mom I watch every show and the credits 

        as foretold in a whisper to me 25 years ago
              My Son &  Moon and Star  
               A name you will all know ~

            Happy Birthday to my creative Son
             you will exist in my heart forever~
                        and thereafter               
                             Mom


Details | Free verse | |

The Voice of Her Mother- My Daughter's Gift

I've written the lyrics to two lullabies for my daughter, Shereen. I even made 
up the tunes, and I'd sing to her when she was a baby to put her to sleep. She 
still remembers those songs at 19 years of age. For my birthday last May, she 
wrote this poem as a gift....just like last year. The quoted parts are words taken from the lullabies. I adore my daughter, my greatest and most precious gift.

“When she smiles, I feel like a bird in the sky.”
The words softly sung to the weary child-
This bundle of whimpers
This armful of distress-
Hoping they’d ease her restlessness
Hoping they’d calm her disquieted heart…
And they did. 
Like nothing else ever could.
Nothing could comfort her
Like the voice of her mother.

“She is the apple of my eye.”
Rocking gently in time with the tune, she swiftly fell 
Fell into a peaceful slumber 
Nuzzled in the warmth of her consoler 
Whimpers softened, distress vanished 
Quiet. Serene.
Floating in the promise 
That those words would be there
To welcome her in the morning. 
Nothing could comfort her
Like the voice of her mother. 

“With laughter and joy she fills my heart”
Nestled in that kind embrace
The child, now almost grown
With tear-stained face and heavy heart
Couldn't fight the world alone
But whenever she was breaking, too tired to go on
She’d search for those same words-
To ease her restlessness
To calm her disquieted heart…
She’d search for those same words
To find them in those same arms.
And she’d fall. Like she always did.
Fall into that peaceful slumber
Quiet. Serene.
Floating in the promise 
That those words would be there
To welcome her in the morning. 
Nothing could comfort her
Like the voice of her mother.

Written by Shereen Nathalie Ghali (May 18, 2014)

Please read The Month of May...which is Shereen's first birthday poem written for me and posted here. You will find it if you type the title in PS's search engine. It is a beauty and is in rhyme. 


Details | Free verse | |

Dance For Me Johnny, Dance

Finding this roll of yellow paper
Twas just a tiny child seven years old
Gathering all his colour crayons bits as whole
Setting aside the somber tides in silence an attempt
To rise above these swirling waves a distant world but where...
Surreal it seemed less than dreams and all the tear stained, shores.
                                                            


Details | Free verse | |

Happy Birthday, Mom

Happy birthday, Mom
I wonder how many years have passed by
Since I gave you my first tenuous smile 
Since you steadied my first faltering step
Since the first time I called you "Mommy"
You are the place I came from
You are my first home
You are an angel in human form
Who lives inside my laughter
And crystallized in my every tear drop

I want to thank you 
For your heart, faith and hope
For teaching me right from wrong
For your tender care and warm hugs
For all your steadfast love
For filling my days with rainbow lights
For all the times we have shared
For always being there in my time of need
For helping me deal with life's stresses
For helping me accept my defeats
For everything you have done
For you made me a woman I am

One birthday after another
They seem faster each year
I just want you to know that
The years you devoted to me, 
You can trust, were worthwhile.

Happy Birthday, Mom.
You are the best Mom a daughter could have.




~For my Mom's B'day @July 12


Details | Free verse | |

My Birthday

My Birthday is coming soon. Everybody is getting ready to celebrate. Last year they had a party too. They said it was in my honor, but they forgot to send me an invitation. I went anyway. I went in very quietly, so as not to disturb anyone. They had beautiful decorations and lots of food to eat. They also had lots of liquor to drink. I stood silent in a corner. I saw everybody eating, drinking and having fun. I thought that they would offer me some, but they didn't even notice me at all. Soon a fat man dressed in red came in, yelling - HO, HO, HO. All the children ran to him. They all carried on, like if he was the most important of all. Midnight came and everybody kissed and hug eachother. I too opened my arms to see if they would hug me too, but no one did. They all exchanged gifts. I left, I felt like they had shut the door in my face. This year I'm going to have a party. The biggest party of all. I am inviting all of you. I hope that you will come. If you decide to come - I will write your name with Gold Letters in my guest book. You have been invited. It is now up to you if you want to come. I will be waiting with Opened arms. Your friend JESUS...
12/08/2012 Written by Lucilla M. Carrillo


Details | Free verse | |

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PABLO PICASSO

In a riot of colours using brushes with valour,
Many movements he started devoid of pallor.
From a town called Malaga,far off in spain,
Pouring his heart out,unloading his pain.
What a journey he started from conformity parted,
To paint till the last,until he departed.
Many have aspired and wanted to be,
Including your's truly,I say why not me?
From erotic nudism to new found cubism,
His loss to the world left a wide open chasm.
How God made him great,I never could fathom?
But thats the way I guess God wanted to make him.
Although the years rolled and went passing by,
Another painters yet to reach for the sky.
I'm telling the truth and not telling a lie,
I'll love only Pablo until that day when I die.
I know he had friends,some straight and some gay,
But all I want to say today is....Happy Birthday.

PS.It was Pablo Picasso's B'day on 25/10/09 and I dedicate this poem to this 
mentor and inspiration of mine.

                                                         ---Princefreakasso
                                                           (Artist and Poet)


Details | Free verse | |

December

She didn't remember who I was
But it didn't really matter
Her eyes would light up like sunshine
Each time I entered the room.

She'd say, "Oh! Please, sit a spell",... and I would pull up a chair...
I handed her the bag.  She peeked inside.
Her smile was like a happy child.
A cookie....she could always find delight in a cookie.
You would have thought it was a pot of gold.

As we chatted, she told me her birthday was coming.
"December 19th!", she would remind me..
Forgetting that she'd told me many times before.
Although it was only summer...I said "We'll have to celebrate!"
And she said...."Oh yes..let's have a party!"
Everyone knew that this lady loved a party.

"I must be going!", she suddenly said 
Said again, with a worried brow...just as she fretted the day before..  
"The girls will be home from school!"
She looked around for her purse.
"I have three girls, you know,.....they will be coming home from school."
She repeated once more...."I have three daughters, you know."

I told her the girls will be fine...and that I'd like to visit a little longer.
That seemed to calm her.  "Have you seen my ring?"..
She held her gnarled and withered hand high for me to see.
A flash of glitter graced her finger, sparkling just like the stars in the sky.
"My husband gave it to me, ...a Valentine surprise!" she said.  "He was a rascal, you know!"
"Oh,...it's beautiful, Irene"...I responded. 
"Did you know", she smiled again...."My husband gave this to me as a Valentine surprise!"...

Finally,  it was time for me to leave, and I started to say goodbye.
"Oh...would you mind taking me with you?"...."The girls will be coming home from school!"
I told her I would check on her girls...not to worry.
And then I told her I would be back again tomorrow..

"I have a birthday coming", she said....December l9th!!"
Once more...I said..."Yes...we will have a party"....
"Did you see my ring?"..."My husband gave it to me on Valentines, it was a surprise!"

And I said..."It's lovely Irene....as lovely as the stars in the sky"
As lovely as Irene....
Goodnight Irene goodnight....the stars will shine brighter tonight,...
Goodnight Irene, goodnight....


_________________________________________________________________________
Submitted for Dane Ann's contest "What Kindness Means to You"


Details | Free verse | |

Thank You for my Birthday Wishes

Few words with large meanings that meant so much
Birthday blessings from above quoted by all I love
Friends and families far away
Gathered on this very day to wish me all the best on my birthday
Words cannot repay these kind gestures and warm thoughts 
Each birthday verse filled with love and sealed with a kiss
Contained in a package tied with a string 
Forty three birthday wishes
Forty three birthday blessings
Forty three treasures wrapped with a smile, covered with joy sent with peace
To all I love, thank you for the cards
Thank you for the thought
But most of all thank you for just being you.


Details | Free verse | |

IT FEELS GOOD

UpdabumUpdabumUpdabum


Details | Free verse | |

Ode to my son on his 28th birthday

When I looked up at you the other night
I saw you coming through the door
Framing it with your amazing smile
steadfast, self assured, a happy man
A happy Dutch life with Irish sea-kissed roots
Not just a European but a world class man
As you stood before me, I felt such pride.


When I think of you, I see my little boy blue
Forever young, blond mop, those winsome sky eyes
my spry child, intelligent, forever questioning
hyperactive,  mischievous, a little dare devil
your smile, a mile wide in times of trouble
I see you holding your teddies Ruby and Rupert
Tractors, diggers, broken engines brrrrrrrmm.


Your love of engines, paid off after all
as you shifted gear to driving instruction
For a guy who showed no interest in being a scholar
Now you are the teacher, with a flurry of pupils
I think it works better, this way around.
Your greatest gift is your love for people
Your greatest asset, your winning smile


Keep on living and loving as you do
You view life through a positive lens
Becoming a mother hit me with a new perspective
An appreciation of life, when I gave you yours
Together we grew, and continue to grow
In love and respect, now and forever.


Details | Free verse | |

Blessing

Priceless pearl
my hidden diamond
love's sweet jewel

Heaven sent
Angelic countenance
Beauty so pure

Lovely daughter
your character delights
my devotion forever

Heartbeat on screen
My unbelief ceased
the moment
You
first squeezed my finger






Details | Free verse | |

leaving August

        Leaving the last days of August
          memories of the sea waves crashing 
        Tides that leave shells broken to find ~
        
        picnic memories ~
                      fireworks night 
                             Birthday cakes sparkle ~

    sunburns under a sage kissed dessert Moonlight 
         The Summer reminds us of happier days
             scents of coconut oil and lime 
        
            reminds us all of what is yet to come ~
              
              The rain comes down hard
          crying for all souls lost and left behind

             The birds fly in perfect form 
           reminding all of the September storm 
             
           begging for history not to repeat ~
 
                 ~   In war 
                        no wins 
                            only defeat ~
 
            two beams of light straight to the Heavens   
                stay through the whole month of September
                   they remind us to listen silently we stand still 
          
          For the city lives and breaths left with loss 
                    many questions unanswered remain ~
                  
               Leaving behind August
                    entering Septembers fears ~
               
                          
                             



 I love this poem because it reflects on the past and the coming month in remembrance of history that took place September 11th 2001. In a way it is a oxymoron . from passionate summer nights to the fear embraced in the month coming :)

                    



Details | Free verse | |

Poetry police

by: Poet destroyer 

I investigated many poems today
Friendly people on this (Love Boat)
Everybody different in their own way
The evidence I found is hidden in every poetry line
Mysteriously, one poet comes from (Fantasy Island)

I am filing charges on the lady
Who welcomes you to the soup
Leaves you a comment, without reading your identity

Today I read a report on the supernatural.
Billies demons  vs' (Charlies Angels.)

Investigating a woman who poets you advise, gee's how nice
I will give her a ticket, for making me feel guilty as can be

How about the clown who does not wear a rubber nose.
He puts on a show with his pen and paper (THAT IS TALENT)
He is using his ego another way
He makes us laugh, with one whip of his Belt

I will not release the name on the depressing poem I read
For her, I will stop traffic, and move everyone out of her rain
Her words made my heart bleed

A warrant goes out to the girl who used too much imagination.
I actually got to see tongues to tongue vividly.

I will never ticket the poet queen
Murder she wrote and got away,

I do not know who is the John Doe I found today.
I will be reading his poetry file.
To make sure, he is not misleading this investigation.

I also confiscated an old antique or two
Unique skills found in their retired war shoes

I did my undercover work on a serial killer case on the soup.
That is one report I did not want to picture
I hope the writer will bargain for a life sentence 
In a paradise so Green.

I will soon end my file, and turn in my report about Big Foot
After I arrest them ladies who write about butterflies
It is against the law to lead us on a goose chase
We are nowhere near (A highway to heaven)

I have to go join a (S.W.A.T.) team.
To raid the aliens who invade (The little house on the prairie)
I call this group the (A team)
 You know A-liens team who you are.
 
Someone just posted bail
For the girl who blinded us all
She wore her neon converse a straight ticket to jail

I am on a manhunt locating a molester
Every time she is spotted in a pick out line
She comes back and deletes her trade
Erasing her only profile, just to edit all over again

This coming from a crooked cop, (Magnum)P D
Reporting live on the poetry soup


Details | Free verse | |

THREE SHORT POEMS ON LIFE

SHARING A NEW BIRTH

Life begets life.
A Miracle takes shape 
beyond thinking, 
creating blessings. 
Bathe in its aura and
let the joy wash over you.
You are the recipient
Of the Creator's great glory.
flavored with amazing grace.

CAK 2-10-2013

SYNOPSIS:
A poem written to my niece
of the birth of her son.


LEAVING CANADA

I'm thankful not to be in Canada
Where sad memories live
it asked me for and demanded more
of what I could not give
if you ask what was it worth
for me to have taken the lower berth
I will not hesitate nor eplicate
the answer would be yes.

SYNOPSIS 
The lower berth is America.
I love this country and it gave
me the opportunities I needed.


CAK 11-16-2012


COIN TOSS

Wrong-right, being equal sides of the same coin
when tossed ends up blown by a blast of wind
and falls out of sight.

So who won the toss? Did it matter?
Knowing and not knowing, 
questions and non questions, 
to the flipped coin each has a truth all its own.

C.A.K. 1-10-2012

SYNOPSIS:

Could it be that the many sides of destiny are
found in other dimensions?  










Details | Free verse | |

'I Stand Amazed'


As the dust settles On another year added to my life I stand amazed God, Once again you have proven Your wisdom and perfect timing There were trials, pain and victories Moments that required 'a try again' You have been there Every step of the way Sometimes I wanted to question - Then calmness settle Cause a lesson needed to be learned Today I just want to say "Thank you Lord" 'Cause without you, I would not have made it… You knew my worth You knew my ability You saw the best in me When I sometimes questioned it *Written 25 December 2013* ©171029122013


Details | Free verse | |

Love

Romantic, close
A subject of sweetest softness
Cats can be loved too


Details | Free verse | |

- Birthday Girl -


                    I know your face
                    but not your soul
                   "Drama and Love"
                    Yes, I know
                    Today you will be
                   "drama queen"
                    with style
                    Riding into
                    a fairy garden
                    Not on a horse
                    Neither a dragon
                    No, on a beautiful
                    unicorn as white as snow
                    You sit there so beautiful
                    with a lovely dress so fine
                    On the tables in the garden
                    lots of tasty cakes
                    with pink icing and hearts
                    In the large trees hanging
                    gifts in nice shiny paper
                    they sparkle in the sunshine
                    I know your smile
                    and your laughter
                    Hooray for joy, happiness and "the queen"

                                 *** *** ***



Note: You asked for a poem .... and here it comes .... :)
HAPPY BIRTHDAY !!!!!! <3 (07.10.2013)
Have a nice and happy day, Linda!


Contest Sponsor A Poet Destroyer
Contest Name Birthday Girl
Deadline 10/28/2013 12:00:00 AM


05.10.2013
A-L  Andresen :)



(1st place in the contest)


Details | Free verse | |

You Are Everything

O friend, I'm all yours, teach me to love,
I've left the world and come, teach me love,
When my companion cares for me,
Why should I care for the world?
The world puts bans on me,
I don't belong to this world,
You in the morning, you in the evening,
You’re the kin; you only are the friend,
Every time every minute of the day,
You’re the kin; you only are the friend,
On the heart's slate I write,
Love, Love…
What does the world know my heart feels?
Love for whom,
Beloved, hug me and ask my well being,
What do I care about the world?
You're my victory; the world is my loss,
I don't belong to this world,
I have to become love and write letters
With eyes, have to write,
The way you look, I have to look like that,
Have to look like that,
The cupbearer of passions gives me lesson,
What do I care about the world?
You're with me, (my) world is with me,
I don't belong to this world…


Details | Free verse | |

Ode to my daughter on her birthday - 26

My Sarah
When I looked at you last week trying on your new boots
Those almond eyes sparkling at something new, a gift
I saw my little pink girl, a princess, playing dress up again
Your long hair draped your high cheekbones
Life still a game, tinged with drama and theatre 
As you look for fun in all your pursuits!
A player in life with a passion for cooking and music
You have become a kind, loyal, vivacious young woman
Self assured, grounded with a love of tradition
I looked at you and felt an overwhelming pride.

Sunday’s child is ' bonny, blithe, good and gay' they say
Befitting my Sabbath girl, a model child of few demands
Your bedroom a vast sea of Barbie and friends
A Passion for story-time and books
Your Dutch life with Irish sea-touched roots, 
You are a real continental
A great scholar with degrees in Law and Psychoanalysis
You have found your true love with Luis, a Spaniard
As you both prepare to leave the Emerald Isle
I wonder at the achievement of you!


Details | Free verse | |

Happy Birthday Jesus

Oh Lord and mighty Savior 
I sing in your name praise be
In honor to you King of Israel
who takes away the sins of this world

Star of all stars Bethlehem 
shining salvation loves light
purity in the scriptures fulfilled
proclaiming him blessed Holy One

A messenger singing Heavenly
an angel in praise to king of kings
In peace and good deeds God's only son
Blessed born his Immaculate heart

Conceived of the Holy Spirit Lord
Almighty Holiness in your council 
one of understanding happy birthday
Our shepherd born salvation leads his flock

Faraway in the distance
three wise kings following sign
A diamond star they followed
light of truth born shone in a manger

As they entered bowing bearing gifts
Gold worshiping the Almighty king
Myrrh most precious bitter herb of the east
Frankincense to perfume our Holy One

The shepherds came as an angel sang out
Heavenly song in gentle melody
singing born today is our savior child
praise eternities revelations tune

O  most Gracious Lord Jesus 
I bow humble inside meek 
happy birthday oh master 
our savior Almighty King


Details | Free verse | |

Art Of a Tree

The roots on my legs grow branches of a legend
A tree of hope like the dope Alexandra Pope
In forests men are hanged on a washing line between trees to dry their tears
Me followed a choir that struggled singing Gospel hyms sober
I am looking for Me
The son of My Body in your fertile ground
He gost lost in the middle of loud friendly zones and their grounds
Centre of imaginations was a tea bag on his homeless ground
He's never been grounded

Listeners

I have no clue where Me has been but he donated words, ears and planted views
I have clues and a cue for his wounded wounds
He's been in hustle with smart fools
Me is sick but has never bothered to bother doctors who less studied him and his clues 
He is not an ash tray but remains the biggest fire in his own tree
The skin of Africa
Shut up and listen kinda like missions
Breaking visions of blind folded snakes as he wins all price tagged storms
Its a norm to bond and live in this morden traffic before roll down red carpets
Its a form filled in pencils for the world prefares editing your poems

Mischivous but real
Truth is, poetry stays real 
In different genarations poetry spreads in the name of love slamming doors
The warehouse of corrections in poetry slamming doors
Heart beats beat the need to grow perfection by force while painting love in triggers of speech

Using the same language to bridge brain triggers
Poetry must find Me 
Poetry questioned his dreams
He protected fantasies amplified by baby urines covored in beer bottles
Detox on cornflakes and milk with no honey repairing the night before disco lights chasing hunnies
Me flooded in different nations like a little bunny
Me must be somewhere in between real issues and being funny
The mistaken kitchen designer facing truth in the back of its head
In two faces facing facts in the back of its head 

Me was once located naked in the midist of lame headaches
Chasing perfect levels better than Rambo's muscles
Me must have been the perfect speaker speaking things on other levels
A rebel with no tattoo drawing hearts in fine art images exposing racoons in artistic headaches
Too lazy to kill a fly type rebel but quiker than the speed of life's comments
He planted smiles in suprise moments more like a depressed comedian
Anacondas hide their heads in Me's body languge Language is a body that plants bushes to hide anacondas in Me's headaches

Mischivous but real 
Truth is poetry stays real
In different genarations, poetry ran marathons in different names painting seeds of headaches
In different brains these words swam and died out from brain to brains
Producing light hearted legends in darkness love making moments
The karate kid who never whorship kiddings

Superman did fly for real
Me was told its not real so he can be real
Me might be hidding behind roots of rainy days
Days when Me opened his mouth to sip pure water from rain drops
Days when beef turned hip hop into chewable vegitables

What is plural if you cant malti task rural cool sounds in the eyes of strangers, 
Pagers?
Rain makes more skills grow faster in trees, 
Pagers!!
With no intentions to preach 
Me must have lost track and tracked wrong tracks in the map of artistic muscles 
Chasing musculine profiles 
He was told chase your dream even when your legs are broken
He was told smell your smiles even when your dream nose is blocked
He was cold and turned warm in his born day with no expected understandings
He's the art of a tree

(c) Raymond Ngomane