These Farewell Free Verse poems are examples of Free Verse poems about Farewell. These are the best examples of Farewell Free Verse poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
Lost in a poets convention,
I can't recall every poem, I've read through the years
50518, unique comments I 'validate'---
Thank You For Sharing Your Happy and Sad tears
Since March 24, 2010 In the mist of every line,
I'm sending special hugs, for he/she that favorite me through the years
A praise to all poets mentioned and not mentioned
I will miss, the sweetest girl on this block LEONORA G.,
She treats me with love, adores my words and twisted poetry.
I will start with the soups famous October, 7th babies,
Frank and Kash, Debbie D, and myself, these lines belong to us,
Our best characteristic has everything to do with the mind
In our poetic hearts you'll find the symbol of justice and balance
This is not a song, it is not a poem, it's a free falling memo written with style
Back in March 2013, I said it then, I'll say it again
Andrea, you and only you are the Poet Queen
By the Queen, sits the Poet King of rhymes, Robert L. Hinshaw
Thank you both for never stepping on your loyal subjects
Carol B., & Linda Marie, no one can replace the hole you left inside
I will miss all the little poetry pups, who came and sat by my side
MAHIMA and Saanvi, and Sabrina, thank you for the encouragement
Phyllis, Joyce, Francine, Rhonda, Betty, sweet Karen A., and Catie,
Clap your hands for the lovely quiet soup ladies.
Okay, maybe not Karen A., and Catie, these ladies love speaking their minds:)
SARA K., a mentor to some, a Fairy Godmother in my book
I will miss her "Magic Pen like Wand" dearly.
Gail, thank you for spreading your wings, and teaching us how to fly.
Hopefully --wings are a nice gesture, --waving--
"One day I'll see you again, my friend."
Daver Austin, "Go ahead, make my day" thank you for the show
Now, you know why I referred to you as, "The Clint Eastwood of Poetry."
Russell Survey, encouraged my days and moods with his kind words
Scribe ML., where are you my friend?
Don't you know your BIGGEST FAN misses you!!!
Dr Ram, Bindu V, Litan D., Donna J, Shadow, Sandra A., Peter Durgan,
Giorgio V., Mystic Rose, BL Devnath and of course our Nette.
Thank you for being kind and rewinding and replying to every note.
Joseph M., Caleb S., Vincent F., Juliet L., Lucy Carrillo, Scott 37, Johnny R.,
Kelly D., thank you for the honor in always honoring my words
Roger Horsch meets Eileen Ghali, your smile, her smile always made me smile,
No matter how many miles apart, our smiles always met on the same page.
Jenish, Don J., S.Z. Kamoonpuri, Gideon, Gary, Austin E., and Jody M.,
Fatima N., Mark N., Aiyah B., Ralph F., Kathryn C., Elly, Ayesha A.,
Clay W., Erich, Syam, MIKKI, John B., Olusegun, *Sukmawati* Gwen,
Delysia H., Frederic P., Richard L., Brenda L., Keith, Debbie G.,
Thank you for painting the best IMAGERY
Michale Clarke, Charma C., Wayland B., Jancarl C., Carrie, and Harry,
M&M, Abdulhafeez, Michael B., Maria P. S., CHAN and Mandy T.
You are only the beginning of what makes this a good community
Arlid A., Dinda M., Silly Billy, Tim Ryerson, we go way back.
Ravindra, Kim M., Richard S., Honestly JT., Wade A., Dom-X.
The ingredients in your poems, makes the best soup remix
Joe M., Jack H., James H., James P., Tim B., Jon A. C., Allan K., Matthew A.
Deb Wilson, David S., David William, Thomas S., Cecilia M.
Keep that pen flowing for tomorrow needs poets like you.
Justin B., Laura B., your words will continue to be a part of me.
Owen Y., and John L., your visits, your friendship I will never forget
Yasmin and Carl F., hanging out with you on the soup was the best.
Cherl Dunn, and Colleen Bono, SandyIvy, I will miss everything about you,
Mostly I will miss your friendship and the way you took care of me.
Poet and sister Skat, keep rocking what I can't....
Copy paste your love, welcome in the new.
Show Edwina, Robin, Sam B., and all the NEW POETS they belong
Last but not least-- Behind every mess, they are the best
--Craig Cornish and Cyndi McMillan
What have you done, I admit without you this place would have been no fun.
Thank you for the spin, making every penny worth our paid premium memberships
Before I forget,
I want to take this time to reminisce and add two old friends to my hot list.
Nikko and Chris A..... My first POETRY SOUP FRIENDS.
I will never forget you, and all the fun moments we had,
Back when the soup was not like this:)
Chris, can you ever forgive me, I never stepped up to say "I was Sorry!"
As you know my kindness is my weakness
Now it's time to be strong and move on
If one day I return, then you know, I fell off the wagon
And, into arms and luring fingers of Team Poetry Soup
The Poet Destroyer
When my final shadows cling on desperately
Where I fight formidable battles
to merely hold the light
I send you loving vibrations
and soul sustenance
Deep from the cathedral
of one heart to another
where today no choirs sing
nor symphonies play
Yet it is here where we meet
in spiritual solace
here to surrender
and exchange inestimable treasures
like unopened letters
Galaxies are stretched
over chronicles of shared history
Nebula birthing stars
will be exposed
in forth-coming conversations
bringing short-lived fulfillment to you
Hungry to feast
now will be the time
to approve your blood art vision
and with my own haunting surrender
as dappled shades ink stain your chest
I will reside with you and share, mesmerised
pens - by branding
as this will be your written reams to me
your artist's pallet or brushed canvas
no need for words
and yet creating
mysterious magical moments
Bitter-sweet the music
that dances taut guitar strings
but now blood approved
please go kick your heel up
return to your laughter
and ride on the breeze
for not all are lost
for I am with you always
to love, listen and comfort as one
with you in me and I in you
there is something about the cuddle of mist
that washes the pain of love's farewell
like a damp of healing elixir,
so softly touching my navel
to ignite back the glaze
within my marrow;
and breaths sing with playful twilight
about fresh enchantment blessed...
now i greet the flowering of joy
with unopened gifts,
knowing goodbye is a beautiful wound
as one star plays night keeper of reflective hours
humming a new tune, dainty yet unknown,
that in the solace born from ache and joy,
i welcome it all-- the fire, wonder, and sighs.
Any Poem #5 Contest: Nathan A.
His rheumy eyes film over and he brushes away a tear
with the age-spotted back of his hand.
He watches himself as a young man –
handsome, vigorous, full of joie de vivre.
The members of his orchestra now arthritic.
Or ashes long since scattered into oblivion,
like the beautiful soprano in the film.
But for the duration of the archive footage
they are all young again.
The film ends and their philharmonic youth
is silent memory once more.
He struggles to press rewind but his gnarled finger
presses fast-forward by mistake.
He thinks that time has been on fast-forward
and wishes he could find the rewind control for his life.
With a sigh, he presses play and fades away,
watching his immortal youth.
I want to love you,
But how can I, when you... you treat me like this!?
No more! No more! No more!
I loved you once and have for always.
But no more will I love you for who you have become, but for who you
My love, I love you but this is my farewell.
He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
He had a rough life
growing up through the depression,
but like he always does,
he got through it.
He has two boys, of whom he is so proud.
Moved from Regina, to Victoria.
He had the best life anyone his age could have wanted.
But ever since his wife died,
he has not been the same.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it,
He is not the same person that I used to know.
He been sentenced to the prison in his own mind.
Possessed by the thoughts of his dogs ashes.
He likes to play the blame game,
but we know he doesn't remember that it was him.
He wakes up in the night
shaking with pain,
tears streaming down his face.
There is nothing we can do,
Two more tylenol.
Hold on to hope
for as long as you can,
It's only a matter of time now.
He gets vocal, a very loud tone.
He'll block you in your room
and make false accusations
But we know that it's the pain induced monster in him.
Tick tock, tick tock...
You can't handle the stress anymore
you have to leave.
Just hope for the best,
maybe it will get better.
Surprise, it doesn't.
Your denial is foolish, everyone knows
what happens next.
All results of
R.I.P. William Dale Eubanks
d. July 1, 2012, aged 68 yrs., Tennessee Ridge, Tennessee
Death came as no surprise
the first Sunday in July;
it claimed you, on a ridge in Tennessee,
with kin who took you in and waited with you
through the last hard days.
You kept what fears you had well hid,
did not betray with loud complaint
the fate you could not but know awaited.
A smile, a joke, a hug – exotic meals –
And genuine interest greeted all you met.
And you were, certainly, never boring
but well-traveled and smart
beyond the telling.
We’ll miss your wit, your bright demeanor,
and will remember all you freely gave ---
and what you took from us
with your passing.
Inspired by a Art gallery and a poem by Shelly.
A room full of mottled multicolored butterflies
captured within a creative space
of artful design
to inspire and aspire
Flirt and flutter a delicate ballet
among the pot plants
A splash of color
among a drab row of urban gray
The door is opened
and the butterflies are released to freedom
flying high above
lush green trees
in clear unblemished skies
floating like autumn fallen leaves
in a gentle breeze
that rested on my heart for a while
and made it smile
bringing pleasure to my eye
A symbol of freedom and eternity
filling my dreams
with all the treasures of summer.
Peter Dome.copyright.2013. Sept.
Of dust, of dirt;
suspended, lost, remarkable.
Of no merit;
forgotten, under the tall trees.
And bury him;
No accurate history serves.
buried in sand,
buried in dirt.
His face will carry forth,
past this miserable state.
Of dust, of dirt;
frozen in time.
How can one express the baffling depths of obscurity?
How can one behold to open the shafts of the mind?
I have never been able to solve the mystery—
Of myself. . .
I wish at times that my life was no more
That I could live as another and finally see things right
But I am always stuck in this darkness
And I cannot see this mind in light
There are beasts. . .demons prowling through the wasteland
Searching for any remaining life
And if they are ever found—
They are doomed and consumed
Fear is their downfall and they never fail to smell it
Their ashes remain, dancing with the imaginary breeze
It is silent here—there are no answers
I wish there were answers. . .
But maybe there was never a reason
No answers. . .
Talons extend and clench around my heart
They will never seek me out—they left me here
It is like they knew…I had no reason—that was the answer
I feel the pulse of my dangling life
Alone in the dark, whimpering like a child
I have scared myself, becoming this dragon-daggered youth
No balm in Gilead!
No eyes to see
All I know will never be free
I don’t need anyone!
You are a disgrace—scum of the waste!
You have everything, you ungrateful little nothing
You are a joke. . .
So swallow it all up like the pushover you are
Stand your lowest and trudge right through
No questions. No answers. Just . You.
Or just lie back down into the mush of disease
It has already infected you to the core
Accept who you are, you ugly pestilence!
I hate you
Who are you to be glorified?
Dream snatcher. . .murderer of all things bright
Saturated in what you call light
I see right through—even as the reflections shatter
All of the dead kept you alive—they all matter…
But alive you are the worst there is
False savior—edited attention whore
I never want to see your face again
See, that’s why I hide. . .
Desperation. . .desperation. . .
I sob and cry kneeling in defeat
For once I am right. . .I am right