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Free Verse Imagination Poems | Free Verse Poems About Imagination

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

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Details | Free verse | |

Touch Me

"In Touch With Myself"

I can't seem to find her
The reminder of yesterday
I shut my eyes for a few seconds
Only there, can I reach to bear upon her face
The moment I open my eyes
The earth opens and she disappears
Every now and then
Darkness takes form around the blank wall
It brings out a long lost silhouette.
-I inhale a small desire, 
reaching and tracing every line left behind.

I Just can't seem to reach her
The girl drowning deep inside
I turn around to look and feel no one by my side
It's been long since she slowly faded away
I gaze into the mirror and miss her every day
For one second past,
I swear she was there.

Lately, I can't seem to find her
That girl I was before
Empty feelings continue to lounge about
Rejecting yesterday away.
-Honestly, I don't know why I bother,
holding on to somebody that is no longer there?

By:PD

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Words - The Heart of Imagination


This seasoned evening sported a full faced  Orange Kool-Aid moon. Fully aware it was a marvel it shot me an arrogant wink. Not once but twice. I think i heard it laugh. It certainly flashed me an impish smile. Not much different than my own. No camera could ever capture a moment this precious. This needed, words- the heart of my imagination. I stepped inside. Pen in hand, iPad at my right side, laptop in front of me, desktop computer behind me, electric typewriter on my left side I was ready. I only hoped I would be able to express in words what  I had experienced. I penned this. This seasoned evening sported a full faced  Orange Kool Aid moon. Fully aware it was a marvel it shot me an arrogant wink. Not once but twice. I think i heard it laugh. It certainly flashed me an impish smile. Not much different than my own. 09~11~2014 Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A Contest Name: Best Poem of 2014

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

I Write

Tiptoeing towards the edge of the towering cliff I flap my wounded wings and fly over tall two hundred year old oak trees up to the top of the highest of mountains scanning a never ending sovereign sky I glide effortlessly in the strong southern trade winds watching the fawn and her doe in the wilderness My heart starts to beat, and I write I write of the fragrant fancy free daisies growing unrestrained of the sun smiling down reflecting in the fast flowing babbling brook of the doe munching on the savory green and yellow grasses oblivious to her surroundings , the fawn firmly within her sight I hear the songs coming from the red breasted baby Robin calling to her mother wondering when she'll return with dinner my heart beats lovingly and I write I soar higher and higher heading for the heavens past the mammoth yellowish orange coloured moon through the mysteries of the milky way all along thinking of the mysteries lying inside you I open my eyes, imagine I'm with you and I write

Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

White Picket Fence

Featuring: Keith :)
----------------------
Fresh sand garments 
The Mental Colosseum floor
Self-infliction's--waging wars 
----------------------

~ AND THE POEM BEGINS ~

A mask, tiny holes
Breathing heavily
Dancing around my toes
Broad carbon steel
Safe behind my will
Equipment of revenge
Fencing the world with my eyes

I bow, with the morning dew,
 My mind a dual in its own world.
When the curtains lift,
I prepare myself with a weapon--   
Epee Crest to protect my chest
A sword sharper than  fangs
I circle my blade around the door knob 
Ready to face the world 
Practicing --in hopes today, I won't retreat

“Fencers ready!"
ATTACK!
A magical knightress
Painted in white
"Let's dance!"

~ THE SHOW BEGINS ~

Queen Amri  "VS" The Damsel 
Wishing it was over
Stainless steel echoes
“Every poke counts”
 Hoping & Taking
 
No room to disengage   ---I retreat
Peacefully I secure my stance 
On Guard!
I lean in, I disengage  ---I flee
Back again, I lunge 
The Queen is too smart to retreat
I -Amri, parry away from the argument of the lunge.
Recoil & Double tapped
In and out….. I'm struck
Boldness---
Back to the drawing board
On guard, I stand like a statue
Out of breath; feels like I'm dying
Yet I am still fighting.
The Queen knows what to do.   
TODAY~
I Yield, She Wins!

Raising our foils 
---At the on guard of another day

I move in swiftly, cutting like razor blades
Using refreshed energy
24 / 7 
I attack, She provokes!
Sand runs its course
Victorious against the queen
Touch – tied – triumph -- Touché
Standing on my own 2 feet

I am the 
-Grand Finale Show-
Conquering The Battles Inside
TODAY~
-I WIN!-

by; PD

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

FORBIDDEN

~ZOMBIE NIGHT~ 

WHINING WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night
Echoes of the dead roam the air
Moonlight vanishes to complete despair
Bones slowly desert distorted resting homes
Ascension of the dead -Longing to live again 

Sands of desert flip the hour glass back
WHIMPERING WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night
Echoes of the dead roam the air
Moonlight vanishes to complete despair
Bones slowly desert distorted resting homes 

Taking light from where evil stays 
Feeding away leaving behind a death valley zone
WONDERING WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night
Echoes of the dead roam the air
Moonlight vanishes to complete despair

Dead souls forsake the common land
Shadowing like Equinox light 
Walking corpse covered in rotten barren sand
WINDY WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND 
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night
Echoes of the dead roam the air

Upright, forward broken taboo 
Searching for the perfect breath of fresh air
Sounds of symbols march the ground
Searching to find their missing heartbeat
WHISKING WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night


Ascension of the dead  -Long to live again 
Bones slowly desert distorted resting home
Moonlight vanishing in complete despair
Echoes of the dead roam the air
Rugged ruins crumble silent through the night
WHEN WHISPERS MOVE ACROSS FORBIDDEN LAND

by;PD

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

The Color of Silence

If you could paint a picture of silence
What color would it be?

Would you use the brush of fog to hush all sound 
A shade of gray, with touch of brown,
where eaves are dripping to the ground
and windows weep their quiet tears
Where solitude obscures the view
In a slate of lonely winterlude?

Or would it be a shade of green
A forest deep, of muted breeze
No sound to scatter birds from trees
No broken branches, swaying grasses
Missteps that crackle the fallen leaves
Untouched by clatter, harsh and rude?

Would silence be as black as night
A cave too deep for shards of light
A void within a famished core
A well of dark and empty shores?

Or would silence be of many hues?
A rainbow shade of morning dew
A soft pastel of sun declining?
No bedlam, blast or blare of noise
Could break the spell, a silent voice 
As if the soul could slip away....

A hush,  immense.....so sweet and keen, 
Like ghosts unseen, or angels soft as air...
A silent sea, ....where mountains lend an ear
As clouds pile high, ....and wait to hear...
Only for this:  such peace....such bliss
A sound so small, ... as welcome as a sigh

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

Nightmares and Razor Blades

I stare at my ceiling,
I start to wonder, why am I not healing?
Then it dawns on me,
The nightmare clip starts to roll.
I shake and shiver and wince at every little thing.
I'm scared to death, 
What does this all mean?
I start to cry,
I feel as if I might die.
Then I grab my blade, 
The tears come quicker.
My breath starts to quicken,
My grip on the blade makes my knuckles turn white.
In the mirror is where I see that my ivory skin is now blotchy and red.
I tell myself, "This may be the last time, if you finally cut deep enough."
So I try my best not to make a sound 
As I sit up in bed and hold my wrist out in front of me. 
I count to three,
One, 
I put the blade to my wrist.
Two,
I start to add pressure.
Three,
I yank the blade across my skin,
It pierces and then I start to bleed.
I suddenly want it to stop, 
But there's no going back now. 
I wonder why it came to this,
I know nobody cares about me,
I know nobody is going to forget me.
Quietly I say, "I'm sorry."
But nobody is there,
No one will ever be.
I start to fade out of this world,
My addiction would finally be gone,
And so would I.
I was lost, 
Lost and angry. 
Suddenly, it was gone,
I woke up screaming.
The pain was oh-so real.

Copyright © Mackenzie Lakin | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Soft Wind

Soft wind, warm and weightless 
That brushes my cheeks in cool of day
And on warm moonlit nights of summer 
Let me lay upon your expansive wings
Let me breathe deeply of your spirit
Carry me o’er God’s beautiful earth
Carry me across the turquoise seas
Where silence lies supreme as dolphins play 
Listen as their bodies slice the oceans deep 
As the sun seems to linger enjoying the view
Let me down for a whiles to walk bare feet upon warm sands
Let me frolic with gentle white crested waves, then
Carry me far beyond blue heaven’s dome
Carry me to my Fathers’ home

~*~

Copyright © Annalise a.k.a. Audrey Haick | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |

From My Treasure Trove

My life, like everybody else’s, is a treasure trove
with a mine from which one’s treasures are derived.
The familial bonds we form are platinum; our friendships gold.
These are precious ores that most souls are born to find with ease.
But all of us have other precious stones we need to mine. 
They are the fruit of skills and talents put to their best use.

My treasure trove abounds with gems already -
ones that I discovered as a child.
Though rough in their natural form, most of them I opened
as I grew in understanding of God’s gifts for me.
Others not so easy to break open were able to be shaped,
for once I sought them out inside my mine
and cracked them open. . . their radiance was revealed to me.

Our precious gems, God-given, must not be squandered.
Once mined, they need to be shared.
Artists, teachers, scientists, tradesmen, leaders, even dreamers -
we all have different kinds of gemstones hidden in our mines.

Once, later on in my own life, 
I came upon a silver tool used by many different types of artists.
I’d seen it in my youth but hardly used it.
Thousands of words lay embedded in that specific tool God gifted me.
I delved into the depths of my mine and learned
that I could tap and tap the silver worded tool upon each stone,
and finally a gem would then reveal itself to me.
The more I searched for stones to tap,
The more wondrous were the nuggets that appeared -
And there were more of them than I’d believed I could ever find -
buried there so deeply in  my mine!
The art of crafting them and polishing them up
I was able to improve upon in time. . . 
and found that even those less valuable could shine!

A poet’s gems need not be bought or sold.
Displaying them with love and pride alone can be fulfilling.
How I thrill to view a wide variety of gemstones
freely shown from others’ treasure troves.
From the rarest and the clearest multi-faceted 
color-shifting Alexandrite and tanzanite,
and the most remarkable of diamonds, rubies,
sapphires, emeralds, amethyst and jade, 
down to the lowliest of onyx, quartz, garnets, or agates,
each stone has something of the poet’s soul within it,
especially beautiful when polished to a brilliant sheen! 

The more I open gemstones in my mine, the more of them I find,
and my silver-worded tool lies nearby at the ready.

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

I dream of you (to JEW)

What shall I see when I see a picture of you 
Frame against rainbow of eternity?
I dream of you ... upon the canvas of my heart ...
Will your eyes melt the sonwflakes, do they
Like the sea glisten with the glow of hidden pearls
Are your ears to be the promegranates of my tongue
And how shall your lips taste to me?
I have dreamt of sweet pineapples, or mangoes
Or some cool sweet thing red with passion
Inflaming the skin
The first otaheite apple of the season.
When you smile, do your lips move like a palm
Slowly yielding to the joy of the wind
And shall dance from sip to sip a hummingbird
Longing to enter the deep throated flower?
I want to see you delicious as happiness
To hold you inthe perfect pear of my heart
Where sunrise lingers long, and night is like a song.
My spirit longs to cuddle you and build my nest
Upon the cushion of your brimming breasts.
O but the night has long, long miles to cross
And spirit glees while flesh counts the distant cost.


Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse | |

FLAWLESS

 FLAWLESS


A flawless world. Giving by your mother
Humanity holding hands like lovers.
Strung out deep into the sign of religion.
A flawless day at the park feeding pigeons
Attracting the positive light from the sun.
Where Global warming is undone.

A place where beauty is not found in the face.
Flawless beyond the mystery of space.
'Love' will be a feeling no one will resist.
'Hate' will be a word that won't exist.
Handing out smiles on a silver plate.
A world opened to the  golden gate.
Flawless like the wind brushing my hair.
Where my heart is filled with the warmness of care.

A flawless victory, even if we must die!

A flawless world, in a flawless dream.
Now wake me up before I scream.

~SKAT~

Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |

The Letter

"Dear Time"
Thank you for being patient, 
Thank you for understanding I'm human, after all.
Forgive me for all the mischievous prank calls. 
Much of what I said and done, was out of fun.
Now, I sit on this rocking chair getting old.
Reminiscing over the beauty and honor it has been 
   Passing this land we call "EARTH."
Reminiscing over the beauty and honor, ----- REMINISCING!
Sorry, if I repeat the same beat a thousand times....
You see, I sit here every day thinking this world is mine....
Trying to remember, who I AM.
Every moment there has ever been or ever will be, 
Is taking a toll on every single feeling and memory.
Time, Yes------------------ TIME!
The wrinkles on my face will never describe 
how many birthdays I celebrate.
The wrinkles on my face 
Tell stories reminding my readers,
 Where I've been and come from
How consistent, and fortunate I've been, 
Babbling about my past, present, and future; 
The only advantage of the word "TIME."
-- It helps fade hurting moments away--
You see, time is the essence of memories.
 
Dear Time,
"Growing from young to old, was not as easy as it sounds."
Please be patient with_____ Wait! I said that already....
Thank you for understanding what I’m going through.
Please listen, be patient with what's burning deep down inside.
It's almost dinner time -- once again, I mention the word "TIME!"
I'm not hungry, food just isn't the same when fed through a straw.
Besides, have you seen the garments ''they'' make me wear?
Never thought I'd live to see myself in old-fashioned nightgowns
Time keeps adding silver to what used to be pretty brownish red hair
Time what have you done to me?
Please excuse if I can't work a remote or function the TV properly.
What has happened to simple technology, 
   When everything came with "ON and OFF" buttons.
Time understand what I go through, my legs never felt this tired 
I can't seem to keep myself on the same path, 
I lose track of time when navigating my toes

Dear Time, 
Take my hand, lead the way and understand I can't see more
Time,  allow the joy to take its time when my end is near.
Thank you, Time, for all the loving moments we shared
Thank you, Time and please be kind and end my life with love.
End my life with love-----
End my life with love-----
Wait..... I said that already....

Dear Time, 
Thanks for having patience.

Sincerely Yours 
The Little Old Lady Across the Street

by: PD

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

LOVE at FIRST SIGHT

Love was in the air when he laid eyes on her.
Childhood; elementary and even high school with her.
Walking towards her, he greeted her.
Anxiety spiraled as he hugged her.
Conversation grew deeper as he sat with her.
Wanting to get closer because he was falling for her.

Another woman called pausing the time he was having with her.
Knowing he had to answer; he stepped away and spoke to her.
She stated that something wasn't quite right with her.
She said that her stomach had been bothering her.
Now he's thinking back if he came inside her.
Thinking if she lied to him about her tubes being tied within her.

Does he blame himself for listening to her?
Knowing right from wrong and yet he can't blame her.
Does he blame the devil for allowing him to be intimate with her?
Is he not a human that makes mistakes just like her?
Begging God to make a way for him and her.
Asking God to forgive him for committing the sin with her.

God said, "relax my son, you were only dreaming of her."

Copyright © Pace INK-U-SCRIPT | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

Beauty in my Palm

You are the wild flower in my palm
With no stem to keep you anchored to this covetous earth
You are the fragile thing I dare not cup,
As your petals whittle away under the wind
And flit unfettered in the air;
Exaggerated fear leaves my fingers numb
Hungry need leaves my fingers twitching
And my hand is paralyzed by turmoil
As every breath of wind takes another petal from me
And brings to my lungs, my chest and my heart
An overwhelming scent of need-

You are the wild beauty in my palm
And I dare not hold you to my chest
For I fear to crush you
To know first hand
That caged beauty, is beauty no more.

Copyright © Samir Georges | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |

Rude, Drunken Pen

Bloody rude drunken pen has enjoyed a nib of ink or two, reminiscing on a few 
Bad and ugly times, we both admit at times things were, a bit of a mess, 
All kinds of intertwined, confused but along the way making some progress
On the grand masterpiece of all masterpieces – writing bliss 
At first polite, we take in turns, to interject with collaborative words,
Until the air hits us hard, take a breath, where’s your etiquette, manners and respect, 
My turn pen, I command, continue on to write, scribbling like an erratic bird’s nest. 
Pen resists and spits its ink, a dirty blob from its nib…how rude 
All smudged and slurred is a dribbling rambling of everything crude
Across the page leaking its ink, clearly from excessive drink
Dancing on thin ice, my drunken pen decides to try and entice
Inviting me to envelope, his muscular body with smooth fingers 
Such fraternisation you drunken sleaze, how do you expect to please
The love of your life, giving you permission to write and express your ink with ease 
Drunken pen is at a loss as reflects on his drunken state, its very late
Blubbering relaxed words across the page, deep within and obscure
Then I realise that my drunken pen is sometimes a little insecure
He has a way of making me melt when I think of his 50 shades of blue
Each drink of ink that fills his nib, that prints our words, that stains my skin 
Is in every way the partnership of creative bliss and my perfect hue


2nd October 2012
Written for Drunken Pen - Part 2 Contest

Copyright © Shaz Cheesman | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

Brush Stroke to Uniqueness

If my mind be painted in colors borrowed, would it be red? 
Rusted in brown, or maybe instead, an indigo streak?
Depending upon the source of inspiration, 
and the song on the radio at the time of connection...
I keep coming back to sea green, 
or the blue of underwater murals at 3ft tall of childhood,
eyes wide in fickle, transient hazel
absorbing each moment, be it safe or unstable
categorizing each scent and each color
each love and each valor
each crisp Autumn, Summer
in vats of brain paint to be later unlidded
and splashed with insignias
of every person and place and event
that ever touched corneas innocent, bent
on absorption.
If my mind be painted, I think it be green
like the moment I'm lucid before I dip dreams
and hang them to dry in the gallery
"Mind's Eye"
and push to wake up to connect, signify
every sensory path that I've traveled before
to traipse them again and still come back for more.
I'm a stickler for art and with your canvas blank
my sweet innocent dear, with each word that you hear
you will brush stroke your way to uniqueness.

Copyright © Tatyana Carney | Year Posted 2006

Details | Free verse | |

When Poets Make Love

My dear poet- 
I am forever grateful to you
For allowing my body
To be your page 

Letting your words 
Ascend on my temple
And descend 
On my feet

How long will I thank God 
For giving me you
As our passionate and artistic sessions
Gracefully formed poetry in motion

Lord knows 
My body yearned 
And needed the eloquence 
Your poetry provided 

Our poetry combined 
Gave birth to volcanic verses 
And flood-like rushes 
Of the most liberated conversation

My poet laureate
Thank you for allowing 
Your art to transcend 
Into poetic actions

Your ability to allow 
Your love to flow 
Like a pen on paper
Amazes me

When poets make love 
Sacred books 
Unlock their meanings 
And the majestic powers of words 
Fill the universe 
With marvelous expressions 

Our collaborated efforts 
Awakened the most powerful of poets 
Who long ago fell asleep
Happily summoned with the stars 
To congratulate our poetic bliss 

When we made love 
Our poetry was forever 
Imprinted in the hearts 
of all poets 
past, present, and yet to come


-Written and dedicated to a very dear poet (R.C.) 

© Monique McDowell 2008  All rights Reserved

Copyright © Monique McDowell | Year Posted 2008

Details | Free verse | |

Last Night When you Were in Deep Sleep

Last night when you were in deep sleep I scribbled a poem on your bare back, a page so soft--with love bites and moles I used them to cut the t's and dot the i's; my finger tips' softly turn created ripples in a placid lake where you prepared to take a dip in your dream, my words followed you in that unknown land secretly to know your destination. I remembered to forget every scribbled word as it was my gift to the sleepless night, she was picking up each word one by one and kept them in her lap of silence. For the first time,you never knew how a poem was born and lost in the silence of night. © kash poet (kashinath karmakar) =====================================

Copyright © kash poet | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |

Kite Flying - Test

Kiss me,  I want to lift you skirt flying
Inside my heart like the wind
To dance on clouds of joy my kite
Embracing time, to hold you in my arms and spin

Festively playing in the clouds
Long lines of passion I can feel
Yearning against my string
Intermittingly fawning as you bow
Naked to the throb of wind
Garrulous like a lover moaninng

The scintillated light.
Etched upon the sweat shining
Silver shafts of ribs
Tensed in every fibre and nerve of being
               ...
I want to press my lips 
Upon your cheeks, prettier than confetti paper
And let the golden sunlight drips
Chocolate of satisfaction on my tongue
Because I made a kite like this

Then to breathe your fragrance 
Falling free
From every jasmine of your limb
Where the lissome bamboos hold firm
The quivering of my string

And when the wind exhausted
Make you loop and dip
Before suppliant eyes
To cash that boyhood zeal again
And run until you rise

Or shortening your leash
Bring you in
To closer dazzle my eyes
And let your string between my fingers fall
A ravished and splendid bride

I want to make you feel secure again
Your flying strained against my faith
Buoyed by the comfort of my love
For you the only joy that fills my eye
In the huff and blow of time

I want to lift you like the wind
And with you all my affections fly
To shout in glee from my little hill
Below unlettered clouds in pride
My kite alone to fly.

Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

The Song of Aphrodite

I have chosen You.
Sweet and handsome mortal, come to me…

Whisper to me your longings, 
and I shall tickle your ear with my saccharine breath.
I shall take you to places 
where only gods and goddesses roam.

Aware am I of how my radiant beauty entrances you...
Be thankful to the Fates that it is you I have chosen.
I have sprung forth from Ocean's foam, 
but we shall churn that sea...
Flowers at my feet would pale 
to the flowers that spring forth from my heart

How I know too well that my eyes mesmerize
A twinkle from the windows of my soul 
and I know I have captured you.
I would gladly take off these necklaces ‘round my supple neck
if it means that your lips trail soft kisses instead…

I would happily unclasp these brooches in my hair,
and let my flowing tresses 
tickle your gorgeous face and body,
as I take my turn to adorn you with my kisses.

I shall discard these golden robes made by the Kharites and the Horai
and reveal my nubile body for you to explore 
with your eyes…
…with your hands
with your lips…

Let the Seasons be forgotten,
as we move to only know of Love.

I have chosen You.
Sweet and handsome mortal, Come to me…




 August 5, 2010

Copyright © binibining P.iNk | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

The Mirror Of Time

I hold three magic rocks, in my hand. Rolling them over and over and over. Leaving this 
reality behind, far behind I stepped into the magic mirror and there I was back in 1959.  It 
was the same month, November.  I looked around and it was the same as I remember it had 
been then.  Mom looked so young and beautiful and said, "The school bus will be here in a 
few minutes."  I looked at the calendar and saw that it was November 25th, the day before 
Thanksgiving.  I said, "But mom, I haven't been in school in forty years."  I got this strange 
look from her but she didn't say anything.  Walking toward the door I caught a reflection of 
myself in the hall mirror.  I was so young.  My hand immediately went to my face and I 
stopped and stared at myself for a few minutes. I said, "Mom, can I stay home and be with 
you today?"  Again I got that strange look from her, then she smiled and said, "Sure, it's 
your last day before Thanksgiving anyway, why not?"  She and I sit down and talked for 
hours.  Then I said, "Do you mind if we go next door and visit with Maw Maw and Paw Paw?  
I haven't seen them in so long and I've missed them terribly!"  Again another strange look 
from mom. Next door I saw Maw Maw and Paw Paw as they had been in 1959.  I wept and 
they all looked at me so strangely.  I hugged them and kissed them all and we talked for 
hours.  Dad finally came home from work and I ran and hugged him so hard. "Dad why did 
you have to leave us in June?"  Again I got strange looks from everyone.  My tears were 
falling.  I saw Aunt Frances and Uncle Bill who lived beside Maw Maw and Paw Paw. "I've 
missed you both for so long." Strange looks again!  They didn't understand because to them, 
it was just another day in 1959.  The day grew late and I knew my time was soon ending.  I 
got near the magic mirror and mom and dad were standing there so young and healthy. I 
said, "Mom I'll see you on the other side of the mirror, but dad, I'll see you another time, 
another place."  They didn't understand.  I stepped back through and my reflection was as it 
had been before.  Mom was sitting in her chair at age 84.  I said, "Mom, do you remember 
the day before Thanksgiving, 1959, when I stayed home from school and we spent the day 
together?"  She said, "Yes, it was so strange that you could never remember anything about 
it.  It was as though you had amnesia.

Copyright © Marty Owens | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse | |

BLACK MAGIC WOMAN


Madame Mistress, ebonies princess,
Southern comforts golden jewel,
A golden beauty down south does dwell.
She hides many secrets beneath her,
Glittering mask of mystery's mystic spells.
A dark priestess is this Cajun queen,
Black widows magic women,
Known as Ms. New Orleans.
In her crimson gown, trimmed by
Velvet's purple hues, she smiles
Behind her white lace fan.
A beguiling angel is she the devils
 Own kindred.
The voodoo queen of the swampy delta,
Ruling over the shadow demons,
Whom guard the everglades.
Underneath fancy face and social grace,
Lies the misbegotten heart of a
 Witches soul.
Here the trumpets sound at,
La Carnival as minstrels stroll,
Down Bourbon Street with rhythmic,
Precision's precise step.
Come join in celebrations grand parade,
The Maude Gra. Where anything goes,
Here things are forgotten as the sun rises,
This grand lady of beauty's legacy's charm.
Presses one finger to her redden lips,
Speaking not more than a hushed whispers
Sigh carried across bayou.
Thus does the Spanish moss weep, for
Those lost souls swallowed whole,
Beneath nights dark covenant of death.
Ghostly images walk the muddy side shores,
Phantom spectators existing as prisoners,
Trapped in limbos web, a thin fine line
Between the living and the dead.
Beware lone travelers, those for whom,
Seek mysteries glamor and mystic,
Of the southern by ways.
All are welcome to taste our spicy
Hospitality.
Yet beware pay homages respect,
To Mz. New Orleans, she after all takes
Great care of her own.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

 


Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Night's sentry

Oh blackest night,
how elegantly you 
do decorate your canopy.
Twinkling stars 
sparkle gloriously 
in the Heavens.
Brightest yellow moon
shining it's beautiful face,
keeping watch as sentry
to Earth's mysterious gates.

Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse | |

A tall grass story

As I lie here, eyes half closed, I wonder
Why does the grass wave to me?
Has the summer breeze asked it to greet me
And if so, what does it wish to say
But I think the Chinese whispers of a thousand blades
Might confuse the message beyond recognition
Perhaps I should ask instead, the shaded underbelly of the lonesome oak,
Standing aloof mid-field
For surely he hears the same story from the breeze
And then again perhaps I have it all wrong, it's a message from the grass,
So many strands waving their message make the pleasant breeze
If that is the case then, I think I must lie here a while longer
And listen to the story they wish to tell

Copyright © Nick Bagnall | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

Tiger eyes

Something shining, glinting in the Darkness,
golden points of light stare back at me,
and tell me just where the predator hides, 
waiting to spring upon me.
Will the beauty tear me apart?
Or will it leap in play,
purring like a kitten?
The mirror clouds over, 
hiding what it sees.
And I know, the danger lies within.

Copyright © Amy Frazey | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

EDGER ALL POE

Our dark founding father, of American literature,
A sinister beacon of darkness, lighting the way
Into the darkened abyss of mankind’s soul.
Within the galleria of madness, he is the
Grandmaster of the black ink, and it's
 Written words of terror.
In thus the shadow realm, does his spirit
Still roam, on the cutting edge of fear,
A fine thin line, is drawn between reality,
And fictions illusionary world.
Life's a shunned, abandonment’s creation,
The lord's misbegotten son, embraced
The night's cloak, in it's power
His only salvation unto history's
 Remembrance, is found a truth's
Justice and notability's respect.
Loves passionate compliant servant,
Dashed against the rocks of life itself,
Broken and damaged, he rose above
The waves of poverty, and the under
 Current of tragedies broken
Heart.
Some may say he wrote from the after
Effects that laid, at the bottom
 Of the bottle.
Or afterfeeds drug endued comma, dulling
The emotional nerves concept between
Right and wrong, the social exceptionable
Norm.
But we care not what others wish to believe,
For we honor him, those of us the dark poets,
As the father whom lead the way, between
Light and dark.
Dearest Edger Allen Poe, the legend, the man,
A spiritual dark representative, with pens quailed
Ink at his command.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN



















Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Probing the Unconscious Space

If the unbearable lightness of being has pushed you to the brink of catastrophic meltdown,
walk to the edge of our flat two-dimensional existence 
and take a leap of faith...

You may drift through space for quite some time
eyeing the stars, the planets, the galaxies
that make up the great and boring universe beyond.

Eventually you'll come across darker, scarier territory,
unseen with the naked eye
yet comprising 95% of all matter,
and all that matters,
otherwise known as the unconscious.

Some day you'll feel safer in the void, 
more secure,
at peace.

With not one mirror in sight to reflect your self concept,
everything and nothing make perfect sense here,
for they are one and the same.

You are the only observer
of man's true final frontier
and his one and only mystery.

Copyright © Yoni Dvorkis | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse | |

So Close

Midst the dark of night, 
neath the veil of moonlight, 
I'll wait for you,
my eyes never losing sight of your face, 
always in touch with your hand.

Somewhere in time is where we’ll begin,
consummating our moment for an eternity.
Until then make love to me with words, 
echo them within my heart, 
etch them upon my memory.

Our embrace will last forever;
through many flames our love has endured.
We have sewn our seeds beyond the depths of ordinary,
drowning out hate, reaping love’s serenity.

Tonight, I will dream you here,
so close to see the love in your eyes,
to drown inside the pool of your need,
soaring past Luna’s seductive lips,
as she whispers your name to me....
So close.~

Copyright © T.Nicole Williams | Year Posted 2006

Details | Free verse | |

Lamenting over an old world

We, who are strangers to this virgin land Have succumbed to the impossible Astonished by the solitude Still numbed by grief for what is gone.... We stand in voiceless fixity and gaze Upon the blue veined world we've left behind It seems so weightless in the sky And out of the chill of marbled sorrow We weep for all those lost tomorrows Although eyes might be deceived From here what's seen would be a lie Remains yet beautiful to the eyes We stand wide eyed, upon new shores And look from here, to the earth so far How fragile, is our earth still spinning As we grasp at new beginnings How precarious a world, untouched, can be Have we learned, from where we've been? We must recall,.... recall it all Look how it spins, against the stars Oh God, ...so fragile, frail and small Let me turn my head, I cannot bear to watch, I must close my eyes before it falls....
_____________________________

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

Bewitching

A magic forest
   Where chipmunks slide down moon beams
       And squeal with delight

Oh listen! You'll hear
    robins splash their tiny feet
        in pools of dewdrops

Like laughing children
    Crickets are playing their harps
        And dancing with joy

 Sweet songs at bedtime
   Moss covered carpets, soften
       the music for sleep

Hushed now, cadence of
   summer evening melody
      bewitching the dark
   



..................................................................................................................................
For Tirzah's "Fantasy" contest

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2009