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Free Verse Life Poems | Free Verse Poems About Life

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

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Details | Free verse | |

Where The Sycamore Grew

The house seemed smaller, now seen with older eyes...
The street seemed narrower, the trees taller..
Where once were open fields across the road
New construction had bloomed
The small fruit orchard had disappeared

But somehow we knew it would still be there....
Strangely different, ...yet much the same

There was an unfamiliar small red tricycle
On the flagstone path that we laid...
In front of this little house that lies
Beyond the curve, where the old sycamore grew...

Suddenly, thirty years faded into that autumn day
And quickly had become a springtime of our lives..... 
...of first Christmas trees,..of first anniversaries...
            ...a place where I cried night after night when mother died...
                       ...and spent long, starry nights holding newborn babes.... is all still there, in the little yellow house

Funny, but I'm glad they kept the yellow...
It has the same white shutters...
The little yellow house, with a flagstone pathway that we laid
That sits beyond the curve, where the old sycamore grew...


Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Free verse | |


Sweeping through your scotch broom,
weeping over your cobblestones,
lilting around the columns of Calton Hill,
is an Age of Reason so brilliantly brooding,
some nights I am kept awake
listening to Pendragon's breath caress Arthur's Seat,
and whispers drip from sills on Ramsay Street.

Though roots may drink from a sleepless night,
when morning light creeps through the curtains,
my love for you is renewed.

*This is a re-post 
replacing an opinionated piece


Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner

Details | Free verse | |

Love Poem - 29

Every day, I fall in love with something new,
while maintaining the love I have already found.

I fall in love with scars, wrinkles,
redundancies and repetition,
items that people throw into the wind,
kick around and step upon.

I fall in love with my enemies,
one of life's hardest lessons to learn.
I find haters to be marvelous motivators.

Every day, I fall in love with something new,
while reinforcing the love I have already found.

The old man who sits in a rain-filled gutter,
seemingly oblivious to the water sluicing down the hill,
splashing against his clothes -
fists raised up to the heavens in fury
as he talks to an invisible audience
about how Apollo stole his dearly beloved wife....

....I fell in love with him too.

I fall in love with things that some people deem as insignificant,
ugly, morose, dirty and immoral.
The more I fall in love, the more I love each passing moment,
including the pain, torture and misery that may appear along the way.

If I write down treasonously treacherous words,
the reader could assume such words to be rooted in rage
or a cynical outlook. But the words are actually born out of love -
I love every single word in existence.

Every day, I fall in love with something new,
while still maintaining the love I have already found.

I fall in love with the woman 
who is too shy to have a proper conversation with anyone,
because she believes herself to be very ugly,
when in fact, she is an exquisitely gorgeous woman.

I fall in love with broken daffodils, bent daisies,
a shattered seashell, the sweet stench of rotting seaweed on the shore,
the way her hair smells baking in the sun.
I fall in love with black and white photographs,
hypnotized by the essence the dead have left behind.
I fall in love with marbles, the feathers of mourning doves,
and with the stray cat who after watching the moving truck drive away,
slunk around the alley in search of scraps -
over the years, she has proven to be
a most respectful and loyal animal.
I fall in love with saints, villains, rusted watering cans,
the way sunlight bends into prisms when it shines
through the cracked antique windowpane
which I simply cannot find the presence to replace.

And as for the people who think that my love is a whole
different spectrum of emotions,
or how it is impossible for someone like myself
to fall in love with something new, every, single day....

....well, I love them too.

April 6th, 2012

Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner

Details | Free verse | |


    The sky resembles the robin's eggshells
                                                      scattered across the ground,

a blue so seemingly infinite                     yet fragile,
cracks running between understanding and madness
       complementing each other

as divine truths in their own right
to conquer my mind,
to unhinge the doors,
making it unnecessary to pick rusted locks

      letting thoughts fly free,
                                       releasing love out into the horizon.

If frozen within caged snapshots of mildewed expectations,
      it will surely die,
                 but even so,
  I was willing to strangle it by holding on too tightly.

    Until I saw the sky and eggshells today

      Peppered clouds reflected on the water,
                                            paralleling speckles on the eggshells,
                                    remind me of the freckles on your face.

  We need to be wide-open-free,
                                                we need to fly,
         without focusing too hard on shells of yesterdays.

We need to unclench our fists,
unclench our tongues,
explore the vast blue peppered sky 
                                                      on wings of letting go....

 so that we can once again feel with purity,       
 so that we can hold each other ever closer.


Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner

Details | Free verse | |

Of Ink

   Partial Paper
 -A poet in heat-

Ink carries its own tale,
When moonshine intoxicates your pen
Bottles of ink fill your mind
Composing symphonies on every line
Drops of passion all over the mask you wear
Nothing compares to black stains and broken nails

This part of you 
The tough skin you'll ever live in
Fountain pens of split identities
Who Are You?
Sinking  words like no other
Poisoned ink piercing every rhyme
Inferior poet, making the heart pure
Anger plus anger "GIVE ME MORE!"

You have a desire to paint all day,
Breathing and beating in every way
Toxic lines, from which ink flows
Inhaling images from the world
Deep and cold sorrowed emotions 
True love is always easy to poetize
Dear Poet:  "Ink Never Lies."

Pretty pink acrostic ink when she's nearby
Sugar and salt, Epic taste of reality
Ballads sang under the full moon
Sunny Sonnets, on any rainy day
Ode's of rivers from your past
A dark smile jotting down memory lane
Monologue tears brought under pressure
Loading cartridges of fresh Senryu and Haiku"
Dramatic red runs through your veins when all is done
Unfolding old and new propaganda's
POET: You are my favorite verse in every stanza
((Only this, and nothing more))
Writing is like giving birth


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A

Details | Free verse | |

Tonight I Could Paint A Moonlight

Tonight is not like other nights Tonight I could paint a moonlight with the smudged ink of my tears No its not the inexperienced arms of death which are longing to embrace my breath that fill this soul with pain and fear Nor is it the breeze of thousand needles 'neath the soft glow of my skin , What scares me most is... Not being here in a twenty years or so to tread love's kiss upon my daughter's cheek Feel my fingers running through her hair Listen to the sweet sound of her laughter Make a wish under the unnoticed starry stars and watch her dance beneath a repetitive boring sky. What scares me most is... Not being here in a twenty years or so To let the crimson of my lips bleed its rose close to your pillow and its fragrance 'pon your bed Its not being here to hold your blemished hands and say to you all words still left unsaid What scares me most is... That in a twenty years or so You will be here , still hating candles,all alone, Its missing the chance, to share those words that don't make sense yet mean that I have loved you all along. In a twenty years or so ...In a twenty years or so Will the ones I hold so dear still find a way to know ?

Copyright © Charmaine Chircop

Details | Free verse | |


Long before Horus' exposure on its trunk
and the nailing of Jesus upon its grain,
rings have been added within the Tree
while people proclaim to hold the key
of salvation, a continually borrowed mythology
swallowed; a powerful sleeping pill

pulling the masses into slumber,
away from the obvious truth
that such supposed salvation 
is a ticket far too easy to obtain,
a discriminatory damnation of souls
so blindingly righteous,
even the most vengeful, maniacal deity
would draw the line there.

So many people hand-out the easy tickets,
cut and light the tree --
a hypodermic injection of selfish memories
mixed into mortar for temples designated as sacred,
but the elements are desecrated by swirling sewers,
by shears amputating roots from the sky.

Too many people preach, judicate, proclamate,
hold signs pointing towards a cheap, polystyrene heaven,
while only a few walk the narrow path,
live the sacrifice because it feels right.

Again and again, 
the ticket isn't so easy,
we must put aside our slumber-crutches,
stop watching the few carry the rest
upon their backs until bones creak and groan
from the weight of people waiting for salvation
to be handed to them.

27 years, a branch in the road, 46664 etched into its bark.
The forked doors opened,
a living, breathing gospel
brought down fences,
and even then the wood was made into crutches
for people to say, 
"M will fix it, M will do this, M will do that,
M will save us, just wait and see."
But M is finally free, yes, he is free!
Free, but not lost to us,
always surviving as spirit-seeds.

We must no longer lean upon crutches,
instead purge the pill from our blood
and awaken into gardeners who water the seeds
within the soil of our souls,
before the vision withers completely,

and we remain only as husks
waiting to be hydrated by watering cans
held in hands too weak to lift the weight....

held in our own hands all along, 
held in our hands all along.

*Inspired by Madiba Mandela

December 7th/8th, 2013


Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner

Details | Free verse | |


The farm
     and the porch light hums 
the sound of another 
orange dawn.

Burnt up – crisp
      aching new reaches 
of the imagination turn 
from corn
      to wheat
to the pungent shade
of dried blood on hands –
kissing corners of a mouth
never kissed.

Sweeping ‘cross in whispers 
two thousand years
      and more, come
words on the flat-line horizon,
dripping sideways,
like a red cat's eye marble 
on a circular seesaw
that knows no bounds;
rolling infinitely back
     and forth - 
ringing through ears that were once
in that ago (can you hear it?)
hearing the coming of a storm 
     being heard 
by another set of ears,
in some other when –

     some other marble.

When, speaks the unspoken.
When, treads where none may tread.
When, grips the barren outcroppings of space –
playing the unending moments –
where no other question hence forth

can grip.

Night sounds come in floods
of mauve,
      and quiet apricot;
slicing through oceans,
      where no ears hear.

The farm: echoing, lowing and fawning –
Trying to stay true 
      to form,
bleeds into the fibers of a dream
once lived –
recognizing its existence
through the act of a moment, 

The girl turns to face 
the enormity
of all she has yet to hear upon 
      the brazen, blazing horizon;
she strips down to goose bumps 
on the skin
that God gave her; 
opening her mouth to hear all
that she is –
      breathing in the dawn 
as it breaks.

The farm notes this coming.

The sky knows;

The wind knows.

The earth knows - relaxing
at her feet
through her soles,
resounding through the mouth
of the un-kissed,

breathing through this land; 
humming through porch lights,
spinning through atoms,
sifting though heavens,
recorded through lifetimes,
      and through into another’s
open mouth.

© Kristin Reynolds 1/9/09

Copyright © Kristin Reynolds

Details | Free verse | |


Frothy waves stretch to kiss toes
Hikers plodding sandy coasts
Leaving imprints on the shore

Who journeyed here, perhaps this morn
As the orange orb created dawn
Summoning sun worshipers

Footprints far too large to fill
Descended down the shell-strewn hill
Then hugged the waves’ low tide

The retirement community
Sends scouts here daily just to see
If the sands of time still wait

Alas, they do, imprints remain
Sacrificed to sea when evening tide returns again

Their legacies erased each day
Another scout, another age
Will surely cast its prints anew

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire

Details | Free verse | |

- Every Breath You Take -

To get my heart in the right rhythm, I have to catch your inner you
Holding hands kiss colors inside sunshine warm paradise 

Together we share our dreams with a glass of pink champagne
Celebrating a living memory of eternal beauty sparkling gems glisten

We will find ourselves in an everlasting magical journey
Where the golden barley shakes silken softly whispers in our breeze

I'll walk with you through ages of time
Uniting as one shadow embraced dancing silver treasure

Pure angel of dawn, you've stolen my heart
Weightless without body floating beautiful falling inside the soul's desire 

Written by L. Mcdaid & A-L Andresen :)  18.04.2015 
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Anne Lise Andresen

Details | Free verse | |

- New Life Awakens -

With a loving heart,
filled with peace and harmony
In the afterbirth new life emerges
An eternal optimist in Spite of living

Starlight sparkles in this globe softly glistens
Everything seems to be perfectly normal
Gentle spirit refines where the thought is good
Dream you shine a warm sunbeam gift

We live for truth and justice sake
The numbered days and duration of happy feelings
A glimpses of human life takes shape
Golden delicious fruit of Eden

Happiness can not be conquered, 
it must be openly received
A sun melting inside warm thoughts
Staring across the horizon clouds pearl white

My desires, my needs, my happiness
As fallen people with meaningless deeds
Dreamy cotton skies echo into one song
The ability to grasp facts of nature around us

Faraway mountains sailing yearns
Over the hills a warm thought in breeze blows 
Starlight twinkles in the eyes of a dream 
Coasting along on a deep blue sea wave kiss

Written by L. Mcdaid & A-L Andresen :)  25.08.2015 
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Anne Lise Andresen

Details | Free verse | |

- A One Way Ticket -

Hills come alive with sweet sounds of birds whistling tunes
Filled with harmonious peace, you sail within time
Gentle whispering winds through branches of trees call

When you dare to take the first step forward
Everything feels so easy embracing such beauty 
Mixing voices of nature talk deeply flowering 

Thrown into the unknown life is truly magical
A universe inside feelings explode in one gift
The soul eclipsing delight warmed with sunshine rays

Like a virgin being on guard of the tiger claws, lions, bears and snakes
Only when your starlight kisses clouds evaporate 
Time continues and the butterfly waltzes freely once more

Crossing paths in this journey new beginnings grow
Small wild strawberries threaded upon a stem beg to taste
Opening one gateway within thoughts 

Setting sail into another world beyond 
With you salt of the ocean waves rise and fall
Upon rocks kissing pillar of strength

A cool breeze says goodbye upon your cheek
Loving spices land this boat on paradise sands where gold sparkles warm beams
When we meet at Heaven's gate batting lashes close entering a doorway into a dream 

Written by L. Mcdaid & A-L Andresen :)  05.09.2015 
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Anne Lise Andresen

Details | Free verse | |


         Oh I am but a simple leaf
         withering within the gutter
         one summer of bliss
         now! Just an autumn flutter.

                   For some; destine to fall
                   upon stony ground, a part
                   of life’s infernal gyration.
                   Yet for those that fall
                   within your reach, to live
                   on within your soul!

         While limbs that stretch
         towards the solstice, create
         vivacious veins as channels of hope,
         a pledge of foliation continues
         to endure what spring has
         furnished; autumn expires. 

                   Yes! If we can but learn
                   from nature’s complex simplicity,
                   that life be of a cycle
                   from the seed we are conceived,
                   then let spring be my beginning
                   winter my exultant eve!

         Let our two cultures
         merge as one, the
         decomposed humus
         to become the sustenance;
         our transfusion the
         new beginning.

                   Let us breathe the
                   fragrance of born again;
                   let each slender limb,
                   stout body bear our
                   tenaciousness, each lyrical
                   leaf our life’s blood.

          Let us mollycoddle each
          precious tear that falls from a
          angry sky; dance gracefully
          upon the wind, embrace
          on moonless nights, bathe
           in summer madness.

                   Let us hear the bluebell call,
                   the daffodil pray, the apple
                   blossom bear witness; the
                   clamour of the field mouse
                   the pitapat of the butterfly
                   the silence of lovers in love.

             Let us be sanctuary to the
             symbolic songstress, scuttling
             squirrel, vulgar urchin;
             a fortress for the warrior
             a haven for the pacifist
             an inspiration for the poet!


                  The call of springtime
                   we will invoke,
                     logging representative
                      we will gladly choke;
                        nature’s guardian.
                          “This! Obliging old oak.”

Copyright Harry J Horsman 2000



Copyright © harry horsman

Details | Free verse | |

This Girl

This girl, she's crying inside,
But all everyone sees is smiles,
This girl, she's hurting inside,
She's lived like this for quite a while,
Always holding her pain inside, 
She won't ruin everyone's time,
This girl, she's breaking down inside,
But all she does is smile,
Those deep eyes,
Hold a lot world of misery,
Playing pictures from her mind,
Showing her past, her history,
She doesn't want to remember,
But the memories continue to play,
Every night she prays,
Wishing them away,
But this girl lies with her laugh,
And hides behind a mask,
So that no-one can see her pain,
Her past, her denials,
This girl, she's dying inside,
Although no-one can see her pain,
She just continues to smile bright,
From day to everyday,
With beautiful lying eyes,
For everyone to see,
Everyone and anyone,
Everyone but me.

Copyright © Loretta Bailey

Details | Free verse | |

- Life Behind The Mirror -

Enchanting chambers made of glass 
Breaking reflections shatter falling into ruin
The history behind the tears and sorrow of a heart
Fragile echoes inside truth broken always sings 
If this be loves beauty like dropping crystals splash
Speaks a language of one thousand tongues when the sparks fly
The soul released from thought 
Faraway shadows cover a dream
When you have found what you're looking for
And always breathe in the beauty of nature
Silver buds glisten in morning dew 

Millions of years before you or me
Weeping willow hangs heavy over us 
These things and so many more
have made you and me understand
Blossoming sunshine shades golden 
Crowned kissed by love in the summer  rain 

What a beauty to wake up to birdsong
Carried on gentle winds when they sigh
Hearing screams from the raven far up in the mountains
Secrets of the water flowing whispers 
Our lives have a meaning here on this earth
Stars circle your space in another realm 
Thoughts and dreams put together as mosaic
A moon smiles as shadows dances to a joyous tune 
The smell of pine needles tickle in the nose
As a sun lights our footsteps with golden harmony 
Commitment strong and sense of purpose is the key to life

Written by L. Mcdaid & A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Anne Lise Andresen

Details | Free verse | |

The Ladybug's Whisper

And the ladybug placed a caressing whisper into dragonfly’s ear,
“I want to fly again. I crave to flap my tiny wings towards sunset’s crux. 
I want to breathe again. I want to be held like winds within canyon’s dialect.”

“But, first, I just need to scream.”


Let me be your breeze.



The power to swim!
The power to grin!
The desire to never, ever fall again!

Let us embrace conundrum’s waterfall to be its resolution!
Let us allow joy to be our bedtime lullabies!
Let us let love IN without full moon’s dependency!

Ride on this impeccable jet stream towards animosity’s downfall!

Look in the face of your beautiful enemies
Daring it to stand above pedestal’s fallacy
Let your radiance be their final intimacy!

Take incipient steps,
Upon mended asphalt wishes

Let them tremble at the sight of your beautifully embattled smile
Knowing they will never reciprocate

Where desert winds kneel in our reflections
For we are an oasis
Forged of blood diamonds; sacrificial memories

Breezes become gusts
Gusts become worshipped exhales

All that I am!
All that you are!
All that they hope to be!

Our Yin & Yang
Will release proverbial boomerangs
Breaking vicious circles upon this genesis

We sway above greener pastures.

Gusts become breezes.


Breaking enigmatic mirrors to see your true colors
With a scream to paint your new canvas


The time is now,
Let your two feet become one.

Rise, my ladybug!

Say goodbye
To detrimental trials

And caress newfound trust
Within a gentle

S				E
       M		 L

©Drake J. Eszes

Copyright © Drake Eszes

Details | Free verse | |

Playing Human

Introducing: Nate & Linda

The smile on my lips
is forced and coerced
I pretend to pay attention
give the best possible advice
everyone praises me
I'm so kind, polite and nice
It's all just automation
I rarely actually listen
certainly don't care
all I'm doing
is playing human
blending in
fitting in
I'm so perfectly hidden
you'll never even
see a curtain, 
   from where I stand
   Majoring in social events
   Put on a pedestal
   for computing with you
   I'm so perfectly hidden 
   smiling from time to time
   Labeling those 
   with all sincerity
   open soldiery  
   Passing along an appeal
   continuing to fit in
   blend in
   force program 
   Is it just me or
   am I the perfect human?

~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A

Details | Free verse | |

Exposure: Part II


"Yes, then I am filled with hate," she replied.

"You need to let it go. I know....I used to be filled with cold hatred.
Let it go. People can violate your body,
but it doesn't mean your soul is also violated -
not always.
Your body is only on loan anyway.
The soul is truly yours."

We moved even further away from the music and lights,
until we eventually found ourselves outside.
The sleet had stopped falling,
and amongst a crowd of pigeons sitting on a wire,
a Raven was perched on a buzzing halogen lamp.

Clouds broke apart, exposing a crescent moon hanging from a winking star
like a Christmas ornament, or an earring of night herself.
Not fixed, but dangling,
always moving and changing.


"Breathe in deeply. Focus in on the star,
pretend that you are casting your eyes up to the moon like a fishing line.
Begin reeling in your mind."

"Seems like a silly game to me."

"Please try it."

The Raven was watching us from its perch.
I breathed in and out deeply,
opening up my lungs and heart to the sky.

I turned to her and asked, 
"Do you feel hate coming from the Raven perched over there?"

"No, not that I can tell."

"Remember. You can still become someone's Queen.
People can violate your body, but your soul can stay intact.
Even if you doubt it right now."

She pulled out some napkins from her purse,
handed them to me, and asked, "Will you write it down for me?"

-And so I did-

January 1st, 2012

Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner

Details | Free verse | |

A Mountain's Challenge

majestic he seems, staring down at me with provocative, charcoal cavern eyes challenging me to forge upward massive boulders, slippery streams and fallen trees arduous obstacles he puts before me shall I take his dare perhaps ascending a few steps closer to cerulean heaven reach out to touch the kaleidoscope rainbow an arc above this complex journey’s struggle or is communing with the universal consciousness beyond reach will I step, slip, stumble and fall if I climb, seeking to prove myself finding visions of self awareness as he urges me on only to wonder why I see nothing but myself in a shroud of misty grey loneliness at the peak far easier it would be to lay my head upon the verdant meadow’s grassy pillow content to admire him from afar rather than challenge myself to win his approval gratify my ambitious nature what satisfaction will come if I remain complacent in my life’s lackluster station never growing, never knowing what might have been if I’d listened to his provocative voice
*Written July 30, 2014

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire

Details | Free verse | |

Oh Those Eyes

All those that I have loved before and the ones that will come after would never have those eyes Oh those eyes the moon of night those smiling eyes that do not shine yet glow with comfort in my life His unforgotten cheeks a musky scent of blown gardenias treaded softly in my sleep His Spring-kissed skin The fresh sweet taste of last aquatic dew which poured and reached my soul within Without demand I think of him And whoever said that men can never smell like flowers and whoever said that men can never taste like rain Those are the ones who never stretched their arms as far as to behold the one and whisper out his name.

Copyright © Charmaine Chircop

Details | Free verse | |

When life doesn't make sense part one

You look upon me with your judgemental eyes
Without taking a moment to try to understand
I know you won't miss me when I'm gone
The world will forget me without shedding a tear
I'm just a nothing, a nobody, I have no importance,
and I can't take living through this constant storm
The wind blows so powerfully, I wish it would blow me away
The rain constantly drowns me in everlasting sorrow
I can't take this pain any longer, I forgot how to smile
My eyes are so tired, they do not long to guide me 
I keep them closed, wishing I could sleep forever
My beloved, soon I will be gone, but I wish you well
I hope you love someone who you truly deserve,
I am not worthy of your sincere pure heart, I never was
I really don't want to hurt you, your the only one who understood,
I hope you can forgive me, but this time there will be no return
Even you can't heal my broken heart, my damaged mind,
but remember, I loved you until my last breath of existence
Life didn't make sense, it never will in haunting darkness
I'm no longer a burden and the demons have finally taken me

The silent one
1 September 2015

Copyright © Silent One

Details | Free verse | |

A secret sacred place

There is a place that we all go, a secret place that nobody knows.
A place where we lose ourselves just like the joy of a mother's lullaby.
A place where we seek solace, peace, serenity and tranquillity,
an escape from the darkness of reality, a place of beautiful dreams.
A sacred place where only angels reside and demons are banished away,
a place millions of miles away with no tears, just love and addictive smiles.
In a world where confusion reigns supreme, we all need a secret place,
a place to hide away from the trials and turbulence they refer to as life.
A private playground of childhood dreams, where your imagination runs wild,
a place that can be anything you want it to be and no one questions why?
Crimson skies, white fluffy clouds and endless rainbows where curiosity ends,
at night the dark skies are full of golden stars and a moon that tastes like cheese.

So, won't you come and join me and escape from the dullness of life,
its easy, just close your eyes and release all your inhibitions and feel alive..

The Silent One. 18 August 2015.

Copyright © Silent One

Details | Free verse | |

When life doesn't make sense part two

Oh my beloved,
You took your life so prematurely, so suddenly
You abandoned me, now I'm without a love to call my own
I thought I would fix you, to save you from your demons
I thought I was your guardian angel, but the demons proved too strong
You told me you were too broken, but I'm the broken one now
The ignorant ones will always judge and they say you were a coward,
but they don't understand, they haven't walked in your shoes
Now my eyes have become tired, all they feel is deception
In the valley of loss, my emotions drown deeply into darkness
My mind has become a grandeur of depressive thoughts
I feel so alone, without any shelter, without anywhere to call home
I wonder if you are in heaven smiling down at me, do you miss me?
Or do you burn in hell as the religious man would believe
You were my beloved, the missing piece to my heart,
tell me how can I now go on without you?
I contemplate joining you as suicidal thoughts demonise my mind,
but they would label me a coward too, if I let them seduce me
Angels flock and gather around, silently watching over me
I must be strong as they remind me that life still goes on.

Suicide is the wound that never heals and we may never understand why,
but we must be strong and live on as a reminder of their memory...

The Silent One
3 September 2015

Copyright © Silent One

Details | Free verse | |

The Words That flow Through My Pen

Sometimes, life has no reason unlike the seasons
It aimlessly drifts with the wind
We find ourselves in places of unfamiliar faces
Bathing in the shadows of sin
Our souls become lost up in the holocaust
That once was a beautiful life
Like a ship drifting upon the tide we bang and then we ride
The white horse straight into death
Into a giant black hole we dive in with our soul
Until we have nothing left
We then fall prey to our host who spreads butter on our toast
Our habits take over our lives
Everything we hold dear falls with one last tear
Into the darkness of night
Tired and defeated all our hope is depleted
Because we have nothing left to lose
Sometimes the storm passes as slow as molasses
Left frozen somewhere in the snow
Then our red eyes run dry with no tears left to cry
As we admit, I’d rather be dead
If you have a desire to live right, please take heed of my plight
And know that it’s never to late
Soon as you give it away find your knees and pray
You will find the comfort of home
And all of the disgrace will fall off of your face
Like the leaves that fall off the tree
And just like the bare tree soon you will see
Life is reborn in the spring
Like a warm days cool breeze, God fills us with his ease
And through him we find some peace
One day at time the trials all unwind
As the jigsaw falls into place
As everything gets better we become one with the weather
And the seasons suddenly become our friend
Our lives suddenly fly past, because we want to make them last
Like an ice-cream on a really hot day 
We are overcome with the obligation to tell of our salvation
Remembering all of those left behind
Some will find their way, others all we can say
Is Lord, we truly did our best
Dear Lord we write for your glory, telling our stories
That we would rather keep hid on the shelf
Our desire is to aspire so we can rise ever higher
With the words that flow though our pen
Giving of ourselves becomes our greatest wealth
As our souls become one with the Son
No high could be higher than faith and desire
Knowing we have been born again
One day we will stand before the gates that shall open to our fate
As heaven welcomes us in
We will look down on this earth, spirits of a new birth
Watching over the seeds that we spread
Knowing their lives were made better, because we were able to weather
The storm that raged through night 
Until the day I become shadows and dust I'll forever trust
The words that flow through my pen

Copyright © Michael Jordan

Details | Free verse | |

The Whispers of a Troubled Spirit

I didn't read the signs,
and you were raised not to complain,
holding it all inside, behind an ever-present smile.

Too scared to ask for advice,
too proud to ask for help,
you tried fixing the problem on your own,
until the problem appeared too volatile.

silly boy

I was here the entire time,
as I am still here even now,
and I can feel your shadow
moving over me,
whispering up my spine.
I can feel you wishing for the simple things,
wishing only to wake up in your bed again,
just wishing to re-start that day once more -
to feel the pain,
to feel the need
of trying things a bit differently.

If only I had been able to decode 
the complex puzzle of your mask,
I could have offered more help.
Did I not try hard enough?
There is a shadow in my heart,
that believes you would have drowned
in your selfishness,
regardless of what any of us had done or said.
Either way, you were already marching toward 
the dreaded plains of the regretfully dead.

(there are times when it is truly best to stop asking why.
On certain winter nights,
I open a window to softly falling snow -
not a single breath of chaos blows.
The night is so calm, I can hear snowflakes
touch each other on the windowsill.
I turn on a light behind me,
and as the light pours out into the night,
thousands of crystals glitter like a city of angels.
I don't have any tears left to shed for you,
they are all sitting frozen in the blanket of sparkling snow.
It is at moments such as this,
when I miss you the most)

Yet, the offer of a helping hand is still open,
a helping hand for a troubled spirit.
Reality is constantly altering,
changed in so many ways,
but I am still here,
here as I ever was.
So whenever you feel the need,
whisper up my spine,
dial up the ancient area code,
and together we can dine.

Possibly, just possibly,
we can figure out a way 
to push you through the needle's eye,
and both of us can stop asking why.

February 8th, 2012

Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner

Details | Free verse | |


He reads voraciously

to his young children,
beguiled, somewhat bewildered 
by sweet progeny's relentless 
leaching of his words, his hungry baby 
birds, how their peeps teach.

He reads sporadically
to his father, articles from the paper, 
headlines and bylines for his dad 
has cataracts, now, and velum 
hands shake newsprint, make a rattling 
sound, too like the quiver of cloistered 
skeletons,  all those remains, 
                          all those remains.
There is wisdom in comics, he's found, 
bucolic rings so like old church bells,
tutoring fields through fog.

He still tries to read

his wife,
shared history in eyes,
the geography of long sighs, that topography 
of belly,  yes, yes, a theology 
that spills from parted lips;
bless each rumpled sheet, that chemistry 
which repeats poetry, spoken 
                         in a dialect, so rare. 

He remembers reading an encyclopedia 

in the face of a beggar, once, 
prophetical sparks from high brows — 
crossed currents;  a lifetime recorded, 
an unbound edition, A through Z
but when he carefully turned to C,
he'd found a full entry 
on compassion and charity.

Soon, he'll no longer read music notes

through a soft blur, playing guitar 
for one a thousand times more educated 
then he, this twelve year old girl, 
this preteen, dying, her heart 
an open lecture hall, her smile, 
pure academia. May she ever be 
opus angelorum, that reaches, 
will ever reach, far past 
                        mere hospice walls.

Copyright © Cyndi MacMillan

Details | Free verse | |

Like a Rock

I carry my mother 
like a rock in my pocket 

that I just can’t seem to throw away 

It serves me 
no purpose, 
it just weighs me down 

When I first found it, 
when I first picked it up 
and started carrying it with me, 

I thought it so beautiful – 
I could look at it for hours 

But, like my mother, 
it never looked back at me, 
never grew warm under my loving gaze 

For the longest, I was blind to that, 
Blind to anything but the beauty, 
blind to the cold, hard, 
beyond-remote nature of the rock,
of my mother,
my stone


I carry my mother,
a thought without weight

And she’s heavier

and she’s colder

than all the stones
there are

By the time I recognized her 
immutable, emotional unavailability, 
I had run out of joy,
felt depleted of hope –

But I could not,
for the life of me,
stop seeking a beauty, a warmth,
inside her heart

Could not stop
that one day this stone,
my mother,
deep inside my pocket,

Might just become
its own opposite –

Change from hard to fluid,
from cold to warm

But my rock, my hard burden,
will only turn to water

When my mother
stops being
a stone

Copyright © Rev. Rebecca Guile Hudson

Details | Free verse | |

A Cinderella Story

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Simon, I have something to say unto you. There was a certain creditor

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Whom had two debtors. One owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

And when they had nothing with which to pay he freely forgave them both.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tell Me, therefore, which of them shall love him more?”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Simon answered and said, “I suppose the one whom he forgave more.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He said to him, “You have rightly judged.” He then turned to the woman and  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I entered your house, you gave Me

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

No water for My feet, but she has washed my feet with her tears and wiped them

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

With the hair of her head. You gave me no kiss, but this precious woman

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Has not ceased to kiss My feet since I came in. You did not anoint My head 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

With oil, but this priceless woman has anointed my feet with fragrant oil.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Therefore I say unto you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven, for 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

She loved much. But to whom little is forgiven, the same loves little.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

And He said to her, “Your sins are forgiven...Your faith has saved you. 

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Go in peace.” ~ “A Cinderella Story” ~

Copyright © sarah seraphin

Details | Free verse | |


How do I tell you that you’re beautiful?

How can I be different?

How can I express my attraction?

When columns upon
Of testosterone filled wolves
Dressed in rented Italian suits
And discolored, mesh sneakers
Speak similar flirtatious dialect

Will this baby scented Sunflower do the trick?

I picked it from my walled Garden of Eden.

I spent 4 years mending these butterfly coated petals,
Solely for this moment

How can I express my need for your smile?

When tattered paper donations have been sent
To elicit short-term, newlywed goose bumps upon your flesh


May I have this dance? 

You’ve never heard this sensual ballad.

But, it’s an element of my Spoken Word
Waiting for your translation

I await your palms,
Because this is not a Man’s world

This can be ours.

But, will you leap off from trampoline’s corazon? 

My syllables are in your hands.

My book is within your misunderstood palm paths.

If you’re going to read between my lines,
Do not be illiterate to my heartbeats.

Your move…

©Drake J. Eszes

Copyright © Drake Eszes

Details | Free verse | |

Forty Today

Visited you today
as the sun set in the horizon…

the orange tinged carnations 
were a perfect complement 
for the skies
and for you… 
orange and blue
always remind me of you

the winds softly blew
and I just sat there
staring at the grass,
well more at your name really…

hardly believing
what I am looking at, 
that it’s been seven years

of missing you,
of just putting that reality
at the back of my mind…

But there are days,
such as today
which make me 
confront that reality—

I see your smile,
remember your laughter
celebrate your spirit
and your love

Tears, I tell you I have
the most stubborn tears
maybe because they 
make it so real for me?

I look around me
and look for that sign

Nope, not there…

I say a prayer
and speak to you
thankful for the life shared

I kiss the date that you were born

and walk away

my reflection on the car window

One last look around,

and then I see it…

a cat, as we drive away…

Skies now streaked purple and pink

**My brother would have been 40 today, May 6…

Copyright © binibining P.iNk