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Introspection Beauty Poems | Introspection Poems About Beauty

These Introspection Beauty poems are examples of Introspection poems about Beauty. These are the best examples of Introspection Beauty poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Light Poetry | |

The Sands of Love

Two statues of stone
On pedestals in the park
One male
One female
White objects of a perfections beauty
Yet they stood erect and alone
When the rain fell
This was their tears
The stared at each other with longing
The trees grew tall
Season by season the flowers bloomed
Two statues standing erect in the prison of life's hold

A poet walked in the park
Glancing at lovers, kisses at dusk
He stared at the statues above his head
He knew, with dread, the loneliness of stone maidens
He waited for the park to become enclosed in the twilight
With toil and sweat he did succeed on his lark
Pushing the statues close rather than apart
As one statue danced and the other one sang
They kissed the sweetness of night and felt the tears of joy
All because a poet
Wished them a lovers embrace
He knew them like they were his children
For here he was as well
A statue
In love

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Broken Heart, For Sale

I have always been alone
I have always been the lonely one
In the corner, quiet and silent
Inside of dreams to come

So with determination
I build and build and build
Possessions compounding
Wealth is the only scorecard I know

Now, it’s amassed, and I have it all
So with pride and confidence
I do what anyone should
I must purchase a possession of my desire

I read in the paper of a sale very fine
A Garage sale of many old antiques divine
Within it all is treasure so very deep
A broken heart of golden hopes

I am not sure how one goes about
Such a purchase, of infinite value
I am succumbed with depression and sadness
For all my wealth

I have not the currency to buy this heart
So I burned my money that very night
I learned, there is another currency of delight
I wrote words and music and poetic verse

My Snow White she refuses to awake
Even my heart at the bone it shakes
Vaso the empty vessel of life
Learned there is no currencies at all

To acquire a broken heart

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

Details | Bio | |

Self

I am a lady
In a white dress
My desire only to be softly caressed
So I take my paint brush, and delinquently paint
My face that pleads let love become quaint
I confess  to my brushes
Let a man stroke me 
With eloquence and grace
As he gazes into the love on my face
La fenêtre you see that I paint so clear
You have to climb in through it
To hold me so dear
Can you not see into my soft sad lonely eyes?
I desire myself
Wrapped inside of you
On canvas
I shall paint forever
Myself
That never existed

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015

Details | Verse | |

This is me

You wake up in the morning to look in the mirror,
To say "This is me".
To Compare yourself to what you think you should be.
"I'm fat.",
"I'm ugly.",
"How can this be?",
"Why did God do this to me?",
You put on some make-up or some acne-cream,
To cover the blemishes that others can see.
But it doesn't mater what others see,
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,
And the beholder is me.
So stop annotating,
And start complimenting,
Not on what should be,
But on what is!

You were created in God's image,
Oh.
How.
Powerful.
To see who you really are,
Oh.
How.
Magical.

In that mirror is not,
"I'm fat.",
"I'm ugly.",
But a scientific creation from stardust,
Something that's way beyond us.
And what's inside is something so unique,
So special,
Because no one else has it,
It's.
Like.
Magic.

It's you!

You are the most amazing thing to walk on this Earth.
With the ability to wake up and show your worth.
So why wake up and talk negative?
When you could wake up and smile.
Why not be happy for a while?
Why try to please everyone else,
When all you have to do is be yourself?

People say "What matters is on the inside.",
And you say "But look at my outside.".
And I say there is no good side,
You as a whole is the creation,
There is no separation.
Each person with 46 chromosomes working in perfect symphony,
Destroying themselves with negativity.
Just Stop!

You are beautiful because you are rare,
Because no one else can compare.
Your face,
Your nose,
Your eyes,
With your sense of humor to comprise,
Someone no one else can match.
Try to make it in a lab...
Try throw it down the hatch.
You compare yourself to everyone else,
When you are one of a kind.
Why can't you get that in your mind?
Diamonds aren't perfect so why should you be?
Beauty is not symmetry.
Look in the mirror and what do you see?
The beauty that you are...
This is me...

Copyright © David Neuman | Year Posted 2014

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 | Ode | |

Optimistic Orange

It is the fragrant peel of Florida's fruit that comes in convenient slices.
The savory citrus that packs a punch - to my tongue it simply entices.
It is the sprightly stripe of a clown fish that says, "Look at me," unabashedly (no joke)
To read between the lines it has taught me, and in its splendor I am soaked.
It is the warmth inside a fire though his sister crimson gets all the credit.
It could be the light of your world if your vivacious heart would only let it
envelop you with its curious tone: the love of a rose - the brightness of the sun.
And though we might only think of traffic cones,
and hazard signs - for me - it is the lightness of a pun:
Orange you gonna ask me a question?
About how its wavering pathways on tropical seas
can bring the heaviest heart to ascension?
Or how its marriage of sweet strawberry and sour lemon
has brought to mind our engaging entanglement?
It isn't like the blue that's over our heads,
nor is it like the green that's beneath our feet.
Rather it is the hidden spark inside our hearts:
it isn't showy - but its beauty is discrete. Something to soothe
any gloomy day with gentle subtlety. To tell you the truth
orange is nothing dramatic
(perhaps that's why I like it)



Written March 4th, 2016
For the United Orange Contest hosted by Silent One

Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme | |

The Hypocritical Christian

I am the hypocritical Christian.
I say I follow Christ,
But I'm still consumed by my demons.
I go to church on Sunday,
But I refuse to invite someone back.
I want to serve on mission,
But I'm too afraid to act.
They think I read The Bible,
But I just fall asleep in it.
They think I'm positivity and smiles,
But underneath I'm death and addictions.
They think I'm clean and pure,
But I'm broken and mistaken.
I say I'm not worthy of His love,
But Jesus will never let me be forsaken.
I pray long prayers,
But inside they're empty repetition.
It might look as if my faith is strong,
But my core is too easily shaken.
I say the things I'm supposed to say,
But don't follow His actions or obey.
I speak the truth the church wants to hear,
But deep inside on matters I don't know what to believe.
I walk in shame as if I'm not good enough
To be loved by God and saved through Christ,
But there is nothing I could ever do to earn His peace;
It's a free gift.
I accept;
Now forgiven, changed, and released.
Thank You God,
Thank You Jesus,
Thank You Holy Spirit!
In Jesus' Holy Name,
We pray,
Amen!

Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ekphrasis | |

The Camp of the Dead Children

Emily of three years
Leukemia eating her soul
Her bald head, made her smile wider
Please mummy do not cry
I will hug you even after I die

Tommy of five years
Bone cancer eating his limbs
Unable to walk, this beautiful mind
Absorbed any book like it was fine wine
He kissed his Daddy, and said all will be fine

Lena a sweet young lady of seven
Preparing her bed, for her voyage to heaven
Her little liver refused to function
Her spirit however could not be shrunken
She smiled beyond her years, I love you mummy daddy

Jacob of six, suffered from irony
Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease was to be his downfall
His hockey days were all but over
His favorite stick he gave to little brother
He said I love you, so don’t you too suffer

Raquel was all of four and one half years old
Menkes Disease was very soon to take hold
Her sad blue eyes expressed her fate
She knew the lord was waiting, staying up late
Her tears were for all those she was leaving behind

Jimmy was a young lad of only eight
With burns all over his body, death his only fate
His family hovered over his last moments here
As a plentitude of love gazed up to mum
His life fluttered away, he knew he was done

Emily, Tommy, Lena, Jacob, Raquel and Jimmy
All suffered and taken before their time
All of them far wiser than their childhood years
All of them sad for all their families tears
The heavens of the universe, seem so fickle and unkind


Why, why why, as my heart comprehends not at all this time

The camp of dead children, killed me as well

Yet they were survivors and filled with eternal love

Why why why, as I can only cry


Quantum entanglement
Inside the human conscientiousness
Schroeder’s cat, has been freed at last
Multi universe, exposing heads and tails


It’s the last ecstatic day of the Olympics
The spectators are in awe
Anticipation is hanging in the air
As the best, most fit, most disciplined
Of young men and woman are set to compete....
The finest of human specimens in both body and mind

The starter raises his pistol
The Big Bang
The race of life is on

The families of the triumphant winners jump for joy
Mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters
Clapping and cheering, years of dedication
Are seen on the smiles of these young ones

On to the podium does the team step
They stare out proud and filled with joy
Gold medals placed over their shoulders one by one
Emily, Tommy, Lena, Jacob, Raquel and Jimmy
They have won!

Somehow, deep within, they know, they have won

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

My Last Wish

If only I can ask the world
To gather all the love
Each person has.

If only I can feel the love
Free of inhibitions in some extent 
And share it with everyone.

If only I can be 
With the love of yours
So that I can have my last wish.

If you permits me to  live and die 
Unconditionally with and without you
Oneness reflected indeed.






Copyright © marvin celestial | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

The Butterfly Dance

Dance
Between the granite stones
Of the dead
Long ago last breaths do part
Memories seeping in dirt
Black birds and magpies
Lace and knots
Lingering thoughts
Swaying too and fro
Insane

Dancing 
On top of the dead
Lover is all but gone
Butterflies shown
That life flies on
As shadows rest
Upon ones breast

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme | |

Emilee

Leave the broken in the past, Renew the beauty with sun-light; Nothing's ever meant to last So won't you make this moment bright? Dwelling on who causes pain, And feeling guilty now and then Will only pro-long pouring rain, And damage who you are again. Whether it be self acceptance, Pessimistic points of view, Even social-tied reluctance Or seeing beauty through and through, See yourself for who you are, And love yourself for only that Before contentment strays too far And you can never bring it back.

Copyright © Dana Smith | Year Posted 2012

Details | Quatrain | |

Oh Gentle Rain

Oh gentle rain
come to me now
please wash this pain from me
in lifes unkindness I'm immersed
and need to be set free

Oh gentle breeze
please breathe new life
into this dying soul
from my travels I am weary
refresh and make me whole

Oh flowers sweet
let me hide
among your beauty fair
touch me with your loveliness
and leave your beauty there

Oh come to me
in kindness please
with your gentle ways
the world it has inflicted me
and darkened all my days

Oh come to me
and touch my heart
please change this dark to light
take away the ugliness
that turned my day to night

Copyright © Robin L. Gass | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse | |

Where my Beauty lies

My beauty lies, in the warmth of my care.
It’s in the way I shield your secrets, those private things that we share.

My beauty lies in the grace of my stride
It’s the seductive swaying, a hypnotic glide

My beauty lies in the confidence of my walk
It’s in the tone of my voice, the way that I talk.

My beauty lies on softness of my lips
It’s in the charm of my smile; it’s in the curve of my hips

My beauty lies here in the space between my thighs
It’s in those words that I speak that can make your nature rise.

My beauty lies, in places beyond my flesh
It’s the way my soul opens up and offers you rest. 

My beauty lies in the depths of my eyes.
It’s the way they lead you to my heart and welcome you inside.

Copyright © ChiquitaChiamaka Baity | Year Posted 2011

Details | Lyric | |

SOS

SOS


Sixty seems so old
Oland was a time long ago
Sweden still sleeps in my dreams

So young so sweet
Old dreams run in retreat
Songs like lovers never last

Vanished love, island breezes
Vanquished lovers, sins drown, nothing pleases

Gone is the desire
Gardens die inside of Swedish winds
Gentle thoughts tossed into trysts seas

Tales of lore from distance shore
Another chance, the dice never win
Camisoles and lingerie
Oh my love, you captivated me
Maidens I would always toss to the sea

Frost could not kill the call of drummers doom

Another song, another story of a lovers end
Beware the maiden, ships sailors will tell 
Breasts heave in sadness of autumn leaves
Allay my fears with illusions trumpets

Death dances, life runs to another day
Quebec was the shores of Swedish fantasies

Winter winds brought things to an end
Taking love could not prosper, when love won’t bend
Inside the pain, doomed us the broken hearted
Another day, another dream


Knowing love was so departed
	Memories wrapped and folded in the drawer
Knowing death was welcome and so regarded
	Youth no longer dances on this shore


Solitude was the only game in town
Obituary would be my fame thus drowned
Smiles forgotten, my love for her never waned



Notes: Due to some confusion, I changed the last verse and fixed a few things!
The suicide was mine, but only poetically! :)

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative | |

Nayda

Beyond the skills of escorts
and the appeal of other playthings,
smolders the need of the soul
infused to best every man.
Twelve years have taken
the scars out of the memories,
from the last time I was
up and through
just to come down and out
to find every fairy tale
extends it’s hand
to some tragedy.
The odds don’t warrant
the time of practical effort.
Too keen to the liabilities,
always calculating ends.
It is not the demands of over
or having to start something new
rather, better to remain alone
than to be let down again.
But now I see you,
and it makes me pause
so still, with the whisper --
Are you sure?
	Falls into a deafening singularity 
forbidding even a scream, it’s escape.
I sit and can only see
the touch of Heaven
reaching across the Caribbean
to color your face.
As your smile holds the songs
of every dawn’s temptress,
under the soft disposition
of your eyes 
rests a divine spirit’s symmetry, 
smoothing features
while lensing each strand
the perfect frame.
That once moved a favored King
to murder a man, only to bring
the sword into his own house.
Enabled an army to take 
a strong city with just one horse.
And enslaved the envy of Venus
to sharpen leaden arrows,
but fury slipped her hands
and bled her wrists out.
Blood clotted on the cold muck
of her grave, a suffocating cocoon.
Immersed the viewer becomes, 
and timeless the window
of the heart that is God’s craft,
denying the deceiver’s forgery
of any singed carnality.
As if proximity has been given 
within the mist of your perfume,
in just this one picture
of your face.

Copyright © rob carmack | Year Posted 2016

Details | Haiku | |

Now Voyager

fragile is the dream...
sailing over broken glass
without a compass


_____________________________
Posted My First Poem 5/2008
Image # 8
For Skat's Contest: "Glass Haiku"

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2016

Details | Light Poetry | |

Love Story

I once loved
I once cried
I once died

Love was like the wind
My heart a leaf on a tree
Blown away

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet | |

The Reflection

I stare in the mirror, my tears fall in vain
Can’t see my reflection through the veil of this pain.

Who is this person I struggle to see?
I don’t want to judge her but it’s surely not me.

This stranger I cast looks so tired and weak,
I wish I could help her but I’m frightened to speak.

Cause it’s dark and lonely in this shell where I’m bound
Where once there was laughter, is now void of sound.

and the beauty I knew in just yesterday’s time,
seems gone in an an instant with life’s rythym and rhyme…..

Then GOD he spoke child…What do you mean?
You’re more beautiful than anything that I’ve ever seen!

The reflection you cast it don’t matter to me,
What matters is that you can see what I see.

That your spirit is filled with a breath that is true.
And a beauty so deep that this world can’t undo.

I know that your journey seems to heavy to bear.
But I’ve given you family that love and who care.

So hold on tight through the dips and the turns,
For the ones who believe are the precious who learns.

And wether your journey is to stay here or go,
Please know I love you so much more than you know.

I wish I could tell you the beauty that awaits…
But you will know only, when you see heavens gates.

Copyright © Bernard Colasurdo | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

Antiques at the Sawmill

Mom has always loved antiques
I have never asked her why
Perhaps it's the connection to the past
Maybe the craftsmanship
The smell of ancient wood
The curves
The fact that they were built to last

She turned a passion into a business
A few small pieces in her living room
A sign on a door
Interesting how businesses are born
Bob there by her side
Together building on her dream

There once was an old sawmill
Where men had worked with their hands
Hard work had its demands
Each one did what he could
Their strength remains
Locked within the wood
Those same hands had built mom's home
Over one hundred years ago
Time dripped on it didn't slow
Mom's home became the perfect place
To celebrate the past
Her home and business
Built from things that were made to last

The business grew
Taking over the home
Visits from patrons
Calls on the phone
Busy all the time 
No space for them to be alone
It became time 
For them to expand
They looked to the future
The life they planned
Built on their historic land 

A new addition built from old wood
Soaring ceiling
Above them stood
I remember the beams 
Spectacular
From an old barn hewn from fir
Lifted on Bob's wide strong back
Formerly they had been just a stack
A one of a kind home
Filled with love
With bedrooms and landing up above
The kitchen was the centre piece
A place to gather
Filled with love and peace

Love of the past
Hope for the future
Has alway been a part of her
Together melded and celebrated
As a result I appreciate
The solid
The values
The ingenuity
Forever engrained in my blood
My respect for the old
My admiration  of antiques

Remnants of the business still remain
The building sold
Mom loves going to auctions
She still sells at local Antique Markets
Sadly Bob has passed on
Thankfully mom has moved on from her sad
She too is made of stronger stuff
Not unlike
Her beloved
Antiques

An old poem and this one is about old things.
For Broken Wings' contest. Written April 13 2013

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014

Details | Quatrain | |

Only Man

Only Man finds beauty in a star, 
or gleans delight from a bird in flight.
And He’s the only being thus far,
that can discriminate wrong from right.

Only Man can accommodate hate,
or feel the pain of love kept apart.
And alter the course of His own fate,
preventing problems before they start.

Only Man can decide to be kind,
or separate His wants from His needs.
And ease the burdens of soul and mind,
shaping His destiny by His deeds.

Only Man can realize His dreams,
or understand that He'll one day die.
And question what reality means,
distinguishing the truth from a lie.

Only Man believes He has a soul,
or that love exists within His heart.
And defining life, He takes control,
expressing hope in His works of art.

Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

The Beauty In Futility

Futility
my heart breathes its last breath
Embraces its own death
Ready to be reborn 
and made anew

Can’t live a lie
Refuse to “do”
and I’ll DIE....
Focus now on why I’ll live 
And never touch the sky. 

I have to forget you
I have to reject you 
But I will never love anyone 
like I loved you.....

I heard you whisper 
and you never knew it
I wiped the tears from your eyes 
But you couldn’t feel it

You’re lost and you’ll never find you
And neither will I 
And I’m so sorry--
but I’m NOT. 

I'll attempt to reset
Try to forget
But you know, I never will. 

Be my dirty little secret 
My very worst-kept secret 
Sweet, smooth, beautiful poison 
My infernal and endless attraction 
towards complete and utter self-destruction 

I fell in love with the devil
And it will take one heck of an angel
To save me from the likes of you....

My addiction 
my confusion
my nightmare
my dream never to come true

Oh, I’ll never forget the times
we never shared
I’ll never forget 
how you were never there

Always me, the stars, and tears
And I ask you,
what kind of life is THAT?

I have to face the facts 
I don’t know what happens now
but it happens without you. 

The stains will always be there
the scars will never fade
But the memory of you----
it HAS to. 

I could carry the torch forever
But it would only consume me
I can’t cry another tear for you
Or I’ll dry up completely

It doesn’t affect you
and you never deserved me

You’ll go on with your life, too
All, all alone
Because you’ll only ever be in love
with you. 

Copyright © SLS It Is Rife With Ambiguity | Year Posted 2011

Details | Quatrain | |

Epilogue of Love

To have lived not being loved at all -

hunchbacked like a question mark-

your soul continuously on parole

imagine beauty in the dark


Perhaps we passed each other in the speed

of different trains colliding with the time

in one - abandoned newborn girl in need

the other - useless vagabond and wine.


Was it your Soul who shook the Jacaranda tree

and made it burst and rain with purple fairies?

Or just a whispered cry within the depth of me -

too much horizon and no space for prairies...


Imagine beauty in the dark

When wings demolish walls of sorrow

I'll die again an injured lark

Reborn in Phoenix bird tomorrow.

www.scripca.com

Copyright © iolanda Scripca | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

Truth, Tears and Temptation

Venus’s light grew ever brighter as discovery marked its territory
On new faces—old ones brought to the light of sudden love-falls
I grew wary of the feelings surpassing my entire being
Wavelengths of caution holding their hands up in dominance
“Do not pass as to succumb to the charm of your desires,
Yet pause in the epiphanies that blind you”

This voice had the authority over the stars and planets,
Over the birds and beasts, and could be heard by all rebellious men
Its anger was subtly piercing, with no trace of mortal malice
Erupting for the greater good of my confused soul,
Trapped in the sentiments that have swayed me into some false conviction

“Stay here and forget the voice,” says another oh so softly,
“Take wing into heavens none have traveled before
Do not pause at the discretion of your reasoning—
Instead ride upon the back of revolution’s stride
Taste the inner cravings that have molded you together
Crunch on the sustenance of those around you
Eat it all—for the morsels are both tasty and satisfying
Be fattened in the comfort that everyone around you…FALLS”…

And then my guard was cut clean off…
By the most gorgeous face I have ever set eyes upon
I had seen this face, many a time…
Yet now it pierced me sharper than ever before
I longed to taste the lips that spoke to me
I faltered in the sound of the laughter escaping the mouth
The heart of this being was so fixated in its own reality
And the despair of my desire grew uncomfortably under boulders of Never-
Will-I-Attain

Oh voice, loud as thunderous fire…
Why can I not desire what I will never have? 
Will I crumble to dust by this new feeling,
Or shall I forget it all and assemble my thoughts upon new and greater 
heights? 

“Oh beautiful soul, take a look at your heart of gold,
Remember your time is ever so short—and though all fall short,
These desires inside you will stretch your time into success
All bottled up in alerted misery,
Why burden yourself in cold sobriety?
Embark upon the passions like the waves of the sea—
Give that heart that you so long for what it deserves…
Give it the truth—your truth
And if you fall, you fall…”

I silenced the thought with terrible thrashing tears
Wanting to listen, yet too stiff to absorb it all
I begged the voice to strengthen me,
And all I could hear was the assurance of my desires

Yet the echo of the Almighty was clearer than the sorrows I possess even 
now:

“Do not pass as to succumb to the charm of your desires,
Yet pause in the epiphanies that blind you”

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Flawed Vision

You say, my hair is too kinky and my nose is too broad
But I see perfection it’s your vision that’s flawed

Complexion of mahogany , defined too dark by some
But I see pure radiance, kissed by the sun

You say my lips are too full and my hips are too wide
But you can’t see my true beauty until you open your eyes

You say that my flaws depict my inferiority
But rest assured that your chaotic view do not define me

You say that I’m conceited, but I say you lied
It’s just the grace of my walk and the elegance of my stride

You say that I’m egotistical and full of arrogance
What you really see is self-assurance, grace, and confidence

You say I’m attention seeking, too bold, and too proud
But I say uniqueness always stands out in a crowd

You say that I’m vain and I think I’m God’s gift to this earth
But I know my true value 
I fully understand my worth. 


If Helen of Troy possessed the beauty that launch a thousand ships across treacherous seas.

Then I possess the magnificence that brings all men to their knees.



Chiquita Baity


Shadows and Lines revised

Copyright © ChiquitaChiamaka Baity | Year Posted 2011

Details | Rhyme | |

Humanity wears a face

Do my people have a heart to go with the human race,
or is it that they just can't see the beauty in a face?
The colors seem to stand beyond, the fact that we're the same,
uncamoflaged in the war of humanity, supremacy you try to claim.
Never shall we be equal, for we are above what you teach,
you're too scared to see the truth in the words my people preach.
The only one's of equality are the one's that see it true,
the world that you're destroying, because you're not giving the respect that's due!


written towards prejudicial mentality, people detroying the world/mother nature/simplistic minds who cannot conceive the notion that all races are beautiful and we are one race combined...the human race. The world is filled with color and beauty in everything and everyone...

Copyright © amy epiphany tunks | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

The Foothills of the Himalayas

The swarthy young men sit, planted under the overhang
like the pansies and geraniums surrounding them in boxes
as the rain pelts the terra-cotta terrace; we beneath the awning.
The mountain air sharpens with the acrid taste of lightening.

Having bid farewell to the arched shard of rainbow across the valley;
we shiver watching the celestial fireworks bombardment of Katmandu.
The lightening stokes the day’s heat: earth, water, metal, fire, air,
curdel the early evening sky like the yogurt we ate for lunch.

A home-made rice wine pours over our tongues from an innocent
looking water bottle. Our eyes turn garnet with the harshness of it. 
The bottle with its tattered label sits upon the arm of a white chair.
The wine within tastes faintly of the gasoline. Yet, we reveled in it,

and the freedom wine lends us from the deep-seeded societal mores, 
of impending marriages, political, religious and of the heart. How, one woman 
seldom fits all three requirements. The wine flowed with the discussion.

Overhead, a bridal veil of stars drapes the horizon. Single as we three
are, we retire to discuss the finer points within the one bedroom
which was all that was available in the mountain inn.

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |

My Words Do Not Match Yours

Insignificant, My proses are nothing without you- but scribbles, through and through I dream a dark weary blur of letters, a phrases, going by in a flur- Even that; my thoughts seeming simple even then it lacks luster given by you- the additions you contribute more than do alone they gleam platinum though, with mine maybe less than gold I...no matter- no treasures to hold! Tales to be told It is not me they care to read -wish to know But the enchantress of the words and chimes and grinding whispering rhymes of the tales of darkened woe Though you must scribble onwards sweet hurt, For fragments of your heart I shall fasten tight Against my loving words, My tempestuous, valiant might Shall shake your fear into fight! Tear these thoughts and lies of darkness, The very sinews and cartilages masking their place within you, Away from your eyes, and see— What horrors lie wait in the heart that fails To Be Alas though it is; That my words shall only crackle or fizz No tear shall be shed, no heart yearning dead at the intake of my write And thus I must admit I am contrite at how I envy your wondrous sight- A gift of perfection, given to you, immaculate graces all you do Unearthly feeling trembling might as praise of prose shines bright For YOU- my guardian, my mentor, my idol- I dream a selfish dream- that I could be you for a day And know what it's like to hear the people say; "You, you are beautiful and amazing. Talented and skillful..." Maybe I shall pray, Though I never believed in much Maybe I could such... perhaps I could for a day... kneel down to pray; just to hear then say "you are beautiful..." Oh, divine, bleeding star, Eyes of eager want and disdain… What words blessed be may ail your pain? I am but mortal meeting flaw again and again… My master, my ruler, my liege I bow, I grovel, I beg Teach me your magic The arts of the words so charismatic Gleaming, glistening, glinting, like gold and silver charms- An aura of pure creation You the Queen of tales of sorrows, and dreams, And happy things I wish, I wish - I wish and wish and wish some more To learn your secret, learn your trade To inspire greats- with a single sentence Stand as my equal, my friend, And do not beg for gifts you hold, Open them upon us all For the answers have always been in your eyes, Where the deepest darkest sorrow lies, In the crevices of your brazen soul light Who has long been shoved and hidden in your bitter, broken plight Stand by my side, and give majesty to your muse Rest her heart gently on what you feel most of, What you see, and what you dream Do not grovel to the floor, Do not wrestle for the glory of more You are perfection when you allow your light out Soft and genuine, the fire will seek you now Divine, bleeding star We are mortals with immortality afar Destined to touch inspirations never blemished, Never pained And never strained Without so much a guiding visage I fear, I shall go out in a blink but maybe… just maybe I will write, something... worth sharing a tale- worth telling
This is a collaboration I wrote with Rebecca Larkin, A great friend and an awesome Poetess Written in January

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

The Beauty Of Austria Shattered

I remember the dream of Austria
As the war for me was finally closing 
High in my turret upon the Sherman
I entered this mountain paradise at last
Until I reached the earthly gates of hell

Within those eyes I found despair
That spark of life long dead
Their hearts filled of solitudes poison
Muted voices no longer calling out
Thousands of souls starving for hope
Existing amongst corpses who had lost it
Now just shadows of the once proud
Crushed by tyranny simply because they “were”

Empty men drifting about lost in a miring haze
Praying for the peace only death grants
So very few seemed to hold onto humanity
They had nothing to fear because all was lost
As I stood at the hells gates called Mauthausen

In that moment I found the truest of evils
Under the threshold of Hades a toxoid of hatred
Not truly comprehending what my eyes spoke
Numbed in fears I never knew subsisted within me
Standing frozen I wanted nothing more than to run
As the shell of that crying man fell in my arms
I am haunted by his words…”godheid bedanken”
My faith transfused giving him a moments hope

Within those high peaks of the songs of paradise
I lost my soul at the gates of a concentration camp
Every night since I hear his voice thanking God
He called us the wrath and thunder of reckoning
But…I was just a boy with rifle searching for a respite

Copyright © Charles Fuller | Year Posted 2007

Details | Quatrain | |

The Dandelion

The dandelion sat along on the hill 
watching the rose's play.
He asked to join the fun and games;
is it all right if I stay?
The rose's said, you can not play,
for you are not one of us.
Go back to your hill to your grassy clump,
and don't you make a fuss.
For we are tall with our beautiful stems
and nicely shaped leaves.
Our petals are grand,
the best in the land, 
so stay away you weed.
A beautiful flower, tall and grand,
you are, the dandelion sighed.
Your petals are grand, the best in the land,
but i'd rather be pretty inside.
For the rose's and their beauty so grand, 
will fade and wither with time,
but the dandelion's beauty within,
is one thing that will never die. 
:0)

Copyright © Ricci Hardt | Year Posted 2010

Details | Sonnet | |

Spring And Sunlight Wrap This Heavenly View

Spring And Sunlight Wrap This Heavenly View

Slowly I climb that very steep and rocky hill,
seeking the beautiful summit so far above.
As a breeze sends me that cool pleasant chill,
far away echoes, sweet calls of morning dove.

Summit reached, burden was greatly reduced,
as I saw great flowery meadows unfurled.
This the beauty God magnificently produced,
one of his many fine gifts to this world.

Spring and sunlight wrap this Heavenly view,
in a sheen invading my searching soul.
Each visit, I find feelings serene and new
relieving me of dark world's heavy toll.

Thus I battle with dark and unknown gloom.
By entering Nature's gifted wilderness room.

Robert J. Lindley, 09-24-2015

Note: I just felt the need to write a sonnet this morn.
Thus from my memory this new poem was born from
a place that I once visited quite often.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015