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Life Journey Poems | Life Poems About Journey

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

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Details | Dramatic Verse | |

SNOW GLOBE

Welcome to my ----- life
A beautiful broken aura
             Unsettled flakes
             The sound of yesterday
             Shattered winter glass
Transcend to the unconscious mind
Frozen, dead, yet alive
Hell, escapes my future of eternal suffering 
Tiny buttons of snow -fall to my feet
Firewood burns endlessly,
The hairs of her soft skin rise like wheat
Shadows by hand flip the hourglass
The possibility of change takes  --- need
She stands on the outside of my dreams
Looking in;
Quietly she summons the cold legion 
Confused, trying to cleanse her soul 
She wipes off old fingerprints 

White glitter, forgotten notes
Spiritual spells enhanced in a quiet villa
Shadows of hands toss the glow
Daydreaming inside another dream
Falling flakes in hopes of peace
A warm bedded cabin sits at ease
Observing, breathing, mind settling
Swirling into an earthy feel
Another long downward drift
 
Shadows of hands set the tide
She awakens, sharing the stars
She mocks the sun, her eyes sparkle
Covered in snow - aging peacefully
She fibers to soothe her soul
She reeks, neither heaven nor hell
Temporary punishment, rattling thoughts
Captured in a transparent globe
Passing through a purgatory world
No walls, no in between
Falling far from the echoes of life
Sacrificed by death before salvation 
Transcending to the unconscious mind
             Shattered winter glass
             The sound of yesterday
             Unsettled flakes
A beautiful broken aura
Depart from my ----- life             

By: PD

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015

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 | Year Posted 2015

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 © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2015

Details | Limerick | |

The Arc Of Life



Travelling through life resembles an arc We start out as a child emerging from the dark To reach a crescendo Establishing a tempo Then sadly we all must eventually disembark © Jack Ellison 2015

Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme | |

Memories Of Bygone Days

Memories Of Bygone Days


O' yes,  how well I remember her still
giant black oak atop big wooded hill
Those treasured days now long flown by
our free spirits flying so very high

Summer days within Nature's fine realm
majestic views that did so overwhelm
Cloudy days in the meadow far below
flowers galore, O' what a great show

My lady and I went up there to park
glorious scene set our hearts to spark
Under canopy of that old massive oak
she sweet words of undying love spoke

Our tree saw our love start to bloom
picture of that oak in our bedroom
Two years it watched our love grow
how was it to ever see or dare know

Life came and flew on us so fast
love came deeply but failed to last
Fate sent us onto far different treks
love destroyed, both lives were wrecks

Now I pass that massive tree on the hill
memory recalls her beauty , what a thrill
Time destroyed the scene it ruled then
O' the love of what should, could have been

JULY 2015



Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme | |

Call Of The Wild

I envy those living as part of the wild For I too, once heeded its call A smoldering ember since I was a child Urge, and belonging all part of the thrall. I’ve enjoyed the fresh taste of a sparkling stream Felt the tremble as you push through your fear Stood high on a peak admiring Gods scheme Felt both delight and remorse for taking a deer. I’ve walked for weeks through valleys and trees Traversed mountains with lush native grass Felt the warmth and the cold of high country breeze Navigated tussock, forests and high country pass. I’ve smelt autumn rain as it mingles with dirt Enjoyed the isolation of me and my views Valued crude shelter while nature unleashes its hurt Watched forest birds doing their best to amuse But I’m now destined to be one of societies slaves In a world where worth is measured by cash Where worry and stress are delivered in waves Where those without are regarded as trash. I felt most alive in the middle of nowhere Now dead when hemmed by city and streets Nothing compares with fresh mountain air Living free, no money, bills, or receipts.

Copyright © Mark Woods | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

She Hulk

When I was a child I only ever wanted to be strong.
I wanted to be able to compete with the boys
and when I foot raced them at recess I won every time.
They called me ‘She Hulk’ because of my muscular frame
and from the way I only ever wore soccer t-shirts and sweat pants.
After that nickname was implanted into my brain like a growing weed,
I’ve only ever wanted to be feminine.
I started wearing skirts and dresses 
and in middle school they shrieked at the site of my makeup and done up hair.
But that weed inside of my mind only grew, and grew, and grew
until I became a mixed drink cocktail
with one part anorexic and two parts lonely,
because I thought that the definition of feminine began with the word frail.
No one ever realizes how greatly words affect us,
how a simple nickname can turn a pretty girl into a skeleton.
I stood at five foot two weighing seventy nine pounds,
so cold and frozen,
yet I still considered myself a ‘She Hulk.’
You could see my ribcage through my t-shirt
and my spinal cord protruded loudly through my weathered skin,
as if somehow my bones were dirty knives
just trying to cut through the flesh of judgment.
As I grew older I became the girl that was never enough.
Not good enough to speak poetry.
Not good enough to lay paint on a canvas.
Not good enough.
Not tall enough.
Not big enough boobs for them.
Not primped to perfection.
Not undeniably straight.
Not smart enough.
Not dumb enough.
Not ditsy enough.
Not cool enough or fun enough.
And I began to believe, too, that I wasn’t enough.
I never told my mother that I had been in madly in love with a girl.
I never told anyone about the night we first kissed 
because I was too vulnerable for the judgment.
And parents always justify saying that ‘kids will be kids’
But when we are kids our brains are still growing
and the smallest of seeds that get planted will one day bloom
into one giant regret,
will one day affect the choices that we make,
will one day influence us about the clothes that we wear,
will one day shape us into the person who we thought we would never be.
I only ever wanted to be strong,
and as a child I thought strength was only about being able
to lift a bar stool above your head.
I thought that strength was only about being able
to beat the boys in bare foot running races.
I was told that strength was something only
a man could have.
But as I’ve grown older I’ve realized that strength
isn’t about muscle at all,
but it’s about weakness,
and the ability to overcome the social anxiousness.
It’s about carrying around a lifetime of baggage
on your broken back
because the ones that kicked you when you were down
are going to be the ones that were  ultimately wrong.
I thought that the definition of woman 
began with the word disappointment.
And I became a mixed drink cocktail
with one part freedom
and two parts Sailor Jerry
because every girl needs a stiff drink once and awhile.
We are not disappointments.
We will never be the ones who gave up on hope.
We will never be the ones who gave up on each other,
or god,
or our mothers.
We will always be enough;
enough for the ones who shunned us 
enough for the ones that cursed us
enough for the ones the hurt us
and destroyed us
and beat us when we were covered in bruises.
But you see, bruises fade
and the scars of our flesh are only stories
things we have overcame
and there are things out there that we will overcome.
When I was a child, I only ever wanted to be strong.
I hid my vulnerability.
I hid the parts of me that were true.
I never told my mother about my girlfriend
because I was afraid she wouldn’t understand,
kind of like all those people who never understood 
just how much words effect us. 
I can’t say that I can beat the boys at foot races anymore,
because, well, I smoke cigarettes now.
And I can’t say that the nickname of my childhood didn’t affect me.
But I take that name now and embrace it.
Because I am strong.
I am the ‘she hulk’.
I am a mixed drink cocktail
with three parts greatful.

Copyright © Katie Pukash | Year Posted 2013

Details | Tanka | |

Eternal Soul

The soul's forever—
As an eternal spirit.
Leaves this mortal coil . . . 
	 Again to the spirit world 
And home to Heaven’s Kingdom!

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, 
Schoeningen, Germany (November 7, 2014)
(Tanka poetic format) 

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme | |

Well of Souls

How many souls live on the edge,
Between the gutter and the ledge?

A hopeless fear crawls in their gut,
Each day, another endless rut.

The moments pass profoundly slow
Sad, bitter winds are all that blow.

A man lay huddled near the bin
Hoping death will take him in.

Frozen tears, on wrinkled cheeks
Frostbitten ears, and shoes that leak.

His mind forgets the games of tag,
Old Crockett's hill, where down they'd slide.

A summer rain, the puddles deep
Out catchin' toads, to tame and keep.

His life began with dimpled cheeks,
Red tousled hair, and hide 'n seek.

A tough old Dad who tricked and teased
A pretty Mom who smiled with ease.

They had a farm with fields of hay
A few old hogs, and bills to pay.

One summer day, the sky turned black.
A howling wind brought down their shack.

Dad sold the hogs, and cut the hay.
The farm was lost, we drove away.

The next two years were grim and lean.
Dad broke his back, to feed us beans.

When winter came our food ran out.
We found old Dad hung by a rope.

Without poor Dad, no food or fire;
Mom took my hand, the day was dire.

The Sister's face looked mean and sour.
I thought of Mom most every hour.

They scrubbed my back until it bled.
cut off my hair, then I got fed.

'Twas many years before I left,
My Mom had died a tragic death.

Now all alone, I lived and slept.
I begged for food, and sometimes wept.

A life of days and endless woe,
Now time is dead, and death too slow.

As you walk by those 'homeless freaks'
Remember me, with dimpled cheeks.




Copyright © Kimberly Shaw | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme | |

LIFE'S STORIES

His eyes are dark, but, there's still a spark. 
There are canyons in his face.
His lungs are gone and it won't be long,
'Till his heart can't keep the pace.
He's lived three lives, had his share of wives.
The decades have been nine.
There's a soul to bare, with a joy to share.
And he always says, "I'm fine."

He's a wise old man and the whole damn clan,
Likes to hear him tell his tales.
He remembers when as a boy of ten,
He was raising up the sails,
Of his father's boat and he'll always gloat,
"It was hard work for a boy."
"Hell, it was hard for men, but I'd go again,
Just to feel that youthful joy."

With dreams to follow and pride to swallow,
He reached for life with lust.
Following his heart, met his first sweetheart,
On the street he calls, "False Trust."
After one short week, they were heard to speak,
"Until death do us part."
Then, the next two years, thunder, lightning, tears.
And she left with his torn heart.

Lost in grief a while, it was hard to smile.
And he wore his armor well.
Heartless, hurt and laden, but a fair young maiden
Put him under her sweet spell.
Speaking of her dreams, and the gold dust streams
Sparkled in her clear blue eyes.
Making his blood stir, and he followed her 
To the land of pastel skies.

Bitter cold up there, but he didn't care.
She could make the hard ice melt.
Then his heart returned, and a fire burned.
True love was what he felt.
She could feel it to and the fever grew,
Like the child in her womb.
But, a family was not meant to be.
And her corpse became it's tomb.

His whole world shattered and nothing mattered.
Streams and canyons echoed pain.
Cursing God and man for the evil plan,
That was driving him insane.
Wandering aimlessly in the open sea,
Of demented souls that quit.
Two long years go by, and he can't deny,
He remembers none of it.

Then at twenty five, well, he comes alive,
And decides to live once more.
Like a broken spell, he walks out of hell,
Passing through life's open door.
Everyone there knows where the story goes,
And the old man kind of grins.
With a little wink, he begins to think,
This is where my life begins.

There was gold out there and he didn't care,
What it took to make it his.
"I'll be rich one day," he was heard to say,
"And that's just the way it is."
Well, he mucked and slaved but he never caved,
So the gold gave up the fight.
There were nuggets found measured by the pound;
Bringing golden dreams in sight.

Just a vagabond who was rich beyond,
The means of any king.
He was young with health and he bathed in wealth,
As the girls began to cling.
Well, he played the field, but he wouldn't yield,
To the pressures of the heart.
There were memories, love was some disease,
That could tear a soul apart.

He was rich it's true, but he also knew,
That you can't buy happiness.
So, he headed down to his old home town,
To what? He could only guess.
It was strange to see the old filigree,
Pressed in frames upon the wall.
Faces lost somehow to the years that now,
Drift into his heart's recall.

Seven years had passed since his father last,
Took a breath upon this earth.
Mother held him tight and to his delight,
He began to feel his worth.
No conditions there, love was everywhere,
Riches far beyond the gold.
So, he bought some land, and he took the hand,
Of fate with a life to mold.

Was a big barn dance, when another chance,
At true love was brought his way.
With her skin so fair, and her golden hair,
He was drawn to Jenny Mae.
Dancing close all night and to his delight,
She allowed a little kiss. 
When he dreamed of her, the thought would occur.
There was too much there to miss.

He was ready then, his heart soared again,
And he longed to tie the knot.
Down upon his knee with a marriage plea,
A sweet wife was what he got.
Life brought so much joy when their baby boy,
Had been born out on the farm.
And eventually it was them plus three.
Fate had swung it's loving arm.

There were ups and downs, but the world goes round,
With reunions every year.
And he swells with pride as he holds his bride,
Sitting next to him it's clear,
That we may grow old, but there's always gold,
To share when love abounds.
Laughter all about, life that seems to shout,
Love's the greatest of all sounds.

Tell us more, they say, right up 'till today;
He's reminded where they were.
He includes them all in his tale as tall,
As an ancient Douglas fir.
Jenny holds his hand, ah, this life's so grand.
And the old man kind of grins.
With a little wink, he begins to think.
This is where my life begins.

Copyright © Robert Nehls | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

View From The Top of the Trail

It’s an unknown journey, but I see a trail
heading to the light of tomorrow
There will often be times I'll be afraid, to go
I may stumble a bit, with an eager heart
And may tremble climbing cliffs of old sorrows

There are deep, black chasms I will not forget,
where slopes slick, with pitfalls, are waiting to trip 
But I've gone too far, and I can't turn around,
Just as the sun can't turn its back on the day 

The trees speak in tongues, so foreign to my ears
using parched, old voices, and tears from the sky
Scraps of brittle leaves litter, with dust all around
Mixed with words left unsaid, that I've left behind

There’s a sharp mist of hope, at the bend of the river
yet,sun on my face seems to lend, 
the slope of the rain, but the warmth of the sun
      with an open blue sky at the end


_____________________________________________

Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Welcome to life the journey begins

A child is born crying his eyes out wanting to return to the warmth of his mother's womb Once held a sense of security is felt with his head resting upon his mother's chest Welcome to life - prepare for a bumpy ride this won't be the last time you want to cry Life is an unpredictable journey as a traveller, many passengers will pass you by Dreams will be crushed, but also achieved hearts will be broken but also healed After every storm a rainbow will appear but this too is only temporary - as is life Life is also spectacular and wonderful a platform to achieve the ultimate goal Life is a balance of being fortuitous combining the right formula to succeed No one can tell you what will happen tomorrow nor predict your final destination People say destiny is written - maybe it is my advice is to always smile in the face of adversity set a legacy to be remembered for who you are always strive to be better than yesterday and finally to enjoy the journey The Silent One 15 November 2015 Trashed 4 contest by Broken Wings

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme | |

MY DAY IS COMING

I used to mow the lawn with joy.
     And trim up all the trees.
Prune the hedges, tend the garden. 
     Way down upon my knees.
Shoot the bull with good time friends.
     Now, most of them are gone.
And, I know my day is coming.
     I guess it wont be long.

             BUT NOW......

I sit in shade, with tea in hand,
     And wave out to the guy,
Who mows the lawn and trims the trees,
     While I just sit and sigh.
I dream about the friends I've had.
     We always sang life's song.
And, I know my day is coming.
     I guess it won't be long.

             AND SO......

I've made some new friends here and there.
     It's hard to be alone.
Have shared some stories, had some fun.
     A few more friends have flown.
Created some new memories.
     When memories are strong.
And, I know my day is coming.
     I guess it won't be long

             WELL......

I wrote those verses years ago.
     But, I'm still going strong.
And, I know my day is coming.
     I guess it won't be long.



   



Copyright © Robert Nehls | Year Posted 2014

Details | Quatrain | |

- 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 © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2015

Details | Masnavi | |

Crystal Bowl

Crystal Bowl

A gold fish swimming round and round.
	His world of glass is all surround.
Round and round, day and night
        every round, reunite.
Day after day, night after night,
	Everywhere he looked, always the same sight.	
Outside of his bowl, there was a window.
	in the horizon something full of glow.
It looked like a pond, further than beyond.
	When he called that pond, there was no respond.
Love first taste is sweet, it makes you complete.
	But if you mistreat, pain always repeat.
Dreaming day and night, of that golden sight,
	Cool and clear night was filled with golden light.
Broken heart will cry is not satisfied.
	The meaning of the ” love” is always mystified.
Outside of the house a narrow twisted creek
	having conversation, with a language of mystique.
Calling up our fish, knew about his wish.
	Telling him” love” is, painful and foolish.
Telling him that life is a stream that flows;
	hoping for the rain, wishing for rainbows.
Gold fish heard the stream, which destroyed his dream.
	In order to redeem, did something too extreme.
Jumped out of his bowl, thinking of his goal;
	The golden pond became his body and his soul.
He landed on the ground; the dirt was all around,
	The meaning of the “love”, for him got so profound.
He started to scream, his voice was just steam.
	What if there is no dream? Death will be supreme!
He twisted, flipped and flipped, by luck in water he tripped.
	His breathing came along, in water he was equipped.
He swam in back and forth, he twisted south and north
	He cried in water cold, of what the” love” is worth.
He passed through his teens; his youth flew like dreams;
	The autumn came and gone, his winter had no greens.
He reached the golden place; the place was filled with grace;
	His life began to shine, the sadness showed no trace.
Swim and swim in wine, makes your soul refine.
	If you swim in “ love”, love will let you shine.	
A fisherman cruel and old; with eyes reddish and cold
	He cast his net so wide, for fish the truth unfold. 
Our fish cried and cried, his world got cold and dried.
	His life was passed him by, he gave up and complied.
The next day for our fish, was filled with tarnish;
        Once more crystal bowl is fraught with anguish.
This time golden pond, that was far beyond;
	Called our golden fish, he got no respond.
Love first taste is sweet, it makes you complete.
	But if you mistreat, pain always repeat.
Remember our fish with his golden wish;
	If you fall in love, get wild and foolish.


Haloo

Copyright © Pashang Salehi | Year Posted 2015

Details | I do not know? | |

Daisies

Daisies" 
by Lori Maria Walton

Come walk with me among the daisies
Not with the roses, as they have thorns
But among the lucid pulchritude
Waiting with open eyes to the sky
For whom she lives
 
Today, walk with me among the daisies
Elevate your eyes to the indigo azure
And ascertain love’s authentic disposition
Contemplate the sheltering expanse dancing above
Admiring  the daisy field
 
Walk with me among the daisies for a moment
Knowing they fade into the winter
Receding into the cold earthy mirth
Waiting for the sun to coax a new blossom
into obvious view
 
Live with me among the daisies
Bring your passions to these fields
Inosculation of spirits
Brios entwined in submission
To the seasons of life
 
Leave with me to the daisies
When time can be no more
When you are tired from the roses thorn
And long for gentleness and mercy
To hold you through the night
 
Lay me softly among the daisies
And let me dream of how they made you smile
And you remembered life’s sweet innocence
As you played in their petals creating
A life of beauty and goodness
 

Copyright © Lori Maria Walton | Year Posted 2014

Details | Classicism | |

Upon Misty Morning's Fast Fading Glow

Upon Misty Morning's Fast Fading Glow

Upon misty morning's fast fading glow, 
dance fairies on glittering silver wings. 
Flying with fantasies flowing in tow 
And sweetest joy such dancing often brings.

Above their heads the rising sun awaits, 
its morning sun's time for shining anew. 
If fairies are seen, man then contemplates, 
dreaming depths of that rare mystical clue. 

As dancing wings fast flutter to depart, 
one ponders glistened myriads of fate. 
Sadness beating in dreams of every heart, 
with embellished scenes of day's opened gates. 

Upon that vanishing flash time cries out, 
woe to he that simply waits upon me! 
Free living is what life is all about. 
Life taking dire chances is living free- 

In those windless breezes summer moon shines, 
In the deep dark no more secrets to dread, 
The grave beginnings we have all kept live ---- 
Weeping misery and ancient-kept death 

The mountains moan, the mountains moan! ---- as babes! 
Those creepy-crawly mists fade to fortune; 
Wondrous winds in a panting night do tame ---- 
The fevered child once wan with vacant love 

A horn Gabriel shall blow through pink clouds ---- 
And sleeping stars bring life with bright-night-light 
A world to shine and illume all year round; 
Broods of good company and simple delights 

The morn shall pass and with it mad darkness, 
The heavens death cannot roam freely so; 
Old Lucifer, huffing and puffing red! 
Upon misty morning's fast fading glow.

3-04-2016

First 16 lines written by Robert Lindley 
Last 16 lines written by Keith O.J. Hunt

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016

Details | Marsiya | |

I'm my Daddy Made Over

Dedicated to my Dad Jerry W. Niday 3/20/1952 - 6/18/2013


I am who I am because of him
He’s the reason for my son’s name
He gave me my courage & my strength
To stand tall even when standing wasn’t easy
Stand for the ones who can’t
To think and fend for myself
I’m my Daddy made over

Taught me to fight back 
To never back down
How to pick myself back up
When I’ve been knocked down
Fight for what I believe
I’m my Daddy made over

He gave me my stubbornness 
Gave me my pride
Gave me my temper
Taught me not to take crap
To speak my mind no matter who
Work for what I want
I’m my Daddy made over

How to keep my emotions in check
How to handle large amounts of pain
When in trouble he always had my back
He knew how my mind worked better than anyone
I got it from him
I’m my Daddy made over

Even though he’s gone
I’ll stand and continue on 
I may stumble I may fall 
May even get hurt along the way
But I’ll pick myself back up
I’ll dust myself off and stand tall
I’m honored and proud to say
I’m my Daddy made over


Sabrina Niday Hansel

Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

A Golf lesson

Over fifty years have passed,
Tho’ it seems like just the other day;
My father gave me golf clubs,
“It’s a game you need to learn to play.”

He said, “It’s very difficult, but so is life.
There’s more to learn than grip and swing and rules,
Like honesty and dealing with adversity;
Then, pointing to his head, “… and how to use ALL your tools.

Play the Course… and Mother Nature…
Focus on just one shot at a time;
Try to learn from each of your mistakes;
Then, do your best to leave them behind.

These clubs will teach you more
Than our ‘man to man’ talks.
This you'll learn for yourself,
So you can “walk the walk.”

“Practice makes better, but not perfect.
And always remember what they say:
‘”Golf is not a game that we can win.
It’s just a game we play.’”

His lessons served me very well,
Took them to heart and play the game.
And life is much like a round of golf.
Despite the bad shots, I’m always glad I came.





 








Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014

Details | Haiku | |

The Internet: Rtrn

A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
Procrastination!

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative | |

Together As One

Together As One
To dream as one.
When we dream we dream as one. When we laugh we laugh as one. We have a life 
together that compliments one another. We have a love that is like no other it’s as 
one. We reach for the stars and look for the moon. We support and care for one 
another on our journeys as our journeys cross paths.
We listen with excitement to each other’s dreams. To understand and encourage 
comes from the heart. Knowing with certainty that we deserve the love we give and 
receive as we are as one. What is wonderful for one is so for the other for our life 
path is the same. Knowing one so well is to know one’s self without a doubt.
Dreams that come together both big and small shared by knowing hearts that want 
the same want are as one. A love so strong can feel and guide with the stars and 
moon. Set in motion a force together nothing can sever but blessed be a dream 
together as one!
Dream, laugh, and love we do as one for we became one. Together we reach for the 
stars and the moon as we share the paths we take. Our journey takes us many 
directions to which we share our delight. A journey worth taking is a journey worth 
sharing…sharing as one!
                                                                                   Debbie Knapp


Copyright © Debbie Knapp | Year Posted 2011

Details | Narrative | |

New Road

In a new road,
Rain will fall,
Wind may blow,
Swifting our woe.

The road forever on and on,
Many paths to choose,
Many paths to take,
Home behind,
World ahead...

Through the shadows,
Through the night,
Clouds going by,
There we will lie,
Very deep,
Seeing shivered land,
Seeing the dead seas...

Through the edge,
Miles to go,
Singing by,
Darkness rising,
Vanishing light,
Hollow flourishing,
Going by,
World ahead,
Home behind...

Rain may fall,
Through the nightfall,
Through the twilight,
Through the dusk,
Through the dawn,
Beyond mountains,
Beyond stones,
Standing strong,
Wandering lost,
World ahead,
Home behind,
Paths on and on,
'Till the road comes along...

Copyright © Ruben A. Hernandez Diaz | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Flickered Candle - A collaboration with Eileen Ghali

A huge shout out to my dear friend, Eileen, for creating a wonderful memory with this collaboration. There is a vital lesson when moments like this are created: The cure to uncertainty is togetherness. May we all make more memories like this. Friendships, real ones, are a commodity.

Surrounded by impenetrable marble

A stained glass perception
Milks dignity from dilapidated pores

I stare unto retribution’s flame
Gliding softly on waxy façade

Holding the hand of a friend

I hold on, 
Strength
Waning

Distorted view of reality
Piercing inner sanctum

Veil of peace

Tranquility
Torn asunder
Set aflame

Melancholic facades
Dripping in hardened tears
Waxy build-up

Inner core of existence

Reality

Licked by burning infernos,
Extinguished

I hold on…

Holding the hand of a friend

We raise eagle’s wing
Banishing oppressive lips

Venomous soliloquies
Tasting alliterated misdirection
Uninvited to solace’s peak

Our time is now
Our time is now!

Our time
Turning hourglass sands
Into horizontal awakenings

This eloquent candle will never wane. 

Our strength faces resurgence
Your hands to mine

My soul awakened, revived

Our orange-hued sands of time
Reversing ravages of melting tears

Candle light, incandescent,
Burning
But not melting
On this night

Burning,
But no hesitant flickers,
On this night

Generating heat of bonded hands
Bonded minds

Burning flame of mystery
Light

I hold on to your hand.

This is our time

OUR TIME!

Words set to eternal flame

Oh, yes. 

This eloquent candle shall never wane.

©Drake J. Eszes & Eileen Ghali

Copyright © Drake Eszes | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

The River

Before the weary pilgrim, flowed a river fair and wide
The way was filled with danger,  he couldn't cross the other side;
So the pilgrim sought another to be his expert guide
With a boat that could take him through the surging tide.

The sailor man was strong and he steered the boat so well
Or did the river bear the boat?  It was so hard to tell;
The sailor told the pilgrim of the signs that he might seek
Of the secrets of the river and the message it would speak.

Then the pilgrim felt the peace so he listened and he heard
The murmer of the river and sighs of whispered word;
He heard the river laugh and then he heard it cry
And the pilgrim heard the message as sad tears filled his eye.

He heard the drums of war in the torrent of the rain
And the awful cries of anguish that he never could explain;
Was there a reason for the crossing, or where the river ran
Was there another reason for the journey of this man?

He heard the sounds of death, he heard the sounds of mirth
But nothing that he heard gave tribute to the earth;
The sounds were fused together till they reached a common goal
And the quiver of his heartbeat found a cadence in his soul.

The river lost its birthplace and embraced the open sea
And the pilgrim gave his thanks on reverent bended knee
He opened up his eyes as the sunrise slowly died
But the sailor man had gone and the boat rocked on the tide.

The river filled his veins till the two at last were one
While the tide rolled on forever and earth went round the sun;
The pilgrim was the river and the boat and sailor man
Were the journey of the song, the singing river sang.




This is my adaptation of "The Ferryman" by Herman Hesse


 

Copyright © elizabeth wesley | Year Posted 2012

Details | Personification | |

The Heart of Imagination

I smell the scent in the water
As it pushes through my gills
My desire to return
beckons me to the place of my birth
For me the desire consumes me

I struggle against the current
Imagining my place of rest
I desire to place my children 
safely on a bed of stones
Sweet water to welcome me home

I know this to be a perilous Journey
I may travel over a hundred miles
Grizzly bears and Eagles block my path
They are to be my test
Yet I am strong
I have swam the oceans
I have known predators greater than these
They will not impede my path

Flying upward in the air
I glimpse the night moon
reaching towards my horizon
water splashes as I make my way higher
Almost
yes, almost home
I push beyond my limits
gathering speed

My sisters and I
we turn the river red
Arriving
thankfully arriving
imagination spawns reality
Estuary,
cool relief!
I release seven times
Now, completely exhausted
I can finally rest
Thirteen years 
I have waited
To come home.









Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

The Same

You used to look at me.

You glanced upon my ripened, caramel skin
With palpitated affirmations
Of your smile

Love
Friendship

Inebriated

Your titanium pupils
Illuminating across Merlot filled chalices

Another umbrella drop
Another hungry thrust
Unto solemn choruses

Another choir of sonatas
Filling our bells
Turning the tides
Against full moon deceptions

Yet, the sun rose.

We would lie on park benches’ lap
As I covered my thorns
To avoid your judgments
Drawing your attention to cresting waves
By our lakeside

Yet, the clouds rolled in.

As vehement rainfall
Caused my roots to blossom
My thorns to strengthen

You were poked by my errors.

Another angel cries.

These wingless flaws I shed
Within retinal waterfalls

As I hold onto empty, rickety barrel
For dear tomorrows

Am I
Now
Not good enough for you

Has your pulse’s arrhythmia from yesterday
Become
Stagnant

Will you still take my hand
In whimsical slow dance
Through God’s uncertainty

Because, tomorrow,
I will still be the same.

©Drake J. Eszes

Copyright © Drake Eszes | Year Posted 2013

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

the day you flew to Heaven


           We knew , it was if a moment stopped in time 
              hearing the news before most of the World did
           He loved to fly his plane from Colorado to Monterey Bay
           He was a avid golfer at Pebble Beach respected 

           He had loves and passions from many places 
           deciding to fly low through the overcast red sunset
            Not only did he love music and inspire all 
            He loved his Plane , he will always remain a beautiful Soul

              The next day it was confirmed ..all saddened 
             It was John Denver's plane that went down
             Today in Pacific Grove stands the Memorial 
             So Kiss me and smile for me we will ~
              always in loving memory 
               OH babe ,  do we hate you go ~    
                            
    

         Inspired by ; contest in Music and Loss of an Artist
                   "Leaving on a Jet Plane "
             

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

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 | Acrostic | |

Seed Of Friendship-A dedication

L-iving in a world of vast 
souls formed from 
another voided world,
E-ntering thru portals 
from their world to earth.
O-ozing spetacular smell 
and wail when the chips 
are down.
N-urtured from cradle to 
adulthood-independent
entity with a new world 
to face.
O-rganizes oneself for the 
task ahead,passing thru 
hurdles of life unabased 
and unabashed.
R-eaps the fruit of labor 
with joy or heavy heart.
A-ge sets in,mission 
accomplished or not will 
dawn on the entity.

I-n retrospect,he thinks 
about his childhood and 
how life was to him.

L-iving in confidence or 
shame,he bows his head 
in victory or defeat.
O-nly the taste of time 
will tell the durability of 
his achievements.
V-oid of preference the 
aim result bears the 
foundation for his lineage.
E-njoyment or lack lies 
with the works of the 
man,for there is no food 
for the slothful.

Y-oung ones,a stitch in 
time saves nine,make 
haste while the sun 
shines.
O-iling your lamb always 
like the ten virgins is the 
key to success.
U-rging you to shun peer 
pressure and focus on 
the course marked out 
for you by fate,so a 
fulfilled life you shall live.





An acrostic for you 
Leonora Galinita.

Copyright © Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

Man's Quest For A Greater Future

Man's Quest For A Greater Future

Sunken man, a mystery in the making
 earth gives and gives to we so selfishly taking
Blue sky, giving color to a tired, hectic life
 time to sit to rest , to break from daily strife

Shattered homes, they decay as we flee
 racing into a future we imagine , so rarely ever see
Earth eats up , the mess we so often make
 shouldn't man rest, rest from all the greed and take

Parched and dry ground, foundation we need
 as we cut and stab we see not all the terrible bleed
Mother earth a bounty, yes, tis Heaven sent
 we must stop, enjoy before all earthly beauty is spent

A rest, a hope, before onward we often so foolishly race
We that take too much and rarely ever bother to replace!

Robert Lindley, 12-07-2014

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2014