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Inspirational Imagination Poems | Inspirational Poems About Imagination

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

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Details | Quatrain | |


The ranch on which I hang my hat, though short on most the frills,
Is thirteen sections, give or take, of rugged trails an’ hills.
We call it ‘home’, our little world, our very own frontier,
Amongst the cattle, sheep an' goats; the varmints, hogs an' deer.

Today I watched the breakin' dawn an' whiffed the mornin' air,
A time I often set aside for things like thought an' prayer.
A Mockin'bird an' Mornin' Dove, an' other birds at play,
Were there to sing an' set the mood to start another day.

This mornin' saw the strangest thing, like time itself had merged,
An' all the souls who once were here, appeared an' then converged.
In swirlin' clouds of mist an' fog, right off the bluffs they rolled,
Till all had gathered in the glen, the modern an' the old.

The Indians, conquistadors, an' other ancient men,
The soldiers from this country's wars, an' cowboys from back when…
They all had come from yesterday to help me understand
Our link with those who came before, to heritage an' land.

A crazy notion, so I thought, that they could just appear,
But as the morning went along the reason got real clear.
They rode along with me that day to show me things I’ve missed,
The things I’ve seen a thousand times an’ some I’d just dismissed.

Those wagon roads of long ago, still evident today,
Are carved in rock an' rutted earth, not apt to wash away.
They linked the missions, forts an' towns those many years gone by;
An' left their mark for all to see, as modern times grew nigh.

The artifacts an' weathered ruins attest to yesterdays,
When others came an' lived their lives in very different ways.
We've seen their skill in arrowheads they honed from fired stone,
An' craftsmanship in beads an' tools they fashioned out of bone.

At ever turn and trail we took was something to remind,
The Maker must have had a plan laid out for humankind.
The Earth He made’s been feedin' us a half-a-million years,
An' used it's wonder, force an' change to challenge pioneers.

I do not know if they'll return or if they’ll feel the need,
But I’m prepared to ride the trail, where ever it may lead.
We all are spirits ridin’ time with bodies of the Earth,
Whose time has come to take the reins an’ offer up our worth.

The land has been the legacy we cultivate an’ reap,
The life has been the heritage our father’s fought to keep,
An’ we are bound throughout our time with those who came before,
To put our hearts and souls to it, and make it something more.

Copyright © Jim Fish | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse | |


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



Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |


through a tiny lens
held firmly with hands
eyes gaze in awe..

with a simple twist
colours explode harmoniously
bright, sparkling,blinding..

the colours are stunning
so vivid, so alive
with truth as in life..

this ever changing vision
is but broken glass shards
not whole, not complete..

simple, plain, tiny pieces
they don't fit, they don't belong
different shades, different sizes..

fragmented, swirling on command
no direction,they stop; at one's touch
and through this seemingly disconnect..

therin lies their beauty
for these tiny glistening pieces
imperfect jewel tone shades, dance; together..

revealing the essence of life,
humanity and all who breathe
for they gloriously join; naturally..

to inspire joy, excitement, wonderment
the green piece could be a used wine bottle
tiny violet piece from a castaway vase..

regardless of their origin
these magnificant, illuminating pieces
unite as one and magically dance..

with truth as in life
beauty is as beauty does
fusing together, naturally, effortlessly..


broken shards now glistening jewels
the spirit of every man, woman and child
is part of this most magical creation..

for every size, shape and gorgeous hue
is us; in every race, age & size
coming together, to create, to inspire..

tunnel vision seamlessly vanishes
as eyes are opened; captivated
at the wonderment, joy and harmony of..

becoming one; beautifully and with faith..


Copyright © Lynn Marie | Year Posted 2006

Details | I do not know? | |


are like my thoughts
falling down into my mind
sending goose bumps down
my spine

Their cool aftermath
cleanses me of my thoughts
of fear and uncertainty 
about what tomorrows
pain may bring

They make me feel,
wet with creativity
drenched in my optimistic
illumination. glistening
raindrops, my thoughts
leave paths of pleasurable
distress, and hope of success
which road, less traveled
may be the best

Forget an umbrella
when these raindrops
arrive, I walk outside
arms open wide

Ready to Receive
the mind storm may bring
because raindrops are
as my thoughts, falling
down into my mind
sending shivers down
my spine

My brain, yearns
for the rain, to wash away
the pain, tomorrows worry
does bring
One special drop
could speed up life's clock
to the time
I can handle my own
and not dwell inside my controllers

For raindrops are,
like my thoughts
falling down into my mind
sending goose bumps
down my spine

Copyright © Heather Hill | Year Posted 2010

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 | Acrostic | |

Poetry Palace

Poetically poised on a dainty hill
Overlooking ever blue seas
Eagerly awaiting this surreal ILLUSION
Turrets made of imaginative calligraphy 
Ruins that echo CREATIVITY 
Yearning to belong in this poetic home

Paddle your toes in the moat of letters 
Allowing the INFUSION of words to make a sentence 
Listen to beautiful melodic lyrics in the great hall
Attic of ancient and famous sonnets ghostly sing 
Carrying you EVENTUALLY to high emotional state
Ending up, it's INEVITABLE that you live forever on the dainty hill

By Emma Buckeridge
For contest "Poetry Palace"
2nd place win

Copyright © Emma Buckeridge | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |

Moonlight Shadow

Moonlight Shadow

Broken dreams
On purple flamed wings

Celtic rumors
Burning bright

Crosses and crescents
Knights and swords

In the mist of a weary mystical night
I saw her lying there, chest broken and bare
Picking her up, horse galloping away
We escaped the arrows and swords
She my sworn enemy lay half dead and splayed
My duty for not to tribes, but only to save
Slaved to the sword, this moment I escaped
Both bloodshed and grief
Freedom at last

In a hut in the forest
I dressed her wounds
I caressed her heart
Our eyes met over the firelight
I emptied myself into her
She, with lips so sweet
Drained the flood of tears and hate
From my very being
Shocked that love should strike me as an arrow
I held her, my first and only love
For three days and three nights
We whispered to each other foreign words
I touched her face and as she touched mine
In my arms she died
Softly and loved

I buried her
I buried my hate
I buried my sword
I buried my history

Celtic rumors
Burning bright

I, at peace
For the final flight

I held love within my arms
For that celestial moment in time

Now the final embrace
Wrinkled and old
I kiss deaths door
Knowing within
She is there to greet me

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |


Beneath the opal white moon, the crying doves shed their precious tears,
Causing the purple rain to fall, melting at the lavender notes of musical dreams,
Camelot’s illusionary ivory towers of brilliant colors, seemingly fades unto the
Violet shades of gray, as the minstrel’s music grows silent for the last time!
The pied piper’s fluted guitar, remains stilled in the silence of a generations
Mind, the world weeps in fuchsia stained technicolor for their slain prince
Of rock in roll, plays now within the heavenly band beyond, rocking the
Ages, lost amongst the spiritual stardust from which creations mystical
Legacies are born!
In reverences musical temple hall of fame, another name is added 
Amongst the universal giants, that have crisscrossed humanities 
Triumphant vast historical tides, rolling ever onwards within the waves
Of the timeless rebel, jamming with the beating rhyme of the 
Human soul forever!
Gentleman’s coterie of lace and satin’s refinement, is this instrumental
Conductor strumming, at the inner finite strings vibrating within the
Harmonic orchestra of an eclectic mind, a whispering dreamer whom
Heard an expressionistic tempo hidden within the color purple,
And thus wept in the violet rain!
A flickering candle quivers within the moistures clouded wake,
The concert master stands alone at the center of the musical hurricane,
Untethered from his slave marked chains, the band leader strikes against
His podium of freedom at last, rock-n-rolls final creshando, echoes
Within the winds of destiny, carried upon the voices of his generation!
Legends burnt ashes rise above this fiery phoenixes’ resurrection, 
For in truths resolve this singing firebird’s melody, shall play forever 
Onwards, as the doves cry in flights eternal soaring!
Where has the musical voyager gone, the visionary fuchsia master,
The soul captain hailing the distant shores of rock nirvana,
By playing mystical notes of color illusions, on the blank canvas
Of the horizons musical sheets, beyond mortality’s everlasting
Window of social acceptance!
Let the elegant birds of peace fly forth, with their wings appendages
Extended upon the breezes of this artistic grand master, set blazing
In lavender flames, quenched only the falling of the purple rain!
But even then harken, listen my generations of rock fans,
Can you not hear the wailing guitar, of the musical force, known
 As prince the visionary revolutionary!



Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |


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


Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

Imagine Nation

(Inspired by and Dedicated to the Memory Of John Lennon)

Imagine nations of togetherness,
Brothers and sisters becoming one,
Imagine nations on forever's quest,
One heartbeat staring at one sun,
Imagine nations with outstretched hands,
Offering each to a stranger's needs,
Imagine nations who understand,
Every person hurts, everybody bleeds,

Imagine nations ending war,
Sans malice, and abundant smiles,
Imagine nations unlike before,
Teaching love to every child,
Imagine nations achieving grace,
Serene lives and elated minds,
Imagine nations on an infant's face,
Full of innocence easy to find,

Imagine nations devoted to peace,
Wishing no harm on any man,
Imagine nations as we know to cease,
Reborn and taught a perfect plan,
Imagine nations of future times,
With love becoming the tie that binds,
Imagine nations by this elation,
Imagine nations with this Imagination,

Copyright © Audonus Taylor | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

Little Glistening Salmon

“Momma… what are those lights up there?” “Those are salmon fish, glistening in the sky…” … She begs to understand your fears, your passions, your pursuits She is down on her knees, and you above Feeling the tears drip from the heavenly precipice… She wants to catch them in her eye And truly… see And she does see….far off…beyond the shade, Beyond every single worry river… Two pairs of eyes across the way Glistening with perception, set upon a face so serene… A warrior stance of their own, the eyes gaze… She is both torn and joyous to meet them, And had she dared to look away, the cares would flee And thoughts would spew faster than the rapids… Where the salmon skid upon the rock… Only to be grabbed and mauled by the world Those eyes reveal a face…a mind so sharp, yet loving Unraveling a heart that could bear the strongest boulders Hurling them higher than the moon… Watch! Little glistening salmon fish floating in space Her giggles would make you smile, The lights in her eyes would melt you and shape you Her and your heart you would both hold so close In almost an innocent embrace Then, suddenly, in that moment, a newness would emerge Something deeper than anyone has ever imagined to feel Not two—but one would understand For one you would become Yet… there are so many questions she longs to ask you So many…yet does she carry those answers? Are they written upon the skies? In the trees…or the bustling breeze? In the small recesses of a child’s imagination? …. “Why do the salmon float in space, Mamma?” Her hand squeezes the child’s palm affectionately… “Because his love for her was so great…that he lifted the greatest, strongest boulders from the creeks…the salmon would skid upon the rocks only to be met by the great paws of the bears…but before they were caught and devoured by the hungry creatures of this world, the Great Warrior with eyes of justice hurled all of them toward the moon just to see her smile… the stars you see…are the fish that are free!”

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2014

Details | Verse | |

The Winds of Time

One day I was passing time
And wrote these words upon the lines,
I know not where they came you see
The Winds of Time were there for me.

If I could open a door to the past
And there before me were the paths
I'm not quite sure which I would choose
But The Winds of Time would see me through.

The vastness there before God's Hand
Then came the heavens, the seas, the land
Eden, Noah and the Christ Child's birth
Is the path that I see first.

I'm not into Knights or dragon days,
Nor Robin Hood and his saving ways,
But give me a Viking as he crosses the seas
And I'll dream of the lands so wild and free.

The music of Irland calls to me,
Where Kathleen's heart has ever been,
And for Danny Boy the fifes do call
I'll shed my tears lest he should fall.

As Immigrants touched upon our shores
The Indians prepared to fight once more,
But fate stepped in and eased the sore
They'd live in peace forever more.

The  battles fought upon this land
To protect us from Tierney's hand,
The Civil War for Freedom's right
The Alamo where comrades died.

At Little Big Horn where our soldiers died,
As Indians defend their homes with pride,
The government later took a hand
And put them on Reservation land. 

I remember well, when I was quite young
The days of World War II
And how my father's life did change
When the family business he assumed.

Twenty-four seven was unheard of then,
But that was their working day,
They helped keep our nations trucks on the road
Their battlefield was here in the USA.

I'll choose the path with pastures green,
Horses, cattle and the cowboy scene,
This is the land of my mother's birth
The most precious land to me on earth.

I chose this land and took a stand,
Married a cowboy and we ranched the land.
Though now retired and family gone
This land will always be our home.

The Winds of Time, know well my soul
I'll rest at night with days of yore.
And as I wake a prayer I'll say
Please God, may we have Peace today?

                       Cile Beer

Copyright © Marycile Beer | Year Posted 2005

Details | Quatrain | |


Self-gratification is the fruit of one's love,
making the artist's delighted face glow...
when every vision has been achieved,
and each intention joyfully revealed.

He will envision the shape and colors,
then transfer those images to canvas;
and with the gentles strokes of his brush...
real faces will appear and suddenly blush.

Thinker and dreamer, let passion and imagination flow,
don't be distracted by worries or external sounds below;
work diligently with your brush, transcending your own credibility...
but later, it would be too hilarious to scream out your insanity.

Self-gratification is the fruit of one's love...
that enduring, timeless legacy hard to ignore;
when others show admiration, you'll be so pleased
and motivated to add more laurels to your prestige.     

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse | |


Adrift in this vast,
empty sea. Silent,
save for the beckoning call
of  distant gulls,
your only friend. And 
the makeshift mast and sail is
uselessly flaccid.

And beneath,
by the dangling sway, 
of muddy-
moss-green ribbons of waving kelp,
is the dark murk
of unknown depths.

Then the wind 
arousing your sail and
it swells into life
and draws you towards home.

Copyright © Rickie Elpusan | Year Posted 2005

Details | Quatrain | |

She Danced

The flowers danced within the breeze
The music box dancer danced with ease
She danced and danced within his heart
For he loved her from the very start

Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

Grand Canyon

Some people are voices
On the edge of rocks
With steep slopes and cliffs.
Some people are echoes
At the bottom of walls
Carved by rushing waters.

Copyright © Leon Stacey | Year Posted 2007

Details | Ballad | |


I bent down 
kissed the top of her head gently 
For , I must go, 
in to the night 

This beautiful blue world 
I cannot see it all in one day 
Sails set and unfurled 
Moon, full 
Silver at play 

A kiss to last... 
A day... 
A lifetime... 
For, I must go.. 
In to the night 

On the deep blue 
As wide... 
As my heart is open 
Beautiful blue world 
I love it too 

One day at a time 
A kiss to last... 
A journey... 
As far as the heart, 
is prepared to go 
A kiss to last 
Journeys' past 

One day at a time 
This beautiful blue world 
Held in my hand 
Like a kiss... 
A set sail... 
Such things 
To my heart, 
always last

Copyright © Matthew Brackley | Year Posted 2007

Details | I do not know? | |


When I tried, I’d grab your hand
Pull you close and hurt you inside
When I lived, I’d bring you down
There’s nothing left to live for this time

Funny faces, painful places
Tempting lies and metaphoric races
Spiteful smiles, selfish trials
Losing friends within my denial

When I gave, I’d take the land
Sell it off and then demand
If you give, I’ll share the wealth
But now I’m done and I see sand

Trading thoughts, selling pain
Despising trust unless I gain
Unheard sounds, silent voices
Expressing nothing and no more choices

I got lost in fear but now I’m fine
I fell so far and lost all time
Landed on my feet and heard a rhyme
I heard my breath and took in this sign

Waking, feinting, coloured paintings
Shivering and understating
Take my mind, take my soul
Circulate it all as I’m creating
Words that breathe, words that show
Wisdom as my eyesight grows
I’ve seen the fall, I’ve felt the breeze
Swam through space and shadowed trees
Another death and I’ll be fine
My soul has finally aligned
Though my body still a cage in time
My spirit travels and I find

I got lost in fear but now I’m fine
I fell so far and lost all time
Landed on my feet and heard a rhyme
I heard my breath and took in this sign
The world is round and so I spin
I’ll close my eyes and I’ll begin

Copyright © Ian Petch | Year Posted 2005

Details | Ballad | |

In Fantasy Land

There is a place where one can go
To laugh, to hope, to always know
There’s nothing too hard for you to stand
When you dare to come to Fantasy Land.
Oh Yes, do come to Fantasy Land.

Come soar with me to heights unknown
To ecstasies not yet full blown
To dreams, and schemes and wondrous plans
They’re here – right here in Fantasy Land.
There’s laughter here in Fantasy Land.

There is a place with song, and dance
And moonlit nights made for romance 
And all these things are at your command
If you believe in Fantasy Land.
The air is fresh in Fantasy Land.

With sunlit days and starlit skies,
And streams and lakes; palm trees so high
And oyster pearls to hold in your hand
But you must believe in Fantasy Land
The sun is here in Fantasy Land.

Imagine your troubles are melting away
With thousands of moonbeams lighting your way
Whatever you need, or want and plan
Is yours, when you come to Fantasy Land.
Enhance your mind in Fantasy Land.

For what do you have if not today?
Those sorrows and problems can fade away
For a time, at least – yes, feel the sand – on the beach
It’s here, in Fantasy Land.
Across the bridge, in Fantasy Land

Copyright © Neva Romaine | Year Posted 2009

Details | Haiku | |

The Internet: Rtrn

A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

over and over agin

sometimes i talk to myself, 
my mind is racing,
i dont know what to do...
so hard to explain.
depression isn't a stage
or a faze some kids go through
it shatters you...
i saw it all. 
she cried silent in her bed,
blood stains covered her favorite jeans,
her every shirt,
long sleeve ofcourse...
she suffered through it all with few people to call friend
and more to call enemy
even more to say where quite dissappointed....
her first name in school,
not started by a bully
or a mean rival,
but by her sister, 
and it echoed through her soul,
repeating in her mind... over and over again,
like the ripples of still water
when a pebble is dropped
flash frozen in time
over and over again...
It was the first name they gave her,
millions where created over the years,
some unique
some repeating again, just as the first had..
gothic they called her,
emo, fat, ugly....worse things.
but in her mind, things where worse.
everything was repeating,
over and over again,
finally she believed it. 
she asked for help, from everyone
tried to explain to parents she wasnt well,
got called a psycho for asking to see a theripist,
not from a teacher,
not from a class mate,
but from her own father, who wouldn't, couldn't,
believe there could possibly be a thing wrong....
finally, crying, she confessed her bloody secret to a teacher.
rather then giving her time,
she is sent back to class crying her eyes out, as if she wherent going through enough...
she is sent to the principals office a few minutes later, after breaking down in class...
the princlipal says she needs help,
sends her and her dad for a risk evaluation,
her dads crying as she shows him her cuts...
they walk into a hospital room, 
it smells of chemicals and hand sanitizer,
the lady at the desk gives her a smile.
then she goes into a room with a lady,
her cheeks are sunken in and shes wearing way too much makeup,
the girl is gaging on her perfume,
and she looks really intimidating....
her dark brown hair looks dead and flat
even though its a bit wavy, 
and she wears somewhat of a mocking frown.
asks her all these questions,
is mommy beating her?
is daddy raping her?
is she doing drugs?
not alot
is anyone beating her?
did anyone molest her? 
oxcarbezapine, trazadone, citalipran, clinazapam, colonipan,
valium, lithium, more.......
and thats what they gave her,
some numbed the pain
some brought it out
tearing through her organs,
she became an addict by the time she was fourteen....
over dose after over dose
some for pleasure
some for pain,
gashes on her legs getting deeper,
this time she didnt tell a soul,
not even those she had come to call friends....
wakeup she screamed in her head over and over again
as she dropped weight like it was nothing....
you cant controll it she argued as things became worse. 
at age fourteen she attempted suicide,
she didnt quite succeed.
the medication took away her aappitite....
she liked it
she hated her body
hated herself
felt out of controll
found a new way to cope
as she shoved tooth brush after toothbrush down her throat
to keep her body from nuitrients...
as she whent weeks and weeks spitting food into napkins and making excuses 
I ate at my friends house....
spoken as a whisper
heard like a sentance
echoing in her mind over and over again,
along with that word, all the words,
ugy, anoying, stupid, fake, worthless, nothing...
one bite she would say
rocking back and forth
craving nothing but food
her body racked with hunger pain
one bite and there she was again
over and over and over again
back to a toothbrush
this time she sees blood
she saw her ribs
she saw her bones,
it wasnt good enough,
she almost died, again....
choking on this deep dissappointment in herself,
gaging on everything they where pushing down her throat, 
their words, and their insults, their criticism.... their drugs
all shoved down her throat like candy
and just as she was was trained to do she swallowed despite the bad taste
or the hurt
or the fact that at the rate she was going she would be dead soon...
and you know why? 
because daddy yelled 
and couldnt accept what was happening
not because he wanted to hurt her
but because it hurt him,
and she let him believe,
because she could take the hurt if it meant he didnt have too.
because mommy didnt want to sit in her room all day
smoking weed
doing nothing,
practically having us raise ourselves,
she didnt mean to take anger, or frustration or hurt out on her daughter
she suffered everyday in her solitary confinement,
and from a young age she accepted her bedroom was the cage
 her mother had created for herself.
because sister didnt want to effect her the way she did
she was just frustrated
fed up with the way things where
scared, she needed someone to take her cruelty
and to help heal her pain...
because people in school
who where so cruel
had to have learned from somewhere
and she wasnt going to play into their games,
and they knew she was an easy target
because she would never attack someone so weak
and she accepted her suffering was a sacrafice
to help all these people....
to help her dad,
her mom,
her sister,
every person who was beaten abused or hurt
 and felt so weak at home they wanted to feel strong in the one safe place they had.
because depite the fact she had died inside,
and almost passed away on the out,
it was a saccrafice she was willing to make
so that no one else would have to feel that kind of pain,
and they all inflicted it and broke her down'untill there was nothing left but a shell
of somthing that could have been
and never had the chance
and why? 
because she would take it and wouldnt strike back,
because sometimes "just taking it"
isnt so much about the weakness not to do anything
but about the strangth not to hurt others the way they hurt you...

Copyright © cassie hellberg | Year Posted 2013

Details | Personification | |

At the Pawn Shop

I met her  in a pawn shop on a warm summer night
When running from the rubble of  my shattered life
To sell a broken dream that would never come true
An engagement ring to pay for the rent that was due

There she lay sleeping in a battered rosewood bed
Heart strings breaking in a rusty sea of velvet red
So hauntingly beautiful, she took my breath away
Violin - an old reject who would change my life that day

So I bought Violin and lived out on the street
And played Rhapsody in Blue as coins fell at my feet
And soon we had a  little flat high above the Bay
And every day, I got better with every note I played

Today I am a maestro playing Carnegie Hall
My name in lights blinking on a Marquee Wall 
For it was I who saw myself in Violin
A tarnished soul and the beauty buried there within

Author:  Elaine George
Written:  2013

Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2013

Details | Lyric | |

CANDLE 1st in Spanish then scroll down for english trans

VELA (CANDLE)First Spanish version, scroll down for English)
Yo ser‚ para ti.
Toda la vida que me queda la vivir‚ para ti
y cuando el tiempo haya terminado,
morir‚ por ti.
Dir‚ tu nombre
en cada vela que encienda, respirar‚ tu nombre.
Te susurrar‚,
cada oraci¢n que diga ser  siempre parte de ti.

Por toda la eternidad,
y as¡ ha sido y ser  siempre, 
y cuando deje este mundo,
aquello vendr  conmigo
en la luz de una vela.
Todo el mundo sigue girando, haciendo el d¡a y la noche,
y de la oscuridad a la luz,
ser s siempre parte de cada oraci¢n que yo diga.

Yo ser‚ para ti.
Como una fresca quebrada de la monta¤a que se desborda por ti
como una c lida brisa de verano
entre los  rboles para ti.
En el brillo de una vela,
todo lo que he sido o llegue a ser 
por toda la eternidad,
tu ser s parte de todo lo que yo haga siempre.
Yo ser‚ para ti.  

					Traducci¢n: Emilio J. Saavedra M.     CANDLE	
I will be for you.
All my life that is left, I will live for you,
and when time has run out,
I will die for you.
I will speak your name
in each candle that I light, I will breath your name.
I will whisper you,
every prayer I ever say will be part of you.

For eternity,
and forever it has been, and will always be,
and when I leave this world,
it will go with me.
In a candle light
all the world keeps on turning, making day and night,
and from dark to light,
you'll be part of every prayer that ever comes from me.

I will be for you.
Like a cool mountain spring that overflows for you
like a warm summer breeze 
through the trees for you.
In a candle glow,
everything I've ever been or will ever be
for eternity,
you'll be part of everything I ever do.
I will be for you.
© Ron Wilson aka Vee Bdosa the doylestown poet

Copyright © Vee Bdosa | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

World above the clouds

Far away from this bonded crowd,
Far away from these layers of 
Oh wings of the air glide me away,
To the world, world above the 

To the giant mountains of mist,
Where sparkling houses of rain 
be built,
World beneath where would be 
And sun rays where will be cold 
and soothing.

Where I won’t be bound by laws,
And I could speak freely about 
things I love aloud,
Yeah to the world with cloud 
above the clouds,
Where everything just everything 
will be allowed.

Sliding on morning dews that stays 
till night,
Diving in the night’s sky that looks 
like morning light,
With no paths to follow,
I’ll glide free and fast,
Yawing, pitching, bouncing, 
Like the endless penumbra it’s 
unknown where I’ll last
Yeah endless it is,
And it’s unknown where I’ll last

For Above the CloudsContest
I think I am late :-( posting this 

Copyright © Shiraz Iqbal | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |


Hooves of aquatic thunder these white steeds
Of wonder, slamming against the coral reef
As hail storms rage, set us free their voices
Softly speak through the seashells littering
The sandy beach.
Enchantments cursed beast of purity’s beauty
Trapped within the foam and spray, touching
Almost the land then in sorrow’s undertow
Driven back is this mystical herd of wild
Poseidon’s sacred water horses, surfing
Within the frothy s riptide of mermaid tears,
Clashing their silvery horse shoes, against the
Rocky edges of the under currents tidal surge
These titans of the fathoms deepest depths.
Lightening immortals shimmering, bathing
Translucent beneath the hued blue waves,
The last unicorns beg for release, to run
Freedom trails once more, to feel the
Mountains breezes of liberation flowing
Through their milk white manes again.
But silence is the reply from their capturer,
Unmoved is his trident of power, sitting on
His ivory thrown Poseidon watches these
Wonders of myth, and relishes in their
Spectacular beauty, vowing never to
Set them free, thee belong to me, my
Sacred water steeds of the bluest deep.
Within the seashells hear them weep,
These creatures of the mystical realm,
Crying out, release us please, can thrust,
Not hear us.
Out of the water, to feel mother earth
Beneath our silver hooves, we give our
Horns of crystal power, or the shimmering
Shine that beguiles our under sea father.
Out of the water, we’d roam in the wilderness
Wild, roll amongst the sandy duns of the desert,
Climb the mountain tops heights, and breath
The sweet air of freedom within our lungs.
Out of the water, for just one single day,
We sacrifice all that we are, or were in
Mysticism mystical realm,  just to be free!
Hooves of aquatic thunder these white steeds
Of wonder, slamming against the coral reef
As hail storms rage, set us free their voices
Softly speak through the seashells littering
The sandy beach.

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |


Thick or thin, it is the Friday night order in special,
Supreme or meat lovers delight, whatever toppings
You like it, does not matter for it’s 
The all American favorite, Pizza!!
Roll out that dough, cover it with Italians specialty
Sauce, cheese me to please me, I’ll never get enough,
I’m simply addicted to this deep dish pan delicious stuff.
Cut me no single slice, for more, more, more,
Is the thunderous roar of my mighty hungering’s
Rumbling, within my tummy, for what Pizza!!!
Circled or squared, just roll that pizza cutter of 
Portions pleasure, pick up your slice and allow
That thick cheese to pull apart naturally,
Then bite into Nirvana, for this is heavens
Perfection guaranteed by the slice.
Now the frozen microwave style may work in a pinch,
Delivery or the hot and ready special can satisfy
My personal hunger glitch, for that tasty pizza pie,
As long as can get it, I’m satisfied.
Oh grant me one pleasures sinful command to break
Dearest lord above, to indulge myself, and stuff
Myself with pizza, pizza until I burst, for gluttony is
One distractions fault I have dear father, when it
Comes to this circle food, as it spins on the nightly
Commensals boob tube.
Is it not against the law to hide messages within
Certain text, because I swear these advertisers
Know our fragile human weaknesses, late at night
For  this delectable substance, called what
Pizza, if I haven’t mentioned it enough,
Yummy, yum, yum old chum.
It’s the party hardy mid-night special, on all
Channels of the United States of America,
There is no doubt of this, rock my world
In flavorful old time favorite, dude I’m
With you all the way, especially on a 
Friday night.
This is my declaration of independence
Declared in Italian sauces redden stainy ink,
Give me Pizza or give me death, just kidding
Folks, by the way do you want that last
Pizza slice, I’m not quite full yet, lol.


Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Sonnet | |

If Love Does Not Live (Sonnet for Celene Crescent)

If love does not live so that love may live,
Wrecked on rugged rock like a pirate ship;
Tiresias speaks to hearts—no love to give,
Darkness and void with no inspired lips;

If love is quashed short of its golden prime,
Like dinosaurs smashed by a meteorite;
Crushed from its age of blossoming on time,
Like breath strangled from life not to unite!

Then O’ love, send me Pegasus to ride,
Spread your wings—lift us to Zeus in the sky;
Touching constellations with them abide,
Creating cherished crescendos for weepy eye:

Lightning life beaming love from golden clouds
Descending passion upon earth erasing shrouds!

Copyright © Joseph Spence Sr | Year Posted 2010

Details | Monoku | |

Silence Speaks

Hush.....Listen as silence speaks.

Copyright © Marlies Agdomar | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |


Alone figure stands, 
On sunsets rock.
Summers hot breezes brush,
Against bare skins flesh.
Stalking the ageless path.
Behold histories Indian brave, 
Man, and horse intertwined.
Symbiotic beings joined,
They are one.
The spirit rider gallops, 
Across freedoms trail.
Cautiously, allying arrow unto bow,
Aiming swiftly his shot to kill.
Guardian’s raging bull charges,
Protectors sacrifice, blood mingles,
Amongst dust clouds aftermath, 
His majesty lies slain.
Dark brown eyes close, 
Glimpsing blue sky for the,
Last time.
Heavens prairies, welcome destiny's,
Honorable foe,
The hunter kneels beside the giant's,
Stilled heart,
Giving thanks, singing chants rise,
Ascending heights greener, 
Pastures unto a higher plain.
It echoes in valleys deep,
Touching the lands of his,
 Fore fathers.
Tonight beneath flames tribal fires,
Rhythms beating drums, gives praise,
Many shall celebrate, feasting,
 In memories tribute,


Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative | |

Silver Strands

Slate gray streets made even darker by cutting raindrops
Umbrellas popping up everywhere, people seeking shelter

But I stayed put, wanting to get drained with the rain,
then I hear this tinkling voice that says, “Don’t you just love it when it rains?!”

I look at her wearily and her eyes actually gleam with laughter
Oh geez, this lady was my total opposite.  I was brooding, she was brimming.
I power-up my go away vibes, but she was like a darned magnet…
Was I the ferromagnetic one, or was she?

She gushed on the metaphor of rain in her life, and I didn’t feel like drowning.
Listening to her amidst the onslaught was so refreshing, making me thirstier…

There we were, two drenched souls, sitting on the pavement, chatting up a storm.
Of all her descriptions of rain, one in particular stood out for me…

Pearl drops strung on silver strands …

She said, “Rain for me would be silver strands streaking an otherwise somber sky…
pearl drops strung on silver strands, broken by the heavens to share with us.
See how precious it is?” Then she continued on with the metaphor for pearls…

Her words felt like windshield wipers to me, and I could see clearly now
By then, the rains had softened, and a lone pearl drop landed on her eyelashes
-that made me look closer at her eyes… her beautiful, wise, yet cloudy eyes…

I have never looked at rain the same way since then.

For Andrea's and Susan's Silver Strands contest

Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2011