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Dedication Life Poems | Life Poems About Dedication

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

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Details | Free verse |

Edinburgh


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

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




*This is a re-post 
replacing an opinionated piece


+/-


Details | Free verse |

Forty Today

Visited you today
as the sun set in the horizon…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I look around me
and look for that sign

Nope, not there…

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

I kiss the date that you were born

and walk away

my reflection on the car window
misty

One last look around,

and then I see it…

a cat, as we drive away…

Skies now streaked purple and pink


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


Details | Acrostic |

Open Sores

I am a coward with open sores. 
I write and wonder who it bores. 
I hear my heart and mind argue repeatedly. 
I see others carrying out my dreams; 
that’s what’s defeated me.
 
I am a coward with open sores. 
I pretend open doors are closed, and walk the other way. 
I touch base with the fear in my heart, tearing me apart,
leaving nothing to say... 
I worry the world will leave me. 
I cry because no one believes in me. 

I am a coward with open sores. 
I understand nothing comes easy. 
I say I’m happy, but even I don’t believe me. 
I dream I am healed and brave. 
I try to overcome my weaknesses before I’m in my grave. 
I hope you hear me.
I’m on all fours. 
I am a coward with open sores. 




©  2011  ~JSLaM    

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

* 1st PLACE in Contest "MARCH MADNESS" Sponsored by C. Devonshire 2011

* 1st PLACE in Contest "ONE OFF" Sponsored by Brian Strand 5/11/2011 

* 1st PLACE in Contest "BEST EVER" Sponsored by P.D. 2011
                 
   


Details | Free verse |

Soul mates solace

When my final shadows cling on desperately
Where I fight formidable battles
to merely hold the light
I send you loving vibrations
and soul sustenance
Deep from the cathedral
of one heart to another
where today no choirs sing
nor symphonies play
Yet it is here where we meet
in spiritual solace
here to surrender 
and exchange inestimable treasures
recollecting memories 
like unopened letters
Galaxies are stretched
over chronicles of shared history
Nebula birthing stars
will be exposed
in forth-coming conversations
bringing short-lived fulfillment to you
Hungry to feast
now will be the time
to approve your blood art vision
and with my own haunting surrender
as dappled shades ink stain your chest
I will reside with you and share, mesmerised 
pens - by branding
as this will be your written reams to me
your artist's pallet or brushed canvas
no need for words
and yet creating
mysterious magical moments
Bitter-sweet the music
that dances taut guitar strings
but now blood approved
please go kick your heel up
return to your laughter
and ride on the breeze
for not all are lost
change not
for I am with you always
to love, listen and comfort as one
with you in me and I in you
as masterpiece


Details | Free verse |

The Woman

See the woman.

See the face behind its age.
See the beauty of her form.
See the way her way becomes her.
See past her once taught skin, as it was 
when it enflamed many a man.

See the way she holds her head;
the tilt of her neck, the ease
of her being.
See the strength that binds her jaw,
unrelenting in its flex.

See her hurt displayed, as shadows
fall like night upon the earth,
eager for rest and resolution -
retribution,
for the one she could not save.

See her darkness. See it very well.
See it shatter like glass, glinting,
when she giggles like a girl.
See her shine.
As the shades of dark days rise,

See the years that grace her eyes,
like rays of her own sun
exponentially shining forth.
See forgiveness in her patient hands
as they weave memories with a touch.

See the breadth of her breasts,
unapologetic,
for they have quenched her children’s hunger,
soothed their frantic cries,
and became the safe haven for her beloved.

See her empty, scarred abdomen –
round and perfect in its imperfections,
once holding the essence of all things;
carrying creation within –
see the divine home of God.

See the innocent baby,
the impetuous youth,
the voluptuous woman,
the devoted wife,
the selfless mother.

See the wisdom of the grandmother –
the epitome of every moment lived
for someone else, and the realization 
of the circle.
Hear the acceptance in her sigh.
See the gifts she has given –

see the woman!
See the goddess!
The beginning and the end!
See the infinite that bares the name,
Woman!

See her for all that she is and isn’t.
Smell her scent and know you are home.
Taste the strength of her words on your tongue.
Hear her experiences like your own.
To touch her soul is to touch perpetuity!

See her face in your mirror.

See the tears that fall proudly
upon the woman you’ve become,
and hope yet to become
                          in time;

when you have lived through all that has been 
set before you –
tasted each woman’s tears as if they were your own.
When you enter that perfect union,
timeless ancestry;
when you become,
when you come
full circle;

you will see yourself in all things, 
and your journey, will see you back

home.



*Reposted for Chris's Get Your Rebel On, Contest! This was written with my Beautiful 
Grandmother in mind. She saved my life in more ways than one. love you, Gran. This one's 
for you. (and every woman, and woman lover, here)


Details | Narrative |

A Story to Tell

A heart read and quoted by many in this lifetime Battle scars that remain and yet shielded by a peace of mind Walked several miles and traveled while teaching others how to embrace Remains courageous, faithful and strong with persistence in any given case Blindsided by those who are willing to love and cherish her to the end Silence becomes her guard, her armor, her protector, and best friend Tears of pain, and sorrow, all of which are from a past memory Times shared, lost and gained, the negative days are history Mental pictures are drawn from imaginations that lead her to an untraceable place Recruit no one, for life has taught her that there is no room for more mistakes A mind reader that has established herself to be two steps ahead Portrays an interesting novel, a world kept secret unread Admire her dearly for her patience, wisdom and knowledge untold How does she continue to live life so freely far from her empty soul?
Pace, G INK-U-SCRIPT


Details | Rhyme |

Goodbye, My Child

Where cradled canyons sing
Of ebony wood in the forest
There lies a gurgling spring
Where cockcrows sing their chorus
To the melody of singsong birds
There I’ve concealed my sensuous words
Filled with befitted signs
The saccharine whiff of my designs

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

Where the fogs of night are fountains
Spills of glistened moon ignite
By distant silhouette mountains
We dance with passion of fight
Entwining ancient stance 
Mingling hand in hand we dance
Till the mountains smile on high
Near and far we spring
To pursue the realest of dreams
While the world cries at its seams
Anxious in trouble to cling

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

To where the ridges merry make 
From the beaks of wooden bright
In sparkly pools the ghouls awake
That scarce to stir our night
We watch for seekers down under
Muttering secrets in their soul
We bid them lucks of shivers
Dipping gently in
From reeds that hide a tear of a foal
Under the gentle rivers

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

Far away she shall ever churn
The taciturn eyed
She’ll listen no more to turn
To the working mills beside
Or the scrubbing of the barn
May peace weave in her song
She shall wave in the yarn
To a haven known as Belong  

Come to me my mortal youth
To the wild realm of your truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only your tears be found

For she comes, the mortal youth
To the wild realm of her truth
Where nymphs and gnomes abound
For the earth is filled with weeping
And only her tears be found


Details | Couplet |

EDGE WALKER

                       EDGE WALKER 

Waking up to the depth beyond such things everyday
One day I choose to walk and become Queen of Mandalay

In the depth of my ocean mind
I Find my soul diving and trying to unwind

Peer pressure can not handle all the empty space
Avoiding the worlds relativistic mass by the human race

Over using the power giving to me
Sleeping at times disappointed by humanity

I walk in darkness to help you reach the light
I twist the darkness to give you a better sight

Walking at the edge of all things with the ability to precept
Using logic to compare and intercept the emotions we can not accept 

With the emotional picture of a fast heart beat
Wiping out the brain waves with a mood in heat

Giving enough flow to the power of intuition
Exceeding the knowledge without the book of Revelation

Receiving the pointless pain in a persons chest
A wreck who ignores the emotions to digest

A mood string of self manipulation eating away at the mass of reality
Some viewers are so unperceptive, a low self esteem of stupidity

A curse a gift with ability to know everything, illusions of feeling it
with an emphasis so useless you can not admit

Trusting one day came with a price, alerting my ego on strong
Using my energy to direct the purpose of the wrong

Walking like a tool threw out the worlds philosophy
A weapon of thought not meant for the mindless or monstrosity

The hidden riddles of life are the ones before your eyes
Grasping the concept with the attention of ending lies in our lives

Proceeding the ethics of the center of ones endless layer
accepting the birth of all responsibility, over the edge of a mind player

I gave the thought with a natural twist of a moving spear
Expanding the horizon of the hemisphere

Edge walkers down and broken standing without
Walking straight forward with the same God and Devil in doubt

Simply looking through "rose colored glasses."
Chaos from the ugliness of avoiding the large body masses

Balancing out the change to allow the flow
follow logical emotions, that destroys a mind blow.

causing the opposite to any action
effect the law of any equal reaction

expect to accept the unexpected, a dull way of life
connect the keeper of the masters weapon knife 

with religion  comes weakness of not standing tall
with the strong perception of life even one can fall

Standing without the generations of a crawler
living as a shadow he or she who believes the edge walker

                       by;p.d. ~June/6/10


Details | Rhyme |

Mankind's Greatest Mystery (inspired by Chris Higgins)

If 2012 prophesies prove true
And Earth’s life cycles again renew
Mysteries of man will be more than a few

Challenges may await future life forms
With intellects far surpassing our norm
Created to live without doing harm

For if they decipher man’s history
What will they make of our great mystery
The one we refer to as bigotry

Black labs, gold retrievers live side by side
Wild stallions and mustangs on prairies ride
Both red ants and black, free to colonize

Man’s refusal to accept differences
To wiser beings may make no sense
What in man’s makeup can give it credence?

Earth’s subsequent creatures may reproduce
Not needing two sexes to call a truce
So mating rituals may be pursued

A single-sex species might not comprehend
Why women workers were paid less than men
And why “free speech” was not just a given

Questions would most certainly arise
How a believer in God denies
Rights to free worship without compromise

And how could so many wars be waged
Evoking God’s name in death-march crusades
With killing, torturing in every age

Indeed such mysteries in man’s history
Would leave a perplexing legacy
Sure to confound any new species

New cultures may thrive on diversity
Of religion and genealogy
And speak of our inferiority


Note:  This is dedicated to Christopher Higgins whose poems about prejudice inspire readers 
to do more than just think about one of the greatest ills in our society.


Details | Free verse |

Awaken From Deep Slumber

'Rise like Lions after slumber
In unvanquishable number -
Shake your chains to earth like dew
Which in sleep had fallen on you - 
Ye are many - they are few.'

From the poem: "The Mask of Anarchy" written by Percy Bysshe Shelley
____________________________________________________________________



O child, 
how frail you seem in certain angles of light and shadow,
with your cavities,
fractured attention deficiency,
and thickening skin of apathy.

You are a victim to the plague,
playing amongst flowers filled with poison,
staring at screens to fill in the boredom
of having your young mind brimming
with over-stimulation -
information seeps in without warning,
beamed into your skull 
by 360 degrees 
of high-def, infra-red, wireless mobility.
24/7 programming of insidious adverts
breaches your skull in a mind-rape,
proving how the Death of a Salesman
was only a sideshow distraction
for the Kleptocracy to successfully purchase
the dark side of the moon -
control the tides,
control the mind,
buying our hearts and souls
in order to auction off our future
to the highest bids of people already dead.

O child,
yet I believe in you,
there is still hope left upon your shoulders.
You are strong,
your mind cuts like a blade.
And if you care,
if you dare,
what a significant burden for you to bare.
The time has come,
the time is ripe,
this is it,
there are no more second chances.
I pray for your success,
for you are our very last hope.
Please learn from my mistakes and failures,
absorb the goodness I have left to offer.
I tried, I truly did,
but the Hydra spat me out as a broken man.

Lost Children,
we left seeds inside the belly of the beast
for you to survive on within.
God speed, take heed,
do not attack the Kleptocracy from the outside,
its Dragon's heads will cut you down -
will cut you down without mercy.
You must advance peacefully
with a rogue's armour of false calm,
let the machine devour you whole.
Bide your time,
survive on the leftover seeds,
dismantle the Hydra from the inside,
rewrite the program from within.

Lost Children,
shed the tired cloak of apathy,
don the mask of alternate endings,
de-rail this present destiny.
Everything rides on you now,
everything rides on you.

The Kleptocracy broke my back,
but my mind is still intact,
and I know you can do better than I did,
believe that you can do better than we did.
I pray for your success,
pray for your safety and protection,
everything rides on you,
everything rides on you now.






December 8th, 2011


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