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Life Inspiration Poems | Life Poems About Inspiration

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

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Details | Narrative | |

The Clouds

"THERE HE WAS HOLDING HIS HAND OUT"

My voice=
God, can I hold your hand and go with you?

"Gods voice"
My sweet child, it is I who will walk with you now! You walked down my path with and without faith. You took my protection to ease your pain. My shielded wings comfort you during your moments of suffering while your life staggered across the earth... Your love and devotion are what made you strong. Every time your dreams were broken. You managed to build more dreams in their place. You called my name during your happiest and saddest moments. You always ran up to me when you fell behind. Your secrets became our private talks. The key to your heart was always unlocked. I was there during your trials and troubles of tribulations. We could not speak, but it was my light that would not allow you to get weak.

My voice=
Is this that dream of beauty? The one in the book my preacher spoke of. 
Yes! I remember it now it is called paradise. I felt this company once before, Lord.
Many times, I have forsaken this light, and still it never left my door.
I felt it the day I was born, and the day I became baptized in your holy name.
I felt this light before, can you explain it some more? 
Lord pleases clarify that day I fell down to my knees and accepted Jesus as my savior? 
Every day since, I felt as if you stood away and walked on by, allowing me to face my own failures’.  Was my life a waste in this impossible world?"

"Gods voice" 
My child, this is the everlasting light you will feel every time your body is re-born onto a new road.  This light never left you. 
My sweet child did you not listen, Matthew *19:26* MY SON looked at them and said, "With man this is impossible, but with ME all things are possible. My child you were not searching for the right answers.

My voice= 
My Lord everyone told me if I prayed you would come. Did I not pray right?

"Gods voice"
My child sometimes your heart asked for more than life itself, which left questions for someone else.  
At times how could I answer when you shunned heaven away from your eyes?
The obvious question is whether this is the final immersing of your souls disguises.

My voice= 
Lord, I have other questions to ask. 
What should I expect out of my personal sins? My testimonial sits in the palm of your hand
My mind and my heart's inner core have been wicked since my adolescence days. 
How is it that I am in your promise land?

"Gods voice"
Getting right with me has brought you here!

My voice= 
One more question My Heavenly Father
Can I see them? My Daughter, Mothers, and Sisters~

by;PD


Details | Romanticism | |

ONLY EVER WITH YOU

O N L Y E V E R W I T H Y O U Only ever with you, I love to have and hold into the circle of your arms, I'll unfold; into your blue eyes' greeting shine, my gold; only ever with you, I yearn to grow old... Only ever with you I can write rhymes as such for you bring my muse from dust to dash, to hush Only ever with you my being wants to attach as first step already taken to our primrose path Only ever with you, tips dance linger to cherry lips Slow summer hands will roam vast to wonderland Whence pearl white peel smooches chocolate skin only ever with you, heartbeats climbs a boiling point Stars and moon may leave the dark skies yet, one look at the gleam of your blue eyes day and night, I see the rising sunrise. Only ever with you, I will dive to lows or heights for only ever with you, I'll plunge to infinity. Prayers plea asking blessings from Divinity to tie two hearts and two souls in sole unity. Mindless to whatever is there in humanity Only ever with you... _______________________________________________ ©O. E. Guillermo 5:32 pm, February 26, 2015


Details | Free verse | |

The Ladybug's Whisper

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

“But, first, I just need to scream.”

…

Let me be your breeze.

In
One
Fell
Swoop

…

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

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

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

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

Take incipient steps,
Upon mended asphalt wishes

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

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

Breezes become gusts
Gusts become worshipped exhales

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

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

We sway above greener pastures.

Gusts become breezes.

One
Fell
Swoop

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

…

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

Rise, my ladybug!
Rise

Say goodbye
To detrimental trials

And caress newfound trust
Within a gentle

S				E
       M		 L
                 I

©Drake J. Eszes


Details | Rhyme | |

Industrial Nature

Ride the railway, passing the water tower,
Painted production high like a sun flower.
Howls of the engine, hooting as an owl in the night.
Buildings are the trees that come into sight.
Structured stone the jungle, vines the electric cable,
Survival of the fittest, one must be strong and able.
Wildlife runs on rubber, headlights the hunters eyes,
Camouflage the chaos among the concrete lies.
Chemical clouds collect to make shapes in the sour sky,
Blade of helicopters and wings of airplanes birds fly.
The complexity of industry echoes in the acidic air,
Beast hide in plain sight, protection of their lair.
 There is beauty in the broken, birth in the breathless blur.
 When the railway train passes through the industrial nature.


March 23, 2015


Details | Rhyme | |

TRUE LOVE SAILED OVER SEAS

TRUE LOVE SAILED OVER SEAS Have I met trouble when I met your ocean eyes for beneath that steady gaze, I reach the highest sky? Slothful moon turned grey, so the stars: tired and pale when I behold your white angelic grace. . . Distant and unfamiliar you may seem, I wasn't afraid to run, run and catch your gleam without a guarantee of us becoming one, still, I pursue to behold you, my woman. I am no Romeo nor you are not Juliet but allow me to prove, I love immaculate... Hundred miles and hundred days we may separate, yonder, seasons change, my heart to you, I dedicate. Overseas, each time the ship reach the shore, immediately like thunder, I trip to the door for me to send my love letter or find a phone excited I am, the opportunity, I don't postpone! Pity at that time, no internet or cellphones yet so the instant a signal peeps, it's you, I first check. My ears blush and so I am in fever love each time our exchange of thoughts began. Then again while we talk, sometimes, the signal fret, or without proper warning our chats end to wreck. Coins gone and so time on shore is done, again I want to dial My sunshine smile not turning to the river Nile... My heart on somersaults when they hand me your letter like a little boy with his favorite toy, I keep it near my chest awhile I am on reversed cardiac arrest, I confess. Winter feeling I have blown and within is a summer weather, ten months or a year in the middle of the sea with only your letters and photo I kiss, I, in jubilee! Years passed, I came home and I search your address, my intentions of wanting to marry you, I will express. Your parents, unsure of me, they probe too much. How many women I touched-- I gone to bed with for am a sailor, they thought to any girl I resort, I was stunned but I remain calm and quiet as I know myself, loyal to you and no one else. I tried to woo them and prove, my only love is you. God must have blessed us-- as their stone heart melt, a year later, my dream of being your husband came true. _____________________________________________________________ ©O. E. Guillermo 07:42 pm, January 19, 2015


Details | Narrative | |

Justice in the Quest For Love

I saw how martyrs longed for love, and so began the play of my flitting heart
A strange girl had I become, with airs of fickle dream,
My heart an embodiment of wonder to all that dared to behold it
Closing my eyes, I would find myself knowing something new would shine my way
Had I known what was coming, the dawn would seem far less appealing...

As all journeys begin, a darkness began to veer its head
The plot of reality melted in dissonant chords... 
Dark blue fogs of doubt caked my mind and heart 
Though the longing for love never left... 
And had it left, no dawn would await me 

I saw there were rules setting a foundation for my intensely embarked mark 
I knew if I were to feel any twinge of fire, 
I must first be rid of the fog...or at the very least find my way through it 
How it stung as it hit my virgin skin, not like gentle clouds talking me through it, 
Caressing, surrounding and seducing. . . 
No, like a poison, the bleak thickness of the doubt choking me 
Reducing me to child's tears...I toiled through its torments, 
I rested upon rough rocks of rhetorics 
Admiring their vitality and honesty... 
At one point in time I had convinced myself that I was one of them 
A rock- cold, rough... hardened and overlooked...destined to crumble 
Though more demands surfaced on this quest for love's Justice 

Weakened by the blue fogs blackening,
 I cried out in the pit of my heart, surrendering before me 
Words...kept so long inside... 
I freed them from the strongholds of my darkest nights 
And soon there was a deep, hypnotizing reply... 

Justice, tall and proud, said from above the sinking pit, 
"True, I have seen you before, 
A token of adoration you have become, 
Crying night after night in melodious black, 
With little to take, and everything to give... 
My demands are simple, as your longing is profound, 
You, yes, you! Take my hand so I may hold you tightly..." 

My mouth agape, I stretched out my hand to meet the vines of his fingers 
Clutching in sparks, he breathed into me life... and promise of love 

"Surrender your heart to the hope of love 
When you find you are not alone, as none of you are, 
When you praise with your singsong words that passion has altered, 
Giving all to a soul you have yet to see, 
You shall feel my hand lift you as I do now... 
Soon once more, you shall learn- the dawn will always be dawn 
And the night will always be your velvet pathway to Beyond." 

This, Justice proclaimed in the voice of a thousand cries of birth 
The overtones spilling out in rainbows of rapture 

It was soon after his visit, I knew I must perform... 
Surrender, faith, and action Three keys to the same door... 
And they, golden and alight, were in my hands to use 

The time came when my heart grew roses, thorns and all 
And hearts smashed their way through, though I cherished the burn... 
Fogs still lingered in the alleyway of fear 
And now I knew not to inch my way near 

For the punishment he had whispered like darts in my ear, 
"If you, now seeing the truth, dismember your heart, 
I will crush your petals into black abyss, 
I will reduce you to dust, leaving the thorns, 
I am animal in the face of failure, 
My tolerance for hate is shorter than an ant beholding a mountain 
And if you so much as reject my call, 
Hate is exactly what I will allow, 
And it will destroy you, oh singing heart..." 

This I ask of Justice, on the day of my calling, and yet still today... - 
"Tell me, oh spirit, 
Phantom of Epiphany, 
When the love I so long for locks tightly upon me, 
Becoming me, 
Shall it be as I dreamed, 
Or shall I be wholly disappointed, 
Left in the agony of reality, 
Where roses grow, thorns and all... 
Only to wither...and die... 
?" 

He was so gentle...that he merely smiled and left me... 

It was right away, soon after his departure, 
That I felt he never would fully leave... 
He allowed me to weave my own dreams, 
Finding out for myself if reality was truly as magical as they write 
And as for an answer, as dull as this may sound... it is... 

I, like many tearful martyrs before me, 
Continue to long for a love that will fulfill me 
Often reality teases me, and I know not if she is demon or angel 
Though one day, I will see reality is on my side, ugly or not 
The play of my flitting heart still beating its rhythmic drums 
The rainbows of overtones lulling me into ecstasy, 
As I see words of wisdom thriving in the hands that save 

This, though little, I know- 
Love is justice of reward beyond our wildest dreams 
He sings to us every night, never making promises... 
He just smiles and allows us to live it 
He allows us to discover, and in turn give... 
To enlighten others still trapped in the ruts of fog 
Once we feel it, there is no turning back 
Please do not let him crush those roses you have made... 
Even their foundations were meant to reach the skies 
Touching the brightest dawn...and Beyond..

 -For Justin Bordner's "Love Justice" Contest 
Love you loads, and thank you immensely for inspiring me! 


Details | I do not know? | |

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.




Details | Dramatic monologue | |

POVERTY DEFINES TRUE WEALTH

written 25th Oct 2013


I don't know if human's will ever see
 every soul born, is right where it's meant to be
For the rich to become the richest
 there has to be a place for the poorest

The entire world is built up from the same level of dirt
 each soul is born without knowledge to cause hurt
Humanity teaches us what a human's life is worth, by money and glory
 I am to believe "all lives are priceless, every soul fit's to tell Earth's story

The luckiest to be born, is that of a poor man
 he learn's the treasures, of "everything he can
Those born into all riches, have no true understanding of "richness
 seeing us not as human's, but those living in poverty "as an illness

Love start's from the soul, and from there, it is taught to grow
 the rich find another kind of love, one only brought with dough
Love, trust, compassion and grace, defining the difference in richest and wealth
 t'is the beggar off the street, who climbs the toughest road to earn his wealth 

He is the most blessed man, he is rewarded with the most valuable key
 for his wealth, is humanly "uncountable, for only God know's the value of he...




Details | Free verse | |

The Letter

"Dear Time"
Thank you for being patient, 
Thank you for understanding I'm human, after all.
Forgive me for all the mischievous prank calls. 
Much of what I said and done, was out of fun.
Now, I sit on this rocking chair getting old.
Reminiscing over the beauty and honor it has been 
   Passing this land we call "EARTH."
Reminiscing over the beauty and honor, yes-------------- REMINISCING!
Sorry if I repeat the same beat a thousand times....
You see, I sit here every day thinking this world is mine....
Trying not to forget, who I truly AM.
Every moment there has ever been or ever will be, 
Finally is taking a toll on every single feeling and memory.
Time, Yes------------------ TIME!
The wrinkles on my face will never describe how many birthdays I celebrate.
The wrinkles on my face are stories reminding my readers,
 Where I've been and come from.
How consistent, and fortunate I've been, 
Babbling about my past, present, and future; 
The only advantage of the word "TIME."
-- It helps fade hurting moments away--
You see, time is the essence of memories.
 
Dear Time,
"Growing from young into old, was not as easy as it sounds."
Please be patient with, Wait! I said that already....
Thank you for understanding what I’m going through.
Please just listen, please, be patient with what's burning deep down inside.
It's almost dinner time --once again, I mention the word "TIME!"
I'm not hungry right now, the food just isn't the same when fed through a straw.
Besides, have you seen the garments ''they'' have me wearing.
Never thought I'd live to see myself in old-fashioned nightgowns.
Time keeps adding silver to what used to be pretty reddish brown hair.
Time what have you done to me?
Please excuse if I can't work a remote or function the TV properly.
What has happened to simple technology, 
   When everything came with only "ON and OFF" buttons.
Try to understand what I’m going through, my legs never felt this tired before.
I can't seem to keep myself on the same path, 
I lose track of time when navigation issues on my own.

Dear Time, 
Take my hand, lead the way and understand I can't see as before.
Time, please allow the joy to take its time when my end is near.
Thank you, Time, for all the loving moments we shared
Thank you, Time and please be kind and end my life with love.
End my life with love-----
End my life with love-----
Wait..... I said that already....

Dear Time, 
Thanks for having patience.

Sincerely Yours 
The Little Old Lady Across the Street

by;PD


Details | Sonnet | |

The Planting

The Planting

Seeds of sorrow lay scattered along our path
 so oft intertwined with Nature's wrath
Yet till the fields of dreams we simply must
for soon , so very soon we turn to dust

Green is the color of majestic newborn fields
as man enjoys fruits of earthen harvested yields
The sweat and pain given is the simple cost
thus we survive so ALL humanity is not lost

Life requires our own ground be rightly prepared
ignorance is the calamity so many are ensnared
We eat the dust long before we bake the bread
when we seek ease oft great sorrow we get instead

We plant our own seeds to dream to reap anew
yet we all pay, life is not free, tis so very true!

Robert Lindley, 10-01- 2014


note: Inspired by this morn's reading of Debbie Guzzi's 
super fine poem , a great sonnet -- The Sowing
I give thanks for this inspiration and the joy in reading 
both her sonnets this great morn. Certainly brought me
out of a slump and crazy haze these last few days..
Amazing how sometimes another poet can blow one away and change
 another's  entire attitude.


Details | Rhyme | |

LIFE IS LIKE A MAYPOLE

LIFE IS LIKE A MAYPOLE Outstretch above are blue skies and golden sunshine as train of threads is softly thug and braid to a pole. Behold, this sky high pole of bright crayon colors, they speak slowly about life in quite a number. . . Sturdy wooden pole standing high and tall is like a man endowed with wit and strength The lengthy colored ribbons children install are the shifting, rolling faces of life's events Black as night sometimes dawn in life, one maybe blue but not long, instead do stand and chase rainbows on green belt bend. Being a tickled pink to explore, never strife! See, how the color red blush as it dance in the wind so must we as we share love along kinship line we aren't all born with a green finger yet, each kindness touch, grin lingers! Shed that yellow-bellied skin to mingle without any charign. Our life is given by God in silver plate. Hence, let our daily goal be a red-letter day! If we do, earth and sky may wed of rapport like the ribbons together pulled and blend by hands of dancing children that mend... Raising the Maypole aloft with ribbon pour so is a lived life despite black and blues decor. As the threads slide smoothly in span of minutes we, humans, must climb to reach our full limits. The intertwining colors that fused, all roar salad differences of man can be sorted, united to be one. Screaming colors tickle lowly spirits' to fire daring man to live before his body will retire. . . Living life to the fullest before each setting sun! _____________________________________________________________ ©O.E. Guillermo 11:23 pm-- February 02, 2015 Sponsor: Seren Roberts Contest Name: Life is like a Maypole Placed 1st


Details | Free verse | |

I Want Not to Fade Away

My one burning wish -
I want not to fade away
like rotten lace, dumped
onto a trash heap and forgotten.

I want to leave myself behind, 
for those who come after
to inhale during breakfast.

Not money, like my mother,
who judged it to be the only thing
of worth she had to leave behind,
as though her love meant nothing,
as though her virtue didn't count.

A nonpareil pattern of motherhood,
of personhood for that matter,
written in permanent script,
propagated in layers of goodness,
flung onto her progeny
with the glue of infinity. 

As long as I live, so will she.
I want that, 
when it's my turn to go.




Details | Free verse | |

Dandilion

Youth..... Watch this girl... she has her eyes on a rising dandelion sprouted in high grass, a pensive girl, weaving her way through the fields, looking past weeds to her future, making her way through a maze of thistle solitude, on Saturday afternoons, down hallways and classes on Tuesday, teacher and stranger and parent expectation, she approaches a destination beyond home, clutching the flower to her budding breasts The Elder.... Keep your eyes on her... she is residue of the mute child, now entrusted with a knowing mind and well worn shoes, still clutching the flower to her breast... She peers through pages of old photos, scratching through scraps of half-heard conversation, seeking some color and clarity with a dim vision of the girl that held a prickly spine of a spent dandelion with compromise and resignation The Dead Unable to mouth a sound, I wish to warn each teacher, each mentor, each censor of the flame... I want to shout: "Watch this girl... who held a weightless flame of windswept dream in her eyes, making her way, mediating between her reality and every longing she ever had... Look back to this girl who has always maintained an unblinking gaze on the white star of dandelion in her hand" _____________________________________________ Carrie Richards 8) "One could not pluck a flower without troubling a star." Loren Eiseley


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

You Made The Stars Hush

You Made the Stars Hush A simple man was he, one child of ten, Who lived and worked the farm with family, But stardust fell on him…time and again He hid away to read his books to see What life could offer him and he give back, If he would leave the farm to chase his star With talents that would keep his dreams on track… And so he left to raise his future’s bar. Concerned for family for what he’d done… One son of three now gone, and only two Remained to work the land beneath the sun… But still he followed stardust trails anew. No school beyond eighth grade, he still pursued Production of the tube-based radio, In Nineteen-Thirty, when its parts were crude Yet intricate…and he became a pro. The stardust led him to a higher plane Whereby in time he owned a factory, Employed so many workers who would gain Good living in a time of poverty. Oh Dad, you hushed the stars…you did not fail, With inner strength you followed their bright glow, To choose this path that led you to prevail And help so many people live and grow. This gift of courage you have offered me To follow and make use of dreams to share, To let our stardust paths lead on to free The will to seek the best on our life’s stair. © Sandra M. Haight 2015 All Rights Reserved ~Honorable Mention~ Contest: How You Make the Stars Hush Sponsor: Justin Bordner Judged: 03/13/2015
.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow


The morning comes; all is still
as the sunbeams glisten through the curtains.
Another day.
I sweep my mind of night's unconscious bliss,
when life was momentarily free
from the pain of dreams unfulfilled and
the inability to cope.

Another day.
As my consciousness takes over,
the new day's plans unfold, and suddenly,
like a bolt of lightning,
new hope leaps into my heart.
This will be the day—
the day of accomplishment,
fulfillment, of peace with myself,
with those I love, with nature,
with my God.

I rise.
At once I'm caught up
in the trivialities that separate me
from my hopes and dreams.
The early morning thoughts get swallowed up
in the day's tedious routine.
I follow my plan as best I can...
But life can exist by plan just so far.
The day is full of side tracks—
uneventful little nothings that slip in between.
And the day goes on.
Time speeds by in its steady way,
never looking back or pausing—but going on,
an unmerciful enemy,
and my plans dissolve 
with the ticking of the clock.

Before I know it, it is too late.
The day is done; the quiet night sets in.
Yes, the night once again. The time to tally up.
Oh God, it has happened again.
It's been another day—
another day of little nothings.
Another day like yesterday,
and the one before, and before.
I didn't grasp the unattainable,
that moment of moments.

I lie in bed awake,
day's plans not even half completed.
A moment of failure, of self-pity.
What have I done today?
Worse still, what have I left undone?
Then that special night it came.
A time for reconciliation, an inner voice—
perhaps God's answer.

What is the matter with you?
Are you not alive and well?
Are you not loved, and do you not love in return?
Have you not helped someone today,
even in the smallest way?
Have you not made someone smile, or
perhaps comforted a child?
Have you not heard the song of a bird?
Or seen the beauty of a tree
swaying in the breeze?
Or felt the warmth of the sun, 
and the cool of the night against your skin?
Have you not watched any one of nature's
mystifying wonders at work?
Each one of these things is likened
to a miracle in itself.
Each one, a unique experience
of accomplishment 
and fulfillment.

Suddenly,
the importance of those little nothings
became magnified a thousand fold.
I came to realize a day is not an entity in itself,
but a building block of life,
each one of different weight and size,
depending on the kind of experience within,
and the little nothings,
the cement which holds it all together.

Today was not the same as yesterday.
It could never be the same,
no matter how trivial and uneventful
its moments seem to be.
Today is another building block,
different from the one beneath it.
Tomorrow is another day,
cemented to today by little acts of love
and giving of oneself;
by sharing and appreciating
the simple and wondrous
miracles of life.

Tomorrow is another day.
Despair is gone.
I am at peace with myself,
with the ones I love, with nature,
with my God.
Tomorrow is another day.

© Sandra M. Haight 2014 
   All Rights Reserved





Details | Quintain (English) | |

B-R-E-A-T-H - OF - L-O-V-E

B-R-E-A-T-H - OF - L-O-V-E Summer sun or winter freeze pulls heartstrings in trapeze. . . Cotton soft to gnarled callus vows have thread along my way embroidering ribbon actions to pliant swings of reactions like a darting fish thrilled to catch a passer-by knees. Two pairs of eye sew webs to bridge affection display, pines teeming green crown my arrested heart-- tachycardic I am... each time I hear your sound. Has breath of love tickled my nerves to interaction? Like a bee I'm drawn to your sweet ambiance 'round hoping by miracle it will birth me a fresh start. Scents that streams from bulbs swirl on wafting wind-- Ah! They all fell to shame for your breath of love tames. Once a rebel soul that long been thriving for satisfaction with breath of love that resuscitates, I mend my flame channeling muse to stroke the peak density of mind. Slender February breeze taunt my fingers to type rhymes that shy edge of reason. Eternally plunge in surrender I-- filled with breath of love ships my horizons to script stories in shades that lingers. . . ______________________________________________ © 12:31 pm, February 07, 2015


Details | Verse | |

SPRING REFULGENCE

                     Icicles on leaves and branches of trees
                         They begin to melt down bit by bit
                  Rays of sunlight appears, as winter cease
                 Freezing air fades, as glow of sun increase

                      Squirrels, rabbits run wild and free
                      Birds of various speed soaring high
                      Their mellifluous tweets, a melody
                      Piebald butterflies dancing merrily

                  Leafless, lifeless trees in healthy living
              Colorful buds of daffodils, magnolias around
        Their natural beauty, a wonder, stately astounding!
       Rain falls, softening the earth as new shoots abounds!

        Frozen grasses before, now stilled with energy light
            Blossoms as well, humbled with new beginning
                     Seeds scattered rises as in springs
           Snows  gone, as sun's refulgence a revering bright

03/03.2014
2:19 am


Details | Sijo | |

Burning Flame Of Life

Arise and fall; the cycle of life; birth and death are human plight. A life is lit and it burns short; when matches struck bring in discord. Flames burn dim or bright; many deny, their own bright light.


Details | Fibonacci | |

WHEN WISDOM WALKS

WHEN WISDOM WALKS Lies, shams, they cloud the truth's eyes. They seed buds of sin which unfolds to depravity, as they... can smother hope or stroke all lobes of the mind but if we let honesty spearheads our deeds then there we permitted wisdom to walk... ______________________________________________ Sponsor Rob Carmack Contest Name Fibonacci ==Placed 1st== O.E. Guillermo 12:32 pm, March 14, 2015


Details | Narrative | |

CITADEL AND CONSTELLATIONS

CITADEL AND CONSTELLATIONS The green leaves in rugged moans; The tall bushes in rumbling groans; The roofs train creaks-- their fugue blow cobwebs hugging branches below, such are precursors inviting darkness lair for stormy clouds before crowd the days. Yellow horizon seem unreachable honey as in my life's ocean, balloon billows I bear. I-- surged in every swell to skirt yet still lashing waves dashed pushing me sometimes to despair. Again, cataclysm walk unheralded casting loose my hands upon the glimmer of silver lining from afar somber shadows enshrouded me in a mist of struggles. Ounce of strength I have, I try to juggle and juggle yet, curses fell from hearts and lips parched of love. All these came, one and all -- the flowing light has flickered flash and gone but beyond all these you stood -- my sentinel. You hushed the bad constellations hanging 'round my world like a lighthouse guiding a lost ship to his home. Yes, you are my beacon, a promontory amidst the cyclic onslaught brambles and chameleons; a rock to cling in the wind's creeping fury, Staunch and firmly a hero fighting the torrential cascade of tirades and reproaches: MY CITADEL. . . ______________________________________________________________________ ©O. E. Guillermo 06:37 pm, February 24, 2015


Details | Verse | |

It's a New Year

It’s a New Year
venture into beguiling dreams, embrace sublime light and take flight… uncharted waters beckoning.


Details | Prose | |

The Reality Of Magic

Magic is everywhere, but stage magicians, have no clue, as to what it really is. Magic built our universe. That something so complex, as the universe, could be born of a few elements of pure…magic. That, intelligent organisms can grow, from carbon and evolve; that’s magic. A flower, bush or a tree, unfolding from a seed; that’s magic. Real magic; the nature of everything. An atom, cell, molecule of DNA…magic. The Visica Pisces in the seed of life, gives birth to the flower of life. Metatron’s cube is geometrical magic. That, all that exists, is composed of numbers; real magic. Ideas are born of, dream magic. Whole civilizations, are birthed into existence by… dream magic. Magical wonders, reflected in young eyes; stir the emotions and captivate the senses. Scientists…magicians…they’ve no idea, of how real magic works. The magic that creates all life, is beyond known physics; metaphysics and its comprehension’ lie in hidden realms, where human ego, blocks science from going. The real magicians; those who dare to cross the line, ego has drawn, are persecuted and maligned by colleagues. As magical history unfolds, wisdom is revealed. The same science that says: “humans use only one third of their brain capacity”; all too swiftly, negate the other two thirds. Society, self-limiting; minimizes its own knowledge; its own magical existence. Doubt is a game, played by fools; while belief, is the magical wonderland, of materializations; yet to manifest. What exists. in the imaginations magic hat…exists. Just wave the wand of belief and produce. Skeptitis, is an overwhelming malady. Its swollen tendrils, have kept the world in, stagnation; far too long. Belief is the only cure; the magic of faith, does move mountains.


Details | Sonnet | |

BLOSSOMS and BUBBLES - a collab with JA Fraser

BLOSSOMS and BUBBLES From aggregate supple stellar petals' smile, spring fragrance bubble spiral free in the air, their porcelain blossoms dash perfection flair; suitors bee, beguile the flower by buzzing style, the blooms' fingers rush to blushes beyond compare. Bard wind began to sing to serenade the buds in grins rosy petals breathe a gentle sigh, one long mile... Afar, some girls and boys see these Belles so rare-- they blow their dreams to root in land fertile. They hope like blossoms their dreams curve in peak though trials, struggles may round and round peep for soon as seasons rouse may their journey begin To the times their life drifts, avoiding not to weep These blossoms and bubbles psalm, wisdom speak ____________________________________________________ J.A. Fraser and O.E. Guillermo 9:37 pm, March 03, 2015


Details | Free verse | |

'Potential'


You can act like the world owe you everything Or you can go out there Take a deep breath And create your own magic Even sharing your smile is a catalyst When you don’t feel your worth Remember potential are packaged in different forms Step away from wanting to be what others think you should be And just be you Your worth and your potential is not determined by strangers It starts within
©145013032015


Details | ABC | |

There is a place

There is a place you can go that is full of only love and Warmth .
you will be surrounded by a light that shines from the Heavens ,
Sprinkles of Silver and Gold. 

This place is filled with brilliant colors of Purple , vibrant Gold, all colors.
not one Color is less significant then another ,
for every color is equal here .

This place is surrounded by the beauty of different Flowers.
All flowers have significance here . No one Flower is better then another .
All Flowers are equal here .

It is important you know , you can cry here , and should cry as often as needed .
For  the tears will cleanse your Soul and give the Flowers water to grow.
No  one Tear is insignificant here , every tear has value and not one is better then another .

 money holds no value ,  Where you live , what you own,  has no significance here .

You will be surrounded by a beautiful light that shines from the Heavens .
A shining warm light will encircle you and allow nothing to hurt you . 
Hate will be shed at the door light a old jacket of no use. 

There is a place of beauty and  Worth.
This place will not be found on Earth .
It is a place where no one person is better then another .


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


______________________________________________________________________
Placed 1st in "Unsung Hero" 7/2014 contest
Also 3rd. in "Portrait of a Poet" 1/2014 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Language Barrier

I couldn’t understand the language she spoke,

at least not all of it,

but the emotion pouring past her lips, 

the tears in her eyes, her clenched and shaking fists

enunciated more clearly,

than any piece of English Poetry I had ever read,

and grabbed me, held me still.

                   …In that moment, her soul was in my arms.

In that finite, tender breath of our lives,

she was my mother, my best friend…

but I could not console her. 

I didn’t have the words;

and my heart sank into the 

concrete between us,

wet with the pain of God’s rain

and her tears. 

                  …Were my tears

So, I simply opened my palms

toward her crouched form and 

spoke the only words I could 

fathom, that would be accepted

by a stranger on a dangerous street. 

"I am sorry, It will be okay. God will bless you."

I knew she did not understand…

"Lo siento" 

                  “que va a estar bien”    

                            “Dios te bendecira’ “ 

the words were as messy as the overturned

duffle bag at her feet…and fumbled, slowly

from my lips, as my knees hit the street.

Two strangers, cried in the rain,

knowing nothing of each other’s suffering,

and yet we shared the weight,

together, for those few moments;

the barrier of language was broken.

Love spoke for us.  

-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.

…Love transcends any language

               


Details | Rhyme | |

The Hypocritical Christian

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


Details | Ode | |

Just a Girl

Just a girl in a room, sitting on the floor,
I can see her in this window, but I see no door
Crying her song of anguish, of this unspeakable pain,
Has every intention never to feel it again
I rock, I tremble, my life is at cost
All I know is this shell, for it's myself...my core...my all I have lost

From the start I new this fight could only last so long,
I aimed to defeat it, striving to remain strong
Each day in and day out, facing the demon, fighting the doubt
At a moment with no warning, without any clue
I was losing my strength...my energy...all the will I once knew

For now, my all is lost, my memories are faint,
There is no pretty picture left for me to paint
This girl on the floor, in this empty room
Was this girl condemned for a life of doom

My tears disappeared, like they'd never been there
Dried up with my soul, the time is clear
Wanting to shake her, make her open her eyes
To show some hope, the blue is still in the skies

Then, out of nowhere, I found the door
I wanted to save the girl on the floor
As I neared and inched to her close
She wasn't that girl, what I saw was a ghost

As I turned to walk out, stopped by a noise
I heard the laughter of girls and of boys
With that came a voice of peace and of grace
She told me, she's happy, no-more demon for her to face

I am calmed, I'm reassured, I'm no longer in pain
She was the broken me, but now I am strong again


Details | Free verse | |

I Do Believe

"I Do Believe" 

The purpose of LIFE is to {Living In Faith Ever} 
to enrich God within us 
to an optimum level 
so that We as Humans 
can be guided by God 
to fuel out brothers and sisters 
with the same driving force 
to connect with the living God, 
to His existence and 
to See the Invisible, 
Believe the Incredible, and 
to Receive the Impossible 
to our everlasting journey 
to Heaven.

Rev. Samuel Mack
Copyright 2013

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