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Dedication Love Poems | Love Poems About Dedication

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

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Details | Free verse |

Kiss The Sky


Dropped some purple haze with Jimi -
we created castles out of polished beach glass,
then we fused with acid-laced clouds.

Kissed the sky
so high.

Jimi started bawling,
his torrential tears washed us down and out to sea.
Each drop of water became a pixel,
until reality morphed into a painting of musical notes,
and the music transformed back into a fresh reality.
There wasn't any more doubt
whether we were experienced now -- and how.

The tide washed us up into heavy crosstown traffic.
Jimi wandered down Voodoo Blvd,
I became a hoodoo child
gobbling up sugar cubes filled with liquid sunshine.
I watched the yellow cabs race by,
watched the heavy metal race by.

Jimi was jacked into electric ladyland,
his radiant smile, hiding pain
and covering other people's lies.
Even so, Jimi believed in his message,
sincerity set him apart from the crowd,
which is why he made sure
not to let his smile, wither and die.
But the more that his manager pushed,
the more that Jimi's pusher came....

Jimi was hypnotized by the flashbulbs of fame,
attempting to out-run a childhood filled with shame -
blowing out speaker stacks
with that twisted pedal magic,
spellbinding incantations
vibrated from his guitar,
making love to the sky with rainbow hues
of acid rock-induced rolling blues.

Jimi simply wanted someone to love him back
even half as much as he could,
for Jimi's love was honest and hard,
with wings waiting to be released
into a world not yet ready to be fully free.

Kissed the sky.

Kiss the sky
so high.









2013 "I Love You Like Sky" Remix
May 20th, 2013




+/-


Details | Free verse |

Money-God

Trust not in the words: "In God We Trust", printed on currency,
for God and Money should be kept separate,
unless one desires to tempt fate with the Money-God,
tempt fate by not over-turning the money-lenders' tables,
although many might argue how this isn't good for business.

Why not know the value of life,
instead of focusing too hard on the prices of Idols.

People are bleating at the prospect of "God" being removed
from money, arguing that if God is removed from money,
the grazing grounds will become Godless.

Godless? 
With or without the words, 
a Money-God is a God nonetheless.
There is at least one true God, 
whether man-made or not;
an authority of control,
a God of profit margins.
Violence is a profit margin.
Hatred is a profit margin.
Bullets, Amendments, and Death, are all profit margins.

The war being waged upon children, is a profit margin.

If I had been given the chance, 
I would have tried my best to take him out,
morphed the vapours of my remaining hatred into bullets,
or torn him apart with my hands.
To stop innocents from losing their innocence.
There are lines drawn in minds,
that if crossed over, stretch beyond the bristle-board of rehabilitation.
Even Clockwork Orange bleeds into crimson spatters.

When a child survives a massacre,
runs across his school field to find safety from a stranger,
proclaiming to the stranger, "I can't go back to my school, it isn't safe there.
My teacher was killed, I don't have a teacher anymore.
All of my friends are dead."....

....then innocence has been lost, and the Money-God is empowered even more.
Lost innocence spreads like a disease through the minds of global villagers.
Fear breeds fear, breeds control and disintegration of the Stream-Mind.

If I had been given the chance,
I would have fought fire with fire,
fed the beast within, 
taken him apart with a breath of hatred.
Breathed it out, pushed it out, purged it out.

Satan is a scapegoat used by people who are unwilling 
to take accountability for their actions and sacred responsibilities.
The Beast is humanity -
not marked by a fairy-tale Devil,
but instead marked by the Money-God created in the image of man;
recreating the image of man through fear.

Some people might be intrigued by how many definitions of God there are.
Even if money is a necessity,
within our core there should reside a different Kingdom -
without and within, within and without.

If I had been given the chance -- past tense....

....if I am given the chance,
I will try my best to take him out,
smudge him out
with the remaining hatred in my heart.
Breathe it out, push it out, purge it out,

until all that's left is to love,
until all that's left is to love.







December 14th, 2012 - S.H.E.S:  28 - 2 = 26




January 7th, 2013




.


Details | Terzanelle |

True Hearts Beating

Where will I be twenty years from today?
The World is moving at such a fast pace.
Will I still look at love the same way?

Will I be able to look at your face?
That is my heart's greatest desire.
The World is moving at such a fast pace.

Now when I'm with you my heart is on fire.
I wish for my soul to still burn for you.
That is my heart's greatest desire.

My eyes may grow dimmer I know that's true.
A love so beautiful will never fade.
I wish for my soul to still burn for you.

Even if my body to death is laid.
That will never stop my true heart's beating
A love so beautiful will never fade.

The world may be fast sometimes defeating.
That will never stop my true hearts beating.
Where will I be twenty years from today?
I'll still be looking at love the same way!

Valentines Contest


Details | Free verse |

Hermaphrodite - Part I


I wanted to write about how my doubts and fears
are simmering on the surface, how I am purging myself onto bleach,
to cleanse the grime staining what's left beneath.

And what's left, is love.

A romance for life, 
a nearly hopeless romantic who cannot always transfer it properly onto paper.
Not the pure essence of it all.
No, not in flowery lines - not a cheap, plastic bouquet
compared to my true emotions,
my dreams, my hope.

And of dreams, my love.

The blank sheet of paper seemed too beautiful to tarnish
with my plundering hooves;
to be torn apart with horns sharpened by the Earth,
piles of peat-moss smoldering from the lightning of my Heart.

If I take the leap, show you my dreams,
and in doing so, push you away with the nightmares that are intertwined,
I will understand,
love you nonetheless,
even though there is a part of me
that doesn't want to settle for less,
in an all                                      or nothing embrace.

I have been dreaming, 
dreaming of light,
visions of darkness, of black holes,
of the wondrous womb that bore me
as a winged wolf.

Yes, black holes and white holes to accompany the stars.

I place a pen upon the sheet of blank paper,
wondering if I can be real enough                 for us....


I.

The Evening Star, the Morning Star,
two halves of the same body,
the broken shards fuse, shine as One....

....wings unfurl, paws become talons,
I awaken in a dream, within a dream.

The words lodge themselves between my heart and hand,
so I roll up the blank sheet of paper into a tunnel,
a perfect circle to journey inside of.
Rolling out of my body,
I enter the tunnel,
following the Totems of this life and beyond.
There is a Wolf, Owl, Cardinal, and Starfish -
a part of me and something more,
an essence of Ladybugs, Ravens and Spiders.

In one end shines the Sun. It is I.
In the other end shines the Moon. It is you.
In the center, a crimson Cardinal alights upon an Evergreen branch,
before morphing into Seaweed brushing a red Starfish.
The Saltwater is my Blood,
Witch's Hats, 
Barnacles are my nipples
hardened by your Lunar tide.




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 | 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 | 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 | Ballad |

This Song is for my Mother

This song is for my mother
Let her hear me cry
I couldn’t bring myself to write it
‘Til this darkened day arrived
A song about old promises 
Made so long ago
Created and cremated
Ashes of the words I spoke

Long separated by the miles
Distanced from her golden smiles
Memory of a mother
Shared my dreams and really cared

Long separated by the miles
Distanced from her golden smiles
Mama…
I know I wasn’t there……

For you

Would have placed 
A magic carpet 
‘neath your weak and shaky legs

Would have raised
A strong west wind
Let you breathe with ease again

Would have bribed 
God’s venal angels
Come and soothe your endless pain

Would have vanquished
All the demons
And bring peace to you again

Be the child
I never knew
In a land
We won’t grow old

Be the light
I always loved
Warmed my dark 
And lonely soul

Be the girl
Playing games
In a world 
The sun won’t set

Be the laughter
Calms my heart
I never will forget
I won’t forget, won’t forget

This song is for my mother
Let her hear me cry
Couldn’t bring myself to write it
‘Til this darkened day arrived
Song about old promises 
Made so long ago
Created….cremated
Ashes of the words I spoke

I broke my promises, oh mama
Now you’ve gone away 
I’m broken
Drowning in the pain each day

I’m  drowning…drowning...drowning…drowning

This song is for my mother
Let her hear me…….



Details | Free verse |

Poet Destroyer-It will be ok

I know first hand the
pain in your heart,it
will be okay,soon you
can make a fresh start.

Your grandson Beal will
be watching over you,and
he knows everyday how
much you love him to.

Sometimes GOD does things
that we don't understand,
but he created your friends
to lend a helping hand.

Reach out to the people
that are here on the soup,
they help through hard times
and are a wonderful group.

There are to many to name
as this you know,
they will take you by the
hand and won't let go.

It will be okay and
soon you will see,
the new joy's in life
and how happy you'll be.

           You will get through this it just takes a little time.

                                                Love your poet friend,
                                                Colleen Marie Bono
                                                  April 11, 2013


Details | Prose Poetry |

When the Time is Right

For nearly 45 years I never spoke of  that day; the emotional pain was too great.
I simply hid it in the lining of my soul, knowing in my heart you didn’t stand
a chance with me as I stood in the rubble of my life and let you go, wrapped
in my heart with a wish and a prayer- all I had to give. And for 45 years, 
I dreamed of you and me playing in fields of daisies under blue skies as
I cried inside, wondering where you where, and if there was a part of you  
that somehow would remember me- would remember the bond we made 
in that single moment we shared together, when the nurse held you up to the
nursery window for me to see as I  stood on wobbly legs, with my trembling 
hands holding unto a pole with a dripping IV?

I prayed. Lord! How I prayed that someday, by the grace of  God, 
you’d come back to me when the time was right. 

So I lived my life. Got back up and crawled out of the rubble that was me, 
and lived with half a heart that somehow still managed to beat.

With the passing of  time, I bloomed; sometimes red, sometimes blue when I thought of all the years we could have shared as I sat and listened to family and friends 
tell me of the joyful times they shared with their children, grandchildren 
and great-grandchildren as, I  smiled and  cried inside and dreamed of you, 
and all the years of your life I  missed and, all the years I would never know. 
It was then I realized I was a very lonely soul. So, I wrote and wrote and
wrote, never suspecting for a moment that  nearly 45 years later,
you would find me through a poem I wrote for you.

I know I can never replace the mother and father who raised you, for the bonds
of time shared  are  much stronger than blood. Yet knowing what a wonderful 
women you turned out to be, beautiful, intelligent, compassionate  
and now with a daughter  of your own, is enough for me, and someday  
when the time is right for you, I hope and pray , we will meet again.

                                               ~~~~~~

                                                 Elaine George 


This is a true story.  It was through this forum ( poetrysoup ) my birth daughter found me. 



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