In solitude I dream tonight
And watch a moth in fevered flight.
It’s drawn toward my quaint porch light
And flies consumed with all its might.
Through open window I can see
Its desperation shared with me;
How freedom in this world is light—
And we as souls are drawn to fight.
Though freedom’s light may cause our death,
It’s worth the risk with every breath.
I understand the moth’s sad plight
When drawn to the glorious light.
Though it knows not of human trust,
It buzzes on because it must!
Can there be beauty in my toes,
Where stubbornly a fungus grows?
I never thought it could be true.
I try to hide it with my shoe.
Its purpose, not yet discovered—
I try hard to keep it covered.
From large toe to the next it spread,
And now I look at both with dread.
It wants to grow against the norm,
My toenail with misshapen form,
Knows the wild ways it wants to grow,
And now it has a mate in tow!
I’ve vowed to make a sacred oath
To kill this hated fungal growth,
But I now see the beauty of
My wayward toes denied of love
Are like the people we might hate
And I’ve learned to appreciate
Diversity against the norm,
Well taught to me through my toes’ form;
That each of us must be unique,
And there’s the beauty that I seek!
As my fungal toe and its mate,
Which I condemned as reprobate,
Conceals within their ugly form,
Their freedom’s right against the norm!
For Hidden Beauty Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Rhonda Johnson-Saunders
I found the bottle lying on a dune of wind-swept sand,
And I brushed the grains upon it with a weak and trembling hand,
I was crazy-mad for water, I was more than three days dry,
So I pulled the cork with sand fouled teeth and spat it at the sky.
What came out wasn't water, it tasted more like smoke,
So I thought myself the victim of some fools cruel joke.
Then standing there before me, like a Muslim houri dressed,
Was a damsel more than beautiful, who my flaking face caressed.
She said "you've given me my freedom from my prison of the ages.
So I offer wishes numbering three as payment of your wages."
I knew what I desired, I knew what to wish for first,
I said "give drink to all upon this world who now suffer thirst.
But give those thirsty, a love of fellow, more than words upon the lip.
So they offer the bottle to a brother, before they take a sip.
And give those brethren gratitude, to kneel before they swallow
And thank whatevever God they serve for allowing them to follow."
When this was said I realised, my wishes all were spent,
Which was what I knew I'd wanted, from my first intent.
She said "o man, I see you're one, whom God has truly blessed,
So take a drink of water, and lay thee down to rest.
I grant thee freedom from jealousy, from earthly want, from sin.
Accept these gifts as tribute from an Effete of the Green Djinn."
My reason for wishing as I did, to this day seems to flee me,
But nightly as I slumber well, I still dream of Genie.
God has a plan,
And it is out of my hands.
Far as the Politics and this is my voice
Medical Marijuana is the right choice
Even though that road is no longer for me
It serves a purpose and that’s clear to see
Convicts are growers as it thins out the pen
Offering the players a game they can win
It’s true; home invasions may be on the rise
As smoke from the pot fills up our skies
Children of growers will grow up and use
Trying hard to fill up their parent’s shoes
We work, pay taxes, they rake in the cash
Everybody’s looking for some kind of stash
My stash is my daughter she is also my pride
From her there are no actions I would ever hide
There are two little feet that are following me
Eyes as beautiful and innocent as two eyes can be
Those eyes look at me like I’m Robert De Niro
I’m not just her daddy I’m that little girls hero
Because, I made the changes a man makes in life
I made them for my children and also my wife
I’m at the top of my class and like it or not
I wouldn’t be here, sitting around smoking pot
The Lord is my Shepherd my wife is my friend
Each lets me know there are rules I can’t bend
I talked it over with the Lord and my wife
Everything bad comes with that way life
We no longer choose to wear addicts shoes
But you be our guest go right ahead and use
I bear no animosity I will hold no grudge
I may be a Christian but I am no Judge
Aside from all the Politics this is my voice
I know growing pot is not the right choice
Medical Marijuana is an issue that I have
friends on each side of the table. I think
each side has many valid points. i think
it's an issue that will never be resolved
because the two sides see things very
differently. I have far to much to live
for to sit around high. But then again,
who am I to judge.
A heritage no man can sell,
a history no man can tell;
so much we share in Jesus' band,
nothing to fear, in storms we stand.
To lordly things we are kindred,
mansions of gold, pure and sacred;
to endless beam, to saintly streams,
to heaven's gaze and holy hymns.
Our dreams are shaped eternaly
by faith and love in God's alley;
no baser thought our spirit fills,
as we approach heavenly hills.
We who are born of Christ Jesus,
Hallelujah is our chorus;
pilgrims we are, on earth we roam,
yet pressing on to our glorious home.
Blessed with ingenuity, he fought advancing tyranny
That stormed the sea in twenty-three great warships sailing furiously.
That day, October twenty-first, saw Admiral Nelson at his worst,
As cannons roared, while gunners cursed. The times were changed, the tides reversed.
Lord Nelson, as an admiral brave with all his fleet defied the grave,
His native land and king to save:-- his life for freedom's cause he gave.
In but a half a dozen hours he humbled Europe's finest pow'rs,
And toppled Tyranny's highest tow'rs; yet Vict'ry found him crowned with flow'rs,
And not a place the crown to lay, on him, nor all who died that day
In sending Britain's foes away, across the stormy seas of grey.
They pollute our waters, the land, the air
They pollute the planet without a care
They kill our friends from down below
As they swim up to say hello
They build weapons to kill each other
They don't respect each race or colour
They try to hunt us in every way
But they cannot find our hideaway
We'll never surface because we fear
We cannot trust the humans here
by Ana Espinola Collins
Slowly breathing with a steady beat
Boots are crunching you feel the heat
You inch on closer, looking around
Watching your friends make not a sound
You have been told to kill this man
A threat he is to freedoms plan
Hold up your rifle, take careful aim
Let go of the guilt your not to blame
Orders you follow a good soldier you are
Try not to think the size of the scar
That this order will bring deep in your soul
We raise the flag on top of this soldier's hole
I will give support, I will lend my hand
So you can brother, continue to stand
To fight for the freedoms of people everywhere
Down your rifle I, with you, shall stare
Copyright © 2013
Politicians' greed seems to hover
Over our lives, a simmering cover
Separation of Church and State?
Satan planned mankind's fate
As in the days of Noah, sin did hover
Over their land like locusts do cover
The faithful do not fret what is hovering
By HIS Blood, the Lord is still covering
Our leaders refuse to make a deal
When enthralled by Satan's Will
Politics, and selfish greed
Failing our Nation's need
Obama-Care, a change that's fair
Or, struggling against Satan's lair?
But, ye faithful remember the heavens hover
Till horns blow clearing clouds that do cover.
edited: 6 Aug 2013 - 8:22pm
25 Sep 2013 - 8:13pm
His back meets the cold, wet grass under him,
his eyes meet the blue endless sky hovering over him.
The cigarette from his hand dies out as it meets the sopping grass below
He feels the blood escape his body that now is no longer whole.
As he stares up into the sky,
he thinks of the girl he hated to leave behind.
He thinks of his mother, her tears streaming down,
his father’s proud hand, as it strongly grazed his crown.
He thinks of the men fighting for their life,
He thinks of his enemy, ducking for his life.
He thinks of the reasons war even exists,
Maybe this isn’t the way one should even live.
The sounds of his men approaching feels distant in his ear,
the struggle to save a life is unyielding,
when the bullet cuts through the heart,
there is no weaker feeling.
Slowly the sounds of planes hushes down,
The sounds of gunfire are stifled,
The missiles whistling in the background stop
and all of nature’s sounds just suppress, as they come to a halt.
The men become blurry as his eyes start to freeze,
The body that once fought, now turned to solid ice.
For the last time in his life,
he thinks of the girl he wishes he never left behind.
He thinks of his mother, whose tears will continue to run,
the father’s proud hand, that wont ever touch his son.
In these last few seconds, he does not feel scared,
as he spent this life fighting strongly for his homeland.
When life’s traffic yearns for wanton climb,
I unleash as a gypsy of summertime.
What Makes You Tick Contest: Serene Roberts
by nette onclaud
Moon dancer, in your petticoats, swirling on the lawn,
dewdrop drinker, night wind stalker, daughter of the dawn.
Castanets coil your fingers, diamonds drape your toes;
not equal, but greater, if with normal juxtaposed.
Beautifully different, a gypsy sort of soul,
one, who out of nothing, music can cajole.
Lightly stepping, ever reaching, walking upon air;
if searching, one will find you climbing heaven's stair.
Don't let the stale world change you; continue to pursue
your dreamy fabrication--living impromptu.
September 28, 2014
You do not need the gods to be great,
feast not on the seeds of false fate.
Soar to the skies, sit at the shore of destiny,
tomorrow belongs to hope and harmony:
harmony of faith in the field of fears
and trust in the terrain of terrible tears.
Let us woo wisdom in a world of worries,
tommorow is a mansion of mysteries.
You do not need the gods to be great,
treasure each moment, tomorrow will wait.
Sit not on life's throne of thraldom,
we are slaves sold to the fold of freedom.
Bitter is the root of reality, taste the truth;
life will bow down to a dogged youth.
We do not need the gods to be great,
cowards are people without a common plate.
Where love is lost, life is imprisoned;
wars of woes will get salted and seasoned.
Look not behind, it is the hall of history,
before you lies the mountain of mystery.
Look not around, it is decked with distraction;
look within and plunge into the pool of passion.
The gods are dead,
they know not what lies ahead.
Ask not for rain when there are no seeds,
feed not your fate with dead deeds.
Everything in this world deserves a chance to live,
but in the real world some would rather take then give.
GIVE PEACE A CHANCE
Too many innocent angels have been taken away,
then more innocent are left to wonder why and pray.
GIVE PEACE A CHANCE
What makes some people think they are better then me,
God created us all equal and his son set us free.
GIVE PEACE A CHANCE
Children are killing children there is no excuse,
and it is never right to say I win,you lose.
GIVE PEACE A CHANCE
We will never understand the evil that we see,
when there is no difference between you and me.
GIVE PEACE A CHANCE
I pray that one day we can dance the same dance,
but until that day comes,
GIVE PEACE A CHANCE
written June 10,2013 for Give Peace a Chance contest
Salutations Soupers! I am told this is not a political forum.
Why is my poetry-poesy in decorum?
April 18, 2014
Single Couplet End Rhyme
written 28th sept 2007
It's time to turn this around
the answers I have finally found
The minute I looked into your eyes
I immediately remembered, how to be alive
If I didnt go through, all those years of pain
my life wouldn't be the same
Your birth, nothing less than magical, complete power of God's love....
For you shone through complete demonic darkness
ever since, I have been more than blessed
you re-opened my heart
So I could again, play the part
I've been given a second chance
This time round, I wont forget to dance
to love, open and freely
Its finally great to again be me
I've turned my frown upside down
And it's from God's gift, when pure innocence was born
my sixth child, a blessed tiny little girl
Is our American Nation, now the new frontier
by accepting All People that seek work and life here
I understand technology has shrunken this world
Did the Rights of Citizens shrink, as our flag unfurled
It seems that the loudest voices that you hear today
All cater to self interest, while trying to lead America astray
"We the People" does it still mean Citizens have the Voice
To decide what is best for America, We The People Make The Choice
When big money and interests from outside these states
Try to dictate Our Future, by buying people to act as mates
Remember the words shouted by Paul Revere on his ride
Listen to the cries from our ancestors as they seek to divide
When limits are the only solutions and if bans become fact
Citizens think for yourself, what you lose, and judge the impact
If our States Rights are limited, to a path by government as planned
It's our ancestors battles, blood and voices that put a vote in your hand
We can Teach All The Children of whats right and whats wrong
To pray, Trust in God, the value of family and how to belong
We have been leaving teaching to others to seek and accumulate wealth
Without thinking coins can't buy an Angel or protect children's mental health
Their are so many different answers That We All Need To Discuss,
so cut those puppet strings, start thinking, instead of riding the bus
Reflection of a past is lingering in mind
Illegal was religion and Gods were not so kind
So THEY demolished faith, put Churches upside down
and built a monster palace for a self-elected clown
As I kneel softly, slowly, on rootless Nature's beauty
To quench my thirst for Freedom hindsight's my heart's duty
To pray for souls of parents as they rest on roots of love
I clean my face with water, drink Freedom like a dove...
my horse runs freely wild my curls run like a river's child into mad battle run arror spear gun through his shirt blood did not run until they came for the Gold hills to run his horse once more freely to fulfill as by his own blood his runs betrayed a spirit quenched by a greedy stave
Everytime i think i am hiding
hiding from experience
the thought flow forever blinding
captive in its omnipresence
certain paths have no finding
beware of any convergence
a rigid view forever binding.
Seek to witness truth in beauty
witness the beauty in truth
a bite of apple can prove fruity
each natural chunk holds proof
change perception alter reality
experience the magnitude of truth
don’t assert the definition of congeniality.
I was thinking about liberty this past Memorial Day,
How the freedom won by others is here for us to stay.
It wasn't just the stroke of a pen that made men free,
But the hard and difficult sacrifices, that gave us Liberty.
We broke the allegiance to a king so far away,
Pulled together as a nation, that has survived until today.
We've fought against our own brothers to make slavery die,
We still are healing from those wounds, with every racial cry.
Like other nations bent on their empire's expanse,
We have fought to that tune and made other men dance.
But our stance has been true though all the horrors,
Especially when we sent our boys to the "War To End All Wars".
The world thought it worked and it did for awhile,
But tyranny and evils will not end with only a smile.
Another generation of men to freedom's call,
And the flag with 48 stars then, was needed by all.
Even after the victories we had an uphill fight,
The evils among us would not take flight.
So Freedom and Liberty have to be won each day,
By those who survive the battle's fray.
Not only the soldier is in that battle you know,
Each one of us, has that same burden to tow.
For if we are to remain free in this great land,
"Liberty and Justice for ALL" must go hand in hand.
When we know of wrong being done,
It is our duty to help, as Freedom's citizen.
Not just with lip service which continues despair,
But get in the trenches, and Liberty repair.
It is the hard won fight that brought us this far,
The hard won victories of goodness and care.
Have we forgotten who we are and from whenst we came?
The words of "Freedom and Liberty" would not be the same.
Except that a few men had the willingness to forego,
Their fortunes, their lives, and to their posterity bestow.
That Freedom and Liberty should come to all in this land,
Can we do less, to keep to their plan?
Someone once said, "It's not easy being me."
It is harder still to live in the land of the Free.
Where we enjoy our Liberty and Freedom to choose,
Yet, how often have we let it be abused?
Vote...if you want to keep your Liberty,
Vote...if you want your children to be Free.
It is in our right to vote that we have won this prize,
Do not let its light be dimmed by "I don't need to..." sighs.
For men the world over have we sent our own to save,
For Freedom and Liberty - and The Home of The Brave!
The sound of true light ringing in your ears nothing to fear from the reapers that are here Not superstitious but for whom it tolls is true listen clearly and then you will see too Angels singing like the cricket's melody Glory to God in the highest a symphony Peace on earth good will towards men Piercing to the joints and marrow the Amen word's that formed you and I from on high in the valley of decision let them come nigh
I PURSUE MY BLESSINGS
On this voyage that I travel, I seek.
Treasure is to be found by me.
Many miles away I must go
to fulfill my soul.
This journey I have chosen will end soon.
I will treasure the memory the knowledge found.
Many miles away I must go
to fulfill souls.
I am not tripping because I am expeditious.
The crossing I chance is for riches.
Many miles away I must go
I have trek in South Africa.
I roamed in the West Indies, etc...
Many miles away I must go
I wandered far and wide.
I found a life fortified.
To flaunt the blessings I have found.
Equipped to conquer more, I am satisfied, thus far.
Many miles away I ponder.
My rewards are humongous.
The world knows.
Wealth is shown.
Many miles away I treasure hunt.
A job well done!
Sponsor: Roger Horsch
Contest Name: Many Miles Away
Entry Date: March 29, 2014
Date Written: March 29. 2014
Motif: Many miles away
I would never write poetry to compete.
I write poetry to express me.
An infinite touch of heavenly love in the spirit of freedom we find,
lighting the way for the coming day is a blessing like no other kind...
Love is our guide with freedom we strive never give up on the drive,
Whether pain or pleasure poverty or treasure love is just being alive...
Never let go of compassionate ways through all of these heartfelt days,
embrace toward freedom's emotional rescue reflecting upon loves rays...
Those perfect rays of our loved ones that we will forever hold dearly tight,
With all of their beautiful faces throughout this freedom's flight...
Drops of sweat slip from my furrowed brow
Eyes squint, select a number and let fly now
Miss again, a millimetre is a mile once more
Aimed for triple twenty, only got double four
The walk of shame, my oh so familiar friend
Silence broken, on alcohol I forever depend
The steel point of eyes bore into my neck
My opponent leaves me a juddering wreck
I lose the match; the wife won’t give me a kiss
I wish I could have been anything else than this...
My Ode to the Netherlands
White water lilies picked for Verlena in Friesland.
The Dutch Republic is over a century old.
We are there during autumn.
Flowers are everywhere.
The sunflower fields
Yellow and brown profound the canvas
To visit the Domtower is a climb.
Utrecht is a trek.
An ode comes to mind…
Dutch greetings we say…
Dutch greetings we say,
in the land of Friesland today.
Our home is our joy.
We are logical people and not emotional.
We are expressive in our thoughts.
Call us opinionates, if you want.
Dutch greetings we say to all!
Sponsor: Elly Wouterse
Contest Name: Your ode to 'my' Netherlands and/or 'my' Friesland
Date of Entry: March 29, 2014
Date Written: March 29, 2014
~Elly, happy birthday... This is two forms in one poem. The couplet and the irregular ode.
Best wishes and hopefully, this is not to much.~:)s
The yo-yo player set it off, it is spinning on its length
He knew it was his skill his talent and his strength.
To let the yo-yo go with a flick of his wrist
If he had done it right it would run and then twist.
It would spin and roll away as far it could
But on its return it would come back to him or should.
No matter where it went he had a firm loving hold
The yo-yo was spinning but doing what it is told.
It has the freedom to turn roll and to spin
Because of that freedom it will return to him.
The flick as it goes sends it spinning so fast
But returns to the hand that it left last.
He can flick he can pull and he can really let it go
But he is a master and it will return from each throw.
He has loved he has learnt it through pain and tears
The spinning yo-yo he sent off will return there’s no fear.
Your words became the thread that strung
the stars in skies so blue.
That represent the fifty states
of Muslim Christian Jew.
Your thoughts recorded secretly
in a cozy nook of night.
Are heartfelt for the victims
these represent the white.
Your hearts that grieved in unison
for an unknown toll of dead.
Beat sad but proud in every chest
and they became the red.
That flag they raised amid the ruins
The red the white the blue.
A symbol of eternal hope
Was planted there by you.