Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

CreationEarth Nature Photos

Epic Metaphor Poems | Epic Poems About Metaphor

These Epic Metaphor poems are examples of Epic poems about Metaphor. These are the best examples of Epic Metaphor poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Free verse | |

Quarantine of the Soul

-Quarantine of the Soul-

Tranquil pills fall deep like the night
A sweet fangless course
Bites with no remorse
Your eyes struggle to read my ageless soul
You open a heart under Quarantine 
The past
The present
The future
Stand in the way of what was and never will be
A contagious disease
I call "LOVE!"

(Past-- you came)
Somewhere deep inside --with you--
The Maverick 
The Majestic
The Arriving Vessel of Light
I separated myself from the world
 --to be with you--
I polished a new diamond night
With pleasures of meeting where our hearts began
Deep like the night, you woke my sleepless soul
Removing it from the safe harbor of the sea
-Isolated from all to see
No risk or chance, of smiling endlessly 

(Present-- you set)
Tonight you fell from Mandalay
You spoke in a way that Cut my throat with truth 
You detained my ego clouding the auspices sky
Allowing a smile
A tender peek into your heart
It spread in ways -- I wanted more 
I kept deep until you found your way past the door
Persistent memories 
In search of eternity
Tonight lets learn to live again
With no fear, I remove all labels
Making the moon and sun rise together
My love, my life now depends on you

(Future-- you left)
With no explanation
The age of Quarantine will forever set

You came to me
Set me free
Just to leave 

Now you are a virus --- Just like them!!!

By: PD

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

Devils Deadly Dime

Devils deadly dime

The sign said no grown-up at the playground.
Tripping on a penny, like a mime!
My hand is in my pocket with the dime I found.
Its all mine, I asked for the devils hand that time.
Echoes in my head, bounded by a screaming sound.
Paying for a forgotten crime,
on what comes around goes around.

A prison with greed that carries an evil musical chime.
Jumping off the merry-go-round!
Encouraged by the devil,
 the pleasure of his deadly nursery rhyme. 
Now the world is measured by my blood level.

The devils delight feasted on my youth before I hit my prime.
Bashing my mind, with thoughts implanted by evil.
Entering the day with no beauty to my sublime.
Begging him to remove this anvil!

He laughed while he cursed me with a favor for a favor.
A fallout so violently in this world not civil.
One can only lust on the taste that only he can savor.
Hanging out  by the swings wounding me with prey,
on two victims to his delicious flavor.
I climb my way to teach a lesson in hate not love.
Two siblings who always scream for each other.
Giggling as I offered each a push and a shove.
Stopping they give each other a big hug.
Defeating and proving love is a stronger disease
The devil wicked eyes looking  at me like a bug.
Clawing at my inner guts with remorse that he will win this war.
Until another day one skips the penny, 
and begs a poor fool like the devil for his dime.
Tossing heads for his tail when times hits rock bottom.
I will stray away from his deadly reaction time.
He will not own my soul so freak'em,
and his greedy deadly beg of a dime.


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A

Details | Lyric | |

A poem for YOU

In this world of Uncertainties I’m the man that you can trust And in my words of sincerity That my love would never last. And if you could only feel, what i feel for you You can ask me “why?” so you can see the truth Like our love that tightens the rope, Like a light that would give us hope. As you watch the dark skies Let me grab the moon for you, And as I catch the bright stars That’s the way you can see me through As this planet turns as it always will And things go wrong and you don’t know what to feel Hold my hand for it will make us strong Like a wind, we will carry on The wind blow that sings a hymn for you For they know what does love means for the two Love is blind, and not deaf So how’s success if you’re not ready to bet? In this poem with full of rhymes, A full of love, Babe can you be mine? I don’t expect too much from you Why should I? If you complete my whole. “Till death do us part” that’s what they have said But why do struggles crash them ahead? Don’t ask me when my love will last, To count all of our quarrels, is that a must? Now and Forever is all that I promise No day dreaming and without reminiscence As the matter of time, as the time passes by Together we stand, together you and I
A poem for my Girlfriend for our anniversary :) pls comment and rate... you are free to judge and criticize my work :) God Bless

Copyright © Emmanuel Fajutagana

Details | Alliteration | |


The days seem to go by so fast. there is a void in the air, the birds have lost their vibrant beat, the ocean has lost its luster, the soil feels solid and dry.
My soul feels as if it has left my body before my death, my dreams haunt my day, the tears stain my steps, my doctor says that it is depression, I say that it is reality, I am intoxicated by society,I am numb by perscriptions.
Why do I feel so isolated within myself? is there no one in my painfully tight shoes? can anyone understand my pain? can anyone melt in my sorrows? why am I this way? why is the world so cruel? why can't I be normal?
Wait! I am normal, what am I saying, I know now, the veil has been lifted, humanity is my enemy, the sins that drip from their sweat, the dread that follows their shadows, their souls of black, their intentions of greed pull a shade across their eyes.
They are destined for doom, they will not be saved, they will not find salvation, they belittle me, they curse me, they shame me, but they are right about one thing, I am different, unlike them, I will be saved in the last days.

Copyright © stephanie hanvey

Details | Free verse | |

Moments In Time

The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark

The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been 
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark. 

Copyright © John Paluszek

Details | Epic | |

The Uncertian future pt 1

  I would rather be a hammer than a nail. "Yes i would, if I could, out
in the open ocean," would I sail.
If I could, and if I should ! I will not take for granted the physical view of
seeing my mother working herself singlehandily and instill in us the mentality
of endurence that is not to be_______"Misunderstood.."
"If I could, and had I my wings to fly !"  "{for} then I would go somewhere re-
pudated where there is no crime against humanity." My wings to fly, amidst the
yonders on high, and I got into a conversation with the great wise owl. And I ask..
...oh yes-would I, "O'Wise Owl, would you care to tell me...will this bread of (poverty)
be enough to feed my family!"  "I would if I could, is his reply-as he stares out be-
yond the massive blue sky..."Alone this is not the essence of a happy home, but the
everlasting word of knowledge is the fruit of endurence, and God's present in your
life is how feed the Multitudes and recieve the fulness of my seed."  "O'Great Owl..
...I must obey, and then he up's and flies away....(!!!).."
  I rather to have been the diamond than the pearl, if I could, I surily will make the
wealthy pay their share of taxes, and then perhaps it just might be enough to help
feed the hungry childrens of the world.  So, in this divertsified world in which (we) all
live day too day, and play the game of life as if it shall lead us as a metaphor society
to knock on wood.
I rather be in Heaven than in jail if I could, I surily would because I do care, 

Copyright © John Streeter

Details | Free verse | |

To Eden Part I

What pushes my pen in this whimsical notch of the world?

   Something whispers to me like an elder dream....
   and the trees hang arbored 'oer a little stream of sea,

   the feathered folk flit and flute,

   and sip the may-season rill;

Where sun has finally come dipping like a diamond.....

   I am measured to this mighty moment found;

   and there is holly even in the most forgotten shade,

   though royal (even) ----- with garland diadems made 

It would seem the angels have foretold this:

   to not forget the most beauteous of days;

   with proud hours honeyed, 

   the long-loving minute endures in thy heart,

   and remembers the kiss of legends

   despite realms of sadness and dark,

   the withered wind which blows old upon the sad hills....

   too ancient for wise men; for in youth how pink the heart

   and varied, new struggles are many -----

   yet plain with simple solutions

Mercy hath not a mind for memory....

   swift its song, its house clean of enemies lurking,

   no bogey-man skulking the midnite hour,

   no roving-a-wraith scratching the old attic boards;

Forgiveness sleeps in the quiet wood, 

   and wakes with whispers of faith,

   with the ease of nestled lambs and recollected days;

What poor tragedy to fret with dark remembrance,

   to furl hades in the denizens of thy heart ----

   black-tongued as the devil in his den!

What fool would prefer a scowl to a smile?

   enemies come and go.....

   friends come and remain,

   when the house is quiet with memories....

   of youth and adventure in the old daydream glass;

   more precious the ancient hours 

   and parched the pages of first chapters,

   first beginnings, first faces in the ripples of time's pond;

Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt

Details | Epic | |


Breathe seductive it touches my superstition craving your instincts I cant speak in 
of isolation cradle your serenity with manipulated premonitions motives of 
abandoned by stray inspiration a metaphor that leaves us vulnerable and 
yet victorious. Aroused by fascinations of pleasure captivated by hypnotized 
obsession torn by September rain, revive those trembling confessions drenched 
see past the disguise and offer a solution with passionate eyes. Tame the dahlia 
redemption the want is savage the thrill is the remedy over take this creation and 
agony do the impossible and please me after so many shouts of blasphemy. 
Serpent of 
emptiness I surrender in your mist secrets will be kept at this alter emotional 
set in 
versus verboten.

Copyright © Cole Beck

Details | Free verse | |

Generic Minds

generic minds listen to generic music
have generic thoughts that are unknowingly abusive
watch generic things talk about generic things
gee this generic *****is spreading like a disease
better get your flu shot 
thats what they said to me
a suicidal vaccine 
a subliminal killing spree
its contagious and the outrageous
thing about it is that the people are blind in an eye
that they didn't even know they had
it's sickening to watch these clueless civilians 
inside the looking glass
with nightmares of being free
without a key to their mind
for it is trapped in the frequency
in the illusion of time
bathed in our universe
killing all that refuse to see
those that admit to hypocracy
or see the message in hip hop
how cant you see
the message in the lyrics that
bring adolescents to their knees
from bullet wounds conflicting their flesh
contradicting that they're the best
but the songs keep telling them that they dont need no rest
that they dont wanna go home
that they should ride alone
with the gat as their only companion
and so the only path they choose is the one that they're told
until they grow old and hope turns to a window pane
inside a window pane, until all they feel is pain
they realize that the music itself is ashamed
so whats to look up to
when you cant even speak when you cant even walk because you look so bleak
your eyes are sunken from the tv you're infested with the dee zees
now its too late to turn around and live for your conscious
so when youre screaming oh please
close your eyes and bring your mind to life
open your eyes for the first time
and never wonder why
since the answer this entire time
has been inside
and you better find it before you die
you dont want your soul to be in a pool with all the others
a buncha brothers missing their mothers
but only seeing strangers
only feeling the haters
wishing they would have used their minds when they had them
and now its too late,
now it's time for another new born fate to grab them

Copyright © Green Trees

Details | Haiku | |

The Internet: Return

A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...

Copyright © Dan Keir

Details | Dramatic monologue | |



In the naked eye,
Pure death approaches!

Incredibly hollow, kick the bucket long ago
No, whiff nor smell when “THE GHOST” is around
Abuses the whiteness, in which exists inside these sheets
It can be the cost and the intellect of your overdose in question
Go ahead and dig your own grave
I have already commissioned your headstone
You won’t be remembered,
The aftermath this GHOST creates 
---will leave you babbling, even in your crate
This is that whiteness you do not want to feel or taste.

Once he or she was a nobody, is now “The Infamous Ghost!”
The one that lives inside your ‘Indian Hollow Walls.’
The Ghost’ leaves heat behind in your room.
It prowls around, 
---leaving you within a near death experience every night.

This' ghost left behind will wreak mayhem on your soul,
Shh!  Listen to your walls, they speak quite a routine.  
Once you see yourself with broken wind, and watery eyes. 
Do not believe this is your maker in the process.
‘The Ghost’ with eyes so potent compels a numbing stare!

If there really is such a thing as reincarnation,
Then you had better remember
--- that this ghost was a ghost in its own past life
‘The Ghost’ can have you breathing out tears so intense
Leveling your entire room with fear
Not even your frightened watery eyes will salvage your soul
Nothing will come in handy before you expire.
‘The Ghost’ will incinerate your obituary.

“There is nothing to Fear but Fear itself! “By Franklin D. Roosevelt!”
That, and the fear is all this fearless 'Ghost will leave behind.
 Everlasting rational fear.

-Happy Halloween- 

Copyright © SKAT A

Details | Imagism | |


A MOTH, A PORCH LIGHT, ALONE IN AN OPEN WINDOW--- Owning up to his shortfalls may be his most difficult task. Tomorrow mirrors that reflection. In thought, he begins his introspection. Standing looking out the open window, a moth distracted his attention. He turned on the porch light thinking about how he was always alone. He did not know why he kept the window open all night. His analysis found he feared the unknown. “May I concentrate in a philosophical mode? Winter is coming fast and I do not want to be out in the rigid cold. Sometimes I wonder why my mind has grown old.” Larry had been a recluse for the last ten (10) years or so. He was a nature walker and he wrote poems. He was an electrician by trade and skilled in masonry. He had designed beautiful architect. His hands provided him an inventor’s intelligence. However, Larry was always down. He did not see the open window he looked out. He felt that the doors had closed. That he had lost his stance in the world. Therefore, he caught moths in a jar and watched them wanting freedom to fly. As he stood on the porch alone, a spirit appeared standing in his open window. The moths were attracted to the light. He fanned a moth away from his eyes. Therein, he felt his eyes were deceiving him; therefore, he looks toward the open window once again. A noise he hears. He wakes up wet. His night fever was on. He was a pallor of fits. His sleeping had embraced his condition and the clatter had awaken him within. His demented state of being demeaned. He reminisced. He ruminated the moth while standing under his porch light alone but in his open window stood a pack of coyotes. |_________________________________________________________________| Penned on November 01, 2014!

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker

Details | Verse | |


If there ever was a time in the history of human, It is now that one’s being is bound to civic duty impost. He or she is a loyal citizen of his or her nation. Intensified is the fortress bond of armory and strength. Through our faith and courage, our minds and our heart have engaged vigor. Dynamism is diversification via structure. What is seen is statement beyond repose via strategy. As we discuss the militant way, we centralize our thoughts To suffrage in other nations against dogmatic methods. Systemically approached the right to vote interposed by Illegality of the election booth intervened by Bribes and other means to destroy equability. What is seen is statement beyond repose via strategy. Impartiality is an assured plus of unanimous. Political leaders aboard focus on a suppressed nation Through their views on enslavement and incapacitate. For sure, this is the Putin’s views of the Ukraine orders retain. To incarcerate through tenets of rapaciousness is cruel. Therefore, what is seen is only a system of beliefs. The Ukrainians must remain free to be at liberty. ______________________________________| Verlena S. Walker Penned on October 02, 2014! Form: Decapentasyllabic Verse

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker

Details | Rhyme | |


What is a fight without a cause? Is it just a hidden affair that has no voice? Only knowledge that cannot be divulged and when discussed, the topic is irrelevant. Mentality is a place of iniquity. Mediums are designed by civil engineers to place mentally captured vestibules; those, which will manifest identities. You can hear their mundaneness in their conversation. You do not want to speak to a naked wall. As a result, they enter your vocal environment. For that reason, you speak out. ___________________________________|
penned on october 24, 2014!

Copyright © Verlena S. Walker

Details | Blank verse | |

Sea And Space

I see outer space
As the place
To retrace the roots
Of the human race.

I see under the sea
Is where our bodily
Cells first came to be.

Man's heart is in the stars,
Holding onto the dream to reach Mars.
Man's history,
Written in the stars as destiny.

I am but a child,
Born onto this planet turned wild.
I am but a soul
Sent here to alleviate the toll.

I see a sea of stars,
A healing ocean for our scars.
I see an empty crater
As void as our love for our Creator.

Man's fate has
Always been to create.
Man's destiny is to face
The sailing of the vastness of sea and space.

Copyright © Marissa Faries

Details | Rhyme | |

Goin' In

G-O-I- to the N. These 4 letters fill my head and that point I do begin. To go in and bust a ryhme. Come with a bong and you're right on time. To see my quickness, watch my shine and see me snap on every line. Through the course of this beat, I'll try to demonstrate. How everytime I jump on a track, I seem to defacate. And literate the coldness that I epitimate. Let's get it straight. I'm up on my way to the top and all my opponents I will eliminate. I see the game today and I must say it's a shame to mention. they're ryhming street with meat but lack a true flowwer's intuition. they're just spitting about the money and how they're looking so legit. And you say that you're running the streets well I'm about to take your jurisdiction. Because i never run out of breath. Can't you see that I'm clearly insane. Because this state of excessive dilirium has got me on a campaign. To get my streets from out of their sleep. And have them bopping to the beat. It's a renasance full of ambionce. And bovine hide free. It's a party and I'm the host. But the rest you've yet to see. Go by name of Intel The Brain. Or you could just call me I.T.B. Or you can call me that brother that can go up in the sky and have a mass celabration. Homie call it higher than thy. The skills that I sketch in this sonat, so horribly toxic. That if put inside of a missle and you launch it, call it atomic. And if you did'nt understand it then you need to run it back. Because I just plainly showed you how to go in on a track.

Copyright © Julian Miles

Details | Epic | |


A leaf fell from the Maple tree;
Another from the Birch--
A dozen more unhooked themselves
From off their lofty perch.

Some fell to heaps upon the ground;
Others scattered on the breeze--
A few still clung tenaciously
To the nearly barren trees.

And I took the winter as a thief
Since it pillaged every tree--
Recalling just how green and full
The branches used to be.

But then I felt a drop, or two
Reminding me again--
That winter is no place for leaves,
But rather snow, and rain!


Copyright © Mel Merrill

Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: IV

God made all people
But some better than others?
Stop being silly.

Copyright © Dan Keir

Details | Rhyme | |

Red Roses

Their petals are falling as their colors change
It wasn’t this way before but is it strange?
These roses are dying in delicate sweet sorrow
Will their love shed too? Or will it see tomorrow?
Petals and love falling slow like soft snowflakes
A little change in season is all it takes,
But will these roses bloom again in a new morn?
Will their love come back to greatly adorn?

Will their beauty be gone forever once it fades away?
Or will it come back to make everything okay?
For what will the roses be worth if their beauty dies forever?
Will the image and value from them permanently sever?
Will the light in their eyes suddenly become dark?
As their splendor and significance steadily grow stark? 
Or will they rise like light at the beginning of dawn?
And be reborn more beautiful than a swan?

Copyright © Literrius Miller

Details | Prose | |


She's the flour in the middle of a fertile desert soil
She dreams of my dreams when i dream she dreams dreams that we dream
She's a speechless pole
She's a footstep away from my soul
She dreams of my goal
She's my African queen
Her womb carriers the nation's poetry
She takes me back to my dreams in chains
I make my own God she believes
She's one minute past jealousy
She's the speed of an angry poem in the dark
The black paint building an arch
The spirit of a mic resurrected by a dead poem
Speechless pole stronger than cone
She's my poem
She's my poetic lyrical port
I can see by the blushes right under my rhymes
She's so beautiful she makes you read her repetedly
She's my poem

Copyright © Raymond Ngomane

Details | Quatrain | |

Behold My Pen

Behold my pen
that writes and scribbles
and bleeds blue ink
in drips and dribbles.

That crosses paper
in bites and nibbles
and weighs my thoughts
in spite of quibbles.

Words as strange as
this and then.
Letters and numbers
like S and 10.

Thoughts and feelings
I've had before.
Memories waiting
the pen to bore.

Lines as long
as stretching can.
Jots and jolts
where each began.

Loving strokes
to those I send.
Messages made
that they might blend.

All these meanings
from the heart.
Behold my pen.
Their only art.

Copyright © Trevor McLeod

Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: VI

The body: sacred
We’re all made in God’s image
Hence... circumcision?

Copyright © Dan Keir

Details | Lyric | |

Coming From Where I'm From

Coming from where I’m from
By Nate Spears
Published 2013 in “Death OF A Rose” By Nate Spears

Coming from where I’m from
Every day is a battle to survive 
War is in session 
Right before our eyes

Each day we battle lessons
Just to be in the running for blessings
Coming from where I’m from
We move rapidly on missions

The dead is alive with every walk of the lifeless 
Limited income withholds wealth
The living is near death
Spirits are stripped of guilt

Coming from where I’m from
Deprived wealth
Creates bad health 
In occurrence to this 
Good feelings are killed

The worst gets exposed 
As times get worse
Financial situations become a disaster
No man on earth can rehearse
The world is broken
Hunger brings harm
Coming from where I’m from
Dictatorship is not fond

The environment brings the need to shoot
These activities loosens the roots
We’re grounded by values as thin as a pin
We lose ourselves at falling rates like bowling pens

No free passes
Prisons filled in masses
Separated by classes
Coming from where I’m from.

Copyright © Nate Spears

Details | Free verse | |


Zephyrus breezes speak gently-
Undertones of placid eras alive in memory-

Tumult rages awaiting rigorous gates to detonate their command,
Planning utter obliteration of finite serene ways…

Blue and pink swirls of peaceful dusk
Replaced with a grey and murky inferno 

Eyes of Hades suck cherished life 
from all vibrant beings.

Shallow surf lazy with time,
Cruelly tricked - turned to tides of torment.	

Deceptive frailness fractures
serene, primordial peace.

Where is the dignity?
Noble causes massacred-
Equanimity executed under the breast
upon which we all feed-

Ceaseless greed-
Ultimately the beast we feed.
Looming vulnerability of us-
The annihilation breed

 {placid undertones}

Copyright © Amy Green

Details | ABC | |

Push Up

i could sit here. day in and day out
thinking of the most proper way
to let the ink in the pen spill out
but as of late im feeling prehistoric 
so much weight on my shoulders 
and i dont know where to go
resuscitate my soul
look back up and head to the goal

so much evil around. i feel like the devils workin double shifts just to bring me down.
on the road to redemption
you can take a seat up in the front section
just so you can feel the emotions
in this electric notion

i've done a lot of things that hide the halo
let it all collaborate when i medicate 
now look at me, mind workin like plato
formulate a new path to take so i can
maneuver through all the mistakes 
we all know we cant change what we've already made
but we can change the next thing we create
startin to sound like a serenity prayer
5 steps till im thirty
and the twenty four before i was never a player
found out when the lights came back on im strictly a lover
its the strongest drink for your soul, when its thirsty
so careful how much you intake or be left hungover
even worse be the one she ran over

i dont mean to come off like im too deep
but the obstacles made there way through just to scrape through
and leave me suffocating
just for me to re-invent a new way to breathe, re-decorating

is your life so complicated 
you rather wet up your pillows and revoke from the life you live
just think of your kids mourning 
theyll never see that pretty face in the morning any more
cheer your self up
you got a lot to live for
your a gem and im that friend
trynna appraise the value 
that you dont see inside of you

just another day for him
goin about
searchin wonderin what his purpose is
running in circles 
till he found a way through all the turbulence

Copyright © pat roswell

Details | Imagism | |

The Red Symphony

A self-written poem begun in Christmas Time,
While it tasting the soup and looking for rhyme.
In the kitchen, neighbor with the quiet tomato paste,
The sorcerer's apprentice, a poet pretty well placed
Near Soups (ciorbe) with characteristic sour taste
With luminous face and much grace added the rest:
As he was sipping and tasting from raw and cooked.
His group had a passionate look at what was booked
For the dinner: These might be meat and vegetable soups.

They had to choose till the coming of the helping troops
For the pig`s sacrifice rite, old mixture of joy and grief
Under the hot and long debrief of the pleasant smell-thief 
Tripe soup (ciorba de burta) hard prepared from beef,
And calf foot soup (ciorba de vitel), with green-gold leaf 
Pickled soup (supa de moare) with pork and big rice;
But use the dice to decide between spice and allspice.

From the slaughtered pig the village` families prepare: 
Carnati - sausages  kept in special aromatic smoke 
Of wet fir and oak burned at small fire as enjoyed by folk;
Caltabos - sausages made with liver sprinkled with beers;
Toba and piftie - dishes using pig's feet, head and ears 
Suspended in aspic like a frozen symphony in red
After cups of plum brandy and before going the bed
Tochitura - pan-fried pork to bid it a farewell, twice
Served with mamaliga - palesta , and red wine with ice,
Or boiled wine with pepper and cinnamon against frost; 
So that the pork can swim and the verse were glossed;
Piftie - inferior parts of the bashful pig, mainly the tail, 
Feet and ears, kind of meal like taken from a fairytale
In which all are cooked and served in a form of gelatin
In this naturalist field, all the poets smile like Mr.Bean;
Jumari - small pieces of pig meat are fried and tumbled 
Through various spices if after all, you are a little troubled 
 And may falter some poetical from the famous songs
Like "So, good people drink…" couples of diphthongs
Since Saturday to Thursday and make colorful the gray.

This poem was written in the Night of Tuesday to Friday.
( And later we`d find that the housewife had covered with it  the pickles cucumbers jar.)

Copyright © Ovidiu Bocsa

Details | Epic | |

When is the time

         When is the time 
When is the time for unity
I feel may be not too sooner 
Not Until we place love above all
Known as God

When is the time for peace 
I feel may be not yet now 
As it is 
our ignorance is like 
A wall in between the space 
Of our joy from love 

When is the time for joy 
Not until all human are 
Equal as one in love.

When is the time for love
I wish as I write
The time is now
For until then 
The world will finally 
Find here on earth the long
Awaited heaven.

Copyright © richard nnoli

Details | Haiku | |

All About the Music: Sole On Soul

Click clack; Sole on soul.
Swaying shoes to the rhythms 
The beat makes you whole.

Copyright © Dan Keir

Details | Epic | |

The best are yet unborn

The best are yet unborn 
If we are like of this now
Then I ask who is the best 
In a sense that the world 
Is turning into a jungle of 
Mad gangs on our shoulder 
Everywhere so I ask 
Where are the best at

The best are yet unborn 
I always wonder who
Is the master of all
Show me one person
So I will ask him the best 
Worries of my soul 

The best are yet unborn
We live in a world once peaceful
Once then I guess the best 
Once exist 
It like a mystery by history 
How they are now no where
To be found 
Since justice is on exile 
I recon the best are yet unborn 

The best are yet unborn 
We need be born again 
We don't need to die to 
Be born again
Only but change our ways
So simple as that 
As simplicity is a power 
Many don't know 
I hear 
Peace joy happiness unity 
Calling from afar 
There the best are withhold 
Not until we found love
Till then the best will be 
Born again
I rest my case 

Copyright © richard nnoli

Details | Verse | |

Inevitable Bear

Oh lonely Inevitable Bear,
Padding claws, death in white
Sorrow in recurring nightmare
Instinct’s test; fight or flight?

Camouflage against the fence,
A challenge; my subconscious fear
Ominous slowly moving silence,
“Let me in, there’s a bear out here!”

Copyright © Dan Keir