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Birthday Free Verse Poems | Free Verse Poems About Birthday

These Birthday Free Verse poems are examples of Free Verse poems about Birthday. These are the best examples of Birthday Free Verse poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse |

Hands

Featuring: Leonora Galinta
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Take My Hands
I Offer Them To You
Hold Them Tight
Never Let Go Of Them!
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~MY HANDS~

With all the time on my hands
I gave my hands one job.
  My Hands 
-The Artist-

My hands paint everything in my life
they paint my weakness, my strength 
they paint the fire in my eyes
they hold me when I'm cold
my hands colored my childhood!

Like an architect, 
my hands drew the plans and layouts of my life.
My hands *very articulate, are they? 
They continue to sew and show the way  
Sometimes, my hands paint the truth
Sometimes, my hands paint lies
Painting hurtful images on dry wall
My palms, my fingers embedded calluses from every fall
Creating images, healing my heart
Sometimes my hands are the only friend I see. 

With no words to say
I caress the sky line like a mime
My hands ride the wind, 
My hands paint a world, 
each of their own. 

Young and pretty finger prints 
They feel, they hold, they grip
Don't let go!

Clever and cute
It's time for motherhood
My hands painted your first hold
Traced your first smile
A painting  I treasure forever in my heart
Yes! A Rembrandt they became during birth 
Now your all grown up...  :-(  
Embarrassed to embrace the hold
One day when I'm old you will hold my hands and remember the gold.

My hands paint many designs when it comes to love
sometimes a masterpiece 
sometimes a mistake
sometimes my hands felt images I can't describe
Made up moments of handicap when lost
My hands perfect when in love
They write songs when complete
So many interlock moment with you
Firm, the perfect match, my fingers spoke.

My hands 
-The Artist-
they've been told
held so many times
always meeting, greeting,  
waving hello's and goodbyes... ((you see my hands, they smile too))

Painful, arthritis 
cuts, bruises
Pinching my way through reality. 
Reaching holding on to dreams.
Snapping fingers, we are a team.

My hands age in every turning page
Shriveled and old
Still you embrace and love the hold
my hands touch and make a difference
my hands learned a lot
my hands prayed 
and knew their duty.
My hands employed by me.
When they are bored,
they tap and tap and draw THAT' annoying noise.

My hands know secrets, a fortune teller can never reveal
they hold the past, present, and  future in every line.
I extend my hands,
without flipping the bird
Thank you Hands!
I am enjoying the sign language show.

In my next life, or so
I will praise my hands
Yes so beautiful, tender, they love to feel...................

My Hands
-The Artist-
I can't believe with all the time I have on my hands.
I forgot to mention I'm left-handed.

by;pd


Details | Free verse |

THE POET DESTROYER

A shades poet, writing in blacks quailed ink,
Expressing emotions by a poetic pallet of diversity,
On a canvas rainbow bursting forth across the
Horizon at dawns first light.
Imaginations dream seeker, walking amongst 
The clouds, in heaven's meadows above.
Inspiration's muse, she'll never realize what
A simple comments pleasure, can give to
Lighten up someones day.
I've read eloquence's words placed upon the
Lab top screen before me, and felt tears sorrow,
Exhilaration’s heights of elevation.
Through her words of poetic thoughts placed 
Within lines.
Getting to know another person, and so now
Calling her a friend.
We the bards are becoming a rare breed, 
Unique each one of us, in our own ways,
But in retrospective similarities sharing the 
Same traits and needs.
To write, to express, and use our intense
Imaginations, to take others along with us,
In a journey beyond physical limitations,
Beyond body and mind.
She calls herself Poet Destroyer, but in 
Reality's truth, she is not destruction’s poetic
Slayer, but instead an angel of 
Compassion helping those whom need guidance.
What is the meaning of life, I've heard this
Asked many times before?
My personal opinion to this question is
To make some kind of difference in this 
World.
To touch another's persons life in some way,
Special,
Poet Destroyer you've touched mine,
And this is my way of saying thank you.
Happy Birthday to come my friend.
Always Cheri.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN



Details | Free verse |

Happy Birthday II

For today,
The air breeze,
The sun rise,
The birds chirping,
and reminds me your birthday.

For today,
I am alone,
without you who born today,
for I know I do not have anything to offer.

For today,
this is a poor me,
that wishing you far away from home,
that I only have my prayers for a gift,
that if I could exchanged my prayers for you,
I am willing to do it all.

For today,
I am sorry,
Sorry for not being to pretty,
Sorry for not being rich,
Sorry for not being famous,
Sorry for not giving you a branded gift,
Sorry for ashamed you,
that this is your birthday,
I am glad for your born.

For now,
Happy Birthday.
From apologetic me,
that by remembered your born day,
is the best way for your gift.

For now,
hey loved,
happy birthday from me,
from the bottom of my heart.


Details | Free verse |

The Deamon Faire

The Deamon Faire
The Deamon Faire
a paroday of a novel
the awful ugly was moving slightly impaired in the fire was slowing it down
it was the deamon faire come to the home
the little child asleep in the hay
the pussy willow cat came to catch the deamon faire
she crept near the crypt
the deamon faire lumbered near the mill
the mill was turning wheel almost captured pussy willows tale
she sounded like a deamon cat all wound upp and upp too bat
indeed the deamon faire looked like a hairy bat in a suit with the tie
the cat pounced at the deamon faire and missed the splash was a wet pussy 
willow cat
she hissed the deamon faire sounded just like this
a long burning howl pulled over a wool scarf then turned into a screech
the outreach tried to reach the scene of the crime was an old pond milling and 
lumbering and long
overgrown ivy trailing
meandering overblown moss
the author was right up to this point and then she lost her train of thought the 
end of the book never tells us exactly what happened to the
The Deamon Faire
ed,note,ed
did you read Faire as FAIR  or FAIRY oh what a Happy Birthday Paroday
a real live dead poet charlax poetry poem


Details | Free verse |

ANDREA D

.                 *ANDREA  D.*
.                 Happy Birthday 
.                      9/5/??


Wonderful lady here at the soup.
Life is still a big dream no matter her age group.
I bring to you September 5th Birthday scoop.
Andrea D, your a classic like Miss Betty Boop.
You target another year with a slam dunk hoop.
 
I want to take this time to dish out a cute birth day rhyme.
Relax enjoy the glitter & streamers anyway you can-Madame.
The candles points to you, like Uncle Sam.
Expressing my self like Sam I am!
Would you!" Could you!" Have yourself a Happy Birth Day Jam!

This is the part where my mini slam gets cute!
I wish you the best birth day sending you my salute.
Birthday cake made out of real forbidden fruit.
Straw-burst candy, smiles that flow in the air like pollute.
Celebrate the day you where brought into this world wearing your birthday suit.

Enjoy your day, as if you won a super shopping spree.
Enjoy your day, as if your day was full of potpourri.
Enjoy your day, with all the smiles everyone can see.
Enjoy your day, with all your friends and family.
Enjoy your day, with all the sweetness like honey from a bee.
Better yet Andrea D.
HAPPY! Happy Birth Day To You, ANDREA D!

Wishing you the best thing a birthday can bring.
Rising to the birthday song, Joe your king will sing.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANDREA, FROM ALL of us HERE at THE SOUP!
                   
by; P.D.


Details | Free verse |

Being there

Diamonds are a dangerous commodity.
Topaz brickettes pave lost roads 
for the unfortunate paths 
of bewildered Dorothy's
(and misguided second-removed cousins).
The birthday cards
I send myself,
are never returned to sender;
they're forwarded to you.

Rubies are ominous and a crucial burden.
Red. A vibrant statement.
Look at me! I'm red! 
Quite a pathetic gemstone.
(Dorothy - you need to re-dye your slippers).
The birthday cards you've sent me
are now forwarded back to you.
Diamonds and rubies 
are dangerous commodities.

Quartz tickles my fancy.
Limestone abandons my will.
Emeralds? I visted that city; once.
The PO Box for my re-routed
birthday cards are registered there.
My second-removed cousin
tiles his palacial floors with them.
Diamonds, rubies and emeralds are
dangerous commodities.

Sapphires are worthless crackerjacks.
Amethyst is a word that
(half the population of Idaho can't spell).
A Rock of Gibraltar. The man you needed.
The dupe you wanted.
The patsy who refrains from  
visiting your morosed petting zoos.
The gemstone you suckle?
Who is it?

No!

I'm not your diamond;
sweetheart.
Hardly, am I your ruby;
cupcake.
Perchance, an emerald? 
Doubtful! 
Quartz, limestone...a sapphire?
You orchestrate personal deaths 
upon the metallic
bands around your rhenoid fingers.
A gemstone I'm not a part of.

Being there - 
I was the part of your life
that was accidentally flung over 
rusty-coat hangers
stuffed in moth-ridden closets.
I was the gemstone 
that never glossed
your fancy fingers.

Diamonds?
Emeralds?
Rubies?
Sapphires?
Quartz?
Limestone?

No...pumice; 
my love.
Understand, pumice doesn't sink!
I'll pop back into mischievious
blackened-hearts anytime I please -
and you will welcome me for
a sincerity that warrrants no appraisals.

However, 
my utmost truisms sparkle 
decadent- bright
like diamonds -

a dangerous and rare
commodity.





.




Details | Free verse |

My Son Moon and Star

            My Son Moon and Star ~

        Approaching the celebration of his Birth 
                cherishing the gift I received 
           within weeks of conception I knew
            something amazing was in Creation ~

            the Stars held a party
            sending me with one of their own  
    Gazing at 3 shooting stars twinkling crossing the sky   
       It was magic  It was destiny taking its flight.  

           In love with an October full moon 
               drawing and painting I liked 
             thinking of Vincent Van Gogh ~
                caught in a loss of time 

          Hours going by as choosing my color  
           a wittness to three falling stars 
             A clear night sky sparkle's
           A once Famous Star was sent 
            inspiring the tiny child inside ~ 

           Never a doubt in my mind at all     
       child bearing was worth any pain received
      yours will be in a pursuit of a dream ~
             one to cherish and hold
          My Son was born the following August ~

    working on the set of Grimm 3rd season this year  
         as the set of Leverage for 3 years .

              Has done a Indie movie here  
             In Paris it was seen and honored
             coming soon filmed in Portland ~
                 "The House of Last Things "

        awaiting the credits , you will see
                        
    1st Assistant Director ~ production assistant 
   
                 My Young Lion Mans dream ~
        A proud mom I watch every show and the credits 

        as foretold in a whisper to me 25 years ago
              My Son &  Moon and Star  
               A name you will all know ~

            Happy Birthday to my creative Son
             you will exist in my heart forever~
                        and thereafter               
                             Mom


Details | Free verse |

The Voice of Her Mother- My Daughter's Gift

I've written the lyrics to two lullabies for my daughter, Shereen. I even made 
up the tunes, and I'd sing to her when she was a baby to put her to sleep. She 
still remembers those songs at 19 years of age. For my birthday last May, she 
wrote this poem as a gift....just like last year. The quoted parts are words taken from the lullabies. I adore my daughter, my greatest and most precious gift.

“When she smiles, I feel like a bird in the sky.”
The words softly sung to the weary child-
This bundle of whimpers
This armful of distress-
Hoping they’d ease her restlessness
Hoping they’d calm her disquieted heart…
And they did. 
Like nothing else ever could.
Nothing could comfort her
Like the voice of her mother.

“She is the apple of my eye.”
Rocking gently in time with the tune, she swiftly fell 
Fell into a peaceful slumber 
Nuzzled in the warmth of her consoler 
Whimpers softened, distress vanished 
Quiet. Serene.
Floating in the promise 
That those words would be there
To welcome her in the morning. 
Nothing could comfort her
Like the voice of her mother. 

“With laughter and joy she fills my heart”
Nestled in that kind embrace
The child, now almost grown
With tear-stained face and heavy heart
Couldn't fight the world alone
But whenever she was breaking, too tired to go on
She’d search for those same words-
To ease her restlessness
To calm her disquieted heart…
She’d search for those same words
To find them in those same arms.
And she’d fall. Like she always did.
Fall into that peaceful slumber
Quiet. Serene.
Floating in the promise 
That those words would be there
To welcome her in the morning. 
Nothing could comfort her
Like the voice of her mother.

Written by Shereen Nathalie Ghali (May 18, 2014)

Please read The Month of May...which is Shereen's first birthday poem written for me and posted here. You will find it if you type the title in PS's search engine. It is a beauty and is in rhyme. 


Details | Free verse |

Dance For Me Johnny, Dance

Finding this roll of yellow paper
Twas just a tiny child seven years old
Gathering all his colour crayons bits as whole
Setting aside the somber tides in silence an attempt
To rise above these swirling waves a distant world but where...
Surreal it seemed less than dreams and all the tear stained, shores.
                                                            


Details | Free verse |

Happy Birthday, Mom

Happy birthday, Mom
I wonder how many years have passed by
Since I gave you my first tenuous smile 
Since you steadied my first faltering step
Since the first time I called you "Mommy"
You are the place I came from
You are my first home
You are an angel in human form
Who lives inside my laughter
And crystallized in my every tear drop

I want to thank you 
For your heart, faith and hope
For teaching me right from wrong
For your tender care and warm hugs
For all your steadfast love
For filling my days with rainbow lights
For all the times we have shared
For always being there in my time of need
For helping me deal with life's stresses
For helping me accept my defeats
For everything you have done
For you made me a woman I am

One birthday after another
They seem faster each year
I just want you to know that
The years you devoted to me, 
You can trust, were worthwhile.

Happy Birthday, Mom.
You are the best Mom a daughter could have.




~For my Mom's B'day @July 12


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