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Free Verse Philosophy Poems | Free Verse Poems About Philosophy

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

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Details | Free verse | |

Recording/Re-playing/Recording/Re-playing

The farm
     and the porch light hums 
the sound of another 
orange dawn.

Burnt up – crisp
      aching new reaches 
of the imagination turn 
from corn
      to wheat
to the pungent shade
of dried blood on hands –
kissing corners of a mouth
never kissed.

Sweeping ‘cross in whispers 
two thousand years
      and more, come
words on the flat-line horizon,
dripping sideways,
like a red cat's eye marble 
on a circular seesaw
that knows no bounds;
rolling infinitely back
     and forth - 
ringing through ears that were once
in that ago (can you hear it?)
hearing the coming of a storm 
     being heard 
by another set of ears,
in some other when –

     some other marble.

When, speaks the unspoken.
When, treads where none may tread.
When, grips the barren outcroppings of space –
playing the unending moments –
where no other question hence forth

can grip.

Night sounds come in floods
of mauve,
      and quiet apricot;
slicing through oceans,
unsung,
      where no ears hear.

The farm: echoing, lowing and fawning –
Trying to stay true 
      to form,
bleeds into the fibers of a dream
once lived –
recognizing its existence
through the act of a moment, 
      lived.

The girl turns to face 
the enormity
of all she has yet to hear upon 
      the brazen, blazing horizon;
she strips down to goose bumps 
on the skin
that God gave her; 
opening her mouth to hear all
that she is –
 
      breathing in the dawn 
as it breaks.

The farm notes this coming.

The sky knows;

The wind knows.

The earth knows - relaxing
at her feet
      exhaling
through her soles,
resounding through the mouth
of the un-kissed,

breathing through this land; 
humming through porch lights,
spinning through atoms,
sifting though heavens,
recorded through lifetimes,
      and through into another’s
open mouth.




© Kristin Reynolds 1/9/09

Copyright © Kristin Reynolds | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse | |

Buttercups and laughter

She sings in soft tones,
her magic exists beyond the obvious.
Listen closely to her wanting,
She is wrapped in a trancendent light.

A dreamer,
chasing white rabbits.
Grasping for the infinite,
with delicate hands.

A moth, 
Dances within her luminosity.
Flying on yesterday's wings,
carrying smiles that are meant for tommorow.
Witness her as she waits to exhale.

A daisy chain,
tied around her wrist.
A future promise to be kept.
For within her spirit,
exists a burning passion! 
She waits for one who is worthy,
of her consuming flame

Although she is unaware,
hers is a temporary sadness.
Happiness flirts at the edge of her dreaming,
waiting for an open window.
His shadow hidden behind frosted glass.

Shades of green,
turn brilliant yellow!
Buttercups dance around her feet.
Her laughter floats across the meadow,
as happiness runs to her open arms.

Together they skip, towards her apple tree.
For hers is a faith that trancends the temple.
Her spirit sought and found salvation.
He had been with her all along,
I can see it in her smile.
The rain has passed and sunshine now resides in her eyes!

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Oneness

Oneness
                   Authored by Chuck Keys

It had no color,
Lacking shape, size and dimension.
It wasn't moving or breathing.

There was neither aroma nor taste, not here or there.
Touching was useless because it wasn't physical.
It was indistinct and limitless.

Thinking multi-physically
Multi-sensually and multi-psychologically 
It wasn't here or there and it was.

With no distinction, 
It looked like everything else,
Or it could not have looked like everything else.

It never made me feel good nor bad,
Nor happy nor sad
Nor quite nor trite.

In our world of joy and destroy, we sort and distort,
Looking more on the surface and less on the inside,
Ready to judge and be judged from outside in.

The "oneness" of mankind stretches beyond definitions and limits,
From outside to inside and from inside to outside.
We are one distinct and alike world of "oneness."

Differences exist for differences, 
Therefore, differences don't exist.
Only "oneness" exists.

DEDICATION:
This poem is dedicated to Dr. Clayborne Carson and The Gandhi-King Community,
For Global Peace with Social Justice in a Sustainable Environment.  
www.gandhiking.ning.com

Copyright © Chuck Keys | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

Color Me

Color me white, or color me black. Color
me brown, or color me red. Color me 
yellow, but color me to be just me.

Color me anyway you want. You are the 
artist, you know what to do, just capture 
my beauty and let it show through.

My beauty is not on the outside for everyone 
to see. My beauty comes from within and 
few people have seen.

Color me with the colors that you so much
love to use and when people see this painting,
they will see themselves in me.

The people will ask you - why did you put so
many colors on me and you will tell them - because
the beauty I did see.

The painting is now finished, the artist has done 
his job. A painting of many colors, that he is very 
proud of.

The colors bring beauty to the painting on the 
wall, but if we were all colored blind - we wouldn't
see any colors at all...

Copyright: written by
Lucilla M. Carrillo

Comments:

I wrote this poem because through out life 
I have seen a lot of injustice done, because
of who we are , or where we came from. We
did not choose to be who we are, or where
we came from. God chose that for us. I don't
think God made a mistake when He made us.
He had His reasons. We are who we are, that
can never be changed. We live in this world.
We are God's Race...

Copyright © Lucilla Carrillo | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

Love Notes in a Bottle

Love Notes in a Bottle

It came as a last meandering thought
How could I know?
Maybe a thousand years from now
On a far away shore
Would exist a lady of mystical lore
Reciting sonnets of medieval tales
In magic forests, dreaming of love
As I love
Who could feel a bond so delicate as a doves feathers
A pain so strong, like a tiger wronged
That to part would mean emotional low tides to come

That she could feel the loneliness of night
The scent of the morning dew
The feeling of rain upon ones breast
The smell of the rose
The view of the meadows
The Laughter as the children danced
The plea of one whose heart bleeds
The desires to capture love and yet remain free

Her eyes would show her ageless beauty
Her smile would hide her thoughts
Wrapped deep
Inside of old love letters

She would sigh
As I recited old prose
We would hand in hand repose
Knowing growing old is how it goes

Alas she is but an image in my mind
A thousand years till birth
Or even more
A fantasy, that lets me die in peace
That someone could love as I loved thee

You were my past, and my eternity
Lovers who never took flight
Broken wings, and broken borders
Boundaries never crossed
Kisses though we never lost

On every wind swept shore
I wander with the birds scouting overhead
As wave upon wave of desolation slaps my head
A woman is over there by the sea
She but a stranger in the mist
So not at all is she thee

A thousand years from now
On wind swept shore
Will she be forlorn?
Weeping for the likes of me
Whispering inside, he was here but a thousand years ago
Love letters telling loves desires
Inside a bottle and buried in sand

Alas is the ocean not made of ancient tears












Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

John F Kennedy - Martin Luther King Jr - Robert F Kennedy and Donald Duck



it was the sixties
we were young
we were going to change the world
spin it like a basketball on our finger
take the three point shot 
win the game
we had great leaders 
john, robert, martin...

the planet was singing 
with the purity of a four year old
...
The ants go marching two by two;
The little one stops to tie his shoe,
...
then 
it started raining bullets
our optimism soured
slightly at first

and the grassy knoll
and the sniper
and the magic bullet

john was shot 
jackie squirmed
we sat on the edge of our seats

The ants go marching four by four;
The little one stops to shut the door,

John F. Kennedy was assassinated 

The ants go marching five by five;
The little one stops to take a dive,

years had passed, five
look before you dive

the civil rights movement gathered 
to fight for their God given rights
the right to be treated as humans 
exactly that...humans...no more no less.
to listen to the man who had said
"Nonviolence is a powerful and just weapon 
which cuts without wounding and ennobles 
the man who wields it. It is a sword that heals."


the man who stood on the hill speaking
"I have a dream today!"

The ants go marching seven by seven;
The little one stops to pray to heaven,

Boom, boom, boom, boom! 

Martin Luther King Jr. was shot 
died

and my God it rained 
it rained salt
as a nation black and white cried

The ants go marching nine by nine;
The little one stops to check the time,

time for the rise of Bobby
Hoorah! Hoorah!

Boom, boom, boom, boom! 

i wish he could have ran faster than the bullets
they murdered John's brother
Robert F. Kennedy was dead

the sixties where almost finished
and i wondered 
if the world would ever be the same
again

I marched away buried my face into the ground
To get out of my pain.

great leaders lost
words that radiated 
radiate hope

America was
the envy of the world

it's two thousand sixteen 
and we have sunk so deep into the dirt

i know we can't Trump this disaster 
have you ever heard of fools gold
we have a choice
our lives count

remember the ants
nature's banner is blowing in the wind

don't make
the little one shout
"THE END!!" 




March 16 2016
armand 



Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

Movements of Beginnings

                                                                   written on time’s page
                                                        with finite syllables of dust
                                                  he spelled my heritage
                                           from earth to sky
                                     along an umbilical line of faith 

                                 we fluttered from the lips of fingers
                           fully form for purpose
                       written on an invisible calculus
                that bring monarchs where birth mark lingers
            and salmons somersaulting sluice and streams
      turtles, penguins, and herons white wings
netted in design with nested tabula rasa  mind 

I have an argument
   against the beginning begotten from a bang 
      before atom or element
         I have an argument against force and natural laws
             at work without mass or embodiment
                 for embryonic gravity or forces weak or strong
                    I have an argument
                        that the singularity could not become more than fragment
                           of energy again if a single atom explode 
                              its forces flocking away from fusion
                                 for energy fission to explode

                                  a theory 
                         flimsy as spiders web
                  dethroning my majesty gulped 
          in primeval slime unlinked history from love
  minimizing the particular time of our becoming on ships 
that met the stagnant eyes of swampy thoughts … shuddering 
                                    in vain
                     the whip cracks louder than pain -
             and on our black blistered backs … crumbling 
soils in desertification threw some syllables skywards for mercy
                               starvation winds with sickle clouds of rain  
                                 they lie again ... leaving us without inheritance
                                    for all our labors, lost, and grievance
                                      what bang can buck the strain 
                                          and bring us broken souls to glory again?

Copyright © L'nass Shango | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse | |

In The Moment


i wanted it...my God i wanted it

...but how do you do that...

                                        

                                                             HOW!

the second you touch it...



                                                                                it's gone.

it's the curse of being alive.                  After all...what are we?


                   a bundle of thin blue wires...some red tubing

our largest organ is our skin...What are we?

           our brains are unreliable...our emotions uncontrollable.

you want to grab it...hold it...

good luck!        it's a lubricated bar of soap, you can't hold 

i've tried...my life has been nothing but trying to hold on to it.


how can you be in it?   how? if you can't even hold it...

i feel like an astronaut 

                      moving aimlessly in space with no tether!



love would be my first choice.



                   when i delivered both my daughters at home

pulled them out carefully from their mothers womb...Gone!


                           their lives from one second old to now...Gone!


women...oh how i have loved...made love

                                        i have several doctorates in love making

i hold women more carefully 
             than i do an over bloomed flower
                                       as to  not lose a single petal.
i refuse to breathe 
                  just to hold their scent 
                                                 as long i can.
                                                         
treasure their face...
                 die in the act of a single kiss
                                                                  dress myself in their skin.

still
   it can't be done
          as soon as it happens
                                                it is gone
                                                         absolutely  
                                                                            gone!

you can't live there        
                 it is like Brigadoon.     
                               you'll never find it again.


you can't really live in the moment              

not really

it is gone as you live it...

the present, is immediately...the past

it is fleeting             

never to be held

                         i know...
                               i want so many moments back...
                                                                       just to live in them.
                                                                                      you can't...you don't.

we live what was...

dream of what might be.

live in the moment? 

as my words hit the page...the moments passed.  

in the moment? 

yes! i know i've been there

i just can't hold it. 

                      the smell of the ocean...
                                it's loud heavy metal music...
                                               the meandering haze in the air
                                                              that "i am invincible" feeling


the first time you held her...

your one true love now gone.

                     
                     the chiseled pillow look of clouds 
                                                          looking down at you
                                                                     as if you were the one.

that huge neon moon...

sits low in its living room.

a baby breeze 

touches lightly your breath.


                                 a gripping moment 
                                                 of unconscious union
                                                                     moments galore...


in the moment?

 i've tried!

it's always left as it happens. 

gone quicker than lived

and than 

only imagined.


12~28~2014
Maurice Yvonne
Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A
Contest Name: In The Moment 
 

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Silent Lies and Deception

Silent Lies and Deception


In the silence of murky waters
There slithers oily snakes of the night
Wearing masks of deception
Beware of fools singing with Stalin’s tongue

The KGB shall set you free
Drowning you in the river Volga
The cold water keeping your lips tight
Whilst the silent ones spread their deceits

Lies, lies their dirty little lies
I wonder how their tongues wag and loudly sprout
So righteous, like imams with out a doubt
I call for radio silence

When comes the clique of hate
They say they have none, and
Maybe this is true
They run out at times, spreading it to you

Those who truly have good will and peace
Growing like flowers in a botanical heaven
Never spew the bloody insecticides here on earth
That alters the genes of peace in me and you

Beware of white sheep
That howls like the wolf at the full moon
A wise man knows the meaning of silence
Silent ones simply slither sneaky prose in the night

The Caspian Sea
Holds many ghosts who if not for death
Could tell you many silent tales
Of those with a million smiles and twisted masks

Seekers of the Silent Lies and Deception

	Dead Sea and salty tombs

		Silent in womb


Notes: The last poems Angel and Devil, about mans ability for both good and evil, I continued the theme here, by describing two repressive regimes, Russian under the likes of Stalin and Putin and the Palestinian one under Arafat. The poem is either incomplete or to be continued in a second poem, as in the end I inferred the Silent one Amina, a story about the repression and hardships of women in India. An excellent book by a great author Fiza Pathan.

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

Beauty in my Palm

You are the wild flower in my palm
With no stem to keep you anchored to this covetous earth
You are the fragile thing I dare not cup,
As your petals whittle away under the wind
And flit unfettered in the air;
Exaggerated fear leaves my fingers numb
Hungry need leaves my fingers twitching
And my hand is paralyzed by turmoil
As every breath of wind takes another petal from me
And brings to my lungs, my chest and my heart
An overwhelming scent of need-

You are the wild beauty in my palm
And I dare not hold you to my chest
For I fear to crush you
To know first hand
That caged beauty, is beauty no more.

Copyright © Samir Georges | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |

When Cities Yell


what grows from these petri dishes? when will these hives with their metal monsters their deceiving smiles their artistic like visages stop breeding, stop growing, like a virus? what of the fertile land they cover, the resources they consume? what of their ravenous appetite? and barely a forest untouched. 17~12~2014 Maurice Yvonne

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

The Butterfly

I pursued a butterfly through the woods.
It fluttered, just always beyond my reach.
The more I pursued, the more it teased.
Stalking it, like prey, it just fluttered away.
I found  a moss covered log to rest,
Sitting in a serene, secluded spot.
A butterfly came ,sat upon the log.
I caught it in the palm of my hands.
It's wings became a rapid flutter,
Trying to escape my grasp.
I opened my hands , freeing it.
If we pursued things in life,
They become unattainable.
If we sit quietly and reflect,
they become attainable.
Chasing our dreams may be
as allusive as the butterfly.
Finding them as beautiful as the butterfly.

Copyright © Phyllis Babcock | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse | |

Growing Old and Brittle

To wake up with the rising sun
Wishing me old bones stay in bed
No longer do I feel to run
Life is all but over and done

I look in the mirror feeling blue
Front teeth no more, leak like a canoe
Getting old, this is no fun
Spending my days inside, away from the sun

Ricky called, hey Arty lets go out
Sorry Ricky, I am too old for that
Ah come on Arty lets go to the park
Leave me alone Ricky I am staying right here in the dark

Ricky was persistent, come on arty the park the park the park
Art replied, I am old now I don’t do parks!
Why not? It’s a sunny day; we always have fun at the park
Cant, Stevie told me, I am too old to go out and play

Why he said I am too old for toys and my trucks
I am too old to play even with the ducks
I didn’t wanna be old but there you have it
Stevie says I am one big sissy with my toys!

Ricky, not to be deterred
Come on man, I love toys too 
Lets go the park, come on come on
You are only seven years old Arty!

I feel older Ricky and missing all these teeth
No one will want to play with me, no one at all
I do Arty! lets go, besides haven’t you heard the news?
Seven years old why that’s the new five!

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

The Circles

Looked at the outside of steel window
Around in the dark, awesome feelings into the mid-night air
What the news was brought in the feelings!

Eyes of the orphan cat was flaming on the corridor.

Waiting for the light in the window 
Dark vision comes down into my eyes by cycle-weariness
Down from one circle to another circle in time-blindness

Who stands here, the Islamic old man!
Frustrated vision!
History of terrorism was carved on his burnt body
He wants to say something!

A white-complexioned Christian young man stands into the neighbor circle,
Surprised eyes! 
White-skinned history was printed on his blood-stained body 
He wants to know something!

A dark-colored Hindu boy stands into the third circle, 
Illusive vision!
History of third world is awakened on his envenomed body
He wants a little smile!

The old man, young man and boy are coming forward from the circles
Great distance... Near ...in front the room... 
Who are you? No reply
They disappear into the tuberose equipped black and white photo of my father
Dad is smiling, I am senseless! 

Tears are dropping from the eyes of our cat on the corridor.

SANDIP GOSWAMI, INDIA

Copyright © Sandip Goswami | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Welcome to life the journey begins

A child is born crying his eyes out wanting to return to the warmth of his mother's womb Once held a sense of security is felt with his head resting upon his mother's chest Welcome to life - prepare for a bumpy ride this won't be the last time you want to cry Life is an unpredictable journey as a traveller, many passengers will pass you by Dreams will be crushed, but also achieved hearts will be broken but also healed After every storm a rainbow will appear but this too is only temporary - as is life Life is also spectacular and wonderful a platform to achieve the ultimate goal Life is a balance of being fortuitous combining the right formula to succeed No one can tell you what will happen tomorrow nor predict your final destination People say destiny is written - maybe it is my advice is to always smile in the face of adversity set a legacy to be remembered for who you are always strive to be better than yesterday and finally to enjoy the journey The Silent One 15 November 2015 Trashed 4 contest by Broken Wings

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

-- and there are proverbs


Weak, weary and thirsty
from turning the other cheek,
I knowingly drink from a well 
made virulent by his animosity; 
a hatred spawned by insecurities.

My blood turns venomous,
seeps into my pen -- 
then commences a purging
in hope of not corroding from within.

With veins cleansed of his bane,
I witness ink evaporate,
and the well is replenished
by clouds unleashing acid rain.

As the epidemic spreads through town,
I fold the blade in a septic forge
while chanting the cliche
about what happens to those
who choose to wield the sword.



April 5th, 2014




+/-

Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Quote me Rumi Wounds

'the wound is where the light enters you' Rumi

In every adversity there is a lesson in every pain a message - listen Life will inflict many troublesome trials inside you there is a lion fighting for survival Keep smiling even when the path is unclear every wound can heal - when peace is found We will all fall - even the brave and strong it is how we rise that is the important task Your soul will always dance if you find ethereal light search for the key to unlock the chains to your mind Example for Quote me Rumi contest The Silent One 2 December 2015

Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

The Toilet Of Our Existence

It was what it was A stunning photograph of a toilet Ironically it was in the end a microcosm of life today Creative and positive in its composition Limited and depressing in its stark reality No matter how you paint it we are in the toilet of our existence No matter how you condemn it it's how you deal with it what you make of it and in the end even a shit house serves its purpose

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse | |

Walk a Mile

I put on your shoes
Tried to walk a mile
Sadly they were way to tight
I felt an old nail digging into my soul
I tried loosening the laces
However the knots were way too tight
Pain coursed through my body with each step
I walked through a puddle
Water poured through the holes
I became chilled to the bone

I stared at my sore feet
These had been lovely shoes at one time
Shining with such possibility
Now they have been scuffed 
Neglected
Walked through the mud
Left out in the cold
Cracked
Hardened
The protection they offered
Has long gone away

So I wonder
Is it not time
For a new pair of shoes

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

The Final Say

As our world spins into this blatant madness Family units like dead leaves, fading fast! Our children lost, good values tossed Idols abound, keeps us in a choke! Excesses, extreme shape our lives The Golden Rule, now a corny joke! A simple guide to can heal our earth-disregarded Yet, in spite of all these, God will have the final say When wars and storms sweep across our earth Leaders ignore the hour at hand Perhaps, the last to stand as men To right the wrongs of history past And re enact laws to seal the cracks! Potent winds arising, already on track Remember, love for man and nature will heal this earth Yes, I believe, in spite of all these, My God will have the final say So let the politicians, argue, fight and scheme Let the liars, deceivers, play their games!” Let death merchants chant their evil anthem “It’s not a child, but a piece of flesh”! While the years like pages torn from a book All blowing away like dust in the wind Gone forever beyond eternity's veil! 'Too simplistic', some claim, that love's the remedy Yet, in spite of all these, I will fear no end, for My God will have the final say! ~*~

Copyright © Annalise a.k.a. Audrey Haick | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse | |

Recycle

The grasshopper left the corn
For the dawn of the baobab tree
The elders brought flowers
For the floor of the ages past
And the door of ages to come
Grasshopper's heart stridulated
In awe. Its mandibles move
To shred its doubt in questions.

The elders stood silent
Before the open palm spooning
The eyes for a taste of wisdom:
"Patience," said the elders.
The elders ears buzzed 
With the sounds of futile wings
Longing for the flight of freedom
"Grow your conscience," spoke
The elders in the morning smoke
Of dew where the heart
Of flora and fauna is burning.

And I was left nothing there
But corn blades bitten bare
To the ground, and a path
Through the desert sands of wrath
That beckons me to where
I will sit in the elders' chair
Weaving syllables out of air
And searching for reason
Beside the stillness of the heart.
I am the recycled question
Waiting for answer in a flower's
Bed sown with eyes of treason.

Copyright © L'nass Shango | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse | |

The Day That Died Forever

When I am Colder,Older and then alone...
I will collect the sky on my own...
When the art has faded and the days then fade-
when everyone has gone away...

I may finally see what never was saw
.....ahhhhhhhhhhhhh............... the quiet sky

The unlit room which bares my end...shows the flashes of my pains my joys and sins.
This life has been a strange one since the curtains were drawn
These paper and plastic figures have clouded the dawn

I was once younger,foolish,and obsessed with truth
Now I am bitter,sour,dour faced with my heart under shoe

The children were all searching or lost in a crowd
All weeds in a garden...growing vile and foul

Though beauty was sold it never came true
Obsessions and vanity have traveled safe through

Materials and poison and everything lost
have been burned in the fires or lost in the frost

I stand face to mirror tearing my being apart
Winding thoughts of love,pain,god,and art

As the sun sets and the darkness grows
I too shall follow this pattern in tow

Death has a friendly hand and a pretty face
She has given me comfort as I leave this place

The wars have occurred,humanity's lost
Souls have been burnt in the fire or lost in the frost

Day was Life,Night is Death

And the latter has given counsel on my final steps

Copyright © Winter Wallace | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse | |

The Way

I'm often in conflict with childlike creatures They'd prefer to receive The Truth in a nicely decorated package embroidered with flattering designs presented sweetly to their ears Perhaps I'll be liked more that way... I'm always in search of The Way to be true to oneself in the face of judging souls They'd easily accept the appearance of things based on their own needs and wants discarding the ones which displease them a screening process that builds up to Hate... Perhaps I'll never be my True self as I wade the murky water of unknown territory shivers running through my core blinking under the cold emotionless stare slowly crushing under Expectations from all sides I may no longer Be Myself ......as in Life's Journey people only expects you to be the Image of their own needs

Copyright © Angeline Haikutwinkle | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse | |

Adrift

Adrift in this vast,
empty sea. Silent,
save for the beckoning call
of  distant gulls,
your only friend. And 
the makeshift mast and sail is
uselessly flaccid.

And beneath,
concealed
by the dangling sway, 
of muddy-
moss-green ribbons of waving kelp,
is the dark murk
of unknown depths.

Then the wind 
panics,
arousing your sail and
it swells into life
and draws you towards home.

Copyright © Rickie Elpusan | Year Posted 2005

Details | Free verse | |

Poetry Won't Hold Her Tongue

Poetry won't hold her tongue
When desperate times
And the little men they breed
Would counsel silence.

     She bursts instead Athenalike
     From out the wearied brain
     Or grows painfully from every vein
     Like ivy's tiny tendrils
     Pulling monuments to ground
     Inch by inch
     To let in the light and rain
     From which newer monuments may grow.

She cares not at all 
For their inconvenience.

     She shows herself so many ways:
     
     As the boldly topless Priestess,
     Snakes coiled about her outstreatched arms

     As the nun in golden sunlight
     Falling through cathedral stone

 This lady is a child
 All innocence of face
 And Ageless eyes
 She knows all that remains of purity,
 And every excess she also calls her own.

She woos the soul with its own music;
Her skin of sunsets draws her devotees
Towards her embrace
Her sweetcool breath like snowind calling
She comes again unbidden
Whispering her sweet nothings,
Bearing words to work

     Creation     Destruction     Change

Upon her restless,
                                   Gifted
                                               Tongue.

Copyright © William Masonis | Year Posted 2007

Details | Free verse | |

Questions

Who is more righteous,
The pious man who watches in awe,
Or the faithless man saving those in the blaze?

Who is stronger,
The man who lifts a ton with one arm,
Or the mother of four on her own?

Who has lost more,
The man who has lost his money,
Or the man who has lost his love?

Who is weaker,
The man who can't fight back,
Or the man who won't fight for him?

Who Is more savage,
The man who doesn't know right from wrong,
Or the man who doesn't care?

Who is wiser,
The man who has the answers,
Or the man who asks the questions?

Copyright © Michael McOrus | Year Posted 2005

Details | Free verse | |

The Color Missing

The Color Missing
Red, black, and blue are the colors of our work pens. Red is the color of the blood we spill on other people’s mistakes.  Blue is the color of the songs we sing on tax forms or pay stubs- every page has a secret melody. Black is the color of the streets we fear most. Black is the color of our signature of approval. Black is the color of our death.

‘But what about the Green pens?’ I ask. They say ‘the ink is too hard to see.’

Copyright © Jacob Reinhardt | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

As Utopia Sleeps

We have taken all anxiety
into our dreams
cruel, unfathomable acts 
lodge into our fascia, as pain

Part of a raging beast, 
oozing out of control
helpless cells, imbued with a wisdom
overcome by cancerous greed.

 We chase frothy bubbles
lose concerns in selfish
pursuits-far be it from us to be
the conduit that delivers peace

Our earth
seen from a moon flight
has a fragile beauty well known to us
Its oceans of miracles, clear water
pure air, be-mucked by enterprise
and murder, murder everywhere.

Silly minds twisted beyond Nature's purity
Dragon's teeth sprouted eons ago
Death hangs over us-the years too brief
Two and fro we leap from history to history
Blood and mayhem and un-numbered griefs.

The world, full of troubles,  as Utopia sleeps

Suzanne Delaney

Copyright © Suzanne Delaney | Year Posted 2013

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 | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Human Frailty

...Apologies to Heraclitus and W. H. Auden...

We, defeated by the merest things,
in defeat, endure...for now.

No abiding truth in "faith":
origins and destinations
we cannot differentiate,
all random, unguided
by any prescient power;
but, not illogical (there is no illogic.)

We impose all "universal order,"
influence what subsequently occurs,
to learn, or not, through endless repetition,
endless failure...and we are
but a current iteration,
here for now -- like all,
in constant flux,
defeated by the merest things.

Courage and nobility derived
from continued confrontation,
continued endless struggle,
let us "show an affirming flame."

Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore | Year Posted 2014