Introducing: Carl Fraser & Poet Destroyer
Oh Paint me a far away horizon
Across a tranquil azure sea,
Where sits a peaceful deserted island
Where no one lives but me
Free from prying eyes and greedy lies
Free from scars that never heal
Let me be free to just be me
Instead of someone who isn't real
To live out my days giving thanks and praise
To my creator in heaven above
And leave behind the noise of worldly toys
And just bask daily in his love
To be stripped of pain by the spirits rain
And washed until my robes are clean
For I've had enough of my fellowman's company
And I'm disgusted by what I've seen
So I will step into my painted horizon
Framed in a forever state of bliss
And I turn back only for a fading glimpse
As I blow the world a farewell kiss.
Laced by the seas we see, you beg for a life so far
Far from all I've dreamed of, tranquil and spirit rain
A once false painted paradise,
Bliss, a farewell kiss, drowned by old heartache
Not knowing where it's coming from
Yesterday, I woke up to a new skyline,
The horizon, formed by your eyes,
Across a tranquil azure sea
Far from all existing companies, you stood
In front of the ocean - your ocean!
Sailing on the calm side of the turquoise sea
Stripping back into the innocence you once were
A gentleman, caressing the oats in a peaceful state
The moon breaking your once trusted mind
The silence of heaven heals every scar inside
Redemption is a secret we beg for
It was always you, someone lost, misguided by love
Somebody, I once dreamt of, A dream lost out at sea
Calling out for me --- you chose to pray alone
Repelled by the world so cold, yet here I stand
Alone, on the other side of the farewell kiss
For you, I paint a faraway horizon of bliss, my friend
Waiting -Dreaming -Escaping --- In another lifetime
~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015
A poet enters a private sanctuary,
A sacred place where the imagination
Dwells with a mélange of emotions
Conceived by aesthetic beauty,
Often divine and esoteric in nature;
That comprehensive longing to
Express through common language
That which is so vitally uncommon.
Words that seek to form a bridge
Between intellectual abstract thought
And the world of the inarticulate.
A way to express the depth of sorrow
While having it become a cathartic
Release, thereby relating to others
In commiseration and heartfelt empathy.
Poetry has the ability to help, to heal.
To reach souls enduring that same pain
May be a blessed gift poetry genuinely
Offers in a nonintrusive manner, helping
Lonely souls know they are not alone.
No-one escapes the loving light poetry sheds.
It dwells inside each of us, realized or not.
It teaches with simplicity, expands the mind,
Ingratiates itself without any effort when
Expressed with forethought and integrity.
It may stir emotions from the most stoic.
Speech itself, lives and breathes, and is poetic.
Acquiesce to that silent voice inside which
prevails upon the heart to be released in verse.
Poetry may elevate our spirit with such intensity
To generate a feeling akin to euphoric bliss.
Poets, honored in past glory with the status of Kings,
Now dwell in a world often misunderstood by the
Masses too busy to take the time to regard its worth.
How fortunate for the insightful who appreciate and
Embrace the ageless, immortal soul poetry provides.
They are blessed and will give birth to future poets.
© Connie Marcum Wong
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2015
Lapis lazuli mines with wide blue eyes
bringing to mind precious stones and
caramel scones; innocent and wise -
Wondering, yet without surprise.
Staring down the universe, a challenge
in your look though you are young;
The earth made only nine revolutions
since you came out to see the sun.
Unguarded and arched, your brows
betray high wire tension; enough
to light up a hundred moons and warm
plump cheeks to cherry bubble gum.
Be not impatient to grow; you smell
of open grasshopper meadows
and firefly lighted lakeshore walks.
You’re a mother’s envy and pride.
Red lips! Your passion for life exists.
Scarlet, lipstick would be a surfeit -
Today as then till many summer’s been,
your spirit will always be free as the mist.
After: Portrait of Carol Nye Rhoades (Robinson) (1915)
For Debbie Guzzi's Challenge: Ten Pictures, Ten Poems, Ten Days - Painting No. 2
Kim Patrice Nunez
08 January 2016
Poem of the Week: January 10-16, 2016
Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2016
You didn’t notice my tears.
As you both kissed each other
like two lonely plungers
who just escaped from plumber’s solitary confinement,
your eyes open and wander up.
You didn’t look across that banquet hall
with my feet planted against wood polished tendencies.
Its creaks motioning time towards yellow-signal identity.
As my breath declares sudden death
against lake’s dripping reflections…
…you didn’t think to set your photo album on private.
wrapped in pretentious cloak
sewed in recycled fibers of “love”.
With ignorant enablers speaking chic-flick tongue,
“Oh My Gawd! I’m so happy for you! I wanna ovulate!”
As I, put my head down
returning to this moment in time,
I had to let my song…cry.
Lenny Williams begins to exude “cause I love you” chorus,
as I walk towards bar
sensing your seductive retinas
stroking against my Latin swagger.
Your ring finger
chained by 3 carat, naïve cut, diamond
motions an intense, streaking caress
against wine glass filled with Zinfandel sin.
Because you know I am your addiction.
Your diabetic lips never forgot
But, you didn’t notice my tears.
I wish you had.
For all this time, these tears
were of joyful splendor.
Because solace holds my hand
with candlelight warmth.
Slow dancing with my soul
in mystery Salsa sway.
While you stand on home plate,
holding your 2nd place trophy,
with 3 strikes against you.
A reminder that my heart,
was flexible enough
© Drake J. Eszes
Copyright © Drake Eszes | Year Posted 2011
I’m tired of knowing
That because of my race
Because of where I live
Because of my last name
I’m part of the band…
The children of a lesser God
I’m tired of knowing
That there is so much hate
That it can only escalate
Till someone presses the button
And we blow up in nuclear hate
Some of us are children…
Children of a lesser God
Labels and degrees
Religion no longer a balm
But something to cause harm
Human life of differing values
We mourn them differently
for some of them are children...
Children of a lesser God
How it must make God cry
When His children bleed and die
Unable to understand
That there is a grander plan
One of perfect harmony
In another place in time
He won’t be sitting at heaven’s gate
Asking for an ID
Or checking your nationality
He won’t see the color of your face
Or ask about your race
All He will want to know
Is if you let love grow
Did you live according to His will?
Did you try to relieve suffering and pain?
Were you the bandage of peace
that bound up the wounds of hate?
First, second, third world people
Are all children of one God
Though some may disagree
I ask you all to see
That we are all
Every single one of us...
Children of the Greatest God.
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2013
I do have purpose
that stays near
a constant reminder
of my inner child
As my conscienceness
shines through to create
a new perspective
I break out of my cocoon
Only to discover that
I find places where
the sanctity of my being
does not flow as it should
My intuition is what
guides me though
there is no longer the
desire for the constant
upheaval of tragedy to strike
On my journey I have
discovered that there
are many hidden truths
So as my spirit ascends
I am inspired by my bravery...
If I am frightened
by the visibility that
standing proud does to me
then I shall stand even taller
No longer will I fear
the degradation that
once was my shadow
there is no home here
for the shame any longer
And I will no longer be
swayed by the fragments of defeat
When I become sorely tempted by
And I think I can't
make it on my own
I will remember that
I am walking this
road of life for me...
Copyright © Christine Wessels | Year Posted 2007
When I was a child I only ever wanted to be strong.
I wanted to be able to compete with the boys
and when I foot raced them at recess I won every time.
They called me ‘She Hulk’ because of my muscular frame
and from the way I only ever wore soccer t-shirts and sweat pants.
After that nickname was implanted into my brain like a growing weed,
I’ve only ever wanted to be feminine.
I started wearing skirts and dresses
and in middle school they shrieked at the site of my makeup and done up hair.
But that weed inside of my mind only grew, and grew, and grew
until I became a mixed drink cocktail
with one part anorexic and two parts lonely,
because I thought that the definition of feminine began with the word frail.
No one ever realizes how greatly words affect us,
how a simple nickname can turn a pretty girl into a skeleton.
I stood at five foot two weighing seventy nine pounds,
so cold and frozen,
yet I still considered myself a ‘She Hulk.’
You could see my ribcage through my t-shirt
and my spinal cord protruded loudly through my weathered skin,
as if somehow my bones were dirty knives
just trying to cut through the flesh of judgment.
As I grew older I became the girl that was never enough.
Not good enough to speak poetry.
Not good enough to lay paint on a canvas.
Not good enough.
Not tall enough.
Not big enough boobs for them.
Not primped to perfection.
Not undeniably straight.
Not smart enough.
Not dumb enough.
Not ditsy enough.
Not cool enough or fun enough.
And I began to believe, too, that I wasn’t enough.
I never told my mother that I had been in madly in love with a girl.
I never told anyone about the night we first kissed
because I was too vulnerable for the judgment.
And parents always justify saying that ‘kids will be kids’
But when we are kids our brains are still growing
and the smallest of seeds that get planted will one day bloom
into one giant regret,
will one day affect the choices that we make,
will one day influence us about the clothes that we wear,
will one day shape us into the person who we thought we would never be.
I only ever wanted to be strong,
and as a child I thought strength was only about being able
to lift a bar stool above your head.
I thought that strength was only about being able
to beat the boys in bare foot running races.
I was told that strength was something only
a man could have.
But as I’ve grown older I’ve realized that strength
isn’t about muscle at all,
but it’s about weakness,
and the ability to overcome the social anxiousness.
It’s about carrying around a lifetime of baggage
on your broken back
because the ones that kicked you when you were down
are going to be the ones that were ultimately wrong.
I thought that the definition of woman
began with the word disappointment.
And I became a mixed drink cocktail
with one part freedom
and two parts Sailor Jerry
because every girl needs a stiff drink once and awhile.
We are not disappointments.
We will never be the ones who gave up on hope.
We will never be the ones who gave up on each other,
or our mothers.
We will always be enough;
enough for the ones who shunned us
enough for the ones that cursed us
enough for the ones the hurt us
and destroyed us
and beat us when we were covered in bruises.
But you see, bruises fade
and the scars of our flesh are only stories
things we have overcame
and there are things out there that we will overcome.
When I was a child, I only ever wanted to be strong.
I hid my vulnerability.
I hid the parts of me that were true.
I never told my mother about my girlfriend
because I was afraid she wouldn’t understand,
kind of like all those people who never understood
just how much words effect us.
I can’t say that I can beat the boys at foot races anymore,
because, well, I smoke cigarettes now.
And I can’t say that the nickname of my childhood didn’t affect me.
But I take that name now and embrace it.
Because I am strong.
I am the ‘she hulk’.
I am a mixed drink cocktail
with three parts greatful.
Copyright © Katie Pukash | Year Posted 2013
When you are pushed, push back.
Who do you think you are!?
The only apology in this room is you!
I refuse to hold hands with your broken memories.
Falls unto 95 degree quicksand
I now use to cover your illiterate stanza.
Your insignificant breath used to layer
With seductive whisper
I siphon rejected wood chunks,
From your winterized shoulder
Igniting our bridge under Summer equinox
To hold you again tomorrow
I walk down melancholy roads
Just to hear smile’s exhale
Following Gene’s footsteps
Singing in my
For every judgment you made
Is every step I take
Every move I make
Towards rose colored stairways within
Your unseen heaven
He’ll be watching you
But rising in love
I do not
Want you encased in my cerebellum
You have become a preposition with no value
Without dependency’s fingertips
Upon my beautiful Spanish lips
Mi corazon no quieres a ti!
For my mirror, lunges true colors upon my sleeves
Forged hummingbirds unwrapping knotted Cloud 9s
Without a need for you
Without a need for you
The arrival of silence’s last stand
You will see the titanium on my hand
And your binary smile
Will evaporate unto your cracked Sapphire’s shell
As you wear my incipient exhales
Giving you hell
©Drake J. Eszes
Copyright © Drake Eszes | Year Posted 2013
A white dove flies gracefully across vision
Shines as transparent pieces of ivory joy
I give you a Candle of Love, for inspire and encourage you
Blown gently upon a soft warm lovely breeze
Falling slowly like a ripe apple
With sad confusion, I promise you heaven
Everything will fall into place and gives you, perfect pleasure of life
Love whispering on wings fluttering deep
It is possible to change your tomorrow, if you seek your dream today
To watch the light change i pray for your beauty to return
My arms are full of flowers, the beauty the unfathomable grace
Reborn under a promise of color inside the mist bouquet dream
Written by Liam Mcdaid & A-L Andresen :) 11.04.2015
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2015
With a loving heart,
filled with peace and harmony
In the afterbirth new life emerges
An eternal optimist in Spite of living
Starlight sparkles in this globe softly glistens
Everything seems to be perfectly normal
Gentle spirit refines where the thought is good
Dream you shine a warm sunbeam gift
We live for truth and justice sake
The numbered days and duration of happy feelings
A glimpses of human life takes shape
Golden delicious fruit of Eden
Happiness can not be conquered,
it must be openly received
A sun melting inside warm thoughts
Staring across the horizon clouds pearl white
My desires, my needs, my happiness
As fallen people with meaningless deeds
Dreamy cotton skies echo into one song
The ability to grasp facts of nature around us
Faraway mountains sailing yearns
Over the hills a warm thought in breeze blows
Starlight twinkles in the eyes of a dream
Coasting along on a deep blue sea wave kiss
Written by L. Mcdaid & A-L Andresen :) 25.08.2015
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2015
I hope your worries will end
and you'll suffer no wrath
Searching for the light
Even in the darkest times
No more tears or aching soul
Then you'll know not to worry
If only we could be happy forever
Be strong and brave keep on walking
Magic it seems
God sends His special angels
05.01.2016 A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
- Mother Mary is not my mother, but a friend's mother -
Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2016
this is the hour resting on the basin
of a sacred chalice awakened by crowns of stars
peeping then, swelling blue yellow...
while duskfall filters the shape of a world
kneeling on wooden pews and candles;
the winds touching the valley that knows
this is the hour… when the homage of many
an outstretched arms surrender
to the blazing wisps of a godly dawn,
of late twilight's hour ...
for this is the hour, lightened by stroked peace
offering the vessel of divine light
along primeval rivers, and earthen clay:
shadow to light light to shadow reaching
the final call as on this the hour,
a scented air bestows chaste stillness…
until one last remembering
when the gentle lamb of holiness
circles through an arched moment ,
while kindness of eyes bows unto this hour.
For Second Place Only ll Contest
Sponsor: Laura Loo Re-posted 7/9/2016
Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014
sad notes from a lonely oboe
coupled with uplifting melodies from a violin
concert penetrates my mind
connecting with my heart
eyes closed, a musical mantra flows
at last, one with the universal consciousness
new hope reborn
By Carolyn Devonshire
For Dr. Ram’s Music and Meditation Contest
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011
a picture of disaster
of Self pity
of little worth
on a cornflower blue background
and red brush strokes
put me on canvas
for all to see and
free wine and
will never be
isn’t for them
I am a masterpiece
Copyright © Melissa Gregg | Year Posted 2005
i put my hands together
confessing the days mistakes
and to wipe the slate clean
its by my faith you say im forgiven
i continue to be a sinning machine
I keep you locked up deep inside
so i dont give myself away
to blend in
i hide you from everyone i know
they have no clue i pray
but why am i afraid to show my true self
forced into playing their games
is it because of the ridicule that would follow
would they even call me names?
the transformation that takes hold
when my sinners "gameface" goes on
the lying and profanity gently flows
from the river of my mouth
but deep down
it's really just a con
i try hard to do and say the right things
so you wont be disapointed in me
but its so difficult for me to say " Darn-it "
rather than another word i could pick
from my vocabulary!
but thats what makes you all loving and true
you understand that we are not without sin
your love for mankind has always been there
we just have to let you in
i put my hands together
and ask for the courage
to unlock you
from a place deep within
Copyright © Kurt Kohls | Year Posted 2010
I want to write something that makes people say “I wish I wrote that”
I want to write something that gives the hopeless their hope back
I want to write stuff that Tupac would be happy to have on his notepad
I write for everyone who had a broke past
I write to cure heart-break
I hope my words offer light to those going through dark days
Good times are ahead even though they appear far away
Sometimes you have to get things the hard way
I’m writing for that girl who just got cheated on
Hope my words are a bandage to people who don’t know where they’re bleeding from
I’m writing for people who think their chances of succeeding’s gone
I write for those whose parents chose to lead them wrong
I write for those fighting discrimination
I only get offended when people give me limitations
Notorious B.I.G told me the sky is the limit
So I write till I’m out of ink or my pen is breaking
I write for those battling depression
I write for those struggling to see their reflection
I write for those who want to stand up tall
I write to inspire but I can’t please you all
My rhymes are far from perfect
But I’m honest in all of my verses
I’m trying to give worth to those who feel worthless
Because I was made to feel like I had no purpose
I’m not trying to save people
Just trying to offer a little help
I believe everyone should be made equal
Regardless of age, race, sex, looks or wealth
I hope my words will one day lead the blind
I hope my words encourage people to go against the system
That doesn’t mean to commit crimes
Just don’t be afraid to be different
I may not make a change in the world
But maybe I can help to take away the pain from a girl
Or offer a little guidance to a fatherless boy
I hope my words inspire, but I started writing to fill a void
Copyright © Alex Duffy | Year Posted 2014
Who would have known,
that such beautiful flowers,
could grow from a place of darkness?
Yet these flowers sprouted out of your pain and suffering.
I walk breathlessly through your garden,
inhaling the heady aroma.
I listen to words spoken,
feeling the gentle touch tickle my ears.
When I see the color of your dreams,
my heart celebrates your magnificence.
My rejuvinated spirit rises with your scent,
Still I am securely tethered by your roots.
You cradle me in delicate petals,
giving security to my soul.
I lay down upon your soil,
listening to your flowers whispering.
soaks into my skin.
Your essence lives within my pores.
There is a rhythm,
for you are organic,
subtle and bold.
You are both serene and demanding!
I am constantly surprised,
as you transform before my eyes.
You are my oasis of softness.
You are my place of comfort and renewal.
The rebirth of my joy,
a safe haven beyond life's storms.
Yours is a magical Garden,
blooming in all seasons.
I will tend to your garden,
removing the weeds,
watering and nurturing your seeds.
Let me luxuriate in your soil,
for I long to be your source of light.
Let me filter through your atmosphere.
For should I live a million years
Not once would I ever wish,
to leave your garden.
Dedicated to my Sweetie
Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015
He is the voice inside your heart
the one that makes you care
the voice that cries at injustices
when life becomes unfair
He is compassion deep within
that stirs and makes you feel
the hurt and pain and helplessness
of the suffering and grieved
He is your comfort in sadness felt
when you try to understand
the senseless emphasis on things
of insignificance to man
He is the love no one can cloak
the tears of joy you shed
the water that connects the souls
of both the living and the dead
He is the force that shielded you
that kept you safe from falling
the guide that won't leave you alone
until you hear his voice that's calling
The voice that says he's engraved inside
your heart and soul and mind
and he'll bring to you remembrances
if you but want to seek, you'll find
He is the voice you know exists
healing wounds of your life's story
The voice determined that you win
And be partaker of his glory
He is the peace who ends despair
the truth in you for cause to say
"My God! My God! I know you're here
for you shine to light the way
and blood once shed has cleansed my sins
My aged old mind has been set free
Father I do glorify thy name
for grace that reconciles through Christ in me"
And thus it is..the voice of hope
that enables you to stand
His reach is to the very core
His wisdom..the rebirth of the soul of man...
Copyright © Diana Mohammed | Year Posted 2012
And it flew higher,
Above the reach of arms which bind,
And logic which Past defined,
It flew higher,
Above the reach of stones of persectution,
And above all unkept resolution,
It pushed higher,
Past the thoughts of those who said It'd never be,
And success would never see,
And it flew until it reached the darkness in which
A blackness of the sullen mind,
And it said,
"I will rise above"...
Copyright © Ian Sylvester | Year Posted 2007
Poet Destroyer - Parades and Carnivals
Soft feathers gather up with color
On the wind to play as friends
They come floating first above the boulevard
Kind thoughts there elevate, somewhere between the innocence
Trumpets, drums and violins come thumping on the street
Poet Destroyer is there to keep the peace
Hiding in disguise as Linda
She jumps up one thousand feet and lands
Right in the heart of Poetry Soup with marching bands
Flutes come alive while she eats fire
Catching knives between her teeth, and bullets just for fun
While petting hungry tigers, yawning all the while
Parades fill in the rest of life with yellows reds and peach designs
When PD comes marching down the streets all smiles
She wakes up, takes on greater feats
Casting royal colors in purples, gold and lavenders
Announcing the start of carnival
Trusted, serene, sweet dreams and memories
She speaks of dragons flying by her side in times gone by
But today, arise!... carnivals, parades, and dancing happy feet
Bad memories sink out of sight
Diabolical forces, hard matters, enemies of play
Will have to gravitate their weight some other day
No draconian measures or moments here
PD has come to host parades and gaiety
Delicious love and fun gather up the sun
You can certainly feel the warmth
Rising lighter than the feathers to tickle everyone
Linda jumps again and does it just for fun
Created on 12/04/14 for - Fighting Depression (poems for PD) - Poetry Contest
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014
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
Its whispering gentle
through breeze to leaves
rustling each to a frenzied clamor
Can you hear the heightened sound?
Inaudible then so loud...so Loud!!
So loud you cant hear at all
As the days slip past do you
stop and listen?
Aptitude resides in minds...hiding in wait
as a coiled snake rearing to strike
A glimpse...a flash...a window we passed
our sight steering down a narrow hall
life carrying our feet too fast to see...
to left or right in brilliant hues
So vibrant and lively, ideas hiding in wait
Can you see them in the passing panes?
A moment of brilliance lays dormant
awaiting your attentive audience
Outside stimuli grows so rapid
numbing our minds of freedom
processing the intake derails a train of thought
A locomotive whose motive is motivation
Rumbling on tracks reverbing through your soul
Can you feel the power surge in your veins?
raising hairs with the electricity of knowing...
...knowing an idea tingles with possibility?
crawling below the surface of skin
Itching for pores to release it
Sweetly epiphany drips of honey
cooing with a flavor we seldom devour
To settle for dreaming is to savor bittersweet
repression attacks the tongue so sour
Can you taste the food for thought?
A peach drizzling juicy images with clarity
sating the tongue, these dulcet revelations
In realization the scent of lilac spring lingers...
fresh and intoxicating with the nectar of creativity
Wafting through with pleasing achievement
swirls of petals and spice compound a nasal euphoria
Yet in squandering ability lays the stench of rot
Reaking strong of regret this stagnating refuse
overpowers with the odor of inhibition
Can you smell the promise of flowers blooming?
in spite of doubt using rubbish for compost
Emitting a fragrance of intense talent
Copyright © Steve Voorhees | Year Posted 2009
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
by the dangling sway,
moss-green ribbons of waving kelp,
is the dark murk
of unknown depths.
Then the wind
arousing your sail and
it swells into life
and draws you towards home.
Copyright © Rickie Elpusan | Year Posted 2005
Before my soul reach's the sky.
On earth, i would climb beyond to the peak of success.
Reaching beyond the reach of my physical stretch.
Before my soul reaches the sky,victory will win the look of my face and place in my hand the torch of accomplishment.The streets i walked on will memorize my foot steps in gold.
Warm memories, left in the time of cold.
Before my soul reaches the sky,my desires and dreams fulfilled will unleash from a ruby chess,beams of contentment.
Tokens of joy left behind to be spent in memories.
In the golden places of their heart they will remember me.
Before my soul reaches the sky,i will solve the mysteries of life,but after all one mystery unsolved.
That i will solve when my soul reaches the sky.
Copyright © Elliott Bowe THe DrUnKeN POeT | Year Posted 2012
Evening smiles at lovers
Above the sparking
Waters of Venice.
I long for you..
Moments spent lingering
Underneath its entwined castles.
If you wait...
Amber leaves swirl
Leaving vivid afternoons
Alive with romance and
..Someday, I will come
Illuminate a thousand
As the rarest jewels.
To tell you that...
Slow dancing in the
--I love you.
Copyright © Varise Duxbury | Year Posted 2007
Death--- the last sleep? No the final awakening.
I am merely a thousand of winds that blow.
You will see me in the winter’s snow,
a glinting diamond glow.
Fleeting sunlight, I will become
that lingers and glows on the grain.
I will soon become the gentle autumn’s rain
that washes away your sorrow.
I will meet you a gentle rush in
the sweet mornings hush.
I will live on and not sleep
for I will not die.
In the night when you feel alone
I will not be gone for I will become
the soft night stars glow.
For I will continue on to a plane
beyond the windowpane.
You should not weep for I do
For I shall not die but live on till
we meet once more.
This is not about me so no concerns this is for a friend.
Copyright © Peggy Bertrand | Year Posted 2007
Don't fall through the cracks,
through the floorboards
past the pipes
hot water hissing
grey metallic stun gun dull.
Don't land on the basement steps,
slipping on down
bumping the back bone
breaking the fall
with your body gone white like you know it so well.
Don't let the swallow of house
and of home
Don't wish the outside
would stop looking in
and impute ugly motives
to trees and to flowers
who have your best interest
in chlorophyll hearts.
Don't taste the floors
on your way down to hiding
Don't dine on splinters
and varnish and wine
Don't master silence
when no one is looking
Don't close your eyes
and pretend you are fine.
Don't slip on sentences
you uttered years ago
down in the basement
Don't waste your sentiments
or your existence
on hiding the fact
that you are
what you're not
Don't laugh at paintings
with eyes that console you
on walls that you hung
last July on a whim
Don't think the walls
don't expect you
to call them
if you are in trouble
and losing your color from somewhere within
Don't apply pressure
to fissures in floorboards
to fit your way through
what you lose
It's a lot stronger
to stand and absorb it-
surroundings adore you,
implore you to chose.
Copyright © Tatyana Carney | Year Posted 2006
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,
Copyright © William Masonis | Year Posted 2007
You are so much more than your hips or your thighs.
More than the stares and the glares, or some young man’s lies
BUT YOU HAVE TO KNOW YOUR WORTH
More stunning than the Mona Lisa
Your likeness can’t be molded into sculpture
you are living, breathing art.
You are not defined by your body,
Only your soul and your heart
BUT YOU HAVE TO KNOW YOUR WORTH
When you look in the mirror, please see more than your reflection.
See the essence of beauty
a work of perfection.
You are the inheritance of the promise.
You are the covenant unbroken,
You are cries unheard
and words unspoken
BUT YOU HAVE TO KNOW YOUR WORTH.
You are much more radiant than the stars
you are breathtaking constellations
You are a valley of virtue.
A Lady in waiting
You are shores of compassion surrounding oceans of faith
You are the much needed cool, caressing breeze, on a hot summer’s day.
You are the eighth, ninth, and tenth wonder of the world
Much more precious than diamonds and pearls
BUT YOU HAVE TO KNOW YOUR WORTH
You are more mystifying than the pyramids of Egypt,
More spectacular than snow caped peeks of Sweden
Your presence was predestined in the Garden of Eden.
BUT YOU HAVE TO KNOW YOUR WORTH
You are the silver lining stretching across the sky,
Broadened with truth, both gentle and meek
You are the earth’s horizon where land and sky meet.
You are a Queen, and upon your head you bare a crown
Adorned in wisdom, courage and strength
A most magnificent gift of GOD,
you are truly heaven-sent
But you have to know your worth
Copyright © ChiquitaChiamaka Baity | Year Posted 2012
The limbs of the tree are now cold and barren
as they reach up into the sky above
searching for what was lost,
as the playful, fallen leaves are now gone,
taken away with the winds of time.
Nothing but a gray cloudiness
overtakes the skies
the warm sunlight disappears
more and more each day
as the darkness closes in.
Frigid winds come down from the North,
bringing with them a reckless abandon
with no care for the warmth
of the human heart.
Cold raindrops evolve into icy snowflakes
that fall for miles
before they reach the earth
and are caught by the barren arms of the tree.
The world is now silent in the grace of wintertime.
A stubborn chill surrounds the human heart
trying to instill itself into every chamber
yet, it cannot end the beating drum
when there is a song of happiness
dwelling there forevermore.
Some days the sun still shines,
yet, it changes nothing
the warmth lingers somewhere else,
until the sun decides to stay
a little more each day.
Eventually, the warm-hearted will melt
away the frost around them.
The frozen ice will begin to thaw and disappear,
soon a small crack forms, and spreads across
separating the ice
where a trickle of water is finally free to flow
out into the warmth of springtime.
And the world comes back to life,
re-awakening and reborn again.
Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014