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Introspection Wife Poems | Introspection Poems About Wife

These Introspection Wife poems are examples of Introspection poems about Wife. These are the best examples of Introspection Wife poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | ABC | |

AlphaBet Constructs 3 2 1

Alphabet Constructs 3 2 1

Annotated Achilles amends fallen frame amputees

Bulimec Barbies browse media monkey banalaties

Cameo clouds cling to beaded breath curios

Dopamine dreams dilenate check cash desires

Echo endorfins eulogize bullet brain excrement

Fecal folly fantasies reveal relevant frivoloties

Gonadial grownups gulp secret scrotal generosities

Helical hemorriods hinder senior stricken hemocraps

Idiotic ideals idioiosyncrate post partem iconoclasts

Jack Jill juxtapositories seek sexestential jouveniers

Kryptic killer kisses ascot arrogant kingdumbs

Liquid lipid loiners fear frontline lucklullibies

Malovent mommies masterbate rich reflective mommocules

Nevertheless nightengales nourich ruby rich noonbeams

Ovulatory occults outsource torrent tofu outrages

Pensive picses picnics lovelorny passions 

Queer quiet quintensials release rancid quotients

Rape ripe residuals nullify nimble reprocussions

Silky seafoam silohouttes fornicate frothy sandlets

Tepid torch trilogies belie beligerent tourniquets

Useless utterences utilize organize orgasmic utopias

Venimous vixens violate cruel.com visions

White willow wombs softly seed hospice hell winds

XY XX xfactors envision extracurricular xraydoms

Yearning yoyo yesterdays calculate clearcovert yeilds

Zen zealous zions mirror maginfy Zoneotones 

Copyright © Dave Collins | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Elephant Leg

There’s a part of you 
I cannot see or touch.  

In the dark, alone, I know 
every curve of your body.  
I could sculpt you from memory.  
Each detail vivid in 
my mind’s eye.  

The baby nail on your baby toe.  
This neck that takes to kissing.  
I know the moment when your 
hip becomes belly.  
Just there.  

But there’s a part of you I 
cannot see or touch.  Hidden, I want to 
know it all the more.  
Behind your eyes, inside 
your heart, that essential 
you, separate from this 
fragile tissue hanging, draped, over bone.  

I watch you move when 
you’re not looking.  
Standing, your toes curling.  
Twisting the end of your hair while thinking.  
Asleep, I know your breathing.  
You hold the morning cup like a chalice.  
Little lines around your eyes deepen sometimes.  

These things are pieces of a whole I ache to know.
This elephant leg obscured by sightless eyes can 
be anything.  Groping blindly toward
the totality of you, revealed in fits and starts.

This life of mine no longer turned inward.
Every day I have new discoveries to make.

Copyright © Sander Wolff | Year Posted 2007

Details | Narrative | |

Death Of The Saints

A cousin called the other day saying "Another cousin has passed away".

Well my husband said "How old was she.""

"Ninety-eight".

A stalwart woman who had served family and community well. Producing one child that 
became a missionary serving in a foreign land..

While talking the cousin asked "Did you know ______"?

My husband answered, "Well, I don't think that I knew them".

The cousin proceeded to tale this story.

"The man had been down with cancer for a while and passed recently..The funeral had been 
conducted and the hearse had gone on to the cemetary..The family car with the family was 
not to far behind..But when it pulled up, the wife of the deceased did not get out and the 
funeral home staff was gathering around..The funeral home director decided to go see what 
was going on ...."

The cousin said, " That this funeral home director told him". "That he had been in this 
business for thirty-five years and faced something that he had never had happen to him or 
any other funeral home director that he knew."

The funeral home director said, "When I got to the family car, I found the wife of the 
deceased had passed from a massive corornary."

She had said, "I don't know how I will live without him." She didn't have to learn. God called 
her home..

The roosters crow, the crows craw and are answered by the gobble of the turkey across the 
way..

Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme | |

Forgiveness

Forgiveness
       by Amy Swanson   12/2008



I know that I'm not perfect
     make mistakes from time to time
but the largest err I've made was
      not forgiving you this time.


You're the one that always
      makes a smile out of my frown
Emotions, though, got in the way;
       I fear I've let you down.


I hid my heart so selfishly
       and distant, from your view
I could not bear to hurt again
        and so, stayed mad at you


I let myself forget the good
        and happy things we were
instead I've been so negative,
        our memories a blur.


I thought no longer you recalled
        the pleasance of our youth,
had traded years of loyalty
        with new and bitter truth,


But yesterday you smiled at me -
        I saw within your eyes
 A spark that was meant just for me,
        there would be no goodbyes


And then we laughed, you held my hand
         and gave my lips your kiss.
We talked about so many things,
         a long-due reminisce


I felt I'd found you once again
          my hero, my best friend;
Whatever this world throws at us,
          together, we'll transcend.


The life we share means more to me
           Than old misunderstandings
I won't subject our love, our trust,
            to childish meanderings.


Once you broke my heart,
         But also I've hurt you...
So please, forgive my foolishness;
         And I'll forgive yours too.

Copyright © Amy Swanson | Year Posted 2008

Details | Rhyme | |

Threads

Did you ever wonder how things work in your head
How every thought you ever think is connected by a thread
Sometimes it’s just a little thing then somehow you are led
To something unrelated to something they just said

Let me illustrate - - -

My wife asked about the weather
And I thought, yea, I’m cold
I should get a sweater
Then I thought all mine were old
Then thinking about my closet
I thought about my shoes
Thinking they need polish
What color should I choose
But thinking about colors
I like the color green
Green makes me think of summer
And the places that I’ve seen
Then thinking about vacations
I thought about this cruise
That I took with my sister
Then I thought about the booze
And how much that had cost us
But what a time we had
Then I thought how much I missed her
And how that made me sad
And thinking about sadness
Made me think of winter blahs
So instead of a quick answer
I just sort of pause
And then I said I missed her
My wife just stood there blinking
She said that’s not what I asked you
My Lord, what are you thinking
There was no use my explaining
How I got to what I said
That somehow it’s connected
By one single little thread
So I just said I’m sorry
What were you saying hon
But she had this look of wonder
Her own thoughts had just begun

Mdailey	2/2/12

1st place in contest

Copyright © mike dailey | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

Elevators: 5 Horsemen

Part 1

Onion

the delicacy of friendship

I found you in the flowers
Standing tall we become one
Looking down from gangly towers
Squash, you burn, you pillage, son.

Follow me you say in tongues
Thy shallow mind reveal me tell
Whisper lies clean load the guns
I feel the burn I rot in hell

Friend folly menacing the liar
I loathe this coffin how it leaks
Dear foe you raped me set on fire
The onion peal itself and weeps

Part 2

Traitor

dear monkey boy

Older eyes eat themselves,
glance and kill the other
Unified in the dance,
they steer the musty rudder.

Pained and sweeter deeper wells,
poised buckets drunk with water.
Singled out the one that dried,
handed weights to pull him under.

Wiser times capture the mind,
death justifies dishonor.
Knife slice neat through the devil's back,
who stares blank and milks the udder.

Part 3

Tempest

patron saint

Inside this box
Goodbye tempestuous fall
My puppet of steel coiled thread
Smashed buttons and twisted dread,
Alarm these doors, and
Escape this delusive bunker bed

Stamp the spiders
Thief, vulture of the deflection
The mocking patron of the sinners
Erase this affliction
Relating inward at the reflection

Rise you fool

Part 4

Phoenix

i love you

close the grip
cinched hematic grip
drenched, clawing
seeking the sheave
becoming the counterweight

i absorb, now
extracting the heat
rise like a phoenix
away to be gone to be free
fix me! i have fixed me

i am alive and i love you

Part 5

Aye, Damager

Abolish her state of disrepair
Scattered, spattered drippy thoughts
All around this box of soused leaves
Soak, ferment in the faith of our love

I can't fix this, you know
I loathe this misunderstanding
Of what I am speaking, projecting
To me, Aye Damager, to you

This devil in me
turned and twisted
A wrecked elevator in rejection
Years locked painfully aware

...

Copyright © T.R. Sevrens | Year Posted 2005

Details | Rhyme | |

Please don't let me do this !

     There might be
                    no returning
                                    once I've kissed another
     
     Don't make me create
                   a decision like this,

because temptation is all around

                   women tapping my arm
                                    in the crowd,

                   of horned legs
                                    lit cigs,
                                    hips, tits, and ass
                   and where are You?

                   doing the same?  (I know)

                    Seems unnatural
                                   but nearly habitual -
      
                                   A sort of Peacock  -  Rooster ritual
     Don't tell me
                                   to hold them
                                                              around by the waist

     (thinking of you all the while leaves such a bad taste)

     I my beer soaked untrue
                                      mouth,

     evaporation temptation
                                with red hot moves

                                      down south,

     Please re - consider

     and I'll meet you for coffee
                                         instead,

     Please call me
          and reassure my caffineated

           screwed up head 
                                                (don't let me do this)...

Copyright © Mark Riedel | Year Posted 2006

Details | Free verse | |

I Knew

There was a moment when
I knew.  
I knew when you played me 
The Proclaimers.
When you woke in terror, 
pacing and pale,
I knew.
When I fell asleep, and felt 
your hand on mine, 
I knew.
It was when I saw your pain, and
saw your heart begin to heal.
I knew when you sent me an email saying,
“I missed  you at the party.”
I knew when you spoke softly,
revealing regrets, doubts, and
hopes. 
When I saw the look of shock on your face
as the kite string slipped from your fingers,
I knew.
When you smiled at your daughter,
I knew.
You shared a poem with me,
and I knew. 
From the first moment I saw you,
I knew. 
I knew that I loved you in all your aspects,
and knew that I’d cherish every moment
we share together. 
I knew that my love for you 
would be renewed in each moment,
and that I’d discover the depth and breadth of you
every day, anew.  
I knew.

Copyright © Sander Wolff | Year Posted 2007

Details | Rhyme | |

How Many Mornings

     will I awaken
               tears?
     struggling, uncomfortably
                          adjusting to fears:

               change - stagnation breeding boredom
               acceptance - realization that it's over
                Self - knowledge that I must face
                truth - she's found another lover....

        discheveled droopy drawers
               howling down on all fours,

         drinking
  under table,
         walking
  though unable,      I

vanish
                                  in the wind.

Symbols of the ways
  that I have wrongly sinned,

Against my inner portrait
  Image with no mirror,

A painted picture of the soul:
  UNDESIRABLY SUPERIOR

         to the one you primp
                      and pose for,
         for vanity's sake:
                                      take yr daily dose
                                      of annihilistic rape!

Yr outer - woven
                 cloven hoofs
                                     are worn and swollen

Better take yr beauty sleep
  before Time has it stolen...

So wash yr guilty 
   wants with lie,
and scrub yr yellowish heel,

rinse yr drydrunk unconscious

and tip-toe at the wheel,

weave in
             out the traffic
and push the pedals hard,

to erase the dividing lines from memory

without a spoken word...

Copyright © Mark Riedel | Year Posted 2006

Details | Free verse | |

Essence Of Her Human Spirit.

Her song carried out in sweetest rapture notes so pellucid
Breathe of them in listened serenity…

Her eyes show the portrait of what truly exists within
A subject of assiduous study…

Bearing witness her ears chronicle every touch of moment
Append her the whisper of ardor…

Those thoughts build stairs to the threshold of her mind
Scale its heights with pure intent…

One unsullied heart in pash heated spirit given to me freely
Held amorously it becomes my own…

I enter her arms into the gateway of tender adoration
Where I sleep safely in serenities peace…

Copyright © Charles Fuller | Year Posted 2007

Details | Free verse | |

My Goal-My Love

Since you and I met
My goal has been 
           To be all I can be
                   For you
In order to achieve this goal
I turned to the Lord 
        For guidance
Without you I’m nothing
       A lonely ship in a crowded harbor
     An empty hull creaking with the tide
Without the Lord I’m unworthy
              Just an empty soul
Unable to satisfy an unquenchable thirst
Since you and the Lord entered my life
I have changed in every way
I have learned
      Everyday is a gift
              Every gift is a treasure
   Every treasure should be cherished
This is why I cherish and I adore you
I’m proud enough to lead our family
 Strong enough to keep us safe
                   Honest enough to admit my faults
                          Wise enough to realize I can’t do it alone 
                        Humble enough to follow the Lord
                   Faithful enough to always believe
             That the heart of a man belongs on his sleeve
I wear mine proudly and I always will
Tell the world of the Lady who taught me to feel
 

Copyright © Michael Jordan | Year Posted 2011

Details | Haiku | |

Bio in Short

It's been a good run
To the back side of sixty,
The short side of time.

First Hollywood kiss
Behind a pink crepe myrtle.
Thanks, Patsy Werner.

High school was okay.
Didn't help me to focus;
So, my mind wandered.

Surfed Bonzai Pipeline,
Big waves break into lava.
What made me do it?

Vietnam jungles.
I wondered why I was there.
America lost.

Smoking pot. Stereo.
Good fun in the seventies.
Psychedelics too.

And three wives later,
I finally found true love.
We're still together.

My destitute heart,
Saved by the sweetest angel.
I love you, Sandy.

Sooners are my team.
Most winning football program
In the Modern Era.

I am retired now.
But I have plenty to do.
Golf, primarily.

I've been writing more.
Perhaps I will write a book.
I have many tales.

I'd chase young girls; but,
Girls with a "grampa" fetish
Are so hard to find.

If I am lucky,
I will just drop dead one day.
With my peace of mind.

Yes, made a good run
To the back side of sixty,
The short side of time.

Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme | |

Our Mind Is The Devils Hiding Place

I asked my wife to stop living In a world that's just(me,me,me) So she could get a glimpse of a different world That she could never see For the first week or two it really seemed to take effect Then I began to notice something From that slight case of neglect One day her anger raged As if she was "hiding the devil inside" I guess there was no place left for him Inside of her to hide I reminded her of that attitude She was useing with a flare That was when she explode saying, "I don't F'ing care" My heart was pierced and my words Could no longer flow I was a passenger in the car So I had nowhere left to go The car went silent Not a single word was left to be said Though I sure had plenty words Bouncing around in my head Then she said "Why are we arguing? "I really hate fighting with you?" With a smile :o) I said "It's the devil" "And that's what he wants us to do!" As I sighed to release the anger That was brewing up inside I realized my heart was a sacred place Where the devil,just can't hide
Dannyboy Kearley:10-31-12

Copyright © Dan Kearley | Year Posted 2012

Details | I do not know? | |

WHO AM I BY NAME ALONE

I am God's child, first and forever I am known by many different titles, a daughter I am a wife I am a mother I am a grandmother I am a poet I am by several ways, known as a sister I am an acquaintance I am a loyal friend I am a stranger I am a cousin I am an Auntie I am a niece But who is this person, they all call "Denise?" She is a child to God She is a niece She is a cousin She is a stranger She is a loyal friend She is an acquaintance She is known to many, a sister She is a poet She is a grandmother She is a mother She is a wife She is known as a daughter to many She is everything, she'd ever dreamed her life to be.... She is happier than she ever imagined possible SHE IS "DENISE"

Copyright © Denise Hopkins | Year Posted 2013

Details | Alliteration | |

Cheater's Chair

A destructive dance indeed,
betwixt the two we bleed.
A bellowing, bloody abate,
this stale, seductive state.

Simple, senseless steeds,
jealous fires feed.
Perjuring petty plights,
demons do delight.

A crimson, cheaters chair,
awful angers air.
No trust, truth or taste,
wallowed wantons waste.

Envious, eager eyes,
rejoicing a wrathful rise.
Coveting, careless couth, 
yesteryear's eager  youth.

Copyright © Stacy Stiles | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

The Twenty-Mile Block Walk

I remember
It was the longest walk of my life
I was tired of running
Nothing really mattered anymore anyway
So I had a friend drive me down to Los Angeles 
So I could turn myself in at the Prison Gate
He dropped me off about a block away
I had stashed some things up inside of me
So I could come up once I hit the yard
So every step carried with it
A certain amount of physical pain
But nothing compared to the pain inside
As I walked I was thinking about my wife and kids
At least I was sparing them the sight
Of watching me get carried away in handcuffs
AGAIN
I was so tired
I hadn’t slept in days
And from Northern California where I lived
To the prison in Moreno Valley
Was about a 14 hr drive
But Harry and I were so spun out it took us a couple of days
Anyhow
I was walking along 
Empty as a grave waiting on a casket
Hollow as a tree full of termites
So sick of it all that I couldn’t wait to get into my cell
And I started thinking:

With each step along the way
Each has its own price to pay
All the things that I now feel
They have broke down my will
Turn myself in and get it done
These guards will know I’m spun
Is this how far my life has fell
Leave my family to go to hell
I really just wanted it all to end
Get out sooner if I turn myself in
Legs felt like million lbs. weights
20-mile block to reach that gate
With each step desperation grew
Because my very soul was torn into
Just keep on walking and get it done
Jesus Christ fool turn around and run
I knew the guards, which was no surprise
Hell we’d spent years telling each other lies 
Final thought of my walk that day
Last time I’m going out this way
Funny, the end of one walk is where another begins
Thats why as I stepped through the gate I had to grin

Written for Constance's contest. This walk
from my friends truck to the Prison gate
was about half a block but seemed like an
eternity. My wife and Parole Officer together
talked me into turning myself in. In short, that
walked sucked really bad, never again! God Bless
mj

Copyright © Michael Jordan | Year Posted 2009

Details | Dramatic Verse | |

The Wedding

Sometimes things are up,
And sometimes they are down,
Sometimes black is white, 
And sometimes it is brown.
All the rivers flowing,
Back to the sacred sea,
All the monkeys climbing,
Up the very same tree.
You think you know a lot,
Think you know it all,
But the autumn leaves are falling,
At the north wind's lonely call.
The thinking of the meaning,
The reasons lost and gone,
At last the place is ready, 
A vacant holy throne.
The emptiness that fill you,
Fills you from inside,
Is the treasure you are holding,
The bridegroom's holy bride.
And now the north wind's blowing,
Blowing down the Way,
And now we sit here waiting,
For the bridegroom's wedding day.

more at http://labyrinthoflies.com

Copyright © ness tillson | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

A Box of Hope and Dreams

I keep my dreams and aspirations,
stored away neatly in this box.
Tied off with a pretty pink ribbon,
secured tightly with key and lock.

And every time I feel like a failure,
I open it, so I can again feel alive.
Arms of dreams tightly surround me,
giving me strength I need to survive.

I’ve hidden this box in a secret place,
where I’m the only who can see.
A beautiful box of hopes and dreams,
finely sewn with love at the seams.

This box is opened quite frequently,
especially when we’re apart –
this rhetorical box of memories,
in perfect synch with each beat of my heart

Copyright © Stacy Stiles | Year Posted 2012

Details | I do not know? | |

The Women



The Women



(for the countless women, names unknown, who bore the brunt of Apartheid, and who fought the racist system at great cost to themselves and their families, and for my mother, Zubeida Moolla)



Pregnant, your husband on the run,
your daughter, a child, a few years old,

they hauled you in, these brutish men,
into the bowels of Apartheid's racist hell.



They wanted information, you gave them nothing,
these savage men, who skin happened to be lighter,

and white was right in South Africa back then,

but, you did not cower, you stood resolute,

you, my mother, faced them down, their power,
their 'racial superiority', their taunts, their threats.



You, my mother, would not, could not break,

You stood firm, you stood tall.

You, like the countless mothers did not break, did not fall.



You told me many things, of the pains, the struggles,

the scraping for scraps, the desolation of separation
from your beloved Tasneem and your beloved Azad,

my elder sister and brother, whom I could not grow
up with, your beloved children separated by time, by place,

by monstrous Apartheid, by brutish men,
whose skin just happened to be lighter.



You told me many things, as I grew older,
of the years in exile, of the winters that grew ever colder.

You were a fighter, for a just cause,
like countless other South African women,

you sacrificed much, you suffered the pangs,
of memories that cut into your bone, your marrow,

you resisted a system, an ideology, brutal and callous and narrow.



Yes, you lived to see freedom arrive, yet you suffered still,
a family torn apart, and struggling to rebuild a life,

all the while, nursing a void, that nothing could ever fill.



I salute you, mother, as I salute the nameless mothers,

the countless sisters, daughters, women of this land,
who fought, sacrificing it all for taking a moral stand.



I salute you, my mother, and though you have passed,
your body interred in your beloved South African soil,

you shall remain, within me, an ever-present reminder,

of the cost of freedom, the struggles, the hunger, the toil.


I salute you!



(for the brave women of South Africa, of all colours,
who fought against racial discrimination and Apartheid)





Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

I'm Not the Kind of Person God Wants Me to Be

I’m not the kind of person I need to be! There’s too many problems inside of me! I’m not the kind of person you’d want to know… I’ve too many worries and a troubled soul! I’m the kind of person who has a lot of stress! Lately, my life has been one big mess! I’m the kind of person who doesn’t have a friend. You listen to me now… But may never see me again! I’m the kind of person who’s gone through pain! I wake up some days, and don’t even know my name! I may not be the kind of person you’d want to be around. I may get discouraged, and “get you down.” I’m the kind of person who’s giving Jesus a chance… I know he loves me! Whatever the circumstance! I’m the kind of person who needs a lot of prayer! I know that God listens! And is always there! Please help me Jesus! That I may be set free! May it be your love that others will see! Thank you Jesus! For being my savior and friend! You’re someone that this person can always depend! I’m not the kind of person that Jesus wants me to be! That’s why I need more of HIM! And LESS of me! By Jim Pemberton

Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rondeau Redouble | |

Goodbye Johnny Walker

Goodbye Johnny Walker
Joanna Davis


I swear I’m in a nightmare,
I know it’s some bad dream
This craving for the deadly juice,
Is nothing new it seems
Our life is one long quarrel, 
A battle no one can win
Am I paying a kind of penance,
For some past life of sin?
I won’t put up with this forever,
The smell or wavering gait
If I stay with you much longer,
I’ll surely be tempting my fate
A soul that’s soaked with liquor,
With breath to ignite a match
But your handsome looks so deceiving,
I naively believed you a catch!
You’ll promise it’s the last time,
Say you’re done… that it’s the end!
But in me you see a nagging wife,
While in the bottle - a comforting friend
Tell me exactly how, I can win,
Or compete with something so pure?
What kind of psychological jargon,
Would even up the score?
This demon is so elusive,
Someone, somewhere, please advise me,
What spirits will finally convince you,
To seek your desired sobriety!


Copyright © jo davis | Year Posted 2011

Details | I do not know? | |

The Nameless - for South Africans of all colours who fought for freedom


The Nameless


Slipping through the sieve of history,

the nameless rest.

Not for the nameless are roads renamed, nor monuments built.

Not for the nameless are songs sung, nor ink spilled.

The nameless rest.

Their silent sacrifice,

quiet ordeal,

muted trauma,

remain interred,

amongst their remains.

The nameless rest.

Not for the nameless are doctorates conferred, nor eulogies recited.

Not for the nameless are honours bestowed, nor homages directed.

The nameless rest.

They rest within us,

they walk with us,

in every step that we tread.

They rest within us,

they walk with us,

for their spirit is not dead.


“Your name is unknown, your deed is immortal”
- inscription at The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier WWII in Moscow


Special thanks to my dearest elder sister Tasneem Nobandla Moolla, whose conversations with me about life as a non-white person growing up in pre and post-Apartheid South Africa prompted me to write this dedication to the countless, nameless South Africans of every colour, whose sacrifices and dedication in the struggle against Apartheid tyranny must never be forgotten.


My sister’s middle name ‘Nobandla’ which is an isiXhosa name and means “she who is of the people” was given by her godfather, Nelson Mandela, my father’s ‘best-man who could not be, as Nelson Mandela was unable to-make it to my parent’s wedding as he was in jail at the time in the old Johannesburg Fort. This was the 31st December 1961.

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

America Is Being DESTROYED From Within

 

As sin and perversion often become integrated… So many lives and families are being “disintegrated.” Many are being driven by sin’s temptation force… It’s no wonder much of this country is way “off course.” The morality and values that once made a great nation. Are evaporating…. Leading to a “spiritual separation.” Love, honor, and respect of God… Is often a “thing of the past.” Anything of God seems to be disappearing FAST! God is our only hope! And him alone! Only he can bring healing to our broken homes! He’s the answer to this wounded nation, that bleeds! It’s only God that can meet all of our needs! He’s our provider… The great: “I am!” Won’t you reach out to him? And give him your hand? Why not give him a chance? And allow him in? A brand new life for you… Is waiting to begin! May we allow God’s holiness and love to reach down into our hearts… Asking; “Lord please forgive our sins!” Is a good place to start! By Jim Pemberton

Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2013

Details | Senryu | |

Never Let the Outsiders In

stop interlopers
cling to love's first memory
avoid nay sayers

Copyright © Brandee Augustus | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme | |

A Very Inviting Temptation

A Very Inviting Temptation! I remember of a particular situation. I was offered a very "inviting" temptation. The situation I was in... I didn't belong! And lost any sense of "right and wrong." At first... I felt no guilt or shame. And brought embarrassment to my family's name. I tried to explain this to my wife and kids. I heard; "Dad... please... no more fibs!" The Godly principles were "tossed to the side," As the sin inside caused arrogance and pride. Soon, all in my life that truly mattered... Was gone! My life was empty and shattered! I was sorry for all of the problems I caused! This time... I took a moment to pause. I cried to God to rescue me from my sin. I confessed! Would God help me once again? I read in the Bible of Jesus’ grace and love! This time the help I needed had to come from above! I asked him for a fresh and brand new start. He removed the stain from a broken heart. He restored to me the joy I once had. I'm so blessed! Jesus has made me glad! Jesus is the reason I'm here today! I LOVE HIM more than words can say! By Jim Pemberton

Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme | |

The Ugliness Of Divorce


My parents taught me the Christian ways.
I was taught to obey what the Bible says.

I was proud of my parents!  I really was!
And loved them so much…  Just because!

They meant everything to me!  I was proud!
Until one day...  There appeared “a dark cloud.”

It was like a “darkness” hovered above.
Leaving their marriage empty of needed love!

Though they were together many years.
There were many cracks that soon appeared.

I say a once happy home soon destroyed.
Being with one another….  They no longer enjoyed!

How could this happen! I had wondered…
To see a happy marriage “totally plundered

As sin crept in...  And allowed to prevail.
Very soon this marriage simply failed.

May this be a warning for me and you…
That our commitment remains faithful and true!

If your marriage is heading toward separation…
Please seek God for a healing and restoration!

If your planning to have a divorce..
Jesus’ love can put it on the right course!

He can replace the brokenness and hurt within..
And can put your lives back together AGAIN!

By Jim Pemberton

Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2012

Details | Haiku | |

What People Were and What People Are

People were
Many things.
Strange or not

People were
Different and
Odd and fun.

People were
Monsters but…
That’s not all

People were
And still are
Strange and odd.

People are
People. For
life is life. 

Yet not.
Not is lies.
Truth seeps from

Every mouth
Lies, lies, lies
Move, move, move

But somehow
Lies prevail.
Lies are life.

Lies are death.
Lies are homes.
Lies are pain.

Lies are truth.
Yet somehow.
Truth prevails.

Truth is life.
Truth is death.
Truth is home.

Truth is pain.
Truth is lie.
Truth is that.

Lies will die.
Lies will cease.
Nevermore.

Truth will live.
Truth will be.
Forever.

Copyright © Layla Elkoulily | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

never mirror marriage unrequited unplenty

Can u take boy me for what I am or do u need to fabricate an ego estrogen entity 
to fit yr fake *******. forum in twat time present and id absent intensity. Do tell howwhatwhatwherewhywhichwatkindhowmanywhose as I am of a different time place evo endeavor, rich in poor so u can take alternative advantage cause u feel infosexsuperior to me mine naked nill sense
with yr ****egg enhancedenvy and frivolous faulted agressive female fervunt. Tame the  delerious diametric dimensions aplenty. Pushed pussy pleasure and feel femimine fornunicatious prowess for yr undiscovered undenying  sadistic only offspring ongoince ocular pursuance negating all elses
in your precocious pretensious postal only psuedo friends that it can't be donated done
in an emoeffort with legs open charmed to a prone proficient practice promise
with giving gonad governance of which I bought into with a Florida filtered fragrance  forgiveness favoring your internal id odd ego conveance only inclination wishwashing countercontrol conscious cerebral crap.
to a wilfull wonderous female who was, as the saying goes,  
willing to give all of herself all to all of me, unbeknowingst to me that it was all a 

post pisces ruse  cancercase in point. pretensious pandering to a boy from Ohio to 
a pussimic promise that reads all to well and
I will liveloveu in always regard less of societal dis regar retard retro renderings; given real or predisposed, contrivent, or nonminent in neutral nature. I givegavegiven up my low life to serve u only u in spite of me and your upper crust crest to be u like u or one 
of u and to lovelittle unbeknowingst a latitude of 30 plus piss yrs and 3 glorious sons later gifted to u       I have only all un's for which to fathershow un     fornicatingly failed in every, according to u, every forgone fatherly catagory. Tminus and 8 yrs asa monk. Tell me who is the unGonad unpotential KING of living oin a monster mommo mode of ugly unforgiveness, un understandings of undeniable undertakings, make all all things admirable admissible,  yet received all doings undoing. When all of ones self is totaly given to a cause and mutual ego emotion is grounded in guilt laden lunicacy, all is love lost. Individual identity cannot exist withou self sense; so all that is left is  a ghost dead, 
showing no male prowess, nonexistenant, nothing, neverness in being. 
 If I were King with 3 great sons I would be a *****Prince, a Gonad God, a Semen Sentinel. Long live me? (No Queen intended.)

Copyright © Dave Collins | Year Posted 2014

Details | Crystalline | |

A Wedding Vow, Too

To be but also being too
To being two or to be one, too.

Copyright © Aron Jacob | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme | |

Healing Can Only Happen When the Pain Is Gone

Healing Can Only happen,
 When the Pain is Gone!

Healing can only happen, when the pain
 and damage are gone!
It can only come about, when there’s
 no “lists” of wrongs!

People need to move ahead, and put all
 of the past behind them!
And seek God’s forgiveness, 
so his grace can find ‘em!

Too many carry a load of sorrow
 and grief that they can’t afford!
They need to bring everything to Jesus,
 and make him their LORD!

How can we experience healing,
 if the suffering is still there?
How will we ever be able to love others,
 and truly care?

May we all seek the kind of healing,
 that only Christ can bring!
May we allow him to remove
 all pain and suffering!

Jesus…  We need your healing now!  More than ever before!
It is your love that we must learn
 to treasure and adore!

Please come now and refresh us with your awesome love!
The sweetness of your Holy Spirit, is a gift from above!

Thank you God!  The pain is gone and the healing has come!
All praise, glory and honor to Jesus!
 God’s anointed son!

By Jim Pemberton   10/19/13

Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2013