Welcome to my ----- life
A beautiful broken aura
The sound of yesterday
Shattered winter glass
Transcend to the unconscious mind
Frozen, dead, yet alive
Hell, escapes my future of eternal suffering
Tiny buttons of snow -fall to my feet
Firewood burns endlessly,
The hairs of her soft skin rise like wheat
Shadows by hand flip the hourglass
The possibility of change takes --- need
She stands on the outside of my dreams
Quietly she summons the cold legion
Confused, trying to cleanse her soul
She wipes off old fingerprints
White glitter, forgotten notes
Spiritual spells enhanced in a quiet villa
Shadows of hands toss the glow
Daydreaming inside another dream
Falling flakes in hopes of peace
A warm bedded cabin sits at ease
Observing, breathing, mind settling
Swirling into an earthy feel
Another long downward drift
Shadows of hands set the tide
She awakens, sharing the stars
She mocks the sun, her eyes sparkle
Covered in snow - aging peacefully
She fibers to soothe her soul
She reeks, neither heaven nor hell
Temporary punishment, rattling thoughts
Captured in a transparent globe
Passing through a purgatory world
No walls, no in between
Falling far from the echoes of life
Sacrificed by death before salvation
Transcending to the unconscious mind
Shattered winter glass
The sound of yesterday
A beautiful broken aura
Depart from my ----- life
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015
Different eyes, the same world
Ancient skin, dirty Indian Girl
Smokey, eyes, exotic raven hair
---Now listen to the colors, of transformation,
On the day she was born, the wind blew in,
A blessing ---her soul, fallen from the heavens
A gorgeous puff of smoke, Miss Virginia Slim
Able to walk the world with an open mind, she twirls
Pocahontas, one of her many names.
She carves, and climbs on trees, this little Indian Girl,
Her feathers ride with the wind, against her red titian skin
Daughter of Chief Powhatan, a powerful tribal, red man
Peace and love with the Indians of her Virginia Lands,
Many myths, many stories, maybe a mad woman,
A new Christian, living sad poverty, a silent hero,
Twisted tales, from savage green to ivory white religion
In her eyes, life never was about greed and skin
Her new look attained an altitude precision
Pocahontas tricked and captured,
Set to sail another tribe, lands were taken over,
Boat sailed out of Virginia Lands
Tribes acclaimed her to be wild and ambitious
"The naughty one," searching for admission
Native American child, before the princess,
Her beautiful soul, a short auspicious beginning
Leaving her world, beautiful and fearless
Forgetting her roots-- From Mother Willow's Vision
Pocahontas, the Indian Legend from, The Virginia Lands
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014
"Haiku of enlightenment"
a perceptive, world of green
mocking the land
summoned bird calls
tantra and morality
zestful garden----------------- in waiting
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014
When my final shadows cling on desperately
Where I fight formidable battles
to merely hold the light
I send you loving vibrations
and soul sustenance
Deep from the cathedral
of one heart to another
where today no choirs sing
nor symphonies play
Yet it is here where we meet
in spiritual solace
here to surrender
and exchange inestimable treasures
like unopened letters
Galaxies are stretched
over chronicles of shared history
Nebula birthing stars
will be exposed
in forth-coming conversations
bringing short-lived fulfillment to you
Hungry to feast
now will be the time
to approve your blood art vision
and with my own haunting surrender
as dappled shades ink stain your chest
I will reside with you and share, mesmerised
pens - by branding
as this will be your written reams to me
your artist's pallet or brushed canvas
no need for words
and yet creating
mysterious magical moments
Bitter-sweet the music
that dances taut guitar strings
but now blood approved
please go kick your heel up
return to your laughter
and ride on the breeze
for not all are lost
for I am with you always
to love, listen and comfort as one
with you in me and I in you
Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty | Year Posted 2013
The soul's forever—
As an eternal spirit.
Leaves this mortal coil . . .
Again to the spirit world
And home to Heaven’s Kingdom!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
Schoeningen, Germany (November 7, 2014)
(Tanka poetic format)
Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2014
As I start on a quest finding self,
I must look very deep in my soul.
Here I will not find books on a shelf,
That will help me get close to my goal.
Clear I see as a child I was free
Brought to church I was taught God to love.
Where I walk tranquil streams follow me,
Down a path that would lead to above.
Twas my goal never wander away,
For my heart and my soul lived for God.
I would fall on my knees where I’d pray,
Knowing he was my staff and my rod.
Then a storm raged one day at my door,
I was angry at life’s awful turn,
All my faith it just crashed to the floor,
Now my hate strongly started to burn.
Blaming God never came to my mind,
Just my doubt had spread turmoil in me,
Now this dark hole inside made me blind,
All this hate in me screamed set me free.
Welcomed back like the prodigal son,
Jesus kissed all my sorrows away,
Wiped the tears I had shed dried each one,
I am saved by his grace every day.
As I end now this quest finding self,
I’m at peace and my spirit is free.
All my sins just like dust on a shelf,
Free to fly with these wings God gave me.
Written by Brenda Meier-Hans
For Pendleton Arkwright’s Contest:
Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014
You don't have to kneel to pray,
Lye,sit or stand,just do it every day,
The presence of the Almighty is real,
Alleluia,alleluia,chant it until you feel,
When you feel Him,don't be afraid,
Don't be frighten,He came to make you brave,
The road of life,from birth to the grave,
Do you hear Him telling you,be no longer a slave,
Led by your environment,family,friends,plans and greed,
Take a spiritual stand,time for you to lead,
The road of life is slippery,don't slide down the drain,
Travel it wisely,what is gain without the pain,
The high-way is smooth but you have to pay the toll,
Take the by-pass,it might save your soul,
Don't be lead by evil,conquer evil with good,
Now hold the Almighty hands,live the life you should,,,,,
Copyright © Richard Palmer | Year Posted 2013
I wander in the nature’s green, trees in rows the birds preen
Like a gem glimmers the morning dew, with a precious diamond’s hue
And flowers bloom as I gaze anew, eggs hatch to welcome lives in queue
I can smell the wondrous earth, the distant flow of water in mirth
It’s a new dawn another day thereof, wherein I sense his breath of love.
As I prod on the old man smiles, he delivers milk by cycling miles
Passing the farmers sweet abode, the cry of new life reaches the road
A child wails by the neighbour’s door, with a sweet candy her eyes adore
Roaming the street is a hound grown, pups trailing behind unknown
A jocund street undreamed of, wherein I sense his breath of love.
My dearest rush out sighting me afar, without whom my life is a war
The tiny tots in their cradles lie, as we sing a lullaby
This is the world I am part of, wherein I sense his breath of love.
© (4 Feb '15)
* Honourable mention in the contest 'Enter a poem #1' by Poet Destroyer
Copyright © poesy relish | Year Posted 2015
I savor my precious, quantum bliss;
the vibration of the strings, echo Heaven’s kiss.
In parallel worlds, are parallel lives;
With them, I can identify.
I’ve passed through, many walls of stone;
through countless lives, I have roamed.
I’ve tasted every experience,
I found, that some, I still lament.
A molecular epiphany, I have received.
My life’s frustration, is appeased.
Pure energy, is what we are
and we can visit, every star.
Quantum souls are limitless;
join me and pursue your bliss.
Copyright © M. L. Kiser | Year Posted 2015
When it all happens inside yourself,
you're Jesus and Judas, Heaven and Hell,
a mental masturbation of solitary rhyme,
a dead leaf blown by a wildly, wicked wind,
gathering realization, a consciousness of dawn.
You've tipped the hourglass,
slowly and scarcely swimming the sands of time,
Heavy on fragile awareness.
Breathe deep the only petrichor
that you've constructed to carry you through.
There was only ever this moment.
There was only ever you,
standing amidst ancient ruins
praying for rain.
Let it rain....
Rain on me.
Copyright © Catie Lindsey | Year Posted 2016
Dedicated to my Dad Jerry W. Niday 3/20/1952 - 6/18/2013
I am who I am because of him
He’s the reason for my son’s name
He gave me my courage & my strength
To stand tall even when standing wasn’t easy
Stand for the ones who can’t
To think and fend for myself
I’m my Daddy made over
Taught me to fight back
To never back down
How to pick myself back up
When I’ve been knocked down
Fight for what I believe
I’m my Daddy made over
He gave me my stubbornness
Gave me my pride
Gave me my temper
Taught me not to take crap
To speak my mind no matter who
Work for what I want
I’m my Daddy made over
How to keep my emotions in check
How to handle large amounts of pain
When in trouble he always had my back
He knew how my mind worked better than anyone
I got it from him
I’m my Daddy made over
Even though he’s gone
I’ll stand and continue on
I may stumble I may fall
May even get hurt along the way
But I’ll pick myself back up
I’ll dust myself off and stand tall
I’m honored and proud to say
I’m my Daddy made over
Sabrina Niday Hansel
Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel | Year Posted 2013
I am the hypocritical Christian.
I say I follow Christ,
But I'm still consumed by my demons.
I go to church on Sunday,
But I refuse to invite someone back.
I want to serve on mission,
But I'm too afraid to act.
They think I read The Bible,
But I just fall asleep in it.
They think I'm positivity and smiles,
But underneath I'm death and addictions.
They think I'm clean and pure,
But I'm broken and mistaken.
I say I'm not worthy of His love,
But Jesus will never let me be forsaken.
I pray long prayers,
But inside they're empty repetition.
It might look as if my faith is strong,
But my core is too easily shaken.
I say the things I'm supposed to say,
But don't follow His actions or obey.
I speak the truth the church wants to hear,
But deep inside on matters I don't know what to believe.
I walk in shame as if I'm not good enough
To be loved by God and saved through Christ,
But there is nothing I could ever do to earn His peace;
It's a free gift.
Now forgiven, changed, and released.
Thank You God,
Thank You Jesus,
Thank You Holy Spirit!
In Jesus' Holy Name,
Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013
Her heartbeat echoes like a love moan in my mind,
summoning centuries of refined romanticism soulfully enshrined,
the contralto of her voice a fillatio upon the cock of my consciousness,
through her eyes I see that mystery is the Mistress of meaning beyond regress,
my manly mouth serenades & suckles the rosy pussy of her prophecy, homage cunnilingus,
revelations irresistible in their heretical invigorations excite our imaginations
as we fornicate a ferocious forsooth soothsaying love's reincarnations,
a vignette of virility forthcoming from fate's far side fortifications
presents a primal promise in paranormal inceptions,
Premonitions primitive in heart heat paint
streak the skin of our desire to design an indigenous heaven,
flesh tones warm fast and feral revealing a vitality of spirituality that tongues detonate,
the Univetse blooms into a Multiverse as she spreads her spell of star spice scintillation
onto my ripened body rendering her rites fertile in rich freight,
within the brain's wildfire I feel her unction,
Becoming the shaman of our secret skin ceremony
I invoke the spirit of solar youth into veinage voracious for passion's patronage,
sanctifying the unifying lust between the bodily and ghostly unlicensed liberty,
shadow temple of temptation gives offering of blood and song from astral page,
death dream extremes fire hot ejaculation of divine vindication into cosmogony
as she and I have won our now with a win over age,
My Love Muse is more than a woman
she is a savage seduction and a sacred sweetness,
a Goddess of her own Cause...a lover known as Poetess,
her name changes from lifetime to lifetime, yet she is always beauty shown -
Copyright © Justin Bordner | Year Posted 2014
--The opening of a new life--
Airborne smiles under a pessimistic cloud
Peaceful living memories, wiping every frown
Vibrant beams throughout the night
The outflow shadows cloud nine;
Scoot away from the pain,
Enjoy all eyes towards the gateway
An endless fate awaits
Maybe not today
Perhaps not tomorrow
Be Free * Live Happily
And just Believe--
--The Beginning of everything--
A Sweet Merry Christmas From: PD
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013
A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013
Community, what does it mean
And how does it come into being
Well what does the dictionary have to say
“A group of people living together in one place”
I guess that means were all in community
Though if I were to speak in honesty
It feels like we try to live separately
Living by the culture of our country
Which tells us, do it yourself
If your strong, you don’t ask for help
Life is about personal advancement
About money and accomplishments
Hold onto your hardships and pain
Keep striving for personal gain
So many lies deeply engrained
How will we create change?
Well I start with myself
I ask for help
I start with me
I be the change I want to see
I become an infectious contagion
In all of my relations
That could spread across a population
Even across the nations
I model my life after the master of love
Who dwells in the heavens above
He has brought millions even billions together
Over decades, centuries, even millenniums
So what else could be better
Than to faithfully follow him
He who said, I was anointed
to proclaim good news to the poor
to proclaim freedom for the prisoners
and recovery of sight for the blind,
to set the oppressed free”
and I say yeah that’s who I want to be
But unless I engage in community
Unless I get to know my fellow human beings
How can I help to set them free
So its time for me to put aside
Popular culture, foolish pride
Social codes, selfish ambitions
Old roads, and useless traditions
And blaze a brand new trail
With my life, write a new tale
Introduce a new theme
Add in a few more characters
And then dare to dream
About how my story could impact theirs
And their’s impact mine
Because maybe just, maybe
It might be better, might just be
Not to say, I did it on my own
All this, look I did it alone
No maybe it would be better
If we did it together
So that no matter what my lot
I can always know that I’ve got
Friends, right until the very end
Help, ready to be sent
Hands willing to be lent
So what need would I have for advancement
For money and accomplishment
I can find all that I need
Everything I seek from this life,
In relationship with fellow human beings
Community, Maybe this is what it means
Copyright © Roland Fleming | Year Posted 2013
God is always love
Forever seek the kingdom;
Praise the creator
Keep giving what you can give
Please endure until the end
Protecting the meek ones earth
Watching over us
Helping us to cope with life
Comforted with hope and trust
When you find rhythm
You find your hearts inner core
Celebrate the times
Make them better than before
Reminisce and dance all night
Copyright © humble b | Year Posted 2013
We knew , it was if a moment stopped in time
hearing the news before most of the World did
He loved to fly his plane from Colorado to Monterey Bay
He was a avid golfer at Pebble Beach respected
He had loves and passions from many places
deciding to fly low through the overcast red sunset
Not only did he love music and inspire all
He loved his Plane , he will always remain a beautiful Soul
The next day it was confirmed ..all saddened
It was John Denver's plane that went down
Today in Pacific Grove stands the Memorial
So Kiss me and smile for me we will ~
always in loving memory
OH babe , do we hate you go ~
Inspired by ; contest in Music and Loss of an Artist
"Leaving on a Jet Plane "
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
My divine manual and life prospectus is the Bible
my ways, a beautiful mirror sparkling like clean Marble
falsehood can’t colour my teeth
Jesus Christ is not a myth
the hope of eternal life, a conviction, not a gamble.
Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2016
Bob had been a lonely man ever since
His wife of fifty years had passed.
“Lord, let me join her.” he would pray.
“Let this day be my last.”
Each day, he went to the cemetery,
Just a short walk down the street.
After their talk, he would water her flowers
And hear passers-by whisper, “How sweet.”
One gray and misty morning,
He had hoped for sunnier skies
To plant fall bloomers at her graveside;
But, there, to his surprise…
Stood an old dog beside her stone;
Thin and dirty, but he struck a handsome pose.
He whined as Bob approached, as if to say,
“I could use a friend, you know.”
He sat calmly as Bob planted flowers,
Carefully sniffing each one Bob put in place.
Then, after the last one was planted,
He sniffed it; then turned and licked Bob’s face.
Bob smiled. “I had a dog when I was young…
Pal…he was a mighty good one too.
So, if you don’t mind old fella,
That’s what I’ll call you.”
Pal may have been an old dog,
But he was smart and handsome in his way;
So they made a deal, Bob would give him a meal
And a bath, if he decided to stay.
Pal loved his bath, then rolled in the grass.
He slept on a blanket in the den.
In the night, he dragged it next to Bob’s bed.
He intended to be Bob’s best friend.
Pal was such a good dog, housebroken too;
Never made a mess or got in trouble.
He knew about newspapers, slippers and Frisbees;
And when Bob called, he ‘d come on the double.
Yes, Pal gave Bob’s life new purpose.
A special bond of friendship was cast.
And never again did Bob pray,
“Lord, let this day be my last.”
For twelve years, the very best of friends,
Together night and day;
And so it was, until one night,
Pal quietly passed away.
Bob held Pal in his arms and wept.
“Oh, Pal…you’re the best friend in my life.”
Bob talked to Pal, caressed him until he fell asleep;
Then, sometime in the night, Bob finally joined his wife.
The next morning, an old woman,
Tears welling in her sad and lonely eyes,
Brought flowers to her husband’s grave;
But there, to her surprise….
Stood an old dog beside the stone,
Thin an dirty, but he struck a handsome pose.
He whined as she approached, as if to say,
“I could use a friend, you know.”
He sat calmly as she took old flowers
And put fresh ones in their place.
He carefully sniffed the fresh ones,
Then turned and licked her face.
She smiled. “I had a dog when I was young...
a good one too. His name was Pal.”
Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014
Life is like a coloring book
with few or many pages
filled with complex
We are given a box of crayons
and are asked to color in the
background and spaces of the images
Sub-titles are allowed.
When the coloring book is finished
we are given a new one to complete.
REINCARNATION THINKING 2 -SOUL SEARCHING
Was I once before or never
Don’t know how or even whether
I was a firefly, a bird of prey
a centipede, a fish fillet?
A baseball fan to keep the score
a mockingbird, a carnivore?
A blossom in the midst of spring
a sign of what the day might bring.
A germ grown in a Petri dish
a chicken bone an unmade wish
All things and species could I be,
even remnants of a tree.
Of all of these, I leave this post,
I am for now what I am most.
MORE QUESTIONS ON RE-INCARNATION
As 'core' beliefs thicken so,
does it leave us room to grow?
As aging souls say we must,
complete the cycle which was thrust
upon our bucolic living place
turned upside down in whorling space
searching for a redemptive life.
But for you, dearest one, do you not remember
before you arrived, you took this bucking horse of soul,
tamed it, labeled it and proclaimed it.
To become what you needed in order
that your ride be contained and controlled.
It's name is 'balance' and it keeps you level in the saddle
so you don't fall off.
REINCARNATION THINKING 3 -
If, we are on a soul journey,
then what must that soul become?
A better soul? A wiser soul?
A sad soul? A learned soul?
Until one reaches the end of time,
There are so many lives to live out
to fully experience all aspects of this world.
Animals, plants - more souls searching?
One can speculate, but from my perspective
none of it makes sense.
Was the Phoenix reincarnated?
Or was its embers reignited?
Perhaps before a lowly worm or soldier bee
or brown turned leaf upon a tree?
A seahorse, a shark, which fish shall I be?
In fisherman's net to be eaten by me?
And when the cycle is complete
and x equals x on our balance sheet.
Can we then rest in a celestial lair
with memories gone and unaware
of trials by all things forgotten?
If choose I must or chosen by me,
I'll remain in the stars and just wait to see.
Copyright © Allan Koven | Year Posted 2013
I haste not
I fear not
in harmonious cries, I plead
where flight has called this mighty warrior
red paint upon my cheek
O cleansing smoke of wild grass high
of resin and sacred bead
a vision has taken this warrior's cry
anon, to capture a dream
I crawl through gates to reach the ledge
where spirit and smoke arise
and pluck the painted Northern Flora
and gaze through Savanna's eyes
Copyright © Rick Parise | Year Posted 2013
plotting, scheming, destroying
enemy, sin, son, shepherd
sacrificing, atoning, purifying
Written on 3/26/2015
Copyright © Laura Leiser | Year Posted 2015
Under starlit dome,
across the empty ocean,
I sail all alone.
Copyright © Arnab Mitra | Year Posted 2013
I realize limitation
Is an illusion.
My destiny is without
Beyond death. Beyond the periphery
Cosmic chaos is cooking...
In infinite situations
Attuned yet unaware,
A universe of oppositions
Frequency and energy
A spiraling dichotomy.
an ascending epiphany.
CONSTRUCTIVE FEEDBACK, (pos. or neg.) CRITIQUES, OR ANY SUGGESTIONS
I also enjoy simple lists of words, descriptors of an abstract reaction
describe the feelings or ideas my poem invoked or left in feeling or thought.
Even on word. is better than none. Thank you
Copyright © Joel Thornton | Year Posted 2014
surrender to God
speaks silence in words themselves
words are unknown words
Copyright © BL Devnath | Year Posted 2014
tree of wisdom;
tree of secrets
and tree of strife;
eat her fruit,
the mind will grow;
all her secrets,
she will show.
like gray brain matter;
that all life,
In right hands,
in wrong hands,
Take great heed
of what you do;
this world is left,
to me and you.
Copyright © M. L. Kiser | Year Posted 2014
learning from the past
turning the dark into light
grasping a lesson from our Father
climbing levels of enlightenment
The Almighty presents us with lessons each and everyday
it is our job to acknowledge the lessons and grow from them
Although presented in different ways
we all go through the same lessons in life
I call it "climbing levels of spiritual enlightenment"
if you grasp the lesson presented and live by that lesson you will begin your climb
if you fail to live by that lesson you will tumble back down over and over
hence the lessons will be presented to you once again until you achieve them
The lessons are not always pleasant as the flesh cries out in pain
as I climb and fall throughout my life
the agony is soon replace with delight
a little pain to receive a blessing from our King
What appears to be a failure or a loss with no way out
is simply a hidden blessing , a gift from our King......
It's time to start climbing!!!
lets grow strong..........
Copyright © Rick Parise | Year Posted 2010
Whisper Of Your Soul
(Soul Listens On A Whisper)
Murmurs soft are sensed, mimic nature, diaphanous clouds spread wide
Settle softer than a translucent butterfly on spring light snow
It is the moon flirting in ebullience, fog rising on a thin film on winds side
Lifting skirts or is it veils? Unknown in this muted light of whispers glow
Mist rolls across the bog, pulls along reluctant virgin night
By golden glow, that holds the sky in humble hush, abeyance in a trance
Tracking down the birth of morning, bursting full of light
Barely able to mutter the words, “the light of day”, the endless dance
You feel the vibrant tones, fold over meadows as you go
A vestigial tiny vessel of a virgin’s secret opens here
Chasing dark away along the marsh with pounding heart to know
The open glen is near, fills up in brilliant colors clear
Soft luscious sounds fall silent on the morning air and then
Listen, it whispers on the minutia of the moment something true
Holds on to quiet in the silent glen
Waiting on a whisper Imbued with truth, soft thoughts of you
Created on 12/16/14 for “Whisper Of Your Soul” Poetry Contest Sponsored by Gail Angel Doyle
Copyright © Earl Schumacker | Year Posted 2014
President Barak Obama has an economic stimulus plan
to move the nation out of this financial quicksand
with foreclosures and jobs lost the situation is depressing
over $700 billion to get us out of this recession
but I know that all my help comes from the Lord
and God won't let me write a check that I cannot afford
the God who made Heaven and Earth has never let me down
the God who created me won't let me financially drown
He is my source, He is my strength, He is my right hand
and since money is not the god I serve I trust in His stimulus plan
for I know my God is able to keep food on my table
I know my God will always come through whenever a bill is overdue
I know my God is up to the task to give me all that I ask
God's spiritual stimulus plan is my daily bread
infused with His promises that keep me spirit-fed
and no matter how dire my circumstance
I turn to God and He extends me a branch
for greater is He who is in me than what is in this world
and greater is what He has promised me than anything from man I've heard
He suffered for me, He died for me, His blood was on the cross
there's nothing He won't do for me so I won't suffer anymore loss
the joy of the Lord is now in my hands
my God's spiritual stimulus plan
and even when my back's against the wall
the God I serve won't let me fall
and even if my 401K has diminished
the God I serve will replenish
and even if my stock portfolio tanks
the God I serve has a full spiritual bank
exceedingly, abundantly and above all
the God I serve will answer my call
in all things, in anything and in everything
there's nothing that my God cannot change
my God is able and on His word I do stand
trusting in Him to revive me with His spiritual stimulus plan
Copyright © louise nelson | Year Posted 2009