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Below are the all-time best Verse poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of Verse poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Verse Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Verse poems are below this new poems list.

Duplex by Haight, Sandra
Sword And Stone by Barden, Greg
Mr Sandman's Magic by De Beaulieu, Darlene
Tears by Behm, Kurt Philip
To Question Existence by Barden, Greg
My Favorite Vice by Fox, Bryan
Nostalgia by Fox, Bryan
Seas of melancholy by Johnson, Ernest
Bringin' Down The House by Ferguson, Duncan R. M.
It's flirtering for crying out loud by Beam, John

View all new Verse Poems

The Best Verse Poems

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Indian Ink

Listen to poem:
“Indian Accent”

Hear the whispers inside

Chanting from long ago
Echoes come and go
Losing time in a soft eternal glow

A beautiful and delicate autumn mountain scene
Dry blue eyes enchanting melodies!
Voices fall from the sky;    -Rising hymns release 
-ancient demons that   CLING to the soul

Darkness dwells under - gentle moonlight
Ancestors of the Spirit World!
Weaving Native smoke into the barren air
Indian spirits haunt the muddy Earth---
Moccasin makers rise from underneath;    While
  guardians of dream catchers - print the Universe
Smooth thread from the outer world; 
Arrowheads,   Ivory gems,   feathers, and illusions
I stumble upon a florid kiss.......   My veins;
Run Cold, like ice through a desert night.

Winds of enchanted drums - cry out for rain
Hollow chimes mesmerize,  my ties,  my eyes
An ancient rage begins to flare --- MADNESS! 
- takes place among the sanity of  who   I am
The spear of the perfumed buffalo scrapes my skin
I remove the veil that covers my eyes
The hands that cover my ears
Drying the scalp that bleeds on my face

KINDRED IN EVERY WAY!

Raven silk braids and feathers on my hair
Dancing in a horrid hallucination of Peyote,
*
Waking up from the “American Dream.”
Holding out my arms, I am free, I can fly.

I AM A BIRD!

By; PD


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

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Like A Girl

Listen to poem:
Like A Girl 

I play like a girl, I hit like a girl
You say I throw like a girl, 
And, when I run -- I run like a girl!
All that plus more, enjoy this one size fits all

Who and what I want comes from being strong 
Classy and fabulous, 
THIS is my song!

I've been told, cut to size
The world dark and gray, when life becomes an insult
Take heed when I speak my mind, 
I am tough, outstanding and beautiful!

Move ahead --- say it twice, I smell nice
A taste of Cool Water and Justice Perfume
I have a non-stop multitask fixation
Like a woman, everything about me is hidden 
Magic and alluring the only joy in sexuality you'll need

I'm empowering this moment!
Endorsing Myself, with a certain sorta mystique
I deliver an independent will, 
     don't ever underestimate my physique

I am a caregiver, a female who won't give up the fight
I remain firm and believe all women have equal rights
I walk and talk Like A girl 
    wearing heels Breaking the sound of Annabel

       Like, Mona's unforgettable smile, 
       I stand tall Like Miss Liberty
       I am, Betsy Ross, America's #1 designer
            Harriet, who escaped slaver-y 
       Like Theresa and Mary, I'm here to give change
       I am, Hilary overwhelmed with determination
       A leader -- A Goddess, I burn like Joan
       ---Cleopatra in the room
       ---Calamity Jane's wild side
       Emelia's, won't give up heart
       I am Anne, with a secret hidden spot
       Susan B, with the right to vote
       Emily who writes deep and pretty

The sound In your eyes aren't listening!
You imagine I am weak -- not strong enough -- brave enough, 
You call me different and difficult!
Still, you want my warmth -- my love -- my attention

I am not less, I am more
I am a woman -- I frown -- I cry -- I hurt and yell at the universe
Nevertheless, I make a difference
Like a girl, I smile
A smile never seen or felt before, both defined and undefined
Your heart will ask and implore for more

Like a girl, I'll drive you wild, looking pretty "You're In Love!"
My Self confidence comes from who I am deep inside
Everything I've become follows the makeup on my face
Bare and nude, I am the Madonna flowering the mood

At the end of every day, I have one other thing to say
The Next Time You ask me to cook and clean
Because you think, I belong in the kitchen
You better believe I'm doing it my way
LIKE A GIRL


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015

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The Sowing

Upon the wind sheltered hillside,
the sharp tang of metal and the sting of salt air lay
over a field of blood-red poppies, no Flanders Field.

At years fall, fields of rape roll like waves,
in the harshness of winter-sleet, stray boulders bow,
like the backs of mothers, and daughters sowing.
Their nails torn, ragged, and bleeding.
They bleed by the moon, and son, upon the fields.
No white crosses mark their passing.

For hundreds of years, and crops of rape, barley and wheat,
small hands, soft hands, and soft thighs bleed.
They bleed daughters, and sons.
They birth the fields by consent or rape and in the fields 
unadorned by silver stars or purple hearts, they writhe.

Today, as May's sun wakes the blood blasted pasture,
each precious drop blooms, a heroines soul
acknowledgement, the poppies yield.


Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2009

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Don't Come

.

     I don't want warm fingertips touching my name.
     I won't feel those left-to-rust letters,
     not even read them—Don't come

     with lashes under waterproof mascara
     for same-day return flight
     —those wings were mine.

     No need of somber daisies,
     I won't pick petals anymore.
     Naked of all care to unclose my eyes,

     I'll be quieter, simpler, easier
     to understand. Don't knock on the stone,
     I won't be around

     as whisper, as tickling, as shadow,
     nor sudden silence, no crying wolf.
     You won't find me. I'll be gone.

     My every sunset consumed in tundra,
     devoured by questions that tore skin and
     dreams. Forget it—nevermore.

     My best smile, my blessed hands, my better world,
     nothing will be left of them. Don't come,
     it'll be late. You should have come earlier,

     you shouldn't have gone.
     This stolen flower pressed between our lives
     never wilted; yet,  you didn't know.

     Your constant walls, my depth of doubts, our equal loss,
     blow them off into the night.
     But don't come,

     once I'm gone—I swear,
     not even as a tiny blade of grass—
     never, I will never return.



10/8/2010


.


Copyright © Ruben O. | Year Posted 2010

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A Long Loud Sigh

genius?
sometimes you are in its minimal spotted light...sometimes!
other times you just know you've been touched and you freeze,
moved but frozen...like a stranger it moves in, does its work and leaves.

...maybe it's been a while since you two spoke...
when the dead sea still hosted life,
the hanging gardens of babylon grew in sinc with the breath of the planet,
before the tower of pisa started to lean or mayan buildings were in ruin.

so you write words...any words...they might at least soothe your hurt
hold your heart in a protective shield.
you know how crippling unrequited love can be.
do you still dream of its hug...genius?

life and love share more than a first letter
(like the first letter you wrote under the veil of inspiration).
they also share good and evil...it's a flip of the coin.
either way is fine with you. you'd bathe in holy water or sell your soul.
life, love...passion...somewhere in there...it lives, genius.

all of nature a reflection through its transparent figure glows dark 
like the shadows live in the radiant illumination of evening rays.

so let me speak of us!
recently when i tried to hold you...
you were like a ghost in the bright of day,
a phantom out of its element...
there was nothing of you...i could embrace.
when i tried to enter you a freezing cold ran through me like a winter brook.
you exhaled me 
as if i were fog on a deserted country road invisible to absent eyes.
still you were my drug of choice.
addicted, i chased the dragon...you...genius.

memories fill me...
days when we would paint words,
stitch in a metaphor or two,
weave in music, 
write instruments to fill in the spaces,
ordain a voice.

i remember...

you wanted to taste me
i was overwhelmed 
how you put your fingers on my lips 
how you licked them...you...genius.

you were that giant pine i would climb in the dead of winter
(why do they say that "the dead of winter"? winter will die 
when hell freezes over. winter isn't death it's purgatory.)
the one with the needles that punctures human skin.

come to me again and touch me...
like the butterfly does the wind...barely but thoroughly.
(is it true that just a tiny flutter of their wings could be 
the start of a hurricane? are the icebergs melting?)
i didn't just write that out loud...did i...with you I'm shy...genius.

GENIUS?

fine!
hide.
don't show yourself.
don't speak to me.
fine!

don't bother with rising the sun today.
forget those showers you create your magic arc with,
vacuum away all the plants.
lower your wall of blue.
i'm not interested anymore in those pillowy shapes i use to love so.

i've always known it is fire that cleanses, water that burns,
it is the moon that breaks the heart,
the stars that slaps the face...with...i don't know...reality.
i've always known by the time we see a star...
in real time...it's already extinguished...already dead.

it is our friends that will use us...our heroes that will lie to our face...
our blood will betray our trust...our teachers will fail us...
our leaders treat us like just another job...
the devout that will exhibit hatred.

still i believe. no matter what else...the rose will always survive.
the petals deceiving. they will repel all that is unholy.
grab it by the neck and squeeze out its black ooze,
leaving a gentle soul there to admire its adversary.
don't even get me started on the orchid
or even the flowers all...alphabetically.

i dare confront the beauty of nature's art unframed...
canvas loose to admire...genius!

i miss you but i am out of tears.
do drop in though. 
i can offer you a cup of dry warmth...
soothing like burning logs that crackle with laughter.

or 

take you to my secret place.
behind the camouflage of forests dense,
where vines grow through spiral staircases 
made of turtle shells and dressed in discarded snake skins.
green is the theme there. it is everywhere,
unabridged, unabated, unaffected, undisturbed 
with a fuming, burning, yearning to be touched.
so let's...let's grab...hold...squeeze..
feel free from the cheap paradigm offered.

i don't think you know, even while you sleep, i hold your hand, genius.

dream a full rainbow on a fingernail moon night,
feel february twenty ninth its absolute might,
taste fully the slight of a pheasant in flight,
yearn eternal life, wish a vampire's bite,
concoct rhymes nicely fluffed with built in sight.

genius?
on this sombre morning the sun is blinding.
damn my eyes.
there is a negative entity drapes our children's world.
shame on us...shame on you...i need you.
i am reduced to an objective observer.
life glides on the little wings of its carrier,
its final resting point in the hands of the wind.
another life carried away on a worker bee,
busy stealing nectar from a succulent bud.
a stowaway hangs on for dear life to the flyers leg.
gets off at the next flower.
meets up with a companion to create a new life.

genius?,
everything changed when I met you.
was the sun rising or the mountain sinking.
was that an orange globe against a blue sky
or a lit round hole in a sad wisp of air.

i'll play a keyless piano if you'll paint me a horizon I can reach.
i'll sing you a ballad with a single note...

i walked into my life without consideration.
maybe crawled.
all the same...
when do I get a choice.
when will they stop holding death over my head.

if i could direct a few more plays with you as my guide...
my art, my life! genius i long for your influence...
even one last time to see your face, 
unite and give you one last kiss...goodnight.




April 1 2015
Maurice Yvonne
Sponsor: Linda
Contest Name:A Million Dollar Poem








Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2015

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SWITCH magazine

I am working with an off-site poetry/prose 
publishing project and would like to have you 
involved with submissions and subscription. 
If interested, contact switchpmag@gmail.com 
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If you do not want to submit any poetry/prose at 
the moment, but would like to subscribe, free of 
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published work of some of your fellow Soupers 
in future issues of SWITCH magazine; fresh 
pieces that are not posted on poetrysoup.com—
type "Subscription" in the e-mail subject field 
(aside from selecting the work of people who are 
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affiliated with—and transcends—poetrysoup.com; 
SWITCH will also be selecting authors who have 
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Anyone is welcome to join; to join, one does not 
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I vouch for the editorial staff 100%. Information 
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Thank you.
_______







Edinburgh (the poem that this post used to be)


Sweeping through your scotch broom,
weeping over your cobblestones,
lilting around the columns of Calton Hill,
is an Age of Reason so brilliantly brooding,
some nights I am kept awake
listening to Pendragon's breath caress Arthur's Seat,
and whispers drip from sills on St. Giles Street.

Though roots may drink from a sleepless night,
when morning light creeps through the curtains,
my love for you is renewed.




+/-


Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2013

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Broken People

I wish to be with the broken people
the get in your face challenge me people
The sometimes hidden
sitting in a dark corner kinda people
The don't you love me
I wish you seen me sorta people
People just being real people
not having to have it all together people
Them doing their best to figure it out people
dancing and singing without the smooth moves people

I don't care about the color of their skin
or what others think of as their sin
They don't need to be perfect to win
seeing and listening is where I'll begin
Beyond appearance of fat or thin
I only know what I know
I've never been where they've been.

We'll start 
with our broken smiles
It's the best we've got
It might seem like so little 
still I think it's a lot
Through life's struggles we've all fought
lessons needed learning
experienced not taught
real is real it couldn't be bought

So forget the fake people
the all about perfect hair and clothes people
The I live in the right neighborhood and drive the right car people
It's all about me, top of the hill people
They only hang out with the supremely cool people
those too important to talk to me people
thinking they're the best of the best kinda people
when all along they are merely Sheeple 
ba ba baaing, thinking they are strong instead of feeble

I love characters 
people who are unique
I look under exteriors to gain a peek
strength of lions disguised in meek
unconcearned with fab or being chic
Worth listening to if allowed to speak
the stories they tell will make your eyes leak

For in the end
we are all broken
stumbling and choking
Disguising hurt with our joking
victims of others and their poking
So look close maybe you'll see
eyes that aren't blank 
hearts that aren't empty
Who we think of as complicated
in the end might not be
They might push when others come close
yet they are affectionate times three
Each just a bit afraid and broken 
all the while wishing  
and wanting to be
A part of something
If only we choose to see
those on the fringes
are a part of the we
All we have to do 
is let them be!


Dedicated to our homeless population.
They teach us the unvarnished truth about ourselves.






Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015

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Petal


Pink and perfect mystery 
to which I ply my finger, 
she ripens so exquisitely
the longer that I linger

and fluff the modest blossom
with my gentle loving hand,
teasing, ever pleasing
so that now I understand

how beautiful the flower
that yields without duress,
blooming now so fully
in the warmth of my caress.


Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe | Year Posted 2006

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Hands

Featuring: Leonora Galinta
----------------------------------
Take My Hands
I Offer Them To You
Hold Them Tight
Never Let Them Go!!!
---------------------------------

~MY HANDS~

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

My hands paint everything in my life
they paint my weakness, my strength 
they paint the fire in my eyes
they hold me when I'm cold
When I need them the most,

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

With no words to say
I caress the sky like a mime
My hands ride the wind, 
My hands paint the world, 

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

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

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

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

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

My hands age in every turning page
Shriveled and old
Still you embrace and love the hold
My hands touch and made a difference,
my hands employed by me!
My hands give and pray
Right and Left, they know their duty!
When they are bored, they tap-tap
and draw THAT annoying noise.

My hands know secrets, a fortune teller can't reveal
they hold the past, present, and  future in every line.

I extend my hands, without flipping the bird
Thank you, Hands, I enjoy a good sign language show!

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

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

by: PD


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

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Broken

~Suicidal Night~

I sit alone in the dark
In the dark I sit alone
Nobody sees me
I see nobody

Flowers, above
My eyes have darkened to a color never seen before
Forever closed!
 
It Rains!
It Rains!

In this room, I've drowned too many times
I remember cascades of water under my eyes
My satin sheets wrinkle and cold
I die and die every night
No one sees the pain that kills me every day
Wounds that reach 6 feet deep

Lucid demons
Bleeding wrist
Scary dreams
My mind is screaming
---
Incomplete'
Torn'
Broken-
Is how I live

I'm alone-
No one's around.
My body's like a coffin
Stiff in my own home.

~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2013

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Alice Sweet Alice

      ~Alice Sweet Alice~

        *Like Sisters*
   Everyday -- Holding Hands 
Sunday Dress -- Pink Ribbons
         *Alice And I*


How can they say she did not exist?
This Sweet Girl I Named Alice

The way she looks at me
-Her eyes tender green
A body figure I can't describe
Together we played hide and seek
We swung in ways no one could see
This girl with pretty red curls
Who enjoys the sound of pouring rain.

Together we slept under the same breeze 
We carved our names on the same tree
Side by Side it Read Alice & I!
She whispered the day I fell off my bike
Alice Sweet Alice loves the way I look in red!

Every day I face the mirror
Alice puts her left hand on my right
We share the same identical scars,
Under the right and left palm.

The way she held my hand
Healed the scrapes in every fall
Beating from the bullies, she screams!
Again, Alice, whispers--- "Kill Them All!"
No one ever said a word,
When she stood by my side
Alice knew me in ways no one else did
She knew my eyes -When they cried!

Now I can't sleep,
Since, Alice has fallen back into the abyss
Forever conscious in a self-hug
--- this is no dream, it is real!

The rage inside, burns.
It took place the day she left!
Burning curtains 
Empty mirrors
This Girl Named Alice spoke of darkness,
then disappeared 

When I hear the sound of pouring rain
I stare at the shadows on the wall
Nothing feels the same,
I allow myself to soak in a darkness where it began.

My hair of red is not the same
These cuts are all that remain
The only clue in which Alice, was here!
Holding on to stainless blade, I sleep

ALICE SWEET ALICE! 
Please call my name!
Why do they whisper?
Why are they saying she never held a breath?
I know she is real, she's exist
Why else would I let her cut my wrist?

This Sweet Girl 
"I YELL FOR ALICE!"
Finally, visits again ---
But, who is to believe?
For everyone says 
Alice lives inside my head.

By:)


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

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PLAGIARIZING

"Mine all Mine!"

A thief I long to be
Your eyes original like the moon and sea

A lover in the world............
An Anthology, you walk and talk like the word "AMOR."

The words you send, I nicely tuck under my pillow
Every note every line you left behind 
I memorized till they became all mine
Word-for-word, 
Unauthorized I scrape the concrete calluses off the tongue
Pirating the perfect dramatic monolog look,
Basking through the passage around your Bio, 
Lost in the musky scent -around the sonnet of your aura light 
Epic enough, I reach inside to feel every idyllic rhyme
A strong iambic meter curse, conjuring up the perfect verse
In you I lift a copy paste from your lips, 
No need to credit the sources in your bliss
The sweetest undamaged sensual memorandum book
A moment I stole and sealed without copyright proof

My dearest Poet, 
When you move across the room
I see a thousand arrows that follow from behind, 
Indulged when you speak and point out a verse per verse
I am a victim pampered by your words,
Sponging every line, adding them to my crib notes 
Improved wordplay that infringed my everyday diary
A haiku so tangible, it sets the perfect images in my dream,
Hypnotize after I read your first love poem
A printed feeling--
Borrowed from the sun

pd


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

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If My Love For You Was Greater

if my love for you was any greater the trees would  line up in poetic forms ...awe you in sonnets written... ...part...to allow winds to cool your face...  to trace it with natures hand. all the oxygen that covers all the waters rise, supercharge the breath of my emotion. mountains would melt, shed their peaks like tears of joy. even the arid deserts serve up fruits,  their prickly pears peeled on a platter. sunset would pause and sunrise hurry... ...exist in a paradox to herald your presence. petals would climb their stems  regroup to bloom again. butterflies re-cocoon  emerge as glorious fairies  for all children to adore. the skies would willingly  shape, etch,  paint,   frame my exuberance. the planet would swell, the galaxies expand. in the endless depth  of my singular love  i hold you dear, safely contain you  in my admiring smile, for now, forevermore. 16~10~2014 Sponsor: Rhonda Johnson-Saunders Contest Name: Your Most Romantic Poem of 2014


Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014

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Love Poem 29

Every day, I fall in love with something new,
while maintaining the love I have already found.

I fall in love with scars, wrinkles,
clichés, and repetition; I fall in love 
with items that people throw to the wind,
kick around, and step upon.

I fall in love with my enemies,
one of life's hardest lessons to learn;
I find haters to be marvelous motivators.

The old man who sits in a rain-gorged gutter,
his fist raised to the sky in fury
as he talks to an invisible audience
about how Apollo stole his dearly, beloved wife—

I fall in love with him too.

I fall in love with things that some people deem 
as ugly, dirty, morose, and immoral.
The more I fall in love,
the more I love each moment,
including the pain, torture, and misery 
that may unfold along the way.

Every day, I fall in love with something new,
while reinforcing the love I already have .

If I write down treasonously teetering words,
the reader could assume such words 
to be rooted in rage, or a cynical outlook,  
when the words are actually birthed from love—
I love every word that exists.

I fall in love with the woman 
who is too shy to have a sincere conversation with anyone,
because she believes herself to be grotesque,
when in fact, she is exquisitely gorgeous.

I fall in love with broken daffodils, bent daisies,
a shattered seashell, the sweet stench of seaweed 
rotting on the shore, and the way her hair smells 
as it bakes in the sun.
I fall in love with black and white photographs,
mesmerized by the essence that the dead have left behind.
I fall in love with marbles,the feathers of mourning doves,
and with the stray cat, who, after she watched the moving truck 
drive away, slunk around the alley in search of scraps—
over the years, she has proven to be a respectful 
and loyal companion (so easy to fall in love with, again and again,
while maintaining the love I already have).
I fall in love with saints, villains, rusted watering cans,
the way sunlight bends into prisms
when it shines through the cracked, antique windowpane
that I simply don't want to replace.


And as for the people who think that it's impossible 
for someone such as myself
to fall in love with something new, every, single day,

well, I love them too.



2016 Pulse Remix, July 18th, 2016
(original version was written on April 6th, 2012)


Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2012

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Big Girls do Cry

They expected her to be the jolly fun one.
The one   w e a r i n g   a smile on her face.
So she became.....who they wanted her to be
She was quick with her wit, telling her practiced fat jokes.
It was a pre-emptive strike of sorts
her attempt to remove the target
from what some thought was her "considerable ass".
Never again wanting to be the "butt" of people's jokes!

She remembers the year she was "Chubby Checker"
the year her parents gave her that checkered jacket
she also remembers how hard she cried.
They laughed and one boy sang 
"Big Girls Don't Cry----- they don't cry!"
She vowed to herself on that very day
"I will never ever cry again!"

There were the many diets
the yo yo effect..."Yo big girl, lookin good"
 Friends asking her  "have you lost weight?"
Those "good for you"s!!!!
The attention felt good in a way
but the weight she'd lose seemed to come back the next day.
Somehow the cursed food felt like her only true friend
the only one on whom she could depend.
The food never judged her
instead it filled the empty sad part
the part that weighed nothing
yet felt like it weighed a thousand pounds!
The part that felt lighter when she was full
it somehow felt like a hug from the inside.

She stopped eating in public
not wanting to hear comments like
"she could do without that ice cream."
There were also the buffet comments
"She's going to get her money's worth!"
Still what hurt even worse
were the nice people
the trying to be kind people
the ones who felt sorry for her people
Saying "all you need to do is lose a few pounds." 
or "you have such a pretty face." 
Some people would tell her "You're just big boned."
Then there was comment she hated the most
"You have such a great personality!" 
For she knew it was all part of the "Fat Girl Show"
the persona she had gifted to them.

Then came the day
that epic day she stopped joking.
When she smiled when she wanted to smile
when she dressed in the ways she wanted to dress.
She embraced the form she was given
she celebrated all of her curves.
She decided to eat when she was hungry
nourishing and loving her body
she allowed colourful foods to occupy her plate.
Strangely, she started losing some weight
but it wasn't her goal
for inside she was becoming whole.
Skinny was not who she needed to be!
When tears came she allowed them to flow free
she was no longer her own enemy
The more she cried
the less she felt her empty.

She learned, everyone
y e s.... everyone,
has some kind of insecurity!
No one is completely who they wish to be
some have hidden bits
others are more obvious,
even  if   some are somewhat oblivious.
She now has learned to be a compassionate witness
one who is much kinder to herself
she doesn't  keep her thoughts on a shelf
So when others make jokes
or give painful pokes...
She tells them "That's hurtful and it's not okay",
"I'm who I am and I'm perfect this way!"
Maybe next time they will consider what they say.
For today and tomorrow and every other day forward
she is more than some number on a scale that she weighs
or some joke in an insensitive phrase.
She now can be and see her true self in extrodinary ways








March 27th 2016
Any Poem 36








Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2016

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To all the heart breakers -a ZOMBIE's valentine

Wouldn't you rather~

Wouldn't you rather be dead?
Maybe shoot yourself in the head?
Over my dead heart, I'd never want to be a zombie like you.
The sight of your limbs are rotten all the time.
All synonyms say of you looks like a 3 legged swine.
Go ahead and do us all a favor, 
hide and stash yourself away from all your neighbor. 
I think I'd rather have my eyes stuck with glue
So I won't have to look at you
When it comes to family friends, you ain't got none.
You're always gonna be called the lonely retarded one.
Who could ever love a face like yours.
not even your mother see's pass your gores 
No need for privacy when you pee
Go ahead and take a leak and drown yourself in the sea.
Don't think for one second you are irresistible 
Love making with a zombie is impossible.

Wouldn't you rather be dead?
maybe shoot yourself in the head

The time to kill yourself is at hand.
Slicing your wrist is what we recommend.  
Cut your tongue off, don't want to hear you squeal.   
Blood all over, your face is no big deal
A sword or machete will only pick up the pace
I wanna see your guts pop out your mid-waist 
Contaminated objects is a must
Anything to remove your face of disgust.
The easy part is the best
Once you are gone we will all feel blessed,
The flaw of your existence  
Is what keeps us all in distance 

Wouldn't you rather be dead?
maybe shoot yourself in the head

Close your eyes and die
No one wants to hear you cry
You said you wanted to be loved
believe me~ you're better off unloved
I say do yourself off
Anyways you've always had it rough...
Go ahead and scream
This is not a dream
Now see how you make me feel
All I want is for you to end your ugly ordeal.
I will praise this day of course
Knowing soon you'll be a rotting corpse.

happy valentine ~ TO: All My DEADBEAT X-es from Texas.


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2012

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The Fallen Poet

(The Fallen Poet)

Shadows, fall from the east
Winter show, white meadows,
Compelling words lost, in a silent world
Beautiful, Bloomingdale is how it goes
Apocalypto-- my very own limbo
Alone in a field of corpses-
A field of men, women and broken pens, 
Images of angels fallen to their knees

A piece of space, of solitude
The sun a wasted disease
The more I prayed the worse I felt,
Lord, I came before - broken and alone

Heaven sees the secret inside
Lost I may be, yet you see
Offended me, I no longer sing
I wait till all is asleep
My ink is dry, a broken poet, with nowhere to go
Lost in the shadows of snow, frozen like ice
A sheet of paper, with no meaning, no words

My friends, my comrades, how easily one forgets

Like a game of chess, I panicked
Made all the right and wrong moves
I lost my way, staggered across
Love comes and love goes
My heart weaker than, weak
I don't know how I survived before, 
After turning the other cheek
I was no longer whole, forsaken myself endlessly 
I was lost, could not even count on myself

Guidance, I ignored no one believed what's become of me
Alone, I stood in old footsteps after falling down

At times end, I found nothing could put me back where I belong
It's time to get back on offense,
Walk through the new, refreshing old footprints

~*~ 


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2014

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Closer

    The sky resembles the robin's eggshells
                                                      scattered across the ground,

a blue so seemingly infinite                     yet fragile,
cracks running between understanding and madness
 
       complementing each other

as divine truths in their own right
to conquer my mind,
to unhinge the doors,
making it unnecessary to pick rusted locks

      letting thoughts fly free,
                                       releasing love out into the horizon.

If frozen within caged snapshots of mildewed expectations,
      it will surely die,
                 but even so,
  I was willing to strangle it by holding on too tightly.

    
    Until I saw the sky and eggshells today


      Peppered clouds reflected on the water,
                                            paralleling speckles on the eggshells,
                                    remind me of the freckles on your face.

  We need to be wide-open-free,
                                                we need to fly,
         without focusing too hard on shells of yesterdays.

We need to unclench our fists,
unclench our tongues,
explore the vast blue peppered sky 
                                                 
                                                      on wings of letting go....

 so that we can once again feel with purity,       
 so that we can hold each other ever closer.







05.24.12


Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2012

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Quarantine of the Soul

-Quarantine of the Soul-


Tranquil pills fall deep like the night
A sweet fangless course
Bites with no remorse
Your eyes struggle to read my ageless soul
Lost 
Dark
You open a heart under Quarantine 
The past
The present
The future
Stand in the way of what was and never will be
A contagious disease
I call "LOVE!"

(Past-- you came)
Somewhere deep inside --with you--
The Maverick 
The Majestic
The Arriving Vessel of Light
I separated myself from the world
 --to be with you--
I polished a new diamond night
With pleasures of meeting where our hearts began
Deep like the night, you woke my sleepless soul
Removing it from the safe harbor of the sea
-Isolated from all to see
No risk or chance, of smiling endlessly 

(Present-- you set)
Tonight you fell from Mandalay
You spoke in a way that Cut my throat with truth 
You detained my ego clouding the auspices sky
Allowing a smile
A tender peek into your heart
It spread in ways -- I wanted more 
I kept deep until you found your way past the door
Persistent memories 
In search of eternity
Tonight lets learn to live again
With no fear, I remove all labels
Making the moon and sun rise together
My love, my life now depends on you

(Future-- you left)
With no explanation
The age of Quarantine will forever set

You came to me
Set me free
Just to leave 

Now you are a virus --- Just like them!!!

By: PD


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015

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A beautiful mirror

-Escape of the mountain-

Do you care about my breast?
The new curve - countryside corset. 
The beauty of every summer dress 
Laying down, wearing out gravity 
Embracing the same feeling; Your
hands indulged in. Passion and devotion, 
around perfumed scenery... 
     The perfect pair

Today we will pray,
Counting every second on the clock 
No longer the womanly figure before'
I will possess a new battle, 
around the virtues of my palace.

-Will you still be there, 
  when the hump and lump are gone?
-Will I still be the queen of your heart?
Patiently I shall wait and see, 
 in hopes to gain the time, breast cancer stole 
Leaving behind torn tissue, with a daily reminder of;
The one that got away.

---note---
A Focus on Breast Cancer 


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2016

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Midnight Secret

*Secreto de Medianoche*   
  
~On this very Night~
   I found myself in a
        FANTASY 

Camouflage in lace, 
I run my hands all over the place
Wet whispers drop in between
In a soft stroke,
I touch the tan on my skin 
Pure sweetness unfolds
The perfumes in the air  - Arouse 
   every sexual intention inside
Without a care, 
I'm lost in the moment,

Every feeling at this point,
   feels erotically insane, 
In a seductive way--
  the night whispers my name, 
A freedom flight - into the night.
                            (Like the wind)
 
Caressing my breast, my legs tremble
Beyond the haze, into another world 
Never pointless - A new sensation
My fingers slither, a play tonight

Circles in motion, 
Vibrations and self-soothing lotion, 
I touch myself gently, 
Thinking of you relentlessly,
Looking around, 
The night echoes a whimpering sound, 
Embracing the secrets inside 
I squeeze the dark damp sheets-
Moaning and moaning, repeatedly. 
Holding my silk pillow, groping my knees,
I run my finger on my lips - 
Satisfaction complete! 
Back into the realm of dreams. 
~Tonight~

:)


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

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CAMPFIRE

~CAMPFIRE~ 

I hunger to taste your solid wood stare
You and I, no one else at all
Snuggling under the stars
Hungry for each others ears

Chasing every comet across the sky
Fierce when it comes to standing tall
Desires releasing screams from the mundane night
Running naked throughout the world
Firewood burning the depth of our soul
Dancing in a way we put mortals to shame 
A cloud of grey shade arousing the night
Secret moans before morning dew hit sunrise

Crawling around in circles
Feeling each others heart instincts
Surrender to the ashes of our skin 
Passion lost deep in a dream-catchers web.

A pack of thieves we long to be
Weaving each other’s growls  
No one dares to separate the pack we create 
A stare of solid wood I hunger to taste. 


~night after night~ 
  ~IN THE MOOD~
       ~always~

      7/14/2011


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2011

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Sleepless Night

Sleepless Night

***
Teardrops, bagged eyes, a way of sin
The mirror reveals a lost eternal soul
A conniving move against tonight's phantom glow
Voices circle around the insomniac moon
Like magic and beauty, "She's Gone With the Wind."

The idea of love, 
broken like yesterday's wishbone.
She is leaving today,
her arms, my shelter
her wings now immense.
Beauty --- she's gone forever! 
Never will she suffer-
Never will she return-
All I have are lost memories,
tracing what is left.
One final deep breath
tequila vice
to wash away the pain.....

At Last, Now I See!
Under the drunken stars 
I had an epiphany 
Stricken like a match
A sunken treasure 
At Last, I Knew
You did not belong in there,
you were there for the taking
Frail and sick, no longer sane.
Memories lost, no longer - her
My Mother! 

What has become of her since? 
You're a demon, who played us all
Made us cry, while she slowly withered away

The way you laid waste to her body
nipping both her legs
Fed her through a stubble

She rapidly forgot
our names'
our faces'
I hate you Alzheimer
I hate the way you took her the first time!
I hate you Death
I hate the way you claimed her final moment!
***

Sleepless nights and pillowed feathers,
Caress a precious moment around my tender skin
Pretending my mother tucked them in
Anything to help me get past my sleepless nights.


7-08-13


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

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In The Stars

       Written in The Stars 

-----------------------------------------
Two hearts bleached by the sun
        A poem's - fallen wish
               The Love 
            Of A Life Time
-----------------------------------------

Majestic beams fall from heavens meadow
Two hearts stitched by the constellation
Under the moon's glow 
   You and I
Gazing up into the Starry Sky

This night we sit under the dazzling diamond dust
Our eyes feel and meet tonight 
Stars twinkle a poem of each paired heart
Listen......While......The God's Whisper!

What Is Love? 
They asked
A wish so gently by the stars 
Greeting young couples heart 
Poor but, in love
Mockeries of an old shadow
Light embracing this Auspicious moment 

-Aster Flares-
Intrigued by sad lovers tale
Two souls forever rich- 
Sharing eternity through celestial bliss
Gravitating in the world owned by the stars
A most unfortunate turn of events, 
Romeo & Juliet
Collapsing stars rising with a hymn 
From the moment they fell
Only to reveal how beautiful-- 
-- the stars in the dark
Ever so wealthy, around Orion's Belt
Reading notes on every rhyme, every heartbeat


Stars fall every eve entering the atmosphere
Seeping through the soul, making love a part of light
Permanent illusion
Fireflies Flaring up 
A passion that last longer than a moment

Each  zodiac unfolds
The stars tell you, who you are 
Gaze upon the eternity
Follow the Northern star
Beneath your peaceful splendor 
They will bow
Sunset and the evening star, 
"My Star Of Love" 
Like glitter dust upon a timeless shore
Never will the memory of love be gone
Look up at the stars tonight,
For somewhere out there 
I read about YOU in a poem.

By; PD


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

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I want your SEEDS

**"And his name was Jack"**

No one perceives what abides above the clouds. 
A giant, a harp, maybe golden eggs. 
I demand to see and feel before I believe. 
A castle, a dream…. I want the magic beans!!!
~~~

I'm the daughter of a farmer. 
I have a donkey to ride, a story to tell.
“Jack and the Beanstalk” my favorite tale. 
 
Once upon, a morbid dawn. 
I inhale a tiny simple yawn
Like the morning sun levitating over the farm,
I rise towards the village square to sell my ass
Along the open path, my ass and I desired a drink. 
Near the rustic river, 
I'd seen an old Englishman, sitting on a log. 
It looked as if time was approaching his brink. 
In his hand, he had a sack.
A bag, a bag, embroil of ivory and black. 
His eyes were not from this ground. 
His body fragile - it uttered a moaning sound.
He was of dirt. 
I was pure. 
He pledged his life to me. 
I debated .... with many thoughts, 
Although his eyes... 
My eyes... Will never meet again.
"I want what's in the bag!"

In a gasp, he whispers, 
"I'll give you anything for that ass.
my legs and bones can’t hold up on their own!”
I knelt down to where he sat 
Smelling his essence of rot
I reached forward and grabbed his baggage 
He griped, "This bag is all I got!" 
 
I answered, "And this sir is a fine ASS!" 
He replied, "I have no cash." 
Scowling at him, “NO I want your demon seeds!" 
My blood grew thin... 
Inhaling and exhaling  - his sin 
The old man all shriveled and timeworn, 
Proposed the birthright of the seeds. 
"Yes, plant them! Plant them!" 
I cried excitedly! 
He pat the field. 
Said "there I am done, 
now clock as it expands"
 
To breed this story short... 
He dispenses his seeds. 
AND, I GAVE HIM MY ASS. 
 
  BY;PD   


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013