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Best Absence Poems

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

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New Absence Poems

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

Absence-a pleiades by Hamilton, John
Your absence hurts - Rondeau by One, Silent
Undaunted Absence by Shahab, Muqudus
The Silence of Your Absence by Guenther , DebbySue
Absence Serenade by Kram, Baylee
In Your Absence by Kiburz, Nicholas
MOMMY'S ABSENCE by Baniti, Nailah
The Absence by Born, Michelle
Your Absence by Gentry, Susan
Her absence by Soto, Guillermo

View all new Absence Poems

The Best Absence Poems

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THE ROSE

~THE ROSE~

This is not a poem about a rose
Nor a poem, about diligence and beauty
Today, I sit and stare at the walls
Walls, that bare the complexity of life
Every breath, every tear I shed in my room
Set out to pollinate every seed, every bud-
Life     once - was the perfection of everything
Now, water drops as I drown in my sentiments
--- Sentiments that no longer hold meaning
I feel so empty now that you are gone.
 
This is not a poem about a rose,
Rather, it may be, I write about death
Death is a man with no face
A man who sits every night
Patiently, he sits on the edge of everything
Waiting and waiting,
For the thorn to prick the stem of who I am,
Who I used to be, in hopes I end the suffering

Every night he sits on the bedside  
Watching and waiting 
As I gaze deep into the dark watery walls
I lose the strength and resilience in my eyes.
Creating a dormancy, that shuts out the light
In a place where darkness prunes itself another day
There and only there,
I draw the silhouettes where life once bloomed
The echoes of my heart still call out your name
A name that no longer exists by my side
Slowly, the musk withers into the air 
In remembrance, you were once here
Perfection Gone, ~And a rose is just a rose~

:) 4-16-16


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2016

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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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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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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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Touch Me

"In Touch With Myself"

I can't seem to find her
The reminder of yesterday
I shut my eyes for a few seconds
Only there, can I reach to bear upon her face
The moment I open my eyes
The earth opens and she disappears
Every now and then
Darkness takes form around the blank wall
It brings out a long lost silhouette.
-I inhale a small desire, 
reaching and tracing every line left behind.

I Just can't seem to reach her
The girl drowning deep inside
I turn around to look and feel no one by my side
It's been long since she slowly faded away
I gaze into the mirror and miss her every day
For one second past,
I swear she was there.

Lately, I can't seem to find her
That girl I was before
Empty feelings continue to lounge about
Rejecting yesterday away.
-Honestly, I don't know why I bother,
holding on to somebody that is no longer there?

By:PD



Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015

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Mirror, Mirror

.

           
        
            To Chan "Archaic" Hurst


            I see you —in a way— caught
            held captive from escaping
                              from inside
                              a broken mirror
            beyond curse or superstition,
            staring at yourself:      fractured     fragmented
            with your need to unfold art
            arising through every fissure
            no further tricked by soothing pills.

            I see you —in a way— laying awake 
            counting cracks when pain pierced the air or
            kicking in amniotic fluid:
                              a mirror breaker
            who throws crystal's shards in all directions

            Torch confined to lead light in
            technicolor, through pentagrams
            within flamboyant kaleidoscopes or
            stained glass windows. Unsolved
            puzzle on the verge of your own Walden 
            where nothing will be enough
            where you will never belong.

            I see you —in a way— a dreamer
            who fosters fantasy with nesting habits 
            discovering Tolkien in Star Wars pajamas or
            racing a Nimbus 2000 over Gotham city.
            Child-brother sharing Hakuna Matatas.

            Yet, there you stand: 
            Who's the best rhymer in the land?
            cause it's all just Greek to us
            to mock the geeks, perhaps
            we rolled our eyes

            Today, a guitar grieves and revives
            euphoric notes. We know 
            there is no stage five life
            and although its knots seem to be untied

            I see you —in a way— still alive






Copyright © Ruben O. | Year Posted 2014

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Like Zephyr Breeze

Before I ever saw those eyes      How deeply I loved you.

Before you read my first thought       I found you .

Before you ever dreamt of my lips    I kissed your smile

I meant nothing to you      and you were already my world.

I lived through every breath you inhaled 

till that same breath became a ghost from the past.

Tonight  I exist to live for what was ...

Tomorrow  I live to exist for what will be .

I stopped calling your name 

I  stopped searching your footprints 

I stopped seeking those arms

Stopped believing in stars .

Yet sometimes      in my soul's dusk of night 

through your cold absence        I feel you within me 

Ever so soft      just like the wind 

Like zephyr  breeze which left my cheek      yet never gone.


Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2016

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Girl, Interrupted

Girl, Interrupted-

Deep cuts from within.
She faced bravely the many hardships of womanly life
How did she end up like this?
Severe depression after her first mental breakdown
Sorrow oppressed what was willed
At present in the parallel universe, 
Never aware of the world left behind
She will catch a brief glimpse of this world
   ---where everything is different.

Losing the veil in which includes time, 
Aging without caring death awaits!
Her different personality replaces reality
Things appear normal in her eyes. 

Although captivate in her own mind,
She feels this is freedom.

Being heavily burdened--
Every day she stares into different mirrors,
Smiling in her bipolar face
Without knowing insanity put her mind at ease.

~*~
7/24/13


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2013

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This Gypsy Soul

This gypsy soul is on the road It leaves castles far behind It abandons ghostly mist which sabotages the caravan of life It passes along the mountainside by golden hay fields where daises bloom by stream of waters which sweeps a withered rose towards the decayed lumber flume This gypsy soul is on the road from Edinburgh to Lochlomond against high winds,against the rain against aquatic monsters of pain This gypsy soul is on the road to the woodlands of your heart where I would camp inside your tent as our blissful thoughts impart This gypsy soul within myself and all the woman in me would wantingly await your fingertips to compose soft pastel fantasy The smell of early coffee then fills our empty cups The song of the cicada would echo in the shrubs And as the chimney smoke drift sideways in the breeze as warm dappled light filters through purple pansy leaves The pressing of my lips would leave their crimson mark below your sun- kissed cheek My arms would cling around your once a muscular physique We laze upon a hammock strung between two old oak trees I play on your guitar,my hundred melodies As the incandescent half moon rises above the dusky hue and orange paper lanterns float high in cobalt blue We'd chase the opalescent glow of a million firefly You'd be able to touch me before last embers die This gypsy soul is on the road in search to be set free Across bridges,on a journey your compass-my destiny.


Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2014

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VOICE IN HIDING



Hiding here inside my closet, I feel safe in the dark knowing on a pile of sheets lies my very psyche; it's only a thought, yet I am unhurt among drawers… so I curl and stare blank, imbibing bits of gentle murmurings that whisper on hangers as they sway with the lint...I strain to listen but prickly voices rush out of reach from the sleeves of a night like a conversation behind closed doors… I hear yet can't quite grasp what my heart wants to say in low dips ; like a tremolo carrying mould of twilight... it chants all sermons of a Sunday church bell speaking in tongues I knew once...long ago. The moon slices the folds around me in black suds washing a laundry of venting desire, only to find myself trapped in pins…I feel a stab, a grating chill: perhaps, I have no language when no one wants to listen.
Favorite Contest of Casarah Nance Posted 1/27/2014


Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014

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Be Gone , Do Not Look Me In The Eyes

Be gone..
Do not look me in the eyes 

We were not belongers
But,Intruders 
who happened to trespass 
into each other's  lives 

We were no Romeo and Juliette
But, Pretenders
Like moon rocks believing they are the ones
who light up the infinite sky


Be Gone..
Do not look me in the eyes

Let not my lips  go there
to that young and serene night
When we danced barefoot on the sand
with arms against the sadness of lost time

Your decision has been made

The last petal  of an untouched margarita 
withered in dust and rain

And you never asked Why 

Be Gone..
Do not look me in the eyes

Do not remember me
Do not think of me

Forget my foreign whisper
like I 'll forget the wrinkle in your smile

There was never a better place
Nor will there be another time

The empty pages have been filled

Our unfinished book - Not anymore

I am a nobody ~   an echo in your hourglass  fading in the sand
an empty barrel without the sweetened wine
 

Do not miss me - Do not think of me - Do not need me

Who am I 
I' m just  your rehearsed dream  . a metaphoric lie

Be Gone
Do not look me in the eyes and say goodbye

I was never yours        You were never mine.

I was                       You were

Were you ?        Was I   ?




This poem isn't  about me or my life,  but inspired
by someone else's life.






Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2016

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Like Zephyr Breeze

Before I ever saw those eyes How deeply I loved you Before you read my first thought I found you Before you ever dreamt of my lips I kissed your smile I meant nothing to you and you were already my world I lived through every breath you inhaled till that same breath became a ghost from our past Tonight,I exist to live for what was Tomorrow,I live to exist for what will be I stopped calling your name I stopped searching your footprints Stopped seeking your arms I stopped believing in stars Yet, Sometimes in my soul's dusk of night through your cold absence,I feel you within me ever so soft, just like the wind Like zephyr breeze which left my cheek yet never gone.


Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2014

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PLEASE

~PLEASE~
 
Please pick me up!
Never mind I'm gonna fall, anyways
 
Please show me how to tie my shoes and sing a song! 
Don't worry mommy, I'll walk barefoot and teach myself one day
 
Please daddy show me how to ride my bike!
Never mind It takes up too much of your time
 
Mommy, please do not hit me again!
It's okay, I need to be taught a lesson
 
Cousin please do not touch!
Go ahead, they won't believe me anyway
 
Teacher, please defend me in school!
Never mind, my body is used to the abuse
 
Please don't tell me sleeping with you is the only way! 
Okay, I need to be loved even if it's for one night
 
Please teach me how to raise a baby!
It's okay, I can't blame others for my mistake
 
Please don't get violent when you drink tonight!'
If it makes you feel better hit me, 
I'll hide the bruise with makeup & tears
 
Please tell me that I'm beautiful!
Wait! Your right I'll never look like her!
 
Please someone call 911!
Never mind, it's only a broken bone
 
Officer, please don't take my husband?
Don't you know it was my fault, he loves me and won't hit me again
 
Please don't ask what happen to my face!
That's what I get for standing up and defending myself
 
Please God don't take my baby!
Go ahead and take her I don't deserve her
 
Please don't tell me your not in love with me!
I understand I'll never be worthy of your heart
 
Please don't walk away and break my heart!
It's okay, I never made progress or was good enough
 
Please someone help, I'm hurting inside!
Never mind my feelings don't count
 
Please God, can you hear me!
Please God, can you rescue me!
Please God, can you walk with me!
Please God, can you show me the way!
 
God- I was a baby, I was weak, and did not talk
God- you didn't protect me on my first fall
God- I was abandoned and neglected before I learned to crawl!
God- even you rejected all my prayers and call
 
I understand now I don't need nothing! 
I don't need no one at ALL
So PLEASE, PLEASE leave me alone, behind these walls 
.                              **
Please! If you read this teach me how to smile
WAIT! Smiles don't come with self blame & guilt

by;PD


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2011

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Dear Lucifer

I cannot compete with something as painstakingly glorious as you
Envy is but a humbling tumble down a steep, rocky hill
I am crushed in your fits of glory—your screaming for passion
My approaches are absolutely wrong
Therefore my communication is a weak, ransomed victim
Your poison arrow frog skin rubs against my exposed body
I happily accept my fate
For your beauty surpasses the ephemeral pain of the infectious reign
My erroneous, inevitable downfall
I hold you up—I feel the need to keep you tall!
Michael the Archangel did not insult you once, Lucifer
How then will I? 
How can I possibly be higher than you?-
Why would I want to?
I admire your freedom
I simply disregard your macrodomes of ever-worshiped flaw 
If I could allow myself, I would share in your glory
Only to add to it further
But as I am poisoned with the truth
I can only be your grounded pedestal
And though you flee from humility in its wake upon my brow
I realize everyday you are living for the grounded now
And I merely look to the unknown future
A place I dread where you unwillingly hold me up
Bonded in the ground with Death and Hades
You become my pedestal, and the worms my vineyard
My parasitic feet seer your glory
I am ever so sorry
I never wanted this renown

There was a time I do recall
When you overtook me in my sleep
I cried aloud in helpless acceptance
But soon I was forced in a croak of laughter
I felt your bitter poison
I felt pride at last
I thank you for it
I thank you for showing me

What I will never be

Dear Lucifer,
Provoke me no longer to praise your eternal existence
Generations of Evening take a hold of me now
And the fruit must be shared


Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013

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Father

 
On your last breath.. I told you there was nothing to forgive Stubbornness and bitterness - sure are a hard pill to swallow Four years and not a word from you How sad - your last words were full of rage No chance to rectify them - you left without saying a word In reality, you walked out a long time ago Tell me father - who was to teach me how to be a man? Tell me father - who was to teach me how to be a dad? Guess you didn't know yourself - for a father you never proved to be Lost with your demons - intoxicated by the evils of society The fear you caused to so many - did you ever ask yourself why? Leaving those who loved you behind - to chase decadence Seduced by sinful deeds - your forgot you had a son Isn't a father supposed to be a child's hero? Even from a distance - I still loved you for being my dad You made me strong - told me never to cry Forgive me father - the tears didn't stop when I saw you dying It was too much to hold them for so long - guess I'm only human But, I promise you - I have not shed another tear since that day You told me - son live to be feared - no need to be loved But, I don't want to be like you - I have too much love to give I guess you were right - after all I am my mother's son You had your favourites and I guess I wasn't one of them In reality - it is because of you I am so strong because, I never wanted to be anything like what you had become I know that you're looking down at me from up above Tell me father - are you proud? Of all that I have become? For at the end of the day it's your name I have Cancer took you away - does it make you happy I survived? You can't really miss something that you never had Guess, I will always wonder what it is like to have a dad You took away my childhood - but I hold nothing against you Life was dysfunctional, but I didn't succumb to your manipulation All is forgiven - I hold no grudges - life is full of challenges Sometimes your thoughts cross mind - but then they just go away I know you were misunderstood But I hope you found your peace today.. 13 October 2015


Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2015

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The Scent Of Your Soul

The scent of your soul a caramalized breeze of fruit odours reverbrating softly through my memory Throwing me right back in ninth grade where we sat side by side Your right arm reaching slightly for my back Your name resonates gently with my spirit as thoughts of you dwell in my mind Carrying me back to the shade of purple grape orchids in evergreen woods Our first kiss perched upon last autumn's twig still lingers in early morn's bone-china cup wafting its pungent aroma of dark roast coffee beans and so the smell of rubber tyres against the wind Such revoked moments of unknown danger and defiant fun Other moments of beauty and snow angels Of freedom and moonlights,sunrise and life I can still recall the days,months,and years till our footprints marked seperate paths Ah,those days,those last hours,How can I forget? Sweet as frosty vanilla and chocolate chips of an ice-cream parlour Melting as spongy marshmallows and honey syrup Fresh as the colour of every new dream which haunts me llike an alluring glance of almond-shaped eyes This afternoon,like other afternoons I walk to the library which knows the musky sweat of your palm upon my own That fragrance 's gone now,all that is left is the fading perfume of forgotten petals between old books and dust No one here except my silence ,and a rotten sliced apple vacuum packed,lacking its cinnamon and even its spice. Back home the mildewed strings of a guitar await my fingertips to play once more upon the worn out chords of my vacant heart What will I play,what will I sing,a song which isn't ours? Fermented wine I poured into a glass Yearning to taste its purple grape for what it was before all it was turned out bitter,acidic and sour I wondered about where you might be,distant or not as far Listening to my voice on once upon a record player Or Wishing on a star ?
A repost (written : 10/15/2014


Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2015

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In Purple Fields We Dance

 
Stay a little longer come closer to my heart Breathe dew breeze on my neck's nape do not yet depart Play for me bagpipe music Blindfold all my starving fears Let the dulcet tones of your voice give us back those harvest years Make of the citrus moon a ballroom Hold me firmly from both hands Lift me high to touch the star-sky Show me how young peasants dance Let my soothing fingers trail across your caloused sun -soaked skin In purple fields Come chase me in that place our souls have been Take me away with you where this world is out of sight Where unspoken thoughts and heartbeats are enough to blaze the night.


Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2015

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My Rose Was Not Seasonal

My cherished one... Here I am ,alone with stone wall paper in the silence of my room. The pit-pattering raindrops upon my windowsill help me to remember, outside is cold and vacant too. Here I lay , on my dark brown couch like on other nights and many afternoons. Here I stay ,undisturbed ,with a pen in my left hand Provoked to put black ink to paper Seduced to write down unconscious thoughts Terminal thoughts and deepest aches wrapped in the echo of your absence. If only you 'd knew , my rose was not seasonal Its crimson still bleeds ,like in yesterdays , now gone. Its perfume still lingers between forgotten postcards and the impossibility of separation. Its petals once blown , still float across the boundless ocean The same ocean that moves ,that spreads breathlessly between our lands , our lips and hands, but not our hearts Nor the hundred fantasies that still reveal your footprints along my distant winding paths .
Inspired by Adele's latest song - 'Hello '


Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2015

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Honourable son

I gaze upon a painting from decades ago. My beloved son at a T-ball game.  How focused you are, while the other children were distracted.  The other parents always so rowdy, but I was happy just to watch you play.  Nobody expected the kids to make a catch, but you did and I was so proud.  I'm so honoured to have you as a son, the only one who has remained focused on his parents.

eyes like an eagle
gloves hunting the ball for prey
smile brighter than sun

I still remember the day you told me you were going to war. "Mum and dad don't cry, pray for me. I will be home soon" you said.  I was so scared for my beloved child. Whenever I looked at you all I saw was that infant from years ago. A child becomes an adult, but you were always a baby in my eyes. The days always seemed darker after that, the rain heavier, snow colder and the wind stronger.  Always patiently waiting for any communication.  There were days my heart ached for you and tears never stopped falling. Thanksgiving and Christmas were never the same. Everyday I prayed for you to be safe.

seasons change with time
nocturnal insomnia
soul hibernating

My prayers were answered when you returned safely. Still the noble son that had left to protect our country.  Not just a hero to the nation, but my biggest one.  You being home was like the first day of spring.  Everything was colourful and flowers began to bloom.  Holding you - my heart was finally at peace.

sun is shining bright
birds sing their beautiful songs
love has returned home

My first attempt at a traditional Haibun.
Oil Paintings 4 & 5 - Poetry Contest by Eve Roper
The Silent One
28 November 2015





Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2015

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Alien Feet

ALIEN                             -NOT-                               HUMAN


 Alien life form---                                             ---Far from human toucH
 Living among it self---                              ---In the heavens like a gurU
 Intelligence kept from civilization---      ---Scientist call it a phantoM 
 Earth remains alone---                                           ---Like a secret ninjA 
 NASA's top secret---                                           ---You are not humanN

 BY:                             .                                 BY:


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2013

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The Ballad Of Poet Destroyer

"The Ballad of The Poet Destroyer"

Destroyer, and creator of words
Flying high on the wings of a bird
Drowning every inch, by foes and friends
Where has she gone?

When push came to shove, 
She continued standing tall after every fall
Falling fearlessly like the falling star tapping the lips
Topaz, a star in the eyes of envy the enemy
A dreamlike, miracle mirage, fresh like mints
No reason in remembering yesterday's sad song
Slightly she moves in with the new barren breeze,
A maze in disguise, no way out
A feeling so good, you hate
The naming of names, that won't escape you 
Your eyes of lust, imitate PD's sweetest touch, 
Destruction, with pleasure
A new day, killed by the morning after pill
Everyone gone, shadows remain
Where, has she gone? 

A feeling so good, you hate
Your unmatched precision, wobbles your stability
She'll give you a taste of rays, despite your low self-esteem 
Happiness turns to sadness, making every jaw drop
Where has she gone?

She's not the painting of Mona Lisa, 
However, it does not stop you from spending your cash-
-To see a picture painted with a frown,
Look what you've done!

Never to return, what was, what is!
You say you love her, then you run
A dry barrel, an empty gun, 
Never will the enemy be number one, 
Nothing but a shadow, a rug for PD,
Like a dream, her imagery is haunting
Love her or leave her, her pen name remains
Poet O' Poet where are you?

Advocate of smiles, enjoy her copy paste kiss
Trace her silhouette found in the midnight mist
Blindfolded, indulge by the wind
Breaking, the Texas Hold EM' Hand
Her freedom, her land
Gone insane, she laughs, 
Untouched she remains, she lives
Inside of me

By; PD


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014

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A Well-Known Stranger

'Twas a sound I thought alarming, most assuredly disarming;
Up I rose from peaceful slumber to discern what it might be.
While my candle flickered, wavered; whilst my heartbeat halted, quavered,
At my window I was favoured by it sounding, dreadfully-
In the darkness loudly pounding- drawing nearer, dreadfully
As if calling out to me.

When the window I unshuttered, as my heart so wildly fluttered
Sounded forth the sound, and nearer, sounded forth so dismally:
And I heard the tempest sighing, through the trees and chimneys crying,
As if left alone and dying by some God-forsaken sea-
Quite forsaken, quite abandoned by the inky, lifeless sea,
Just as black as black can be.

There I stood a moment longer as the wailing winds grew stronger.
'Tis, I thought, but silly fancies dreamed imaginatively;
For there's nothing coming, leaving, and the night can be deceiving;
Yes, the wind was only breathing on the ancient maple tree,
Which was rapping on the shutters in the night, incessantly-
This was all that it could be.

Then a furious arctic guster gathered might and main and muster
And with hands so cold and clammy put my candle out while he
Wrapped his chilling hands around me, in his frozen grip he bound me;
I, his presence all around me groaned and grumbled in the dark;
As I groped and griped and stumbled, groaned and grumbled in the dark-
While he laughed so wickedly.

To the window, pitter-patter, I rehasped it with a clatter
Then relit and watched my candle as it flamed assuredly,
While it lit the old surroundings; but then how my heart was pounding!
As I gazed at the astounding standing on my posted bed,
Perched above the feathered pillows where I rest my weary head,
Perched there unashamedly.

"Ah," said I, "this nameless flutter sounding, pounding on the shutter
It was only this dear fellow trying so determinedly
To gain entrance to my dwelling, all to bring this piece of spelling,
And there really is no telling who has sent him here to me
'Till I read the little letter fastened on below his knee,
That he bears so cheerfully.

I undid the purple ribbon tied about the charming pigeon,
Quite forgetful of his presence as I read absorbedly.
I spent little time deciding who had sent this piece of writing,
For it bore me happy tidings in a hand I knew so well;
In a cheerful, laughing manner, so it was not hard to tell
That it was from my Melody.

"My favourite ribbon, I've untied it from my hair and wrapped inside it
All the words I wish to say, but am too far to tell to thee."
From this point and on hereafter I omit her words of laughter,
Words that make my heart beat faster; words that stop it suddenly:
Words that make me melancholy; words that make me shout with glee-
Words sent by my Melody.

When I'd traced each perfect letter, I was thinking clearer, better;
I set out some feed and water for my friend, repentantly.
"Pigeon," said I, "rest beside me; walls and roof shall safely hide thee
From the tempest roaring blindly o'er the inky, lifeless sea."
And I squinted through the shadows where he perched there silently;
Resting, sleeping peacefully.

Drawing near, I kissed him gently, thinking all the while intently
That the very place I kissed him once was cradled tenderly
By the hand I wish was holding onto mine, and deftly molding
Into mine, and mine enfolding, that of her who wrote to me;
That of her so far away across the inky, lifeless sea-
That of dearest Melody.

Entered In Kelly Deschler's Contest, "The Raven"


Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2014

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Thirty-Eight, Cancer Poem: For Sharon

Thirty Eight ( Corny Cancer Poem) For Sharon

Hallmark has a million cards in their catalog
And not one of them says,
Life Sucks
American greetings had nothing that says
Thirty-eight and  Never coming home
So I hope it’s not too late to write this poem


After your eighth round of Chemo,
The Doctor says the best medicine is prayer
Any Pre-med drop out
Or High school Health student
Can interpret what this means
But it still just isn’t fair-


           Still who am I to be a pessimist?


And I apologize for screaming at your surgeons
(Telling  them to stop comparing 
your tumors to fruit)
For telling them you aren’t a damn fruit stand
Even for tossing those fruit diagrams 
In the Hazmat can

Sorry if I let things get out of hand

Tomorrow they get to pull out
Their zapper instruments
And shoot at your cells like you are
One of those Nintendo video games
Over and over again
And I get to sit in the waiting room
Hoping the red cells surrender
And the white ones win

  
And Tylenol has a zillion dollars
And can’t even find a cure for cancer
Bayer pharmaceuticals has no answer

And if you die at thirty-eight
I’ll probably boycott Tylenol
For the next twenty-three years
Advil for the next twenty-two
Blaming both of them
For not saving you


Forty calls to Bayer pharmaceuticals 
And not a single one returned
What kind of heroes are they
When they aren’t even concerned?


And I’m pissed off at Obama
And Dr. Phil and Oprah too
And all Nationally syndicated talk show host
Who are talking about who slept with who
When they should be talking about 
YOU


I’m also ticked at a thousand Nazis
And twenty millions gangbangers 
And eight-hundred serial killers
Who have working organs
When all you need is just one-


Still I know you wouldn’t even accept it
Even if there was a law that said you could
And you would say something corny like
God loves bad people as much
As he does the good

And i wish i could snatch 
half of my lymph nodes
And give them to you
But no Doctor would approve the surgery

So what else can i do
Except write this silly poem for you
except watch you lose weight and hair
And listen to doctors suggest prayer

And more chemo only means
More Hallmark moments at the hospital
And more crying, more dying
More doctors and chaplains lying


But mostly I’ll never get to figure out
How it took you thirty minutes
At Build-A-Yogurt in the mall
And they only had six flavors-
Even after I told you
Chocolate Coconut Sprinkle
 Was really the best of all


Tonight your children get to sleep in your bed
And pretend You’re coming home
And I get to cry for them and finish
This corny cancer poems


Copyright © Poet M.e. | Year Posted 2015

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Where Crimson Bleeds Its Rose

Under a blue moon He becomes my dream A secret uncloaked Emotion unveiled A mystery revealed Existence of warmth between my subconscious and implicit knowledge ..And it is there `Neath the soft spot of this heart where crimson bleeds its velvets upon his bare breath It is there where my blushed lips loose their virginity Where my fair cheeks suffuse with rosy glow It is there where fiery needs are fulfilled Fervent desires scorched Candlelit pleasures beheld It is there where alluring visions embrace my suppressed memory and take over this barren soul As his ardent voice calls in an enticing whisper and a unique accent into my left ear My love... Mon petite fleur.. Mi amor... That is a preserved time An uncloned moment where my unwholiness becomes whole That is the minute His glancing eyes capture my own Only until... Mr Sandman leaves behind Dry proposals on wet sand Early mist envelops the bridge Aurora glows in new awakening Last zephyr breeze fades from my cheek Then He is gone Forever gone
A revised repost~Not for the rose contest..but thanks for Vie's Roses contest and wonderful Rose poems I decided to revise this post and repost,till the muse plays along.


Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2014

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The Scent Of Your Soul

The scent of your soul a caramelized breeze of fruit odours reverberating softly through my memory Throwing me right back into ninth grade where we sat side by side Your right arm reaching slightly for my back Your name resonates gently with my spirit as thoughts of you dwell in my mind Carrying me back to the shade of purple grape orchids in evergreen woods Our first kiss perched upon last autumn's twig still lingers in early morn's bone-china cup wafting its pungent aroma of dark roast coffee beans and so the smell of rubber tyres against the wind Such revoked moments of unknown danger and defiant fun Other moments,of beauty and snow angels Of freedom and moonlights,sunrise and life I can still recall the days,months,and years till our footprints marked separate paths Ah,those days,those last hours,How can I forget? Sweet as frosty vanilla and chocolate chips of an ice cream parlour Melting as spongy marshmallows and honey syrup Fresh as the colour of your soul, which haunts me like an alluring glance of almond-shaped eyes This afternoon , like other afternoons I walk to the library which knows the musky sweat of your palm upon my own That fragrance 's gone now.All that is left is the fading perfume of forgotten petals between old books and dust No one here except my silence,and a rotten sliced apple vacuum packed ,lacking its cinnamon and even its spice. Back home,the mildewed strings of a guitar await my fingertips to play once more upon the worn out chords of my heart What will I play,what will I sing ,a song which isn't ours ? Fermented wine I poured into my glass Yearning to taste its purple grape for what it was before all it was turned bitter,acidic and sour I wondered about where you might be ,distant or not as far Listening to my voice on once upon a record player Wishing on a star ?
Not for the contest But thanks for the inspiration Contest name-The Scent Of Your Soul


Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2014