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Best February Poems

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

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New February Poems

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

February 15 2015 by Gibson, Jennifer
February 16 2015 by Gibson, Jennifer
February 16 2015 by Gibson, Jennifer
February 13, 2015 by Gibson, Jennifer
February 13 2015 by Gibson, Jennifer
February 9 2015 by Gibson, Jennifer
February 8 2015 by Gibson, Jennifer
February 6 2015 by Gibson, Jennifer
February 6 2015 by Gibson, Jennifer
February 6 2015 by Gibson, Jennifer

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The Best February Poems

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- FEBRUARY -



The ground is chained in frozen iron
Snow crystals glued on pine cones
Overhangs embroideries of polished ice
The wind shakes and shatters them into millions of pieces


Slowly more brightness toward longer days
A new light is born across a white landscape
With its beauty and bliss a squirrel in a pine tree
Thoughts and reflections how beautiful it is







04.02.2016
A-L Andresen :)


Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2016

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Statuary Gray

White overshadows winter’s array,
and you fear color will never show. 
For blanketed, within a bland duvet,
depression deepens with falling snow.

Skeletal trees, like sculptures of clay
stand silent, as outstretched fingers freeze.
And seem stenciled, statuary gray,
edges blurred by an icy breeze.

The frigid air, wrestles your breath away,
accompanied, by unyielding cold.
And muting the sound of children’s play,
melancholy thoughts, strengthen their hold.

Deepening pot holes, cause nerves to fray,
and anger broods, within shadows cast.
For folks speculate on spring's delay,
dashing hopes, that this weather won’t last.

Purple and scarlet, tint the sun’s rays,
yet, sunset chills you to the bone.
For when dusk dims, on such dreary days,
you feel abandoned, and all alone.


Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015

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ELEMENT OF WATER-BEARER


Unorthodox, this water- bearer rules,
an Aquarian god moody yet calm in the
face of persistent winds…his pail of wine
gushing on mouths of February streams,
like an outpour into first night’s cycle
of unpredictable moves, reigning for thirty
days to unfold like a river-in-waiting,
this heir of brazen stars: a cool dip 
born from rose-yellow...red, maybe for
hearts to quiver upon Cupid’s aim.

Oh, his vision is light years ahead of time;
breaking from clasps of tradition,
his maverick streaks defy life's norms
and ignites a Uranus heart to signal 
the rise of new dawning…and while he
dives into a crest of independence,
fool he is for needing warmth and affection.
Yet,a blend of hermit's pride and gentleness
dares the element of air to brew a storm,
then romances the lusty sea of love in a flash...
pray tell, how can one define a mystery?



Though I'm Capricorn, this poem is for my
dear brother, my former boss, Sir Tory, 
a special guy mate, and close buddy, Arno.
------------
Leonora Galinta's Poem With A Theme,
Zodiac Sign Contest
by nette onclaud  7/09/2014 


Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014

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BLACK IN FEBRUARY

February is back
Black history
American’s telling tales of history
his story   not my story 
my story is still a mystery
existed long before slavery
long before so-called man of bravery
long before the pearly gates
long before time and the concept of being late
no disrespect to the ascended GREATS
their sacrifices I truly appreciate
but my story goes beyond the realm of senses
beyond unhappy homes hiding behind white picket fences
further than bare tits in Ethiopia
before Adam and I left Utopia
deep  deep  underground
beyond the first spec of light
beyond the first sound
Black  is the study of chemistry
360 degrees of self mastery
America’s telling tales of history
one month for Black
how many for White history?


Copyright © Nailah Baniti | Year Posted 2016

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Waiting In The Wing

Sunbeams weave through the twigs
of bare skeletal trees.
And a web of shadows
dance with each feisty breeze.

Snowflakes proliferate,
how much more can we take?
For cold clings to the ground,
holding onto each flake.

Silver skies look glazed,
like cheap carnival glass.
And the fickle sunlight's
too weak for blades of grass.

Sugar maples run dry,
not even one sweet drip.
And snowmen aren’t melting
embraced in Winter's grip.

Spring’s out there shivering,
while waiting in the wing.
And I can hardly wait,
for the warmth She’ll bring.


Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015

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This Beautiful

This Beautiful

close your eyes now and dream of lands
we'll build our future upon those sands
open your ears now and let me whisper
let me tell you how we'll get there

hold my hand now and feel so safe
we'll be flying high above everyone else
rest your head now on my shoulder
even when we stop this feeling's not over

until the horizons of your heartbeat
to the earth beneath your feet
beyond the warmth of your breathe
I'll never let go, of this beautiful

open your heart now and let love inside
see what i see looking into your eyes
wrap your arms around and hold on tight
that feeling of you too much to embrace

open your eyes now awake to your sunrise
you are my day and my sweet night
close your eyes now and where they met
we will grow old underneath your sunset

until the horizons of your heartbeat
to the earth beneath your feet
beyond the warmth of your breathe
I'll never let go, of this beautiful

no matter where we end
we'll have found the kingdom
that place inside your heart
that place we've dreamed of...

until the horizons of your heartbeat
to the earth beneath your feet
beyond the warmth of your breathe
I'll never let go, of this beautiful


Copyright © Andrew Resital | Year Posted 2015

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Lost Identity: View point of a slave

Why is my skin color different?
Did God make me this way?
When he made me, did he have
intentions on me being a slave?

And I thought we were all brothers,
including all the ones of different colors.

But why are they beating and hurting the others.
Someone save me, I didn't choose this life.
These scars, they've carved me with the sharpest
knives.

All I have is my faith.
Because if I'd held on to anything else
it'd be theres to take.

What is it that I ask for?
Equality, I preach.
Something small to you, 
but makes a difference
for me.

Whipping, spitting, hitting on me.
Raping our women in your wife's sheets.
Taking our children and turning them into workers.
No sense of empathy, grief or composer.

For the brotha' on my left and my sista' on the right,
with the courage that I hold I will continue to fight.
You have taken away my freedom, and most of my life.
But what you have failed to obtain is my state of mind.

Go ahead work my body, and do all that you please.
This is just a shell anyway, it's not coming with me.
You spit, you laugh, thinking you gained the world.
You think you have power because you've raped a young girl.

Stand tall sir with all of that pride.
And go ahead and hold it until the day that you die.
But your day will come when you'll fall to your knees.
Feeling the burn on your body from the whips you've given me.

"The LORD is my shelter,"
I continue to say.
While my soul goes up as God takes me away.
I wish you peace with smile on my face,
knowing that God teaches the fullness of grace.




Copyright © Amber Binford | Year Posted 2014

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All Lives Matter

Fear is what they clothe them in.
Fear of losing their life because of one mistake.
Fear of losing their life because an officer is having 
a bad day.

Some say it's not racism;
"It's police brutality."
Whatever you call it, I can't 
help but ask "where is humanity?"

Mothers weeping because they're losing their sons.
Teaching them to fight back with silence
but that is no weapon compared to a gun.

Six feet under, leaving families to fight for justice
over their lives.
Societies getting tired of it all-
starting riots and constructing strikes.

How many more time will history repeat itself?
Or are we still writing [his]tory , using coverups
as help?

All lives matter despite of their race.
All lives matter despite their mistakes.

In times such as these justice will demand to be served.
No matter how chaotic, crazy, or obscured.

Life is a gift, one that we should all treasure.
Because all lives matter and we need to protect them;
no matter the measure.


Copyright © Amber Binford | Year Posted 2014

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A poem for YOU

In this world of Uncertainties I’m the man that you can trust And in my words of sincerity That my love would never last. And if you could only feel, what i feel for you You can ask me “why?” so you can see the truth Like our love that tightens the rope, Like a light that would give us hope. As you watch the dark skies Let me grab the moon for you, And as I catch the bright stars That’s the way you can see me through As this planet turns as it always will And things go wrong and you don’t know what to feel Hold my hand for it will make us strong Like a wind, we will carry on The wind blow that sings a hymn for you For they know what does love means for the two Love is blind, and not deaf So how’s success if you’re not ready to bet? In this poem with full of rhymes, A full of love, Babe can you be mine? I don’t expect too much from you Why should I? If you complete my whole. “Till death do us part” that’s what they have said But why do struggles crash them ahead? Don’t ask me when my love will last, To count all of our quarrels, is that a must? Now and Forever is all that I promise No day dreaming and without reminiscence As the matter of time, as the time passes by Together we stand, together you and I
A poem for my Girlfriend for our anniversary :) pls comment and rate... you are free to judge and criticize my work :) God Bless


Copyright © Emmanuel Fajutagana | Year Posted 2013

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You

Roses are red like the color of my heart.
Violets represent the color of my face when I'm with you.
I know this is a bit cheesy but I...
Will say that you represent Aphrodite.
You're so cute like a kitten sleeping.
Or maybe a box full of puppies?
You make the word "emo" make me think of "emotes" and
The only emote I do is "loving you".
You could cut a C-Section in me and see all the butterflies.
My hands are almost broken from all the roses I picked for you.
The word "LOVE" to me means:
L - I love you , O - I love you , V - I love you , E - I love you
I'm not that creative like a 5 year old but...
You make me think of "Legos".
I can fit all of the pieces to build us together happily ever after!
I want to hug you like how I hug my pillow at night,
And when I fall asleep, I dream of you...
I wish I had more time to name reasons on why I love you,
But the hourglass I have shattered and 
It would take me more time to fix everything...
And let's be honest... No one would try to fix that stuff.
You also remind me of a scary roller-coaster.
I'm not saying you're scary but that good feeling people get when it
feels like their soul is being taken, because you take mine away.
I think I'm out of clever ways to say "You are amazing".
Maybe you could change this and help me find more.
I just want you to know that I love you, I love you, I love you.
So, as to what I was saying earlier:
Roses are red, Violets are blue
I Love You.


Copyright © Norbin Tiru | Year Posted 2014

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- Haiku X 46 -The Beauty of Spring -

 


   Born from soil SNOWDROPS
   ICY wind, frost in the ground
   An early SPRING signs 





   15.02.2015
   A-L Andresen :)
   Copyright © All Rights Reserved



Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2015

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No Love in Montreal, A Hockey Rivalry

Saturday, February the 14th of the year 2015
It's no Valentine's Day in the Great White North
It's the big Hockey Night in Canada
And to these fans, it's a night of epic rivalry

Saturday nights with the blue and white
Trying to play with all their might
Saturday nights with le bleu, blanc, et rouge
Trying to play all the way through

When the moment the puck drops,
A person's normal heartbeat stops
When the instant the puck hits the ice,
A rival's heartbeat is anything but nice

Toronto Maple Leafs - the long shot team
Will bring their honor to battle for this rivalry
Montréal Canadiens - the big shot team
Will bring their torch to burn on this rivalry

Two teams will battle for a victory right
Only one team will have victory upon being loyal
As for this Valentine's Day hockey night
There will be no love in Montreal


Copyright © Nileisha Giselle Deliz Diana | Year Posted 2015

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As Time Goes on

The days of March are dark and drear.
In April rain clouds still appear.
By May the weatherman we cheer,
And June is here, and June is here.

July brings forth the perfect rose.
In August we take off our clothes.
September we must don our hose,
And summer goes, and summer goes.

October the cool breezes blow.
November brings a hint of snow.
December time is all aglow,
Bright gifts with bow, bright gifts with bow.

In January a deep freeze.
Small February is a tease.
Bold March once more will try to please.
Time to plant peas, time to plant peas.

6/18/13


Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2013

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Jessica McCord: Selfish Assassin

It was February 2002 (WWF Raw, WWF SmackDown!, and WWF No Way Out), that Jessica McCord and her then-husband, Jeff, killed Alan Bates and his new wife, Terra. Before their deaths, Alan "A.B." was in a custody battle against his ex-wife to have determined who'll have gotten full custody of their two daughters (born in 1990 and '92). The custody hearing might have taken place in November 2001 (WWF Raw, WWF SmackDown!, WWF Rebellion, and WWF Survivor Series), but not until December 2001 (WWF Raw, WWF SmackDown!, and WWF Vengeance), when the lady had spent that time in jail for skipping custody hearings more than twice. It seems that Jessica had disapproved of both of her daughters having the late Terra for their step-mother. the only two things that describes Jessica McCord are selfish and a coward. She selfishly pulled both of her daughters out of their respective schools, she hid them away so that her late ex-husband couldn't gain full access to them, and/or whatever. So, the fact that Jessica McCord had used her own daughters as a pair of pawns as if she's been playing a game of chess had made the late Mr. Bates, the attorneys, and Birmingham Police officers of Birmingham, Alabama, very sick. The lady, Jessica, was afraid that the judge would grant Alan and his new wife, Terra, full custody of the girls, so she and Jeff killed them; thereby dumping both of their bodies in a burned-down car outside Atlanta, Georgia (aka Hotlanta, aka Dirty South, and aka ATL). Jessica McCord may have tried to label her late ex-husband as a bad guy, but no one bought it, not even her in-laws, the prosecutors, and the judge. She knew that she and her husband were going to get caught; they knew it. And where is Jessica McCord as of February 2003 (WWE Raw, WWE SmackDown!, and WWE No Way Out/World Wrestling Entertainment's first 'No Way Out' pay-per-view event, ever)? She's in prison, along with her then-loser husband, Jeff McCord, serving a life sentence in prison with no possibility of parole. Ms. McCord should've gotten the death penalty, but that's the way the law works. And as far as the Bates family, the entire community of Birmingham, and the two daughters are concerned, prison is exactly where they belong. Well, it looks like the ghosts of Alan and Terra Bates will be haunting the two-then McCords for life. Let's hope that the Bates sisters don't suffer the same fate their father and step-mother did. And if I see the Bates sisters in person, there's just no telling.


Copyright © Brashard Bursey | Year Posted 2011

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ALCHEMY


The calendar reports that February will be a short month. It lies. February is shackled to each of its endless, grey hours and this month will be cold and draining. People have packed up their Christmas lights. All is bleak, and my kitchen window has betrayed me.

frost on the pane 
constricts a view to blanched roofs-
windchill factor

Winter is pummeling the region with frigid fists. Today, I will cook with spice. Though some prefer the familiar respites of creamy potatoes or fresh baked bread, I long for my taste buds to tingle. I have been gifted three hours, time enough to saturate my senses. I’ve gathered my ingredients and start to prepare two dishes.

stinging tears
mingle with home comforts  –
minced onions

Cooking this way is intoxicating. I loose myself in texture and aroma. I turn the volume up on the CD player, allow the notes to stir me as I stir tea.  The music is sensual, evocative.

I tap a spoon
on a chipped cup that steeps chai –
Bollywood soundtrack

I forget the subzero temperatures, the punishing trek through snow with a large bag of groceries. My hips pick up the rhythm and respond to a tune that I can not translate but somehow understand, for the song is filled with longing. My feet move and the steps are defiant. While meat browns, I turn my back to all the white, the icy sidewalks and the clouds that have become ever-present and I glide to my spice drawer. 

I am making butter chicken, knowing it will tantalize the tongue, readjust the temperature gage. There is alchemy to spice. The magic begins with Garam masala. Later, turmeric’s pledge will be accepted by cumin. I take a deep breath and let the the fog of flavour chase away each chill. 

curry and cloves
transform the ordinary –
taste of India

Next, I begin on a recipe which I’ve modified. It is not quite Coque au Vin. I dredge the meat in Herbs de Provence. Root vegetables blend with crispy bits of bacon and chicken stock. Then, I combine fresh herbs, tuck them into cheese cloth, set it afloat and let the satchel share its wealth. 

savoury branches
wilt as broth simmers   –
bouquet garni 

I take my time tidying the mess which I’ve made. The poet in me takes a second look at the meals which now cook side by side, like twin continents on my counter. The cultures are distinct, west and east, and yet the aromas easily accommodate each other. There is no division, no conditions, no restrictions. Two territories, well seasoned and season-less. 

the warmth of the world 
escapes in steam from crockpots–
my contented sigh

Again, I inhale. Tonight, we will feast.  A view of the outside no longer matters. This small space has suddenly grown. Time has flown and winter will not cross this doorway.

I will not let it. 



Copyright © Cyndi MacMillan | Year Posted 2013

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AQUARIUS I AM

Clearly I am I.  
Carrier of EARTHS  NECTAR.
CONSTELLATION AQUARIUS.
Truth turns a TRANSPARENT BLUE.
WATER BEARER  I AM.
AQUARIUS AM I.
HONESTLY NO SCHEMES ALLOWED
I  AM  I, CLEARLY I AM 
AQUARIUS I  TAKE  A SOLEMN BOW
AQUARIUS  TO  AQUARIUS
AMEN 
AGAIN
AMEN


Copyright © VAL BROOKLYN Rogers BLK PANTHER | Year Posted 2014

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My Valentine

I lovingly waited for my Valentine
just to find out, he wasn't mine.

My emotions poured out and my 
tears were scattered, as they fell
to the floor, and shattered.

What a fool I must have seemed
to have fallen prank to Cupid's
day dreams.

Your wink of a eye or tender brush
by, didn't mean you were to be my Valentine.


Copyright © Sharon Gulley | Year Posted 2015

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Ode to Humphrey

The"tail" I have to tell, starts off really sad.
My sweet doggie Murphy died and my heart, it hurt so bad.
Until one day in early spring, I got a call that made my heart sing!
There were some puppies born in Waco, the daddy -Jasper, and mommy- Juneau.
Four little boys, three little girls. But the picture of one boy, made my heart twirl!
So I waited for a week or two, to meet my little puppy-oh so new!
I named him Humphrey, such a handsome boy! He has brought  laughter back and oh what a joy! He's super cute, and very smart. Many would say, he's a work of art!
He's learning new tricks, and how to potty outside. So many rules to learn and abide!
Humphrey is growing so quickly, the puppy breath will soon disappear. He will be an adult in less than a year! Every stage of his life is a blessing from above. I guess that's the true meaning of what we call "puppy love".




Copyright © Meghan Palmer | Year Posted 2013

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February Funny Bone


In the month of February 'twas fate
We chose our special wedding date
        A love, I cannot explain
        Couldn’t wait to take his name
So why do I still hyphenate?       


By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders, January 30, 2012
for Linda-Marie's February Funny Bone contest

First place finish


Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2012

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Ice Cold Out

Touching  any metal un-gloved,
Turns skin to tin, fingers on fire,
Breathing inside what’s above,
Kindles lungs to a stinging pyre.
Exhaled steam is white as a dove.
Some find refuge wearing eider attire,
But hours exposure ends the tropical cove.
After a while the icy novelty tires,
As keeping calm means the need to move.
Snowmen dread mercury higher,
For melting’s their fateful groove.
Winter’s funeral march has its criers,
But in shivering’s end there is no lost love.


Copyright © Chaim Wilson | Year Posted 2014

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New Day

its a new day i've gotta make a million today

and either way they gon hate so never mind what they say

i look in the mirror to move past the passe

i work to turn fear into yesterday

my ambition is pitiless

bottomless, hideous

if happiness can exist only in acceptance

please accept the fact im happiest in independence

please accept me and my introspection

please accept my need for more than just reflection

an outward projection of my innermost imperfections

self-expression leading to self-correction

i'm here, now, the clouds have all lifted

some soul food for the unrepressed and the afflicted

its like my whole mindset has shifted

imagine evidence more twisted, its vivid and unrestricted

unscripted, i can't tell whether im committed or addicted



the people want eden but these leaders won't lead'em

the newsfeeds feed'em but the legions need freedom

i am nothing and should be everything

i hope that one day ill settle for many things


Copyright © Ap Moon | Year Posted 2015

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Your Eyes

 (Dedicated to Folake)

Your eyes, woman
are like twilight rainbow
amorously bearing aloft passions of mine
toward androcytic ecstacy.
They tell of endless lights.

Night skies clarion the warmth of you
keep me balled-up till
i am tilted to your adorned essence.

May I call up words to adore you,
agglomerate them into a panoply of worshippers
unsandalled before you
like Moses at the burning bush.
 
And now you seem to fall asleep
but you tell me it's the heavy night
bidding toward a sunny dawn
wherein our love is lighted.

Slowly I let you fall asleep
impatient with the long night
waiting to gaze once more
into the eyes of my lovely love.

Then a lip is placed on yours
and you rouse up wide-eyed
smiling at my romantic move.
We enjoyed the night, cruising on.


Copyright © Onis Sampson | Year Posted 2013

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Talk to me

Talk to me
of vineyards
pungent with 
basil and thyme,
of fireflies, 
shooting stars, 
and long hot
summer nights.
For winter
has gone on 
much too long.


Copyright © Dave Will | Year Posted 2014

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FEBRUARY'S SNOWFALL

February
sends 
down
heavy
snow
trees
seem
old
men
with
beards
as
their
tears
freeze.
Snow 
hides
Nature's
landscapes,
no
birds
dares
to
fly,
but 
they 
stay
under
gutters
dreaming
like
me
of 
spring.


Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2014

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First and Last Kiss

Atop the road by the sea
Thou confessed thy affection for me
By a kiss as thy language of love
Ebbed from the copious desire thou have

A kiss from thee, my first love,
Something at last I have
My first love; my first kiss
I didn’t expect I’ll miss

‘Twas a kiss of farewell
For my love will depart and travel
Didn’t know when we’ll meet again
But I’m hoping it’ll happen

Though it’s heartbreaking,
I have to accept the pain I’m feeling.
The first and last kiss we had
Is the first and last kiss we’ll have?


Copyright © Flora Mae Gudez | Year Posted 2013