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Best Journey Poems

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

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New Journey Poems

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

journey of bliss by Osho, Francis
journey of bliss by Osho, Francis
Life's Journey by Scheidel, Philip
UNTOLD JOURNEY by Verma, Satish
The journey of a once a feeble mind by Dela Cruz, Wilbert
The tanker's Final Journey by Whelan, Rose
Journey to the center of the Earth by haakifa, ismath
My Super Power - Journey To Heaven by Haight, Sandra
Spirit's Journey by Blakiston, Roger
Life Is A Journey by Debassige , Patricia

View all new Journey Poems

The Best Journey Poems

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Indian Ink

“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 falling 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 haunting 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 pierced my skin
Removing 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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Tonight I Could Paint A Moonlight

Tonight is not like other nights Tonight I could paint a moonlight with the smudged ink of my tears No its not the inexperienced arms of death which are longing to embrace my breath that fill this soul with pain and fear Nor is it the breeze of thousand needles 'neath the soft glow of my skin , What scares me most is... Not being here in a twenty years or so to tread love's kiss upon my daughter's cheek Feel my fingers running through her hair Listen to the sweet sound of her laughter Make a wish under the unnoticed starry stars and watch her dance beneath a repetitive boring sky. What scares me most is... Not being here in a twenty years or so To let the crimson of my lips bleed its rose close to your pillow and its fragrance 'pon your bed Its not being here to hold your blemished hands and say to you all words still left unsaid What scares me most is... That in a twenty years or so You will be here , still hating candles,all alone, Its missing the chance, to share those words that don't make sense yet mean that I have loved you all along. In a twenty years or so ...In a twenty years or so Will the ones I hold so dear still find a way to know ?


Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2015

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SNOW GLOBE

Welcome to my ----- life
A beautiful broken aura
             Unsettled flakes
             The sound of yesterday
             Shattered winter glass
Transcend to the unconscious mind
Frozen, dead, yet alive
Hell, escapes my future of eternal suffering 
Tiny buttons of snow -fall to my feet
Firewood burns endlessly,
The hairs of her soft skin rise like wheat
Shadows by hand flip the hourglass
The possibility of change takes  --- need
She stands on the outside of my dreams
Looking in;
Quietly she summons the cold legion 
Confused, trying to cleanse her soul 
She wipes off old fingerprints 

White glitter, forgotten notes
Spiritual spells enhanced in a quiet villa
Shadows of hands toss the glow
Daydreaming inside another dream
Falling flakes in hopes of peace
A warm bedded cabin sits at ease
Observing, breathing, mind settling
Swirling into an earthy feel
Another long downward drift
 
Shadows of hands set the tide
She awakens, sharing the stars
She mocks the sun, her eyes sparkle
Covered in snow - aging peacefully
She fibers to soothe her soul
She reeks, neither heaven nor hell
Temporary punishment, rattling thoughts
Captured in a transparent globe
Passing through a purgatory world
No walls, no in between
Falling far from the echoes of life
Sacrificed by death before salvation 
Transcending to the unconscious mind
             Shattered winter glass
             The sound of yesterday
             Unsettled flakes
A beautiful broken aura
Depart from my ----- life             

By: PD


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015

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Sand Castle De Mal

~Sand Castle De Mal~

Beauty sails along the shores of life
Out there broken dreams form above sand dunes
Silent, God listens to the triumph of his creation



3-14-2015
3 line verse


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2015

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- A One Way Ticket -



Hills come alive with sweet sounds of birds whistling tunes
Filled with harmonious peace, you sail within time
Gentle whispering winds through branches of trees call

When you dare to take the first step forward
Everything feels so easy embracing such beauty 
Mixing voices of nature talk deeply flowering 

Thrown into the unknown life is truly magical
A universe inside feelings explode in one gift
The soul eclipsing delight warmed with sunshine rays

Like a virgin being on guard of the tiger claws, lions, bears and snakes
Only when your starlight kisses clouds evaporate 
Time continues and the butterfly waltzes freely once more

Crossing paths in this journey new beginnings grow
Small wild strawberries threaded upon a stem beg to taste
Opening one gateway within thoughts 

Setting sail into another world beyond 
With you salt of the ocean waves rise and fall
Upon rocks kissing pillar of strength

A cool breeze says goodbye upon your cheek
Loving spices land this boat on paradise sands where gold sparkles warm beams
When we meet at Heaven's gate batting lashes close entering a doorway into a dream 





Written by L. Mcdaid & A-L Andresen :)  05.09.2015 
Copyright © All Rights Reserved


Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2015

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WORKSHOP POEM: GRAND TOUR TO FAIRYLAND

WORKSHOP POEM: GRAND TOUR TO FAIRYLAND Sprinkled-rainbow clouds reign above the skies, peeping yellow in-between wrinkled pillars shine like bulbs to crash the net of fog attached to curve hands of green Cathedrals. A carpet of bluebells and daffodils covers the earth below. Creeping slow are mosses and vines hugging the trees. Polka dots of blood rich roses stand out. Festoons of lavanders, garlands of lilacs marched a primrose path for the queen while the fruits from cherries' hush blush; to peaches supple flair winks on mellow pear. Afloat midair are high and low golden notes trembling free upon river runs and bushes land. Snaps and bounds from strums of bumblebees; signal the nightingales to sing their anthem loud; Their thumps of dulcet-sounds shake the hours. Scents pure as Spring May cocoons the fair while all around swirls the dragonflies-- the star dancers of the sun-kissed day. Rushing wind whistles a lullaby to cast a spell of never-never-land, for there live... thumb-size flying creatures of their kind. Regal in blinding white are the fays and fairies. __________________________________________________ NEW TITLE: MY TRIP TO FAIRYLAND Rainbow-sprinkled clouds marching above the skies, Sun's golden rays peek in-between curved hands of lush green Cathedrals crashing the net of fog sleeping on the ground. A carpet of bluebells plus flashing violets exhale scents on the air. Sly-like mosses and vines hug the trunk of trees. Polka dots of blood rich roses pose, standing grand. Festoons of lavanders, garland of lilacs, swelling banana blossoms, cherries hush-rush blushes with peaches winking flair on frowning pears all prod to honor the queen. High and low golden notes tremble free upon river runs to proud bushes land. From strums of bumblebees are leaps and pounds, luring nightingales'anthem on a merry-dancing groove. Thumps of dulcet-sounds shake the passing hours, Rainbow hues cocoons the fair while all around dragonflies twirl and dive- they, the star-dancers of that sun kissed day. Impressed wind whistles the lullaby spelling never-never-land, for there... there live.. thumb-size flying creatures regal in blinding white-- are the fays and fairies. ______________________________________________ POEM OF THE DAY ---April 07, 2015 ©O.E> Guillermo 9:52 pm, April 05, 2015


Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo | Year Posted 2015

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Pass the Light House

~ CALYPSO ~

Odyssey of the open ocean 
Eclipsing the performance of Heaven's delight 
A beautiful name whispered along the night 
Calypso enhanced with enchanted lullabies 
Sweet silver streams, dreamy epic diamond dreams
Serendipity falls in like mist, under the majestic marble moonlight
Calypso, you belong to--
--Sunsets of the secret sea. 
Mysterious-- many precious places to go, 
Calypso --free flowing, floating legend! 
Ride the beastliness breeze above the sea 
Whisper, Calypso come for me! 
Beautiful Comforting, Calypso Carry me! 

Reflections easily deliquesce into thin air
Sedating the open waters -Voyage- view 
Visionary Vessel above liquid level, 
as divine in spirits she sails. 
CA-LYP-SOO-- Nymph Nature Name 
Aquatic belief-----------------------
CALYPSO, the journey of all journey's 
For all eternity----------------------

:)


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

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MOON and SEA

~Moon & Sea~

Hey boy won't you open that door?
Let's sing and walk by the shore

Come and spread out your eyes
Block looking for reasons, and whys?

The cosmos are more than a space to explore
Don't hide when I need.... Plus more.

Finish playing a master in disguise!
Lets find the perfect sunrise, sunset surprise. 

Put your arms around me
Allow your moon to reflect off my sea

Too much time has passed you by
Come outside with and view the horizon up high

I've got my eyes set upon you
There's no need to feel blue

Hey boy comes, climb up this tree!
I'm going to show you all the things you can't touch, you can't see.

Lets fit the luxury and beauty of this world into our play.
Don't say them words that will set me free to walk away.

Take this kiss and see how it feel deep within your heart.
Close your eyes in my garden, and draw with the fragrance of art

I want to take you into that space, astronomy love.
Making it easy to float with the clouds way up above.

Glide away from the blame of gravity and self destruct.  
Bounce of the dust of hurt when you fall and get cut.

Boy, let's hold in this perfect air together.
Leave the cold end of someone else's weather.

Follow me beyond the distance of chemistry.
I will expose your moon and explain the physics of my sea. 

Give it another chance and you will see!
Your moon, is skin deep, needing water from me. 

Turn on the tune in your heart, and listen to me. 
In every sunrise, the moon entwines with the sea. 


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2011

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The Devils Riddle

The Devils Riddle


Dark is the night
Dark is the soul
Dark is the heart that used to glow

Empty are the rainbows falling from the skies
Empty of the spirits when the darkness flies by
Empty is the treasure chest of dreams long gone

Tombs hold secrets of mysteries past
Tombs hold the dark to ensure it will endure
Tombs full of treasures are barren at last

Stones are grey in silence they sit
Stones are markers of the dark run amiss
Stones look up to overcast skies



   death looks down, the final curtain call
   smirks and winks, I will soon have you all
   dark and empty you shall soon be enslaved
   to the mysteries of dark empty ways
   there is no final place that you shall rest



emoH the angel of death has declared
“oN graves the trumpets play as I shall sing”


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2014

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Memories Of Bygone Days

Memories Of Bygone Days


O' yes,  how well I remember her still
giant black oak atop big wooded hill
Those treasured days now long flown by
our free spirits flying so very high

Summer days within Nature's fine realm
majestic views that did so overwhelm
Cloudy days in the meadow far below
flowers galore, O' what a great show

My lady and I went up there to park
glorious scene set our hearts to spark
Under canopy of that old massive oak
she sweet words of undying love spoke

Our tree saw our love start to bloom
picture of that oak in our bedroom
Two years it watched our love grow
how was it to ever see or dare know

Life came and flew on us so fast
love came deeply but failed to last
Fate sent us onto far different treks
love destroyed, both lives were wrecks

Now I pass that massive tree on the hill
memory recalls her beauty , what a thrill
Time destroyed the scene it ruled then
O' the love of what should, could have been

JULY 2015





Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015

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One World

Love is not a color,
No hue, neither a race.
All of our blood is the same, 
That runs deep within our veins.

If we could lift up each other,
And know that we all care.
If we help our sisters and brothers,
There's a bond that we'll share.








©2013 Honestly JT


Copyright © Honestly J.T. | Year Posted 2013

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A Poem of Ruth

The tears well up, and scarce could she not moan
When father, brother, husband, all have died.
She now has no possessions, neither home,
But travels to a distant, unknown land:
Once so secure, yet now compelled to roam;
Once rich in love, she treads through foreign sands.
Her weary feet move forward but by faith;
For all left to her name is mere belief:
Mind, heart so far away she seems a wraith-
Love, happiness- all taken by a thief.

When, sometime since, her heart had broke in two,
The path of life, once single, parted way;
Forsake she could, but this she would not do-
All else was gone- with mother she would stay:
"Intreat me not to leave thee," was her plea,
"For whither thou wilt go, there will I; pray
Forbid me not to follow after thee,
For where thou lodgest I would also stay:
"Thy people shall be mine, thy God my God;
And where thou liest, I will gladly lie
Beside thee, overhead the selfsame sod;
That even then thou mightest be closeby.

"And so they twain walk on, hand clasped in hand;
Both hold the only thing they yet possess:
The younger but a stranger in the land,
An enemy, a widow in distress.

She rose before the sun to find a place
Where she might gather barley ears and wheat;
A field where she might find some needed grace
To gather for their winter store of meat:
Then Boaz comes from Bethlehem, and see,
He tarries with the reapers of the wheat:
He comes to Ruth and says, "Hear'st not thou me?
Remain until the harvest is complete:
"Go not from hence, but in my fields abide,
And let thine eyes be on the field they reap;
Behold, these maidens thou may'st work beside,
And near the reapers thou may'st ever keep."
Then to her face she fell, and wond'ringly
Asked why to her, a stranger, was so kind;
And he replied that she unfailingly
Had cleaved unto her mother with one mind,
And left her father, mother, and the soil
Of her nativity, and kissed the dust
Of some strange land wherein she meant to toil;
Forsaking gods of Moab God to trust:
"The Lord," said he, "reward thee for thy deeds,
 And recompense thy labour and thy love:
The God of Israel answer all thy needs,
And make his wings a shelter from above."
 Then said the maid, "My lord, please let me find
Some grace and favour in thy blessed sight,
For that thou hast been friendly, spoken kind,
And I am but a stranger in the night."
Then Boaz said, "At mealtime here abide;
Rest in the shade, come, sit with us and dine:
So down she sat, a reaper on each side;
She ate her wheat and dipped her bread in wine.
Then Ruth arose, and to her work she leaves:
The master thus commands his servant men,
"Let this young maid glean e'en among the sheaves;
Rebuke her not, for she shall come again;
And let some handfuls fall onto the ground,
There let them lie for my sake and for hers
That she may glean and plenty may be found;
For reasons she has need of it are pure."
And as she worked, Ruth knew not what a sight
Of beauty and of diligence she made,
As in the golden field in sunset's light
She bowed her head and knelt as if she prayed.

It came to pass that in his fields she stayed
Until the end of barley harvest came,
When mother told the lovely little maid
To seek for his provision and his name.
She washed and dripped an oil filled with sweet
Perfumes of wild roses on her face:
She had not much; her beauty was complete
With but her finest clothes to seek his grace.
Her braided hair shone brighter than the gem
That never graced her soft and shapely form;
Her eyes, they sparkled brighter than the hem
Of gold and pearls that she had never worn:
Thus Ruth went down unto the threshing floor
Where Boaz winnowed barley till the night,
And peeked at him so shyly 'round the door;
She never let him leave her searching sight.
His workday done, the master ate and drank;
With happiness his heart was full when fed:
Then by a heap of wheat he went and sank
Into the furry robes that made his bed;
And Ruth, a while watching till he sleep
Kept vigil from a stone used as a seat,
Till when his eyes had closed and sleep was deep
She lifted up the cover from his feet
And softly laid her down and dreamed of brides
Until the watchman struck a dozen beats,
And being startled, Boaz woke and spied
A woman sleeping at his very feet:
"Who art thou?" queried he in sleepy voice;
"Thine handmaid, Ruth," was her unsure reply;
Then blessed he her for wise and kindly choice,
For passing poor and rich young fellows by.
"And now, my daughter, gladly shall I do
According to thy wishes, for all here
Consider thee as virtuous and true;
Howbeit, there is one to thee more near,
A kinsman who must duly have his say:
If he decline, then rest assured I will
Perform the part of kinsman." So she lay
Down at his feet, and both were quiet, still.

In grey of early morning she arose,
Before a face could be discernéd there;
To keep from what some people might suppose
And who might stand along the road to stare:
Then Boaz said, "Bring here the vail thou hast
Upon thy head and hold it in thy hand:
Six times the barley measure filled and passed
From heap to vail as much as she could stand.
Then Boaz went up to the city gate
To find the nearer kinsman, whom he sought,
To see if he would purchase the estate
Of Ruth, and she herself, but he could not;
So Boaz purchased all the widows' land;
The houses, barns, and fields, though overgrown;
And bought what pleased him most, Ruth's comely hand
To cherish and to make his very own:
Then Boaz went to find the handmaid, Ruth
And lift her from a servant to a wife;
To love her in all tenderness and truth
In every day God blessed them both with life.



[By Isaiah Zerbst. Published 9/7/14. Parts of poem have been removed due to soup's limitations.]






Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2014

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The Arc Of Life



Travelling through life resembles an arc We start out as a child emerging from the dark To reach a crescendo Establishing a tempo Then sadly we all must eventually disembark © Jack Ellison 2015


Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2015

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My day as a woman

When I awoke, a woman I'd become
The spirit of many, contained in one
Strength and beauty, mystical tears
Magical entity, who hated mirrors

Looking at reflection, I seen my flaws
Yet in the background, I heard applause 
Others seen me, with much different eyes
I listened too their voices, discarded my lies

The blood of creation, flowing in my veins
A brave warrior, a vision with brains
Nurture and strength, complicated friend
Passion personified, a master of pretend

Layers of lovely, deeper than a well
If you love me, I have a secret to tell
Loyal and fierce, sometimes hiding my face
Push me to far, I'll be gone without a trace

My day has ended, time to go to bed
Still words unspoken need to be said
Yet in the end I turn back into a man
Enriched by women, I am who I am

For Women Only Contest 2
By: Richard Lamoureux 
Perhaps you will allow me to be an honorary woman 
Either way I enjoyed writing this poem. Thanks for the inspiration.


Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014

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Call Of The Wild

I envy those living as part of the wild For I too, once heeded its call A smoldering ember since I was a child Urge, and belonging all part of the thrall. I’ve enjoyed the fresh taste of a sparkling stream Felt the tremble as you push through your fear Stood high on a peak admiring Gods scheme Felt both delight and remorse for taking a deer. I’ve walked for weeks through valleys and trees Traversed mountains with lush native grass Felt the warmth and the cold of high country breeze Navigated tussock, forests and high country pass. I’ve smelt autumn rain as it mingles with dirt Enjoyed the isolation of me and my views Valued crude shelter while nature unleashes its hurt Watched forest birds doing their best to amuse But I’m now destined to be one of societies slaves In a world where worth is measured by cash Where worry and stress are delivered in waves Where those without are regarded as trash. I felt most alive in the middle of nowhere Now dead when hemmed by city and streets Nothing compares with fresh mountain air Living free, no money, bills, or receipts.


Copyright © Mark Woods | Year Posted 2015

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Upon Misty Morning's Fast Fading Glow

Upon Misty Morning's Fast Fading Glow

Upon misty morning's fast fading glow, 
dance fairies on glittering silver wings. 
Flying with fantasies flowing in tow 
And sweetest joy such dancing often brings.

Above their heads the rising sun awaits, 
its morning sun's time for shining anew. 
If fairies are seen, man then contemplates, 
dreaming depths of that rare mystical clue. 

As dancing wings fast flutter to depart, 
one ponders glistened myriads of fate. 
Sadness beating in dreams of every heart, 
with embellished scenes of day's opened gates. 

Upon that vanishing flash time cries out, 
woe to he that simply waits upon me! 
Free living is what life is all about. 
Life taking dire chances is living free- 

In those windless breezes summer moon shines, 
In the deep dark no more secrets to dread, 
The grave beginnings we have all kept live ---- 
Weeping misery and ancient-kept death 

The mountains moan, the mountains moan! ---- as babes! 
Those creepy-crawly mists fade to fortune; 
Wondrous winds in a panting night do tame ---- 
The fevered child once wan with vacant love 

A horn Gabriel shall blow through pink clouds ---- 
And sleeping stars bring life with bright-night-light 
A world to shine and illume all year round; 
Broods of good company and simple delights 

The morn shall pass and with it mad darkness, 
The heavens death cannot roam freely so; 
Old Lucifer, huffing and puffing red! 
Upon misty morning's fast fading glow.

3-04-2016

First 16 lines written by Robert Lindley 
Last 16 lines written by Keith O.J. Hunt


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016

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She Hulk

When I was a child I only ever wanted to be strong.
I wanted to be able to compete with the boys
and when I foot raced them at recess I won every time.
They called me ‘She Hulk’ because of my muscular frame
and from the way I only ever wore soccer t-shirts and sweat pants.
After that nickname was implanted into my brain like a growing weed,
I’ve only ever wanted to be feminine.
I started wearing skirts and dresses 
and in middle school they shrieked at the site of my makeup and done up hair.
But that weed inside of my mind only grew, and grew, and grew
until I became a mixed drink cocktail
with one part anorexic and two parts lonely,
because I thought that the definition of feminine began with the word frail.
No one ever realizes how greatly words affect us,
how a simple nickname can turn a pretty girl into a skeleton.
I stood at five foot two weighing seventy nine pounds,
so cold and frozen,
yet I still considered myself a ‘She Hulk.’
You could see my ribcage through my t-shirt
and my spinal cord protruded loudly through my weathered skin,
as if somehow my bones were dirty knives
just trying to cut through the flesh of judgment.
As I grew older I became the girl that was never enough.
Not good enough to speak poetry.
Not good enough to lay paint on a canvas.
Not good enough.
Not tall enough.
Not big enough boobs for them.
Not primped to perfection.
Not undeniably straight.
Not smart enough.
Not dumb enough.
Not ditsy enough.
Not cool enough or fun enough.
And I began to believe, too, that I wasn’t enough.
I never told my mother that I had been in madly in love with a girl.
I never told anyone about the night we first kissed 
because I was too vulnerable for the judgment.
And parents always justify saying that ‘kids will be kids’
But when we are kids our brains are still growing
and the smallest of seeds that get planted will one day bloom
into one giant regret,
will one day affect the choices that we make,
will one day influence us about the clothes that we wear,
will one day shape us into the person who we thought we would never be.
I only ever wanted to be strong,
and as a child I thought strength was only about being able
to lift a bar stool above your head.
I thought that strength was only about being able
to beat the boys in bare foot running races.
I was told that strength was something only
a man could have.
But as I’ve grown older I’ve realized that strength
isn’t about muscle at all,
but it’s about weakness,
and the ability to overcome the social anxiousness.
It’s about carrying around a lifetime of baggage
on your broken back
because the ones that kicked you when you were down
are going to be the ones that were  ultimately wrong.
I thought that the definition of woman 
began with the word disappointment.
And I became a mixed drink cocktail
with one part freedom
and two parts Sailor Jerry
because every girl needs a stiff drink once and awhile.
We are not disappointments.
We will never be the ones who gave up on hope.
We will never be the ones who gave up on each other,
or god,
or our mothers.
We will always be enough;
enough for the ones who shunned us 
enough for the ones that cursed us
enough for the ones the hurt us
and destroyed us
and beat us when we were covered in bruises.
But you see, bruises fade
and the scars of our flesh are only stories
things we have overcame
and there are things out there that we will overcome.
When I was a child, I only ever wanted to be strong.
I hid my vulnerability.
I hid the parts of me that were true.
I never told my mother about my girlfriend
because I was afraid she wouldn’t understand,
kind of like all those people who never understood 
just how much words effect us. 
I can’t say that I can beat the boys at foot races anymore,
because, well, I smoke cigarettes now.
And I can’t say that the nickname of my childhood didn’t affect me.
But I take that name now and embrace it.
Because I am strong.
I am the ‘she hulk’.
I am a mixed drink cocktail
with three parts greatful.


Copyright © Katie Pukash | Year Posted 2013

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I'm my Daddy Made Over

Dedicated to my Dad Jerry W. Niday 3/20/1952 - 6/18/2013


I am who I am because of him
He’s the reason for my son’s name
He gave me my courage & my strength
To stand tall even when standing wasn’t easy
Stand for the ones who can’t
To think and fend for myself
I’m my Daddy made over

Taught me to fight back 
To never back down
How to pick myself back up
When I’ve been knocked down
Fight for what I believe
I’m my Daddy made over

He gave me my stubbornness 
Gave me my pride
Gave me my temper
Taught me not to take crap
To speak my mind no matter who
Work for what I want
I’m my Daddy made over

How to keep my emotions in check
How to handle large amounts of pain
When in trouble he always had my back
He knew how my mind worked better than anyone
I got it from him
I’m my Daddy made over

Even though he’s gone
I’ll stand and continue on 
I may stumble I may fall 
May even get hurt along the way
But I’ll pick myself back up
I’ll dust myself off and stand tall
I’m honored and proud to say
I’m my Daddy made over


Sabrina Niday Hansel



Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel | Year Posted 2013

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In My Place

I have been put in my place many times
Told how to talk
What to think
How I need to look a certain way
Be the way I'm suppose to be
Expectations to be met
I could never be me

That place that almost drove me insane
I kept being placed there
Over and over again
Yet I had no choice but to be true to myself
I couldn't be someone else's book 
Placed on a shelf, in a perfect row, not standing out
No one knowing what I'm about

I ripped out the pages
Inserted my own
Scribbled on the cover
Added my own colors
My pages screamed to be read
Hoping others would hear what I said

As time went on
I often changed my design
Desperately trying to know myself
Unsure what I would find
Never really fitting in
Confused by what I found within
Hard to know where I belong
Listening to notes from others songs
Was my way of thinking right
In a distance I could see a glimmer of light
I dreamed my dreams
I craved the light

Then one day
All the pieces clicked
I fell into place
Joy accompanied by a certain grace
Comfortable with me
I live in the moment
I can just be
Finally, finally 
I am free
I know my place


Dedicated to my Friend Armand who knows 
his place and helps others discover their place. 
You my friend are a true original Happy Birthday!







Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2013

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Together As One

Together As One
To dream as one.
When we dream we dream as one. When we laugh we laugh as one. We have a life 
together that compliments one another. We have a love that is like no other it’s as 
one. We reach for the stars and look for the moon. We support and care for one 
another on our journeys as our journeys cross paths.
We listen with excitement to each other’s dreams. To understand and encourage 
comes from the heart. Knowing with certainty that we deserve the love we give and 
receive as we are as one. What is wonderful for one is so for the other for our life 
path is the same. Knowing one so well is to know one’s self without a doubt.
Dreams that come together both big and small shared by knowing hearts that want 
the same want are as one. A love so strong can feel and guide with the stars and 
moon. Set in motion a force together nothing can sever but blessed be a dream 
together as one!
Dream, laugh, and love we do as one for we became one. Together we reach for the 
stars and the moon as we share the paths we take. Our journey takes us many 
directions to which we share our delight. A journey worth taking is a journey worth 
sharing…sharing as one!
                                                                                   Debbie Knapp




Copyright © Debbie Knapp | Year Posted 2011

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Twenty Four Reasons to Die

The roses of September the first
They know the dance is almost over
Slowly the life shall bleed from the stem
Beauty shall wilt
The winds shall blow away the memories
Bagpipers four deep and six long
Shall march upon botanical grounds
In remembrance of those brave souls long ago
Stoic the march, the notes lingering in the air
Falling on the deaf ears, of the already departed
Two swords laid as the cross
Highland dances of youth,
Old photographs lieing burned in the trash

Marching forth, to old peoples applause
They march towards their own death
Overlook there, over the sea, look closer
Shall you see the dust that covers me?
Twenty four reasons to die
Yet here I am on the twenty fifth
Wishing for only one


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015

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JOURNEY

~ JOURNEY to the center of me!~

Yield upon this blissful moment!
In, a cutting-edge welcoming,
This minute can only maintain-

Yesterday’s journey~ Desire~

The world inside my head, can think,
Deeper than a dream;
Up till now, anticipation has hovered my present thoughts
Day becomes night,
Night becomes day,
In a cave, I call my insanity.
Hallucination, raveling inside my head, 
I sit where my thoughts entwine with my elusive slumber.
Everything inside of me is lucid and lost in madness. 
I perceive the proper perception; 
to think is only a thought.

Today’s journey~ Sensation~

Barren thoughts never exit the aggression in my mind.
I stand among the crying thunder locked within my head.	
Of sweet flower they arise and bloom, above all shores,
I embrace the beauty of my deepest emotion.
Sands of time litter within my walls!
My thoughts sit and wait! 
Minimizing themselves down to a speckled dot.
They are a few, sweet and creepy,
Those grab my attention,

Tomorrow’s journey~ Pleasure~

Passion wilting upon yesterday’s memory.
Concentrating and unraveling every single knot.
And, still I go back and give that one look.
A hot steamy want, judged by my brainwaves.
Notions, follow a path and indulge with no escape.
Danger escapades into a naughty reflection, "I am my own diversion!"
My thoughts are thoughtless as they can be.
Brittle and little like you and me!
Still my journey continues to emerge with all the thoughts found in the center of me.

Everyday's journey~ Begins with………Determination……

by;pd


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012

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I Sail This Ship Alone

As the last opalescent glow of sunset fades away I sail this ship alone towards a crimson horizon over a starlit sea to the soft lapping of waves which lullaby my destiny I sail this ship alone far from the coral sand far from the pebbled beach far from my sun-kissed land Tonight there is no moon but there's a sparkle in the sky a starry night so still filled with beacons of bright light Tomorrow births a new dawn a song within a dream meadows of yellow buttercups and fields of evergreen Tomorrow I'll be greeted by a pink-winged butterfly a host of daffodils, and golden dandelions a rose within a smile Tomorrow I stroll along a new shore feel fresh salt spray on my cheek dance bare-foot in the wind as Spring whispers on the breeze.


Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2014

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The Fool

A sunny day has beckoned me. Fearless, I begin as innocence leads me forth. Leaving my lofty spirit realm, will I slip into an abyss? The path is unknown, but it has to take me home! Written Jan. 28, 2015 by Andrea Dietrich for the Tarot Cards Poetry Contest of nette onclaud My theme was #1: an interpretation of the fool


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015

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Eternal Soul

The soul's forever—
As an eternal spirit.
Leaves this mortal coil . . . 
	 Again to the spirit world 
And home to Heaven’s Kingdom!

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, 
Schoeningen, Germany (November 7, 2014)
(Tanka poetic format) 


Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2014