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Obstacle In Our Path Elephants by Roper, Eve
Love on strangers path by Okonkwo, Chuma
The Path of Life by Faasisila, Jackie
The Path by Smith, Darlene
Rugged Path by Grahamburglar, The
tangled vine path by Wings, Broken
No Perfect Path by Deremer, Pam
The Path to a Massive Collapse by phillips, scott
Path to love by Thompson, Jessica
Path Leading To River by T.M.M., Eve

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The Best Path Poems

Details | Path Poem | |

Black Diamond Night

Black Diamond Night (a coal miner’s cemetery) 

Where the ebony, we call “NIGHT”,
Old black rocks sit under the twilight
Diamond shape eyes unclear and lonely, 
Sinister through hostile spirits only,

I stumble across these stones without a bone
A solitary confinement alone,
From a barren zone the light transcend
Only in time, our minds will mend

Endless valleys and limitless stones
These bones- these bones they sit alone
The abyss, of rotten cavities with no fill,
A system no power can unwell the drill
The blood that passed over without a spill
Peaks collapse into a spellbinding chill
They are trapped! They are trapped!
Another diamond in the rough
Is what they left

Obsessed with the dead without a death
A death that impatiently awaited their last breath
Gushing, into the gems of dead chemistry,
Diamonds holding its own intensity,
These lonely graves, on top of sycamore hill
Coal mining hearts that will never heal
If only shiny eyes could see?
These lonely bones inside of me!
Moving in every direction possible
Flowing in every direction noticeable
Sockets without eyes.
Stones hiding under the cobalt skies.
The mad sparkles, the madness dies.
Throughout this mess, we held in the blasphemous
Intervening lots of gems so miraculous
  
Into a stone of self-religion,
A black night filled of legions
Acknowledging the soul's capacity of free
Near the frail bones that sit alone,
Alone they sit in a morbid home.
Through a path unclear and all alone,
Troubled by the visions of my own stone
Where the night takes place in the dark
The ebony rides under the diamond bark
Along with the coal miners who never got to see the;
“Diamonds of another day!”

:) pd

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A

More great poems below...


Details | Path Poem | |

Where The Sycamore Grew

The house seemed smaller, now seen with older eyes...
The street seemed narrower, the trees taller..
Where once were open fields across the road
New construction had bloomed
The small fruit orchard had disappeared

But somehow we knew it would still be there....
Strangely different, ...yet much the same

There was an unfamiliar small red tricycle
On the flagstone path that we laid...
In front of this little house that lies
Beyond the curve, where the old sycamore grew...

Suddenly, thirty years faded into that autumn day
And quickly had become a springtime of our lives..... 
...of first Christmas trees,..of first anniversaries...
            ...a place where I cried night after night when mother died...
                       ...and spent long, starry nights holding newborn babes....
Yes....it is all still there, in the little yellow house

Funny, but I'm glad they kept the yellow...
It has the same white shutters...
The little yellow house, with a flagstone pathway that we laid
That sits beyond the curve, where the old sycamore grew...


                                         ++++++++++++++++++

Copyright © Carrie Richards


Details | Path Poem | |

I want your SEEDS

**"And his name was Jack"**

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


I'm the daughter of a farmer. 
I have a donkey to ride, a story to tell.
“Jack and the Beanstalk”; my favorite tale. 
 
Once upon, a morbid dawn. 
I inhale a tiny simple yawn~ I levitate like the sun. 
I head out the door, towards the markets shore.
I grabbed my ass to stroll along the open path. 
My shoes aim out to the nearest creek. 
My ass and I desired a drink. 
There I saw an old Englishman, sitting on a log. 
It looked as if time was approaching his brink. 
In his hand, he had a sack.
A bag, a bag, embroil of ivory and black. 
His eyes were not from this ground. 
His body fragile, he uttered a moaning sound.
He was of dirt. 
I was pure. 
He pledged his life to me. 
I debated.... with many thoughts, 
Although his eyes... 
My eyes... Will never meet again.
I want what is in the bag!
He said, "I'll give you anything for that ass.
My legs and bones can’t hold up on their own, no more!”
I knelt down to where he sat. 
Smelling his essence of rot. 
I reached forward and grabbed his only baggage. 
He said, "This bag is all I got!" 
 
I answered, "And this sir is a fine ass." 
He replied, "I have no cash." 
Scowling at him, “No I want your demon seeds!" 
How my blood grew thin... 
Inhaling and exhaling out his sin... 
The old man all shriveled and timeworn, 
Propose the birthright of the seeds. 
Yes, plant them! Plant them... 
I cried excitedly! 
He pats the field. 
Said there I am done. 
Now clock as it expands. 
 
To breed this story short... 
He dispense his seeds. 
AND, I GAVE HIM MY ASS. 
 
 
Lol...  BY;PD    (for seed contest)

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A


Details | Path Poem | |

Pandora's Kiss

"Pandora's Pearls"

Crystal tears drown under the best velvet distinctive feel
A Ghostly feel that leads into a clear diamond road
I found myself seduced down an Ancient Silk Caravan path, 
There she hid behind the golden stones she built around her heart.
She was a white gem against the deepest night
She spoke Latin words upon this dreamy sky
Her eyes were deep and the size of my mother’s midnight pearls
I fell into the stare of her bedroom eyes
Wishing to taste the sweetness of her coconut milk fragrance. 
She lowers the cloak to reveal the beauty in her black pearly eyes
Raven hair under her soft sensual disguise
Her lips redder than the violet rays of the sunset

She buried her beauty, and then exposed what’s under the cloak
Soon, her body turned into rot and bones
Her fingers pointed towards another path,
A rugged road of stones and pearls
I took a blade and press it against my skin, 
Concealing my life shut, after she revealed all my forbidden sins
Her lip, her eyes, her pearly grin, my last vision as my blood drew thin
A sweet kiss of death, falling into the eyes of Pandora’s Spell

by;PD

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A


Details | Path Poem | |

The Clouds

"THERE HE WAS HOLDING HIS HAND OUT"

=voice=
God, can I hold your hand and follow you?

"Gods voice"
My child, it is I who will walk with you! You walked down my path with and without faith. You took my protection to ease your pain. My shielded wings comfort you during your moments of suffering while your life staggered across earth. Your love and devotion are what made you strong. Every time your dreams were broken. You managed to build more dreams in their place. You called my name during your happiest and saddest moments. You ran to me when you fell behind. Your secrets became our private talks. The key to your heart was always unlocked. I was there during your trials and troubles and tribulations. We could not speak, it was my light that kept you from going weak.

=voice=
God, are you a dream of beauty? The holy book.
My preacher spoke of the afterlife, calling it paradise. 
I remember now, I felt this company once before, this light.
Many times, I forsake the light and still you never left my door.
I felt it on the day I was born, 
the day I became baptized in your holy name. 
I felt this light before, can you explain it once more? 
Lord pleases clarify the day I fell down to my knees, accepted Jesus as my savior? 
On that day, I felt as if you stood away and walked on by, allowing me to face my  failures’.  
Was my life a waste in this impossible world?"

"Gods voice" 
My child, this is the everlasting light you will feel every time your body is re-born onto a new road.  This light never left you. 
My sweet child did you not listen, 
Matthew *19:26* MY SON looked at them and said, "With man this is impossible, but with ME all things are possible. 
My child, you were not searching for the right answers.

=voice= 
My Lord everyone told me if I prayed you would come. Did I not pray enough?

"Gods voice"
My child sometimes your heart asked for more than life itself,  
I always answered even when you shunned heaven away from your eyes?
The obvious question is whether this is the final immersing of your soul's disguises.

=voice= 
Lord, I have other questions to ask. 
What should I expect out of my personal sins? 
My testimonial sits in the palm of your hand
My mind and my heart's inner core have been wicked since my adolescence-- 
How is it that I am in your promise land?

"Gods voice"
Getting right with me has brought you here!

=voice= 
One more question My Heavenly Father
Can I see My Daughter, Mothers, Sisters, family, and friends?

<3

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A

More great poems below...


Details | Path Poem | |

Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis

ONE WORD~

Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis, 
Running through my mind,
Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis, 
Running through my veins,
                                   
A silica odor, dust walks through a fresh desert night
Cool air beneath and above the sea
A warm furnace smell, I don’t understand
Intricate to rise and receive without knowing
Up ahead in a virtue distance
A mysterious poisonous effluvium light-     
My face feels like a leaf'
My sun holds up its own pendulum rods
Inflammation comes and settles in for the night,
There it stands in a pertinacious manner, with quality
I resurrect this air created from madness, all over again
Twilight, rain stranger than strange
Visions, pursue my path into an infested dark pasture
"From the red Heaven I fell into the waters of a cobalt Hell"

Perhaps this venerable moment, will pass slower than slow
PERHAPS NOT!
If I accept, and then decline
Would this balance the precocious state I live in?
How about when wrong directions follow my promiscuous ways 
Is my conglomeration of ideas, no longer safe?	
When I no longer value the values of the young
Will I sleep at the mercy of his ancient heart
They're the voices give and take from our health

Today, those soft, perfect eyes are calling from far away,
Ashes high, vapors and infection welding me
The bright skies swallow every thin silver line,
Where the clouds sit somehow~ in bacteria
UNITY! 
YES UNITY! Fantabulously-fantastic!
Always, wanting more than love can touch

We are living' it up with no alibis!
A way to be and not to BE!
The champagne leaves their cup
Awaken in a life, disturbed ~ NOW INTERRUPT!
Only in this world, lava will reach her lips
Prisoners and doers; 
All night…. Too late for a treatment
Lungs, decaying, evil rats
Direction, affection, ending all the inhalation

Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis, 
Running through my lungs,
Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis, 
Flat-lined my life ____/\ /\___ ___/\______/\___ _______________

By; pd

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A


Details | Path Poem | |

Artillery Rain

~Perfect Rain~

Me! 
I can see!
All the tribulations around
A rage against the burning wind
Nobody hears the crackling sounds in my voice
Everybody avoids to feel the smoke hidden within
A rain so deep it burns all the enamel off my skin
A rain that cut my soul in half
Two piece that will never entwine or merge down my dragon path
I feel this eternity has no ending blaze
Trigger happy rain, extinguishing a bonfire around my rose.

I will sleep under the artillery stars tonight
With the perfection of my fiery crystal lava teardrops
Washing the ashes of my face,
Suppressing the overwhelming fear
Knowing no one will ever, "BLAME IT ON THE RAIN!" 
As long as the torch keeps loading another artillery round.

pd

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A


Details | Path Poem | |

ONLY EVER WITH YOU

O N L Y E V E R W I T H Y O U Only ever with you, I love to have and hold into the circle of your arms, I'll unfold; into your blue eyes' greeting shine, my gold; only ever with you, I yearn to grow old... Only ever with you I can write rhymes as such for you bring my muse from dust to dash, to hush Only ever with you my being wants to attach as first step already taken to our primrose path Only ever with you, tips dance linger to cherry lips Slow summer hands will roam vast to wonderland Whence pearl white peel smooches chocolate skin only ever with you, heartbeats climbs a boiling point Stars and moon may leave the dark skies yet, one look at the gleam of your blue eyes day and night, I see the rising sunrise. Only ever with you, I will dive to lows or heights for only ever with you, I'll plunge to infinity. Prayers plea asking blessings from Divinity to tie two hearts and two souls in sole unity. Mindless to whatever is there in humanity Only ever with you... _______________________________________________ POEM OF THE DAY -- February 27, 2015 ©O. E. Guillermo 5:32 pm, February 26, 2015

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo


Details | Path Poem | |

GREEN- reborn

GREEN, GREEN, GREEN!!!

My name is Jade Shamrock Green.
I will not eat one single green bean.
When I get mad, I turn green.
I wear my favorite green jeans.
I am hypnotize by the color green.
Not every green path leads to a flowing stream.
I lay on the grass so green.
I won a jackpot of green.
To visit the Green Mountains in Vermont is like a dream.
My eyes are shaded green.
My jealousy comes in the color green.
I diet on green veggies that are lean.
The Green Bay Packers are my favorite team.
I believe all frogs should come in green.
It’s a family gift to carry a green thumb gene.
My garden has the greenest life I have ever seen.
Lemons are yellow, but limes are green.
The Irish do not all believe in green.
In my greenhouse all, the plants are full of good self-esteem.
I'm the jester who wore a green beret for the king and queen.
The unripe sour apple is moldy green!
Flicking me a green bugger is gross and mean.
Why do all leprechauns wear color green? 
Not all clovers have only three leafs of green.
Green is the middle color of the rainbow team.
Good Luck, Care Bear's charming eyes are emerald green.
My favorite color has always been green.
This is all about wearing green on March the seventeen.



.         (a) S.K.A.T. POETRY (re-post) by;p.d.
.                 3-17-10  (update) 3-17-11

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A


Details | Path Poem | |

M


Long before Horus' exposure on its trunk
and the nailing of Jesus upon its grain,
rings have been added within the Tree
while people proclaim to hold the key
of salvation, a continually borrowed mythology
swallowed; a powerful sleeping pill

pulling the masses into slumber,
away from the obvious truth
that such supposed salvation 
is a ticket far too easy to obtain,
a discriminatory damnation of souls
so blindingly righteous,
even the most vengeful, maniacal deity
would draw the line there.

So many people hand-out the easy tickets,
cut and light the tree --
a hypodermic injection of selfish memories
mixed into mortar for temples designated as sacred,
but the elements are desecrated by swirling sewers,
by shears amputating roots from the sky.

Too many people preach, judicate, proclamate,
hold signs pointing towards a cheap, polystyrene heaven,
while only a few walk the narrow path,
live the sacrifice because it feels right.

Again and again, 
the ticket isn't so easy,
we must put aside our slumber-crutches,
stop watching the few carry the rest
upon their backs until bones creak and groan
from the weight of people waiting for salvation
to be handed to them.

27 years, a branch in the road, 46664 etched into its bark.
The forked doors opened,
a living, breathing gospel
brought down fences,
and even then the wood was made into crutches
for people to say, 
"M will fix it, M will do this, M will do that,
M will save us, just wait and see."
But M is finally free, yes, he is free!
Free, but not lost to us,
always surviving as spirit-seeds.

We must no longer lean upon crutches,
instead purge the pill from our blood
and awaken into gardeners who water the seeds
within the soil of our souls,
before the vision withers completely,

and we remain only as husks
waiting to be hydrated by watering cans
held in hands too weak to lift the weight....

held in our own hands all along, 
held in our hands all along.



*Inspired by Madiba Mandela

December 7th/8th, 2013







+/-

Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner


Details | Path Poem | |

Hot And Cold Comes The Night


LIST POETRY - A FUTURISTIC INTERPRETATION You must know I cried yesterday and I think I broke the world so I braided some words into twine planted some sweet and sour coated seeds I grew free standing expressions and then I joined them with left over thread to present these interlocking pieces in their proper order regardless of the number they wear in an attempt to confuse and deceive. I offer this humble list for your reading enjoyment It is an honour to have you visit my page. The pleasure I assure you is all mine WORDS ON PAPER - THE LIST FIVE I loved you centuries before we were born. You lived in my dreams before I ever slept. When others wasted time picking flowers I waited for when it was time to pick you. Love calls you in the natural scent of your partner. You'd feel their touch in the vacuum of outer space. Your desire for them would melt away the ice age. I want to find a door in the brightest part of the sky I could open to erase what was, to shine a light so bright it, like a book of golden words, would write ideas so vital as to eradicate even a suggestion of our mournful past. I want to be that magician who does not bother with illusion but rather heals wounds and shatters burden. TWO We were at the fair, joviality in the air. A memory filed, I was a young child holding balloons floating round like full moons in vivid colours bright. Fixed on this joyous sight I was on Cloud Nine proud these were mine. If I had not let go of them. If I hadn't watched them as they flew higher and higher as my heart sunk lower and lower I might of never learnt what it felt like - hurt. Hope gloats, hope floats. either your way or just away. THREE sometimes the afternoon sun is.....too hot to walk barefoot........on the concrete path still even then.......I refuse to wear my hat I guess I'll never change, I'm just like that. sometimes when I jump in the lake in late summer... with all of my clothes on...I do it in the evening......as I go down...way down to the bottom...there's a gentle peace overtakes me..I want to stay down like a rock... revel in the ecstasy...not swim back up..........not ever SEVEN ours was a paper mâché love living in a cut out cardboard home with a macaroni art painted lawn and nothing real to call our own nothing solid that we could hold. we tried stacking lego bricks but you have to be able to pop your cheek to qualify as a kid - to get a license to build. the castle we assembled didn't pass the test. so much for fairy tales - hello reality check. we rolled the dice but our thimble went straight to jail and our mouse ended up trapped. can you hear that buzzing the operation failed. where are you going? your tricycle is still in the shop and I might as well tell you..............I have no eights................."go fish!" we fell through the bunny hole where i - jack fell ddddownnn nnnnnnn and broke my crown and you - jill came tumbling aaaaaaaaaaafterrrrrrrrrrrrrrr EIGHT it is a choreographed ballet our love stands strong legs at the base digging deep build roots delicate hands branched out reach high long slim fingers define twigs draw space the body of our trunk thick sweet filled music fills our human needs one sound wind pixies dance meticulously the air sunlight leaks effectively through dark spots lifts carries holds and shapes our smiles it is a choreographed ballet our love in sync our bodies their senses once immersed in I now us ONE I know the last thing I want to feel as I leave this world, it is your lips on mine. When I take my last breath I want to feel yours with its loving touch. NINE Always, no matter the roar or intensity of the storm how severe the attack even out of the norm Always, i offer my hand with sincerity aim to deal with it peacefully. Always! SIX then suddenly it hits like a swarm of locus. a deep dark manifestation that greases my mind my very existence in its unforgiving sense of doom. every bone stiffens, when I move, a sound of dead dried out forest twigs breaking against the boots of hikers echoes in the confined space of my skull. i reach for a pill slowly it dissolves under my tongue i wait and i wait and i wait ... my body is soaked in a sweat with its own cold and hot tap. i assume the position, lying on an unstable floor. the creature depression is now in full control of my faculties. this too i will survive ...that is what i do...what i do...this is what i do.......somehow i survive. FOUR there is a deafening hush... silently raging through the core of my existence...still...I am humbled by the light and the love I have witnessed in my brief appearance...........here on Earth there is a river...that walks at my side... walks with me........at the same stride... April 14 2015 Armand

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne


Details | Path Poem | |

My Butterfly

A perfumed breeze with summer lavender Shapeless smoked clouds had come and gone Through verdant valleys I strolled along Honeycombed hues warmed the new dawn A golden butterfly glided in the distance I just stood still and watched his flight From one flower to another His flapped wings fluttered I could not let him out of my sight I wondered 'bout this blissful beauty. Towards the riverbank I watched him roam If I could only fly away with him to destinations always unknown Imagine what places he has been what many glories he has seen A perfect waterfall tumbling into a clear blue pond Wet dewdrops glimmering 'pon the grass as the sleepy sun starts to rise A doe with her fawn taking those fragile first steps bees buzzing by swarming back to their hive I watched in amazement in awe of his grace I floated along as he flittered away We hovered together through a path between twin lakes then and there I kissed him before he silently slipped away That's the last time I saw him cuz now stone towers have been built Nature's been destroyed and the butterflies have been laid to rest

Copyright © Cupids Arrow


Details | Path Poem | |

I Can't Breathe

In memory of----

Solely in my room, I can't stomach the sound of my heartbeat.
I sit here alone to forget the taste of air, 
Overwhelmed by the scene -unbelievable footage
18 seconds too long, "I can't breathe."
My judgement is gone, stressing all night long
I use to fear dark colors, now I fear spinning bright lights
Red, White, and Blue,  I spew the NY Police crew
What's wrong with your blue eyes?
You see him, you want to mess with him
What a day to trade  --  a life for illegal cigarettes
Persecution and judgment day, a sweet life taken away
"I can't breathe", executed in broad daylight!

Bullies left and right
What happened to minding our business?
Moneymaking, refusing to be singled out 
A hurting voice tackled by racism 
Free to see, pouring his heavy heart,
Oinker's demand the ground, leaving out his testament
8 times too many, "I can't breathe!"
Where did his vitals go? 
Can someone please pound the pavement!

Stress, anger, madness, the voices of the innocent
"I can't breathe." the volume of Valium
"Officer, did you not hear the man?"
Are you deaf, have you forgotten how to save a life?
Is it just the NYPD or is it every other badge,
Insinuating crime's a one-color show.
We are all criminals, why the excessive heat?
Shot, tasered, beat down, pepper sprayed,  now on the ground
The choke hold of all choke holds, murdered and out numbered 
The echoes remain "I can't breathe!"

- The truth!
Eric Garner robbed of his own natural path and youth
One man down eyed suspiciously 
Perplexed minds suffocating him instantly
The mistrusted, the fear, the hate,  
So tangible, uniforms using deadly force
One asthmatic in a choke hold
Slamming his head on the flooring
Open wounds, worldwide tears

My heart goes to the family and friends left behind
A courageous last breath, for the first and last time
"I can't breathe," now deceased.
You left this world unwilling, waking up a strong community
Strolling in a  better world, where racism don't exist
"I can't breathe,"  Eric Garner Rest in peace!

By: PD

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A


Details | Path Poem | |

A tribute to Leonora G

~ Yolanda was--her name ~    Featuring:) Leonora Galinta

From a hell storm,
A mighty she-devil took on its form
Like a woman scorn ascending from the sea
Haiyan whipped across the central Philippines,
A deadly typhoon, maximum winds of around 315 
Terrorizing the fragile mind before making landfall
Hitting with the center eye off from her hostility 
A merciless turbulence that came and changed everything

Like a Massive Storm  
She comes in as the wise thief of the day and night, 
In her notorious gust of rage roars in disguise of thunder, 
With the company of her own knight of darkness, 
Raze all in a blast of waves wherever her path crosses, 
Ruining one of the cities down to a devastation in the land
“Pearl of the Orient Seas.” 

A mighty tempest in a woman’s name…. Yet, 
A disgrace with more than an immortal man in strength, 
Nature devouring nature itself 
Including her stewards and stewardesses
An unmerciful encroachment, robbing, killing adults and children. 

Yolanda, so cruel in her evil walloping!
A guest left smiling,
Engraving echoes of tears, from every single mourn
Vain, wicked, and colorless -no other air’s compare 
The lives she stole, one heart at a time
Pouring down the most nauseating rain, 
The pain is dissenting with everyone-- everywhere.
The bully of wind, invading sands of serenity

Unknowingly, far beyond your back----------------------------
Everybody will be summoning up more than your strength- 


:)

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A


Details | Path Poem | |

Caring For My Mother - A Letter To A Loving Friend


I sit here alone...wondering...how much longer this...and in hearing 
the question a silent icy fear blankets my body...the answer would 
come wearing both masks...tragedy...comedy...this is my life. with
freedom comes death...it hangs over me like a Mexican piñata filled 
with chocolate covered blades...so each day firmly slipped into 
neutral I exist...barely a choice to live...so I ask myself...how
did I get here...the answer comes thundering from up above...
a dead poet speaks...son that is the path you chose at your fork 
in the road... you don't argue the truth...you just throw cold water on 
your face...no...you step into a frigid shower...cleanse your thoughts
...stand in defeat happy to feel something even if it is just the pain of 
your nerve endings screaming...soaking wet and naked is the only life 
you presently afford yourself...there is no one to hear your tears...
what little sound they make rolling down your cheeks...they are not 
self pitying but rather wanting...of a loss so deep...what in your own 
self appreciation defined you...you want back your art...it...that so 
often led you back to the promised land...still you are not that hot 
headed fool you once were...you will not stand on the mountain only 
to shatter the tablets with their ten commandments...a cooler head 
prevails...so you think...like a soap opera...these are the days of my
life...I am strong and vibrant...yes I am and I will walk as slowly as I 
must towards my light and yes I will come out the other side a better 
man for this. 

08~01~2015
Armand

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne


Details | Path Poem | |

God's Kind Of Poetry

I see God in nature, surrounded in the beauty of our earth.
As God may speak with his spark of life dwelling in me,
Expressed though HIS thoughts in my poetic word’s birth. 

“Now all of my children born and reborn in this world,
I will be your parent, grand teacher, and protector.
Know you are part of me as your earthly body is unfurled.

Fragrant flowers should be known as your sister and brother.
Breathe in deeply of the varied glorious tree’s blessed breath;
A gift from me, your omnipotent father and mother.

Each season praises that divine dominion of poetry.
With each season new life emerges with the beginning of spring
Into the warmth of summer across verdant fields and forestry.

Do not fear as I cause autumn season’s winds to blow
In seeming wrath, set upon colorful trees, leaves are freed
To invite winter and the blessings of new fallen snow.

Receive my blessing of light that opens a direct path to me.
Let it shine bright in your life, in all that you say and do.
Share your delight of this blessing through inspired poetry.

Be aware of your words for they embrace the real you.
Others may be hurt by careless words spoken.
Remember, words mean as much as your actions do.

Any kindness you display by reaching out to those in need
Is always a welcome gift and returned to you in kind,
Only in much more abundance to help YOU succeed.

As you question the heavenly stars in their distant galaxies
The answers lie within yourself, if you will be still and meditate.
You may seek the truth in your own mind for life’s realities.

I am near you always, within and without, have no doubt.
I only wish you love and happiness, even though I know
You must experience difficult times to learn what life’s about.

For you are my child and I rejoice in lessons you’ve learned of.
Teach your children to revere and love me, not fear me,
I’m here to guide and protect them, for you see, I am LOVE!”

Please put your trust in me both below and above
For my divine power and glory is centered in love.

© Connie Marcum Wong

For Brian Johnston’s contest: “God’s Kind of Poetry”

Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong


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I AM AN 8



A gypsy dance enthralls the stars into a twirl of rustling hems as women tap bare feet, guitars lift twiddling notes of lore’s anthems along a woodland’s lively fest, where beaded hair glides in thrilled zest to charm night’s hours...to romp away till wagon drifts when morning strays. My destiny number is 7, though I chose my path number 8--- jan 8 rispetto form in 8 lines ------------ Andrea Dietrich's Tell Me Your Number Contest

Copyright © nette onclaud


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I Wondered

Last night I lay in the darkness of my room like i always do Me, a dim lamplight and thoughts of you my only companions Everything was still Till I could listen to first pit pattering of raindrops Upon my. Windowsill Falling, falling gently down my amber rose leaves garden. Falling gently ,wildly, gushing , drumming, Like your heart beat on those scented nights in the hallway by the fireplace, face to face I wondered if water shadows were there too In a distant land, in another path and in a different time I wondered if you think of me too,over a cup of tea whilst reading your newspaper, or just sitting in your porch..I wondered.. Last night I sat, staring off into space. My newspaper not opened. My lemon tea gone cold. Everything so still, until the rain started to fall, dripping slowly, rhythmically, then faster, faster, harder, harder, quicker, quicker splattering onto the broken concrete sidewalk pounding like the beat of my heart when we cuddled under the moonlit sky. I wondered do you ever think of me does the moon bring back memories do you lie awake at night in your room dreaming of me....I wondered..

Copyright © Cupids Arrow


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Love story part 4

Mathias works long and hard to convince the authorities to let her seek asylum in his country, months go by and without even a single communication, he becomes frustrated,
 
“Do your eyes still long to see me? 
Even when you close them, is it me they see?
Do your lips still long to kiss me?
Does your tongue still 'sigh' my name?
Does your nose still long for my aroma?
Does your ear drum still beat faster when your ears hear my voice?
Does your hair and cheeks still long to be caressed by my fingers?
Does your neck still long to be kissed by my lips?
Do your hands still want to clasp together with mine?
Do your breasts still want to comfort my heavy head?
Do your shoulders still want to feel my tears?
Does your lap still want me to lay my head up on it?
Does your heart still beat faster when I appear?
Does your mind still want to connect with mine?
Does your body still want to be embraced by my arms?
Is it me you search for?
Am I the one you desire?
Or does your heart no longer connect with mine,
has it become numb since you said goodbye.”
 
Imaani waits patiently for her beloved to return, even though her health is deteriorating, she remembers their first meeting with fondness,
 
“My beloved, you are more lovable than love,
you are my life today and in the next life,
that is why I could die in your love,
as I know at the end it will only be us.
 
I remember the first time you touched me,
your silky smooth hands invigorated my soul.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up,
you gave me goose bumps and sent shivers down my spine.
 
Never before have I seen beauty like yours,
when I look at you, it leaves me breathless.
I have drowned in your eyes constantly,
but, I am saved when your radiant voice speaks to me.
 
There will never be enough words that describe what you mean to me,
there will never be a time when these eyes tire of you.
I wish I could hold you forever, let you fall asleep in my arms,
I wish I could merge with you and be adjoined infinitely.
 
Nobody could ever replace you, the feelings are too strong,
life is not worth living, if living is without you.”
  
Finally, Mathias travels back to Imaani to bring her home with all relevant documents.  However, as he returns Imaani is nowhere to be found...  After days of searching he discover that Imaani has died due to severe malnutrition.  He is heartbroken and feels it is the end of the world and contemplates suicide.  A doctor finds him and passes over a note that Imaani had left for him and it reads,

This life is a fraud...
Full of nothing but deceit..
This world has lost its glory...
Leaving little reason to be...
For life has treated me like a stone upon a path..
Whoever walked by kicked me out of the way...
However, I still remain standing..
Despite all those arrows fired my way...
I may be flung from path to path..
But upon my journey I remain..
For those who belittle me now..
Laugh, as I assure you I will have the final say..
These tears I shed today..
Will return to haunt you someday..
For the glory I seek, is not here ...
But far away..
For one day, I will return..
To the beginning, from where I came...

Slowly, he falls into the depths of darkness and despair... Secluding himself from the world and contemplating death... A white dove lands on his window and just stares right at him and at that moment, he realises it is time to say goodbye..

A dove flew by,
reminding me of your love.
Its been a long time,
since a tear escaped my eye.
You've gone,
but your memories remain.
My heart remains stagnant,
it may never love again.
They say romance is dead,
that true love never lasts forever..
My love for you has never changed,
as my heart could never accept another.
Some say love is a temporary emotion,
but, I still feel your love, it will last forever.
I can still feel you, 
your thoughts consume my mind.
I long for our reunion, maybe not today,
but soon and it will be forever...

(sound of shot gun)

The End.
The Silent One. 20 August 2015.

Copyright © Silent One


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Greater consciousness

Lost in a world where confusion reigns supreme
Where life has become a legacy of too many a broken dream
You have become seduced by materialistic desires
Indulged yourself in egotistical passions and now burn in it's fires

Look deep inside the evolving realities of your mind,
all the answers to your questions you will find
Take the path to a higher conciousness and set yourself free
That rage inside you will be like the breeze of a calm sea

In silence you will find a cure to all your doubts and pain
Peace can be achieved in many places even in thundering rain
Find your secret sacred place that will help you become enlightened
Life will make much more sense, so no longer the need to pretend...

24 August 2015




Copyright © Silent One


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We Rulers Of The Earth


Homo Sapiens we call ourselves, rulers of this Earth,
Intelligent and civilized, but what is all this worth?

We're working hard to conquer space—we landed on our Moon.
We better solve our problems here, or soon we will face doom.

New industries and factories constructed every day,
And poisoning the air we breathe—is this the price to pay?

Energy sources are shrinking—what happens when there’s none?
Will Man of Earth ever learn to work with Nature as one?

Some in this world are starving still, while others hoard their gold.
Intelligent and civilized, at least, that's what we're told.

We cure disease with drugs that may cause sickness as result—
How many dearly paid for this ‘experimental cult’?

We have become a plastic world where everything is fake,
From the foods we eat to how we look—when will we awake?.

We're civilized we tell ourselves, but fight our fellow man,
If only we could solve world stresses through a better plan.

With government corruption and morality sinking low…
The price of progress we may say—is this the way to grow?

We have upset Earth’s balanced ways, destroying Nature’s scheme—
We’re intelligent and civilized—is it all a dream?

Will we ever walk on Nature's path, take her by the hand,
Restore the beauty meant to be on Earth, our dying land?

Homo Sapiens we call ourselves, rulers of this Earth,
Intelligent and civilized, but what is all this worth?


© Sandra M. Haight 2015 
   All Rights Reserved


~2nd Place~
Contest: Let ’er Rip – Shoot from the Hip
Sponsor: John Lawless
Judged: 04/06/2015

I composed this poem 30 years ago…but it is still appropriate today for venting because nothing has changed.  Homo Sapiens means “man of wisdom” in Latin.




.

Copyright © Sandra Haight


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The Other Side of Winter

(A Villanelle)

The winter’s dismal path is long and gray,
a never-ending march of cheerless dark
with skies whose colors bleach in dull array

where forest scene gives one a true display
and leafless limbs provide a raptors' park.
The winter’s dismal path is long and gray,

and through the open grove a new ballet
of life and death beneath the brittle bark
and skies whose colors bleach in dull array.

A wind unites with rain while leaves decay;
each limb begins to dance a graceful arc
in winter’s dismal path so long and gray

till snow appears and hides the hunter's prey.
New scenes occur of softer landscape mark,
tame skies whose colors bleach in dull array.

Resplendent white now blankets to allay
our thirst for beauty with a lustrous lark.
The winter's dismal path is long and gray,
with skies whose colors bleach in dull array.




Copyright © Cona Adams


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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


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THE HOUSE OF SPIRITS

It looks like a simple brownstone building,
Not much different then any other but it’s residents,
Are of the haunted kind, not made of flesh and bone.
In every window a wind chime stirs, gently caressed by
A chilling winds icy finger tips, after all this is known as
The house of spirits.
Witchery or voodoo’s domain, it is a place of salvation for
Spiritual challenged, listen to the beautiful music they make,
Singing within this their walled cage of brick and mortar, these
Ethereal victims lost.
Here in peace they wait for the light to find them, a waiting chamber,
Of the lords misstep souls, those whom walked off the righteous path,
Yet are not without redemptions wanton of need.
Wanders of limbo’s astral plain, seekers whom roam blindly until 
Finding a doorway threshold, then crossing over, into this the house
Of spirits.
A corridors slender passageway, a way stations layover for those tired
And weary travelers to rest until their final journey’s end comes for them,
Sanctuaries power house of the supernatural.
Behind these red doors dare not the mortal flesh clasp the gilded knockers,
For within are things of the unspoken variety, creature protectors waiting at
Bay for the stray intruder to wander forth upon this sacred ground.
Angels kindred brethren whom seek out evil, destroyers patrolling the
Darker shadows for night stalkers whom wish to feast upon the forsaken.
But light’s white power is a mightier force to be reckoned with, and vanquished
Will the devils spawn into the depths from which they came, into the bowels
Of hell shall these demons be thrown into the blackened pit from which they came?
In the twilight’s ethereal hour, a mid-ways breaking point between light and dark,
A shimmering glow strikes this standing watch tower of abandonment’s forgotten,
And heaven’s flood gates are opened unto them, calling these the lost upwards
Towards nirvana and at last know true peace.
It looks like a simple brownstone building,
Not much different then any other but it’s residents.
Are of the haunted kind, not made of flesh and bone.
In every window a wind chime stirs, gently caressed by
A chilling winds icy finger tips, after all this is known as
The house of spirits.

BY; CHERYL ANNA DUNN

 

Copyright © cherl dunn


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Fallen angel

An angel is banished from heaven.  Thrown down to Earth, until the angel learns its purpose. Whilst an innocent child is born into a dark and disgusting world of abuse and pain.

(The Angel)
A flash of light filled the skies causing confusion for all those who saw,
a small tremor was heard as he fell to earth.
his wings had been cut, blood still pouring from his wounds,
his halo has been smashed, replaced by baldness.
His ocean blue eyes had now turned a dark colour,
and his skin no longer soft or immaculate.

All around him were green fields, for miles and miles,
he stood there naked with the hot sun shining down on him.
In an array of confusement, he wandered and contemplated,
where had he come, what would be his fate as he followed an unwinding path.

The angel was shocked with what was around him,
the world was a place lost in hate, greed, selfishness and hedonistic needs.
Without a place to call home, cold and all alone,
the angel found a dark cave, for now it would be his solace.

Days, months and years passed and he too became like a mortal.
Lost amongst so many lost souls, he too searched his purpose.
In a world full of darkness, deceit and betrayal, he was lost.
Until, he decided to do what angels do best and help people.

(The broken hearted girl)
A beautiful young girl was born to a broken home,
both parents addicts and abusers, her childhood was lost.
Every day was full of pain, a new abuse even more sadistic than yesterday,
mocked by those who didn't understand, every day became harder and harder.

Every night the child prayed to God, to set her free,
to send her an angel who would protect her from the adversity.
But no one came, not even an angel, so she gave up waiting,
with no hope, she lost her faith and accepted her fate.

No one to turn to, no one to help, every night she cried herself to sleep,
her self esteem shattered, every morning was a new nightmare for her.
The trauma of her childhood lived with her forever,
so sensitive, even the smallest of things, would make her world fall apart.

Meanwhile, the angel set out to do his work, in a Godless world,
everyone he met he tried to help, to take away the pain, so they could lean on him..
He became a rock for all, even though many never stayed,
he was happy he had helped them and they had moved on.

But, deep inside, he knew he did not belong and longed to return,
to return to heaven, the place where he belonged, his soul was not from here.
His world had become a lonely place, no one really understood,
but until he found his purpose, he was still being punished.

Then came that fateful day, the little girl (who had grown into an adult),
decided that enough was enough so she decided to run away.
As she saw the door, she freed herself from the chains and ran and ran,
never looked back, not even once, just kept running into the open road.

Darkness fell, the star came out to shine, and the moon was her only guide,
cold, scared and hungry, she walked until she could find a place to rest.
Can you imagine, being in a place alien to you, that you had never seen,
a place with evil lurking around the corner, but something kept her walking.

Whilst out helping a homeless man, the angel heard a voice in his head that whispered:
"Go home".
So, off he walked down the unwinding path towards his cave.
At the same time, the girl, who had blossomed into a beautiful young lady,
caught the eye of a group of men, lost in lust, carnal desire and intoxication.
They grabbed the poor girl and dragged her towards the remote cave.

It began to rain heavily, lightning and thunder struck so powerfully,
that all the animals ran and hid.  All doors locked, just darkness.
the girl screamed, but no one heard her cries as she was dragged,
the angel getting wet, began to run, to get home quicker and answer the call of the voice

As he got closer he heard the cries of the girl,
the men were dragging her towards his cave, for an awful fate.
The angel, ran towards the men and asked them to let her be,
they laughed and mocked him and ignored his plea.

Suddenly the thunder became stronger and the lightning frequent,
the angel let out a violent scream which blew away the group of men.
As they ran away into the dark, the angel picked up the girl,
as he held her in his arms, a beautiful peace over came them.

Who was this man who had saved her, no one had ever shown her such love,
as tears rolled down her eyes, they fell onto the angel.
Behold, a magical transformation began right before her,
a rainbow of colours exploded into the night sky, almost blinding her.
Then she saw the most angelic sight known to humankind,
the angel stood right before her, his halo shining bright glowing like gold,
his magnificent white pearl wings stretched around her.

Finally, the angel discovered his purpose, he wrapped his wings around her,
held her in his arms and spread his wings and ascended up onto the heavens.

There are angels who walk amongst us, if you find one, never let him/her go..

Created for SKATs Epic contest.  28 July 2015

Copyright © Silent One