Joy unspeakable
That peaceful feeling that you are giving me Lord
The calmness you provide
The knowing that you will make right everything
The right feeling that only you can destine
You gave God
Because I had asked You Father
Thank you God
You are the Father who hears
And answers
You who sees
And gives
You who always grants requests, petitions
To your children
You who always keeps your Word
And brings them to completion
We just need to trust You
That You will fulfill
God , help us trust in You
And plan everything on You
Make our lives revolve around You
You who are the Center of the Universe
Who commands the earth, the air
The very breath that we have
Our very being
Center You for us Lord
Help us keep straight
Our eyes fix on You
You –The Magnificent, The Excellent, The Majestic, The Transcendent
The Eternal, The Ideal, the Absolute, The Ultimate One.
Copyright © Toquyen Harrell | Year Posted 2012
In her tear and dirt streaked face
Her melancholy eyes still seek
Shifting memories that flit and flee
Shadows of the past still speak
A Spark of Hope for each passing glance
Searching for her love long gone
Rain or shine in this spot each day
Rejection plays its own soulful song
Deep in the echoes of her sighs
An unrequited love not died
Whispered words speak of eternal love
Tripping glibly off a tongue that lied
Yet she lingers on a departed promise
Her nuptial dress ragged with age
A key deliberately tossed-discarded
Trapping true love in a rusted cage
To her tear streaked cheek a locket she holds
I see a beauty that once was strong
And I weep for her and her shattered heart
Holding broken dreams - far too long
If I could but give her back her YESTERDAY
Bestowing on her a true love to stay not stray
Footnote:
Dedicated to an unknown melancholy young lady whom I saw sitting in a busy subway dressed in tattered lace, with a soulful look in her eyes and it instantly brought the Beetles song ‘Yesterday’ to mind.
The verses are not written to match the music.
Copyright © Maria Williams | Year Posted 2017
WRITING
when other souls
are conceiving
in their dreams
my breath
gives birth
at midnight
my soul
only knows
to labour
to push
to birth
alone
~ Eshe Benson
Copyright © Eshe Benson | Year Posted 2021
Opening the door
I let you in
The key
you gave me
Was a promise
To never
hurt me again
I opened it
Saying my kind of girl for sure
Deceived I am by what
you done to me
Deceit in the words
you gave coldly cutting
Remember
your heartfelt words to me
They are only words
I love you
To you maybe words
without any meaning why
In my eyes
you can draw a picture
without them
meaningless
You failed in keeping
this door open
Closing to your silence
unable to talk
without words
The key jammed
by your empty promises
How do you talk
from here
It began all hidden
with your silence helping
To hurt someone
my words
Believe you me
The beginning in
the End was all a lie
My words to you
You are wasted in words
In the end empty cell
don't have
any nice words
For you
How's that for words
Copyright © Liam Mcdaid | Year Posted 2013
When you sang, dreams croaked, then you ceased to be a volcano,
It was simpler to become a rock, not letting yourself be unraveled by the waves of myopia.
After seasons died in your arms, resigned to your cold might,
You questioned if perhaps all flowers tear their petals in vain for you.
You were left emptied of greenness, a vast void where echoes can't return,
You've lost the appetite for light and horizons, a crownless tree in the purple twilight.
Oh, how you wished to remain the same old fir, clutching a world of rays to your chest,
But you let the day slip into night, you departed to become the leaf you await to fall.
Nymphs in chorus called you to shout again, for the wind to blow in your blue day,
But you stayed silent, and in your silence the tear of the sea extinguished in a fist of foam,
You feared the equinox that doesn't come, the persistent remembrance of a song once drawn,
And you feigned your existence into a white beginning of hibernation, like a silence before a revelation.
Do you believe that once you bloomed, the storm can't break the branch that holds you?
You stopped being the barbarian that made the echo in the mountain laugh at itself,
And in exchange for smiles, a sad pass settled on your face, casting long shadows,
An unanswered question that floats above you, a flight that no longer knows how to reach its destination.
Ah, you’ve lost her, that fearless bird that used to scent the filters of your soul!
You've ceased your word, halted the depth from caressing the root of the sky.
You've forgotten the whirlwind that lifted you above the world, and now you search for meaning,
You are a snail without a shell, feather without flight, a ripple without an ocean, a sky without a constellation.
Is waking harder? Is oblivion gentler than the sweet pretext of remembrance?
You wonder why the stars do not answer your indescribably late call,
The road back seems too long now, legends speak of new beginnings, barren horizons.
Slowly but surely, you lost it... in a pass of slippery fog over your world,
Now you are the slave to your own echoes, seeking a mirror in me so you can breathe once more.
Copyright © Dan Enache | Year Posted 2023
There is no denying this feeling,
Butterflies fluttering with dread inside.
The melancholy sound of the blind man cries,
Echoes like sorrows in the corners of pain,
Lamenting like a melody so full of angst,
The devil smiling triumphantly, perched on his shoulder.
Sorrows so deep,
Keeping me up at nights,
Searching desperately for an inkling of light,
Listening to Glenn Hughes to help me through the night.
Darkness envelops me in all its might.
When a blind man cries, you know without a doubt
It’s a cry of agony felt from the very depth of his soul.
The one that promised forever is now playing a different tune;
A new lover’s lips are being explored,
Sweet nothings prose-penned to expose
The deep emotions evoked with a certain look—
That’s all it took, no need for goodbyes.
Sorrows so deep,
Keeping me up at nights,
Searching desperately for an inkling of light,
Listening to Glenn Hughes to help me through the night.
Falling on my knees, begging for mercy,
Calling all angels to wipe these tears away,
Promising my earthly life and all that I have
For the return of your embrace.
Not caring, the blood escapes and trickles,
Cutting all ties as I cry along to “When a Blind Man Cries.”
Clutching my chest as the scream is muffled,
Enveloped in darkness, a sorrow so great—
No light within and no light without sight,
A distorted picture of a man in plight.
The danger is so real as he curls up broken.
Sorrows so deep,
Keeping me up at nights,
Searching desperately for an inkling of light,
Listening to Glenn Hughes to help me through the night.
Pulling him from the pit of misery,
His ears straining and feeling a flutter of hope,
As the record player is playing the last hurrah.
A blind man’s eyes still weep,
A blind man’s heart still feels.
He crawls over and gingerly drops another beat.
Sorrows so deep,
Keeping me up at nights,
Searching desperately for an inkling of light,
Listening to Glenn Hughes to help me through the night.
When a blind man cries,
He hears No Stranger to Love,
Released by Glenn Hughes in 1986.
No longer in darkness, the eyes now see.
Music and the legend behind the lyrics
Will always be there when the blind man cries.
Copyright © Lise Clendening | Year Posted 2024
Who is this person who can coax
the ordinary into magical so easily?
A grey, depressing winter's sky becomes
"a coverlet of lilac gossamer."
Are poets born with exotic words already
whispered in their ears? Are these words
their native language? Or, do they speak
them to lift us when our spirits stumble?
Perhaps poets are visitors from a distant
planet, finding our's too harsh to hear
the heartbeat of a beautiful phrase. Or,
could they be Nature's attempt to save us?
Their minds must be linked to the stars,
hearts following the songs of sirens.
Listening closely, they hear voices unheard
by us: Mother Earth's lullabies to her children.
Altho gentle, they somehow find the courage
to open their hearts, share their dreams.
They know some may scoff, not recognizing
the beauty hiding in the everyday mundane.
I believe poets are treasure hunters seeking
those hidden places where others never thought
of looking, writing words we never imagined.
Perhaps, deep within our hearts, a poem
is waiting.
Copyright © Ann Peck | Year Posted 2021
Goodnight my dear
I'll dream of you
I know I will
I always do
A dream of you
Is nothing new
But I love them
Just like I do you
Copyright © Andres Luis Bigote | Year Posted 2022
USINS & THEMINS
Usins had a funeral, for a boy who’d seen enough
He hung himself on Wednesday, up in Ballyduff
Themins had a funeral, for a girl who died too soon
She’d been bullied all her life, on the streets of Lenadoon
Usins vote the same way, we’ve done it through the years
We close ranks for protection, when election fever nears
Themins vote the same way, they’re stuck in history
They do it to annoy us; it’s plain for all to see
Themins can’t be trusted and they never ever could
They’re eyes are close together and they started this whole feud
Though Usins won’t be sainted for the things done in the past
It kinda makes you wonder, how long this hate will last
Usins kinda look the same, as themins down the street
We also breathe the same air, though we kick with different feet
Usins are like Themins in a lot of different ways
Perhaps we’re not as far apart as everybody says
Copyright © Leslie Wilson | Year Posted 2018
Uncertainty
"Uncertainty arrives as an enigmatic seed
An imposing oak or a persistent annoying weed"
4/30/17
West Palm Beach
Florida
Copyright © Anselmo Boles | Year Posted 2021
A mental disorder caused by watching too many Transformer movies. In the first stage of the disease, the afflicted will experience lethargy, loss of speech, appetite, and sense of impending doom. The second, or hallucinatory stage, is characterized by irrational fear of Japanese cars, cell phone towers, TA Truck Stops, Swiss Army pocket knives, and vacuum cleaners with multiple attachments. In the third and final stage, the afflicted will take on the persona of a rogue FBI agent and insist that the truth is out there.
Copyright © Jeff Martin | Year Posted 2017
You can travel the four thousand miles of the Nile
to its source and never find it.
You can climb the five highest peaks of the Himalayas
and never recognize it.
You can gaze through the largest telescope
and never see it.
Arthur Sze
To be a part of landscape
From a distance landscape has a
recognizable outline.
A skin mite, grazing fleshy meadows
grotesque microscopic cow,
has no concept of the human form it feeds from.
Just as a mountain in close proximity
is no longer symbolic of its form,
romance and the imagination of it
is reduced to a frozen, physical obstruction
that is a challenge to survival.
The skin mite tumbles, a huge force
has torn it's clawlike hooves from
living apertures, it falls
with flakes of dead turf into a
depthless void, unoticed
by the scratcher,
and the mountain climber sees the
blinding wall of snow that
flashes by him as he falls,
unoticed by the mountain.
Copyright © Suzanne Delaney | Year Posted 2014
To a stranger who has died -
Money is nontransferable;
That the Egyptians tried -
The kings - they're unconsolable
But I know some things that follow:
A reputation that's admirable;
Fame - too - worth much in gold
As well as a pretty caricature.
Others will take their talents
And I - by history’s sieve -
Will take - cheating prognosis -
My poems with me when I leave.
Copyright © Amy Michelle Mosier | Year Posted 2023
Time will tell
Time will tell
Nobody knows tomorrow
But time will tell
Until the end you can’t tell
The act and deeds of mankind depends on time
In the race of life
Time will tell
Life is like planting a seed
Only time will tell
When it will bear fruits
So take heed
A child is born
And only time will tell his future
Whither he will be poor
Or he will prosper
Little drops of water
Makes a mighty ocean
A family grows to be a nation
The sunny days
Turns to be the rainy days
A nation grows to be an empire
Tomorrow becomes the future
But all depends on time
Time will tell
Copyright © Matt Starking | Year Posted 2013
Three Keys Where Is The Lock
T imeless beauty forged adventure awesome mystery
H olistic puzzles engraved on two sides of the moon
R ainbows showered water and sun-scape elevated
E xcavating exclamation embracing inspiration and he
E ntertained essential questions and the meaning of life
K een to capture the mist the veil of disguised reality in
E rnest he touched allowed universal poetry to scribe
Y our beautiful smile and sensual mind to mingle the
S pirals the whirls mutual attraction his keys and hers
W hich perspective angle sides and twisted doorway
H e wondered when narration moments passed to turn
E ternity impermanent meandered gently tossed infinity
R esolution adventure coming together magic miracles
E mbroidered tapestry stunning mosaic still and unfolding
I n the wider scheme of things attraction matter he pushed
S he pulled they tucked together moved the motion found
T ireless love compassion unconditional simple kindness
H uman need desire passion longing long lost treasures
E motion felt expressed unmitigated feelings and affection
L et us melt not unlike those three paths three themes three
O verarching gentle pleasures and rewards dancing flirting
C ompassion passion feelings unsurpassed by reason three
K eys of love humanity emotion in intuition no more locks
12th July 2016
Copyright © Kai Michael Neumann | Year Posted 2016
I can’t stop crying now!!!
Confused
Laying here in tears with no one near
My wailing in silent as my body trembles
I can’t stop crying now!!!
I’m so confused by those last messages
My heart breaks so hard
Shattering to the floor
Will you pick up my pieces-
To throw them or mend them
I’m not sure anymore
I love beyond love, unconditionally
What I wanted was just love, family, a partner to love-
All under one roof
You couldn’t handle that
My heart wasn’t welcome anymore
Now you made me so confused
Your last messages tug at my heart
Plucking my strings
I still see you when I sleep
Beautiful as before
Maybe I’ll sleep forever to be with you
Copyright © Paul Murray | Year Posted 2020