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[Anthology Update 1/2/2022] 

Well Soupers, PoetrySoup has produced its second anthology. For those who submitted poems for consideration, we want to thank you for the wonderful submissions. We wish we could have included all of your works.

This anthology, PS: It's Still Poetry, is a much larger volume than the first publication. We received thousands of poems for consideration. In fact, we were a bit overwhelmed by the submissions. There are over 42,000 poet members of PoetrySoup. Approximately 4600 poets are regularly active on PoetrySoup. Of these 4600 poets, only about 11% were selected for inclusion in this anthology (see the names).

We believe this anthology is even better than the first. We are privileged to promote the works of PoetrySoup members across the world. Thank you, Soupers.

PoetrySoup is a worldwide poetry community and poem resource. Join our online community of poets, submit poems, and use our free educational poetry resources and tools. Read and share all types of poems organized by theme.

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This Week's Featured Poems


You Know You're In The Zone When:

When the poem jumps on you, wholly formed,
Needing only you to let it out.
When you lose track of what the other person's saying,
Because your inner monologue is coming together.
When you forget all else you're doing,
Because now you realize how to say it.
When traffic's so slow that you feel like screaming,
Because you want to get home and write it down.

When you take those incremental steps of becoming a writer,
-- One of them is like that first time you ride a horse,
It's big and it's powerful,
And you are ON THIS THING.
Or when your consciousness really starts smiling back at you,
Because it's gotten bigger and deeper,
Or at least now you're better at shaking hands with it,
Seeing more of what's in there,
And sometimes what's in there is laughter,
Because now you can make yourself laugh.

When that sad line pops into your head,
And you give that initial gasp or gulp or sniff,
Because you're going to start crying,
But you're in a restaurant so you try and resist it,
Make it into a cough or clear your throat,
Trying to disguise it,
And your jaws and ears hurt under the tension
Of not letting the sobs out.

Copyright © Doug Vinson | Year Posted 2016

Women Who LOVE Football - VERSION 1

Women Who LOVE Football
Live with PASSION
Are not afraid to FIGHT
Aren’t afraid to get DIRTY
Know how to put their GAME FACE on
Are always ready to EXECUTE their OPTIONS
Have a sense of PURPOSE
Are STRONGER than they think
Will lose with DIGNITY
And will always WIN with STYLE.

(November 28, 2010 Wausau, Wisconsin)

(c) Copyright 2010 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved, 

Copyright © christine a kysely | Year Posted 2010

Within Always

Remembering the feeling inside.
Happiness, calm, safety and light.
Amid every sense, so clear.
Simply a moment, with you being here.

Looking deeply into sweet memory.
Positivity, awe, warmth and joy.
Completely still, thoughts vanish.
Only a presence in time, I see flourish.

Feeling the gift of your life with me.
Gratitude, peace, knowing and free.
Surrounded by a smile, most kind.
Always flowing, like a river in my mind.

Copyright © Alex Corns | Year Posted 2022

Why Heroes Get Things Done

Wonder Woman, Wolverine,
fight the baddies, make a scene.

Superman can fly up high,
saves us from a falling sky.

Aquaman swims under water
where he rescued someone’s daughter.

Batman has the best high tech
and leaves the villains in a wreck.

The Hulk is all about the smash;
when he’s done they look like trash.

The web that Spiderman can sling,
catches thieves and helps him swing.

Fantastic Four can do a lot,
it makes for an exciting plot.

Catwoman has a vengeful side,
that causes prey to run and hide.

but all these heroes carry on,
even when their luck is gone,

not because they like the fun;
it is their passion to get things done.

Copyright © Cary Snowden | Year Posted 2018

When He Left

when someone leaves
it is so loud 
      so personal 
                so silent

a deafening emptiness 
with a middle ear only you can hear

not coming back

never coming back

I have to know that



there will never be a necessary 

you and me

Three AM's are the worst

left aching for peace

you remember I said
that’s when time goes to sleep

the in between time when moments cease

when tomorrow gave up yesterday

I miss
the fragrance of your pleasure
a voice that satisfies

the vapor of a distant string
that did not know

it was holding 
a life 
that would never be


your vibrations
are all around still
velvet passionate silver raindrops

they linger



I know
you rarely think of we

you moved up and I moved around

Still you

a most beautiful drug

now a humiliating habit


I creep

for a stranger

         not to worry they said 
social media 
is not a danger

profile up
smile for the camera
cry into the wine

hurry you don’t have much time

we have become 
the victim of the monster

and now
the monster to the victim

feeling hysterical 
in a smiling room 
of misery

Hoping he

will provide
the ultimate surrender 

from the last shot

crippled me

But still 

I quench 
the jagged edges

needing to survive
the nights 
when there are no 
safe ledges 

doesn’t have to be quality

just a momentary remembrance
that satisfies the pain

just so I might cry with some dignity
when I stand lonely in the rain
please just find the trace

the touch
he left all over hours of me

I am lost in a pirouette
far off away into his source 

where is this place 
that all lost love really goes

if love never dies
I would want to visit there
and apologize


what happens to the lover
who is not ready

to walk alone

Copyright © Gabrielle Jordan | Year Posted 2018

Wake Up

Worry me no longer, 
dry the dripping tears,
set aside the anger
cast away the fears.

Persecute me no longer,
with you wicked slapping tongue
stop drowing me in  your agony
for I am way to young.

Stop you stupid crying fits,
Don't you fall apart
stop building all those dreadful walls
open up your blackened heart.

Quit looking at your reflection,
You're not perfect, you never were
just love yourself once again
take the bait, bite the lure.

Please, stop your pitty party,
forget that they don't see
listen to your inner strength
Stop, and wake up me!

Jessica Thompson-5/19/14

Copyright © Jessica Thompson | Year Posted 2014


Admiring her beauty he was mesmerised Her complete perfection brought tears to his eyes Holding her tenderly in his loving arms Slowly he caressed the magic of her charms. This was the gift he had waited so long for The answer to prayers he had made to the Lord It felt quite spine tingling as his heart took flight Sensing that he’d love her till close of his life. As he held her within a loving caress His fingers traced o'er her with skill and finesse Feeling the joy to the world that she’d bestow Strumming her heart strings music began to flow. They got on well and lived happily in tune She was his amulet to finding fortune Together they made sweet music forever Nothing but death could tear them apart ever. He carried her in a case on his shoulder The musical, adorable viola.
5th October 2021

Copyright © Belle Bellevue | Year Posted 2021


This captive land of oppression and hardship,
Bound by the fences of unscrupulous taxing, defined subordination,
Landlords caring not for the underclasses, toiled and weary,
Rolling glens of abundant discrimination.
A majestic deer in a glitter-strewn forest,
Warily heeds the crofter attending the byre,
An eagle rises judiciously above the merciless squall,
A blatant disregard for the crofter's mire.
Aproned ladies steep the fleece,
In dyes of lichens, hands gnarled and thrawn.
Fishermen haul their herrings ashore,
Through the heathered hills, their battered frames support faces drawn.
A raucous percussion of Gaelic tongues penetrate the fair silver sky,
From the Céilidh House where men sit abreast, sharing yarns and songs of ghosts and traditions, 
Unburdened shoulders raise honey-hued malt to thin craggy lips, 
While women gather their dresses and dance with timely precision. 
At the cockrow, heavy heads jolt, with barley to thresh and turnips to harvest in fields harsh and cloddy, 
The spinning wheel chirps as it gathers the thread, and its well-worn beech frame creaks in submission. 
Confined by our own sincerity to the chains of this well-oiled industry. 
Duty-bound to a rich heritage, a cultured land that beguiles our hearts and clouds our vision. 

Copyright © Julie Cheryl Lloyd | Year Posted 2022

To David The One With A Lion's Heart

To David …. The One With A Lion’s Heart

I never knew you...
At least this side of eternity…
In a way though….
I did know you….
I recognize your heart…

I know the pain of the struggle…
To keep one’s head above water…
Trying not to drown amidst the pain…
Tired of going under…again and again…
Weary of struggling to stay in this life…

Wanting with all one’s heart to be free from the pain and struggle…
To be with Jesus…the Lover of Your Soul….
Running free in the fields of heaven…
Free from the torments of this life...

I know the pain of being confined to the “healing hospital”…
Where one’s dignity is taken away…
Where one’s  voice is not heard...
Where no one asks “why?”…
Where you feel alone and scared and misunderstood….

I know the pain of no one understanding the depths of despair…
That life is too much…too hard to continue the journey...

You were a sensitive soul…
You felt deeply and passionately about life…
Your heart ached for those whose voice was silenced…
You roared like the mighty Lion of Judah…
For those who could not roar….
You felt the pain and suffering of the weak and broken…

David…you …a protector and warrior for the down trodden…
You …a man after God’s heart…
You knew His Heartbeat…
You.. so loved by your family and friends...
You were broken…
You are healed and whole now….
Your heart is free from pain and ache and longing…..

I long for the day when I can meet you …
Face to face…spirit to spirit….
And give you a hug….and say…
Words that I wished I could have said face to face to you on earth:
I know…it is ok…I understand…
You could not hold on one more minute…one more hour…one more day…
There is no condemnation….no shame...

Rest now…in the loving embrace of your Heavenly Father…
You are so loved…..
You are home now….

by Elise Hendry 
December 9, 2018

Copyright © Elise Hendry | Year Posted 2018

To All Our Poets True

When I sit still and calmly read the works of Poets True
It is nice to know I'm not alone because of all of you
There are stories being told here in such different forms and ways
We have happy times, some joy and pain, and some for special days

There are some who write in Haiku, there are those who love Quatrain
We have those who write sweet Sonnets telling us about the rain
But we also have some Poets True who write as though they sing
With a Rhyme Royal or Limerick that will cause your ears to ring

How about the Free Verse Poets and the Funny Poets too
Those Acrostics and the Metaphors that can help the sun shine through
There are Ballad Poems and Lyrics truly wonderful to find
And the Epic Poems and Tanka's that will stir things in your mind

On a quiet night with softened light we'll read an Ode or two
Or a Villanelle or Couplet that someone has shared with you
What about those Nature Poets who can rhyme about the Earth
How the flowers grow in colors even different kinds of dirt

We have those who write of waterfalls; and sounds that fill the air;
Of deep mysteries and great mercies that reveal how we should share
Some are Kyrielles  and Kwansabas that find their way to you
Those Alliteration Poets can help you think of things to do

We have Poets True from nations far that share the things they see
There are dreamers here with mighty words that say we can be free
We read Love Poems so sweetly said they cause your heart to melt
They will talk of Love lost or Love found that's truly deeply felt

Well, I could go on forever speaking of the Poems found
Here on Poetry Soup with you and these true treasures that abound
But I guess I'll stop and thank you all for sharing what you do
And I'll say right here that we are blessed - We all are Poets True!

Copyright © Neva Romaine | Year Posted 2014


Standing here, just standing
looking around at surroundings
enjoying sounds of nature
neighbour’s children’s voices present

Thinking, just thinking
childhood memories, drawing blanks
other times, giving thanks
family faces, flash through my memory

Friend’s faces remembered
childhood pets I miss you
friends, always faithful
sporting deeds gone forever

Wedding feels as if yesterday
wedding bells, oh so joyful
buying renting, filled with emotions
houses lived in, remembered

Children growing, leaving home
memories not always flowing
grandchildren visits, treasured
entertainment always present

Communication oh so valuable
conversations live forever
older age such a challenge
no preparing for its visits

Holding hands, feelings surface
touching hugging, both without question
feel so proud of achievements
love, an often-misused word

In this instance said daily
whispered, brings a smile
standing looking and just thinking
onward upward, positive lessons

Treating others with respect
a sudden memory of one’s teachers
some are good, others threatening
parents included in this section

A voice, brings you out of this thinking
darling, cup of tea waiting
real life does not wait
Why then are we always waiting?

Copyright © John A'hern | Year Posted 2021

The Vegetable Garden

The Vegetable Garden

The garden beckons in the newness of the morning –
 Soft earth giving up the evening chill
  As long sunbeams kiss the soil good morning.

Straight lines of carrots with curly tops
 Dig deep into the daylight hours
  Reaching down to be, at last, raised up.

Radishes and lettuce rows sway in the breath
 Of foggy summer dawns leaving
  Glistening dew before the sun appears.

Along the fence green pole beans scramble up
 On lattice twined with tendrils
  Climbing first to glimpse the garden growing.

Hummingbirds and butterflies come each day
 To gaze and measure growth unseen
  Just the day before.

The season ends with tall tomato plants
 Filling harvest baskets with their scarlet bounty
  As September bids seeds renew in sleep.

The garden beckons, no longer filled  
 With radish rows or carrot tops
  But promises of newly planted apple trees.

Copyright © Sam Kauffman | Year Posted 2019

The Tribute

There are not enough words to describe
The devotion and compassion this poet's eyes beheld.

It was a plain room arranged for safety, 
comfort, and care.
A fine bantam table re-purposed with medical supplies 
for any emergent unplanned surprise.

An unexpected large bed filled the back right corner of the room.
Creating a barrier for an unsteady walk.
Soft pillows surrounded a determined man,
bent over, straining to stand, wanting to rise.
Pursuing some task, he had left undone.

Desperate for freedom, confused, lost in time.
Unaware of the witnesses standing aside,
A woman gently wrapped her arms around the man. 
Intertwined fingers completed a tender restraint.
Whispering, begging him to stay,
Seated beside him protecting the man.

This was a path I had walked before.
I knew it so well as I stood near the door.
Felt the terrible anguish of another parting too soon.
As a daughter held her father.

How unfair it seems to separate this pair.
Why must we rip ourselves apart?
As life starts closing doors.
What is this path we walk down carrying flowers with thorns?
This cruel bitter loss felt by all
as the daughter anointed the man with a gentle touch.
Reposing her head against his thin shoulder
to encouraging his rest.

My heart wanted to hold her, lessen her pain,
Offer her hope, ease the load.
But it was her watch to stand.

I recalled my own dark watches of the night.
The wretched tearing of the soul.
The desperate need to hold on,
Knowing the need to let go.

This was the daughter's obeisance to give away.
All that she was, her loving tribute will ever remain.
As a daughter released her hold on the man.

Copyright © Mary Kate Marozas | Year Posted 2021

The Thin White Duke an Ode to David Bowie

And you think you are fine 
Till they say they want more
And you know you’re not quite right 
You want to be sure
Who would have thought 
Your world would end
As you unwind the string
You don’t want to pretend
I can’t be who you want me to be
My feet are bound to the floor
You leave me twisting in the wind 
As you unlock the door

I think I know
I know you know
You think you 
Know me so well
They think they know me so well

Received an invitation 
to a place you know you can not go
The thin white Duke got lost in here
The ashes melt as you
break the ice
Sanitys’ always got a price
Careful how you balance the costs
Just want to be known for you

I think I know 
I know you know
You think you 
Know me so well 
They think they
Know me so well

Copyright © Kimberly Sikorski | Year Posted 2020

The Reflection

In front of the mirror,

I stare into my eyes

To myself 

I repeat I’m alive 

A terrifying feeling,

A somber realization 

Fear of seeing

The Loneliness of being

Trapped inside myself,

Death the only way out,

Hopelessness and doubt,

I look away,

But the feeling stays 

Finally, reality abates 

Fear Slowly fades,

Back to the mundane 

To the charades 


Copyright © Jim VanDeVelde | Year Posted 2021



words then silence
can alter one’s perception
like being in another world
“get lost” she says
see what i mean

the girl next door
plays the piano badly
oh she is gorgeous
but all turns to ashes
when she murders debussy

those early days
there was this one girl
but i lacked courage
after 30 years she’s fat
and i am prince valiant

oh those short dresses
and so so short
i can’t remember faces
days of the week yes
and colors
first kiss
trying to arrange the angle
close your eyes
go for it
a near miss

Dave Austin

Copyright © daver austin | Year Posted 2015


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