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
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
WILL NEVER GIVE UP
Have a sense of PURPOSE
Are STRONGER than they think
PLAY by the RULES
Have ATTITUDE
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
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
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 someone leaves
it is so loud
so personal
so silent
a deafening emptiness
with a middle ear only you can hear
you
are
not coming back
you
are
never coming back
I have to know that
right
So
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
Still
I miss
the fragrance of your pleasure
a voice that satisfies
the vapor of a distant string
that did not know
it was holding
together
a life
that would never be
But
your vibrations
are all around still
velvet passionate silver raindrops
they linger
knowing
me
finding
me
I know
you rarely think of we
you moved up and I moved around
Still you
a most beautiful drug
now a humiliating habit
Now
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
that
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
Wondering
where is this place
that all lost love really goes
if love never dies
I would want to visit there
and apologize
So
what happens to the lover
who is not ready
to walk alone
Copyright © Gabrielle Jordan | Year Posted 2018
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
Viola
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
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 blame..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
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 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
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
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
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
JEV
Copyright © Jim VanDeVelde | Year Posted 2021
THE PITCH 2
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