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Quote LeftYou've charmed us. It is a privilege to compete in the inspirational poetry contests you design and judge. You give this community of poets something to write about; something to reach for; a reason to try new poetry forms; and a way to measure success. Your contests are enjoyable and your efforts are praiseworthy. Thank you!Quote Right

Comment By: C. R.


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Featured Poetry: Week Starting Sunday, July 16, 2017

Below are PoetrySoup's featured poems of the week. Congratulations to our featured poets. Poems are rotated each day in groups of 14-18 to give each poem an equal opportunity to be displayed. Those who post a lot of poetry and actively comment on the poetry of others are more likely to have their poetry featured. The only guaranteed way to be featured is to become a Premium Member Featured poetry is below.

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A Modern Mother's Lament

*Song Lyric,

I listen to the songs today,
That people like to play,
About the wild side of life,
And the honky tonk cafes.

You can find them in the tavern,
Opening time till it does close.
Hiding in a little corner,
With someone no one knows.

Why are people so unhappy?
Just what are they searching for?
Everyday things that are common,
They seem most to abhore.

They turn to drinking, turn to wandering,
From smoking pot to L.S.D.
All their cares are supposed to vanish, 
Make their worlds trouble free.  

Fire bombing, campus up roar,
Just hi jack a plane or two,
Help yourself to your neighbor,
Or anything else you want to do.

We teach our children Love of God,
And respect for marriage too,
Teach them honesty and justice,
And to their country to be true.

Will they be strong enough to resist it?
Will temptation lure them on,
It breaks my heart to see this happen,
In a world so rich and strong.

I am a Mother and I worry,
Just which will out children choose,
Will they remember what we taught them? 
Or will they their souls lose?   

                           Cile Beer

written 1976

Copyright © Marycile Beer | Year Posted 2005

Before & After {Double Septulet}

Once was
So soulless

Who give
Praise to God
Will discover
He forgives
All our

Copyright © Michael Jordan | Year Posted 2007


We need not doubt, but believe that we have been wonderfully, graciously saved.
When we confessed our sins to Him he cleansed us and forgave.
Jesus saved us from our sins He forgives us and He heals.
Our hope and salvation rest in Him and is sure, despite how we feel.
So often with earthly things we try to fill the void.
But with my Jesus so many people try to avoid.
I seriously hope that we will find contentment.
In God we should trust but not with resentment.
For we can never fulfill what’s lacking unless Christ comes inside.
So let's put away all our own discrimination and pride. 
Do I have say any more? 
We need to stop and ask ourselves what is it we’re looking for?
And can we truly be fulfilled if we don’t allow the Lord.
For God has created us to need Him.
And fills us with His love so we won’t need more worldly things.
But doesn't it seem so crazy or strange.
That we still crave for ungodly stuff.
So ask yourself Our God has definitely gave us His son Jesus now isn't that enough. 


Copyright © Jeffrey Lee | Year Posted 2008

The Poet

The Poet always weaves his thoughts
with a fine needle and thread
each word carefully placed
intricately woven, carefully chosen
like the finest piece of Normandy lace.

His words... just as the winds, wind themselves through
treeless forests of mind, seeking a bud to bear
over both emotionally calm and stormy seas
the Poet's verses dance about your head as loose strands of your hair
He's sending you his thoughts, his visions, his burdons to share.

He has a voice that carries on the wind
exploring exotic places far and wide
that make us feel for things, for life itself
both small and with a sense of pride.

He writes of strong love, he writes of plain life
he writes with emotion, he writes of the strife
he writes of the present, the future and what's been
he writes of the angels, he writes of life's sins.
he writes with a passion, its all that hes got
its his life's fulfillment, its his God given lot.

Crossing the world's highest mountaintops
across the world's most arid sands
his voice sweeps across this country
his voice carries across this land
Sweet songs of mental liberation
for both woman and man.

Copyright Christine A Kysely December 13, 2010

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

Copyright © christine a kysely | Year Posted 2010

City Of Palaces

Each hall in every palace is a death
that's been for cen'tries; never ask it why;
it leads the hearts of men, in ev'ry breath
to join the call to arms, and go to die.

and what has led them on is what's been willed
to handed down, and what's been going on;
the shackles then are forged,  the cup is filled
to overflowing with each troubled dawn.

Why else but Sarajevo is the cause?
Division of a way of life they live,
if you should ask them why, they say it was,
and so it is; it's all that life can give.

The beauty that was Sarajevo's charm
will come and go with every call to arm.

Copyright © Vee Bdosa | Year Posted 2011

Screening Process

"Screening Process"
They overtake, they overcome
Making us forget where we are from

Expansion of a new world means contraction of another 
through unauthentic, pixilated possibilities 
While pioneers stay in cubicles these days
They refuse to compute, losing touch, losing touch

Experience depends on going with the flow
 Of electricity, pay the bill to get a thrill
how much absence of the outside do we need?
Our hearts have grown fond enough.
If we are taking one step forward, 
Why does it feel like two steps back?

Sitting down we are planted, grounded 
The sedentary seed supposed to grow, I merely

Wish to wash technology away
 Doused in sheets and the rain of regret
To touch and smell and get a taste of the real
Let's go play a game of catch.

Copyright © karl marszalowicz | Year Posted 2011

wrote it

wrote it
not in correct form
wrote it again
true to form
For: Cyndi MacMillian's Contest Creativity---Write A Modern Haiku Honorable Mention

Copyright © Carol Sunshine Brown | Year Posted 2011

Debs Angels

Debs Angels
Beautiful in color and personalities to match effortlessly they float along.  Lacey Veils long and flowing draw attention whenever they dart from place to place!
Sizes range from small to large. Both male and female drift side by side. My angels greet me daily, always happy moving swiftly to be closest to me. The lights now shine and highlight the colors making them sparkle. 
Their names all seem surreal. I picked them by their colors and personalities. Not one sounds of this world if you know what I mean! Their angels after all and deserve fitting names. Several times a day often times at night as well, I check on my angels to ensure all is right. 
My angels I do love and I know they love me too. We spend time together learning things from one another. I know what they like and what causes them distress too! My angels are special and their care depends on me. 
My angels, all eight of them live in a 120 gal tank. My angels are my fish. These special fish bring peace and joy to my life and in turn I ensure great health and peace to them! From babies to adults they have grown with personality and beauty each one. 
They are my angels bringing love and happiness. Today, I look for my angels and them for me. We greet each other with passion and continued hope for yet another day. These you see are Debs Angels!
                                                                                      Debbie Knapp.

Copyright © Debbie Knapp | Year Posted 2011

In this pool of BLOOD

In this pool of blood...I lie
the same pool of blood that was once running thru my veins-
causin' me so much suffering...so much pain
...with this tainted blood, my life was strained
...in this pool of blood, I soak
...this pool of blood...troubles in my life evoked
in this pool of blood...I wish I'd drink and choke
this pool of blood...that I slit my wrist
...and even thought about my throat
in this pool of blood...I hope they find me
...this pool of blood, so dark red and thick...defines me
tainted blood running thru my veins-
I've caused so much suffering...so much pain
...so in this pool of blood I lie
mama don't you scream, daddy don't you cry
...cause in this pool of blood...is where I chose to say

Copyright © Natalie Braddy | Year Posted 2012

Two Lonesome Doves

Just two lonesome doves lost in a field full of grain
if one flies one way the other will be lost in the wind
oh, but how those doves wanted to be free but were so scared 
holding onto each other until the bitter end

Just a little longer they thought, and we will be okay
no one cared what happened to them in those days
when one cried out the other one fell to the ground
it seemed no one could see what their needs truly were

So they thought it best to relocate them to a better place
have you ever seen doves cry as they hold onto a strange life
their hearts still beat the same, but now they knew what lonesome meant
and night after night they untucked their weary heads looking to the stars

Two lonesome doves dreamed of how things should be
softly they cooed the others name alone in the dark
oh, but the price of the cost to be free was ever-so great
don't ever think one doesn't share the pain the other feels

That field full of grain felt like nothing without the one that they loved
lonesome dove coos go out each night praying the other will fly to them
lost in the wind they have to be, doves have a forever kind of love
until that day, we all watch the tragedy when two doves cry

Inspired by:

Ray Lamontagne Let it be me Lyrics 

Oh no she is in her mp3, help us Lord! lol 

Copyright © Danielle Wise Baxter | Year Posted 2012

Morning Star

Sunlight lives in you.
Awakened by a dawning love,
your eyes shine gold.
When peaceful night turns to morn, 
the stars dream on your shoulders.

Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2012

The Plate

I bent over to pick up the broken pieces of the plate,
this was Grandma's favorite plate.
She had gotten this plate from her mom,
it had always occupied that same spot behind the couch.
The same couch we where not allowed to sit on.
It was still like new covered with a thick piece of plastic,
the plastic used to be clear, now it was yellow with age
Beside the couch on end tables there were cut glass bowls filled with candy,
the candy was multi colored with verticle stripes, 
they looked like miniture pillow but without the softness.
Like the couch the candies were meant for looking at, 
almost to much for an eight year old boy.
I wanted to be a good boy so I only took a few,
they looked better than they tasted.
I walked to the kitchen to find some glue.
I had hoped she wouldn't notice
back it went to it's special spot
When she got home and looked at me I cried and told her it was broken
She just held me and said it was okay
Grandmas are like that

By Richard Lamoureux
"Picking up The Broken Pieces" contest

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2012

The Fortress

This fortress is coming down;
It's been a long time in the making.
This bastion can't hold its own;
All these walls are shaking.

Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2012



Having settled into a firmament
of tarnished soil, 
your sprouted roots 
bring forth sullied growth.

What was blessed 
by the sun at birth, 
now hides
in deep shadows 
of the moon,
living half a life in darkness
creating the fear that 
comes from a wolf's howl.

C.A.K. 11-3-2012


We are born innocent,
but soon learn to distrust.
Racial prejudice, bigotry,antisemitism  
emboldens and excites ignorance
and soon hate becomes the bigot's
religion of choice. 

Copyright © Allan Koven | Year Posted 2013

The Time of Autumn

I lay nude at sunset on a cliff above the sea.
Heaven and Earth erupt in red and orange brilliance.
A cool wind wafts over me smells of salt spray.
In this time of Autumn.

And at my side, a woman I still barely know
Caresses my quivering skin --
Filling me hard with her anticipation;
Her gleaming blond hair flowing over me.

I suspend a precious moment of eternity -- full that I am --
Immersing my senses in her womanhood:
	Her comforting smile and inviting eyes,
	Her clean unperfumed scent,
	I gently cup her tender small breast.
So I watch, I smell, and I touch.
I want this immersion to last.
For truly this is a celebration of life!
We share here in our time of Autumn.

Copyright © Sam Toil | Year Posted 2014

The Devil Can Cite Scripture For His Purpose

To the Dove World Outreach Center and Westboro Baptist Church

At the Sunday gospel meeting
Coded words of hate repeating
Welcome in if you're Caucasian
Enter not if black or Asian

Sheeple purple Kool-Aid drinking 
For the ones who do their thinking
Giving up their right to question
For a soothing mind possession

You'll take no vino with the host
It might offend the Holy Ghost
So you'll save your Ray-Bans for
The covered drive-thru liquor store

Come sit upon the front row pews
Be born again to hate the Jews
All brother this and sister that
Unless you wear a bishop's hat

You handle snakes and speak in tongues
But you can't even spell in one
You know a single Spanish phrase
And that's "Habla usted ingles?"

You can abuse that Venezuelan
While you worship Sarah Palin
Who can stoke your fiery yearning
For a little Koran burning

You're the lily of the valley
At the LGBT rally
In the spirit charismatic
And the gun on automatic

Time to do some holy rolling
Just outside your place of polling
In each verse and chapter quoting
Clear instructions for your voting

* Title is from The Merchant of Venice - Act 1, Scene 3

Copyright © Roy Jerden | Year Posted 2014

Migaloo - The Great White Whale

Down below pelagic giant lids peep
  upon the watching boat's sea hunt and chase;
great barnacled seafarers of the deep
  a voyage of the Great White Whale retrace!
Beneath the waves in echolocation
  breaching bulls and cows dive the feeding pod,
where from its depths of ocean migration
  lives the ghost of Ahab and the Pequod!
Now age-old haunts and breeding grounds die out
  but not the chilling whalesong far reaching,
only cavernous mouths unmade to shout
  trapped by moon and tide on remote beaching.
Beware the flencer - the harpoon's death throes,  
and may long live the shout of "thar she blows!"

                    Written: July 1992

Copyright © Keith Trestrail | Year Posted 2014

Life Is Strange

Life Is Strange

We don’t make a lot of money,
its okay, still getting by.
Taste of bitter with the honey,
life is funny, wonder why.

One day you have the spirit, hope’s
candle, a flame burning high,
all dazzled by the dangling ropes...
This strangled...innocence died.

Though rubbed and soothed, outlook remains
on guard with its shame for you...
‘cause twice is stupid without brains,
so the dreams are very few.

Now spirit seems to wax and wane
like tides on the drifting shore.
Weather marks leave an ugly stain.
a past that’s hard to ignore. 

Janet Vick

Copyright © Janet Vick | Year Posted 2014