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Quote LeftSince I've discovered this website, it has become my favorite. I like the setup and no other site I've found offers 'My Favorite Poems.' Before I found this site, I was often unable to post my poetry on other sites because they exceeded the 'line limit' and that was disappointing. Quote Right

Comment By: Kris DC


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Featured Poetry: Week Starting Sunday, July 23, 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.

The poems are below...

Click on the numbered navigation below to navigate through all of the featured poetry.



Seasons change again,
Spring at last has gone away,
Summer Summer now.

Copyright © Wm Paul | Year Posted 2015


please, let me embrace
this spiritual place
from where i emanate

give me the power
to endure
that i may elevate

and understanding,
and wisdom,
-will perpetuate

a deeper level of vision 
that i may

and i will rise above
towards love

and u will rise above 
towards love

and we will rise above
towards love

allow me patience, 
and trust,
inside my circumference

360 degrees

and bless me
with maturity
to balance childishness

for he who seeks 
begins with humbleness.

and i will rise above
towards love

and u will rise above
towards love

and we will rise above
towards love

i seek the blessings 
of those
of higher consciousness

i walk the roads
of divine complete 

and in my mind
i can find
that which is endless

but still
i have to confess
i need a place
-to rest-

and i will rise above
towards love

and u will rise above
towards love

and earth will rise above
towards love


Copyright © Trevor Houchen | Year Posted 2005

The Thousandth and One Face of a Hero

Somewhere out there in the world

There was a girl, No! strike that—a woman.

He saw as a girl, but knew as a woman.

And loved her only like a man, only a real man can.

A full grown man. Past his trials and tribulations that plague an adolescent youth, posturing while attempting to prove his valor, worth and to much a female’s ambivalent chagrin, his dominance. In his tiny kingdom. Which was really the vast universe of all that crazy phenomenon human beings gave the quirky abstract thing a name. They called it love.

That’s been written about by bards and authors alike. Between a male and a female, the dark to your light. Hey, who is dark anyway? It must be Eve.
Anyhow. Somewhere in the world this forthright, upstanding citizen of a girl, this woman had such an “understanding that she’d see him [in his entirety] like a poem or a story. And "find his words so valuable after all that when he confessed his apprehensions she would explain why they were in fact the very things that made him precious to her.”  The Gestalt view of the man. She knew him entirely. Read him like a book. She knew the plot the exposition, the conflict the Rising Action (wink wink) the dénouement and the resolution. As the French would say, n'est-ce pas.

No, like a poem. A poem she wishes she could write. She knew where the best pages of him were. Existing in dog-eared pages with phrases that described earmarked features. Monumental features that tore her heart asunder. Features that filled her up. As god as her witness shed never be hungry again. To lie awake and think of his soul, seeping out of his mouth with words reverberating her own. Oscillating tiny bones, giving semiotics new meaning with each locution.

Don’t over analyze the symbolism here reader. She’d lie awake and ruminate his gestures, his mannerisms. His smile. And the way his face would look in different light. And how when he laughed the crinkles that formed around those intelligent eyes after he eloquently would mouth some truism. And she knew this face appeared throughout history. And she knew a writer of ballads wrote “don’t shove me while I’m drowning… were all just hunting for love” and she read once an author noted: “almost all the people on the boardwalk were paired off into couples.” The end.

Copyright © Toni Orban | Year Posted 2017

Sweet Butterfly

Sweet Butterfly, with wings now dry 'tis time to break away
and light upon the leaves of dawn while weeping willows sway,
not reminisce 'bout chrysalis discarded yesterday,
but treasure life, with colors rife in nature's cabaret.

Sweet Butterfly, I've heard you sigh "terrene so strange and new"
but take a chance, with winged expanse of fairy-like bijou, 
to taste delight in random flight, to drift beyond the blue
and then collect her pearly nectar, sipped like morning dew.

Sweet Butterfly, you question why the breeze is seldom soft  
when swirling you, your wings askew, while floating free aloft.
Some seem to find their peace of mind believing gods have coughed,
but others, downed, have often found more freedom when they've scoffed.

Sweet Butterfly, you needn't cry, the fields are full of clover,
like meadowlands of braided strands in winds and waves that wove her -
but if you fear that, more than here, the other side is mauver, 
just flutter by, behind the sky, unfettered flitting rover.

Sweet Butterfly, farewell, goodbye, you've left the world behind.
We now look back along the track of flowers that you've mined
recalling days of light sashays and movements unconfined
that complement the firmament where beauty lies enshrined.

Copyright © Terry O'Leary | Year Posted 2014

Lucky Pot

Find, find
The lucky eternity pot in life
There's one in every house
Look in the shadows
That burns without a fire
Where all dreams come true
You will never want for anything again
If you find It
Look for your dreams
But don't drown in all its wealth

Copyright © Tahira Parveen | Year Posted 2016

Who's Afraid of the Dark

Oh mother, dear mother, come make my bed,
for the sun grows tired and has lost its shine;
come bless the place where I will lay my head,
surround it with angels, all that’s divine.
Oh mother, dear mother, come bar the door,
count the slow clock's chime as shadows descend.
Eve's breeze is now listless, birds sings no more,
all the land lays in silence , till night ends.
Oh mother, dear mother, sing me to sleep,
drown the foul voice of fears infestation;
let us join strength, to one another keep,
safe here in your care, and consolation.

Dear father, please protect us through the night,
save us from all harm, till dawn brings us light

Copyright © T.Nicole Williams | Year Posted 2014

Heart Shaped Tears

today as she looked at herself in the silver glass
she cried a heart shaped tear
she was amazed at the face she wore
and the heart shaped tear on her earned web
like a ladybug gets caught in a spider web
she got caught up in your spiderweb of untruths
as she cried the tears of her heart
she wished upon a silver star
that you would somehow be looking back
and she figured you probably are
she felt the tear upon her face
and wished you were there to stand face to face
to reflect upon how she could make amends
and see your untruths as your only truth
and in the silver glass she saw a woman still in love
lives exposed and fretted with passion
she hopes you find her
so she can find herself
she saw it all in the silver glass
with a star of silver
hearts lost to find one another
she the keeper of heart shaped tears

By Susan Mills

Copyright © Susan Mills | Year Posted 2010



I shall remember that
You raised my head
At the table of doubt
Where I brought my soul
Where the mundane day’s sounds
Rebound into a silent symphony.
There to reassure, 
Give strength to endure
An elder’s lonely days.
You loving me,
                   Yours truly

Copyright © Sunlite Wanter | Year Posted 2016

The Cure To Everything

Offer decay for my maggot king,
Plant people not flowers,
Untold power but just witnessing,

The meat and the bones surround,
Eat people not sushi,
Can see death but what have we found?

Production means we can consume,
Deny people grace,
Glittered path to our abortion room,

I hold my pen my like five charging rams,
Crush people like sawdust,
My redemption was never even a plan

My words aren't just empty they are screaming,
It's like the insects have found a better meaning,
Open my eyes and the nightmares not so far away,
Why does tomorrow have to happen today?

Life's just a bomb that I'm winding,
Only out to hurt the ones that love,
If you could see through my eyes,
And ask how could Heaven let this happen,
Would you scrape their ending off of me?

What if I let,
The weapon philosophy,
What if I make,
Psychotic symphony,
What if I act,
Like you are the enemy,
What if I hurt,
All that's real to me,

Lasted but for just how much longer now?
People spread like disease,
Age of information but you don't know how,

You're reaching out with prosthetic arms,
People alive in paradox,
Grazing your feces for the political farms,

Times like this have happened before,
Great flood for people,
Deconstruction of the envious core,

In the damage of blind acceptance,
No more people,
Suicide is our only life in penance,

All we can be is sin in our citizenship,
Like the fallen Gods they pretend to worship,
Dark and cold so we engulf ourselves in flames,
God loved me but it's not a lover's game,

Life's just a bomb that I'm winding,
Only out to hurt the ones that love,
If you could see through my eyes,
And ask how could Heaven let this happen,
Would you scrape their ending off of me?

What if I break,
The spinal deception,
What if I seek,
The violent affection,
What if I call,
Demon infestation,,
What if I sink,
The forgiving isolation.

Copyright © Steven Delauder | Year Posted 2016

shady lady

There once was a lady who loved to face the sun
      Following it as it crossed the sky,
Particularly between the hours of eleven to one.
      But  no one could figure out why.
Some said to develop a sunny disposition
      To overcome a previous condition
For  it was rumored that this lady
      Had a background that was shady.

Copyright © Stanley Ohlswager | Year Posted 2016


I feel like since Facebook, I’ve been living in the past
Seeking old friendships that I once thought would last.

But I noticed with some, whom I fortunately found
With each passing day, those friendships lost ground.

Although as a friend they generally accept
Yet with one another, we seldom connect!

So why have I, continued to search?
Is it to find a friend, or my heart to birch?

Is it because I’m trying to find my way?
So I keep looking back, to that good ole day?

Maybe for me, it’s just really hard to part
I don’t know, that’s my shot in the dark!

King Solomon warned us: he said it’s not wise
To question the former; because today is the prize!

So I think I will change this silly approach
Wear the friends that I have, like a diamond filled broach!

And if by some divine intervention
Paths cross again, I will pay close attention!

But until that day, I will press towards my calling
And thank my Lord Jesus that I’m standing not falling!
                                                                                        Stacey Brown 3-5-14

Copyright © Stacey Brown | Year Posted 2014


I will wait for the phone to ring
       Without a dial tone!
Did I not pay my phone bill?
Ring! Ring it's the  TELEPHONE.

 A very unusual way to leave the world.
       Let's all thank,
For one of the world's best inventions
The most valuable means of communication.
      UN-great-full we are,
Abandoning the telephone in every nation
We now consider the cell phone a better creation.
What happens to talk to our friends from home.
Now you are talking while pumping gas at the gas station.
Driving around while talking on the phone.
You don't care about your situation.
Just as long your antenna is not on roaming.
What happen to s.o.s. Communication.
Now we TEX with addiction.
Do not forget about the phoning internet.
Do not forget about the year1876.


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2010


Floating above my hand outstretched
Is a bubble of reflective rainbow colors
Coming from a wand in her fingers
Belonging to my sister, younger than me
She flies around blowing all about
Bubbles that float beyond my eyes
Seeing their lift above her head
While my parents laugh at the sight
She brings to their eyes, while I watch
Their interest in her every doings
Running around with the dog, blowing
More bubbles around their heads
They try to grab each one in their hands
While I believe they levitate above mine
Imagining their invincibility towards
My sister’s shrill voice, screeching 
Along the yard like a siren, blaring
Without an emergency, save my ego
As the last bubble pops in my hand

Russell Sivey

Copyright © Russell Sivey | Year Posted 2017

Reflections of summer

Powder blue sky without imperfection
horizon soothed with voiles of heat haze
amiable breeze a caressing distraction 
to alleviate celestial fieriness ray's,
floral tapestry feathery foliage of green
contrasting multi coloured layered themes
of delight, peaceful, tranquil, clear and serene
turning reality into soul satisfying dreams,
sultry evenings attracting light drawn insects
Silhouettes darting between dark and light
Creating shadows delivering special effects 
in the minds directory no cause to rewrite,
fruit trees, cereals in fields, lush berry bushes
flourish anointed with enriched liquid gold
spray dispensed by ripened Angels blushes,
creating summery  tales, stories to be told,
nectar harvesting bees happily pollinate 
causing hive of activity within honey factory
dancing left, right, directed route to navigate,
Sourcing products to replenish their refectory, 
summertime new beginnings, recreation 
for young, old, beauty to enjoy and behold
natures creations, Earths natural plantation,
balanced, nourished, satisfied, controlled.

Copyright © Roy Pett | Year Posted 2016

Eden lost

Hush! say nothing son.
Suffer his sins silently.
Silence is golden.

Copyright © Ross Blade | Year Posted 2016

My Soul

Im falling in place, but at My own pace surrounded by Faith, yet this all seems a mistake as My heart begins to race, I see the sweat dripping from My souls face, but I'm making no haste as i bake My fate, bitter as it seems the honesty i taste, choking back the tears of late. This is a conscious take, so the pain fills the lake, its like I'm drowning in fate but I eat an apple every day, And I'm not afraid, cause deaths the only things thats always been certain, so as the curtains close, I do supposed, My conscious approaches the floor. Shine the light on the words as they hobble out the door, I say I’m blessed cause I plan, We all ascend above man, and our souls are the divine lands, we should protect them with our hands, weather conscious or not these words will touch the heart. I see the art of the dark it glitters and sparks rocks that ark cross the stars leaving humans in awe. Don’t you hate on heart My conscious is dark, like space it births lights as gifts to the trees, so from my conscious please, can you stop destroying these!

Copyright © Rospel Funk | Year Posted 2016

I Receive - Thoughts In My Garden

Parallel lines scratch the landscape
incipient, the wild returns peer...
Dandelions , Chickweed and Mustard Garlic dot the landscape
A quintessential quest to share 
I gaze in all hope awaiting a dream
I nurture thy soil and give all belief
soon shall come thy rain
a gift and a need

Dainty white and yellow flowers so succulent , soon I shall receive

Copyright © Rick Parise | Year Posted 2010

A philatelic pandect

A is for an album to hold my stamp hoard,
B is for back of book where my “specials” are stored.

C is for the cancellation that causes such strife,
D is for definitives with their unlimited life.

E is for excitement, the thrill of the find,
F is for fiscal and its financial bind.

G is for the gum that sticks them in the post,
H is for the hinges displaying those I love most.

I is for imperforates, those joined with no holes,
J is for a Johfra box to soak off without bowls.

K is for a killer mark that destroys a stamp’s worth
L is for local stamps with a limited dearth.

M is for the magnifying glass used for searching out flaws
N is for the newspaper stamps that brought headlines to our doors.

O is for “officials” with a government cachet
P is for postage due when the sender fails to pay. 

Q is for the Queen’s head on all British stamps
R is for retouches and forgers re vamps.

S is for a stockbook for stamps that are spare
T is for tweezers to handle them with care.

U is for unused, a stamp postally mint,
V is for variety, it has a fault in its print.

W is for watermark to prove authenticity
X is for xanthic spots, rust, that strikes without pity.

Y is for youngsters and encouraging their dream
Z is for Zemstvo a rare Russian theme.

To see a stamp thrown in the bin, now that is such a crime,
I’ll revere it in my collection making it sublime.

Written 1st March 2013 by Rachel Fawcett. I am a Trained Nurse by day and spend my time off collecting stamps and trying to write poetry.  I haven’t been publicly writing very long and this is only the second poetry competition I've ever entered.  I love writing as it stretches my imagination and I enjoy the challenge it brings.  I love collecting stamps as they bring order to my mind. 

Copyright © Rachel Fawcett | Year Posted 2013