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Featured poems are below...

Featured Poems

Below are PoetrySoup's featured poems for the week starting Sunday, October 14, 2018. Use the numbered navigation below to navigate through all of the featured poetry.


MY Icecream

so smooth you are-
the thought of you soothe's down my throat.
milkshakes, mocha latte's and root beer floats...
baby you are my chocolate chip, you're my honey dip
...and I just love the way your cream is whipped...
butter pecans, hot fudge and caramel
I love your taste and your sweet unforgettable smell...
everytime after tasting mind dwells...
on the rainbow colored sprinkles placed upon you
there's no other flavor I wanna try beyond you...
hot syrup oozing all over you
-no matter cold or're my fondue
baby you're so good, I want double scoops of you
you chill my body in this heat
my favorite dessert, my favorite treat...
without your taste, I'm incomplete
- you give me this feeling-
I never felt...
and when I have you, my heart just melts
...I'll put you in my icebox to preserve you
you taste so good, sometimes I wonder if I deserve you...
slowly churned, soft served and home made...
...I like many kinds...but you're perfect just the way you're made.
I'll place you in my cone and put a cherry on your top
cause baby you're just like icecream...
good to the last drop!

Copyright © Natalie Braddy | Year Posted 2012

My Hammer

With my hammer
Held in my hand
I can destroy a building
Or make it stand!

This amazing tool
Has much use
It can pound something in
Or pry something loose.

I can use it
As a crutch
Or to break ice
For tea at lunch!

I can grip it tightly
To strengthen my wrist
It can be a weapon
Like my fist.

Yes, my hammer
Is a nifty tool
As the tongue
For both, the wise and fool!

The tongue can build up
Or tear someone down
It can pound in hate
Or spread love around!

A tongue can speak loosely
Without a care
Or gently whisper
And cry out in prayer!

Oh, the tongue 
Is such a little member
Much like my hammer
( I must remember)

It can be used 
To strengthen my soul
Or as a weapon
Spinning out of control!

Like a raging fire
The tongue can destroy
But in God’s grace
It will bring much JOY!!!

Written by Stacey Brown


Copyright © Stacey Brown | Year Posted 2014

Ship Wreck

Ship Wreck

What is a friendship?
A ship that doesn't sail.
It's a person to count on,
someone you shouldn't fail.
It's a person whom to look up to,
to care for when not well.
It's a person to confide in,
when a secret you must tell...

What is a friendship?
A ship without the sea.
It's a person you have love for,
that always makes you happy.
It's a person who believes in you,
who's advice should be free.
It's a person you'll share life with,
for all eternity...

What is a friendship?
It's the ship between you and me...

Copyright © Brian Davey | Year Posted 2016

The Country's Song

The Country's Song

A clear crisp October morning perfumed with the aroma of Orange cinnamon buns,

The warm white icing, dripping off the compass that provokes a good morning.

The wind wafted with the scent of Honey from our neighbors Bee hive,

His hand probably was tired from holding a dozen jars,

His bee’s were kind to him, they spared him there stingers.

He was always a friend to the urban wildlife.

That morning he painted his porch for our tiny feet to prance upon.

His bowl was filled with caramel candies, and small candy corns.

And then he disappeared, along with his luggage.

Deep within the layers of the sky a voice echoed…

A silent clucking of Roosters, and Chickens,

This morning there are shards of frilly feathers, and in the coop lays a lazy fox with a date with our neighbors rifle.

Tomorrow he is used as compost,

“Sorry fox” the children say wearily,

The farm owners picked up the eggs that lay astray in the nests

The white, tawny eggs were placed into the cardboard carton.

The Country was baked by the beams of Twilight that lingered across the fields.

The ovens were always full with piping hot Sweet Potato pie, or homemade, freshly picked cherry pie from the Orchard down the road.

The Country was a community, that always held hands, 

Grills were always sweating.

Pumpkin picking was always a ritual we did together as a town,

The contests began for biggest pumpkin, in the Summer so the farmers could begin coaxing their pumpkins to grow bigger.

All love the country, 

All are family, 

And all connect with nature in a enriching way.

So tomorrow I will think about the joy I will feel to hear, smell, and see these glorious sights,
For the country Is home to me.


Copyright © Madison Demetros | Year Posted 2016

A Firefighter One Might See

A little girl I stand, awakened early morning hour.
The sound of shuffles preparing, for coffee one will scour.

Muffled voice all too familiar, for only one it could be.
Dads words saying, “I Love You”, In the next morning I will see.

Pulling out of the drive-way, swiftness to the curtains I will peek.
Thinking about the big firetruck, heartbroken without me, fire he will seek.

Chin up my duty calls me, I drag the hose from tree to tree.
Mr. Owl followed by a quarter, responsibility instilled in me.

By evenings long awaited dusk, another dinner without dad.
We pray with mom at bedside, safe returning to be had.

Memories of impromptu visits, our other family at the station.
Popcorn, chocolate bars and hugs, dads work, a childs’ vacation.

Fond memories growing up, of all the family time we spent.
Cabin, lake and camping, Flashlight tag to no relent.

No matter our scheduled travels, no hesitations to stop and help. 
Morally guided passion, his genuine attributes not found on yelp.

Uncompensated care given, unescaped these childs’ eyes, not to be unseen.
My future I learn to follow, entirely he cares for every human being.

Waves of fear come and go, a firefighter I’m reminded.
Hearing tragic unfortunate news, unsightly loss, for I am blinded.

Thirty-seven this year his daughter, any trouble called upon he’s sure to be.
A guardian angel on my horizon, A firefighter one might see.

Copyright © Chelcie Darling | Year Posted 2016

The Power of Rain

Maybe rain 
really is God's tears 
or needles 
threaded with despair
or some other image 
impossible to conjure 
or forget.
We say so much 
of rain
because it does 
so much to us:
in hordes of vapor
off the coast 
to turn us blue,
casting stones 
as though sinless,
making us forget colors
other than cobalt 
or slate.
For me 
it washes my car,
makes me remember 
new green
and creates 
one more hour 
to be glad.

Posted:  5/5/17
Written:  9/30/97

Copyright © Dale Gregory Cozart | Year Posted 2017

Indian Summer

Indian Summer
Gregory Firlotte

Indian Summer lingers for a while
with a cascade of warm sunlight 
caressing crimson, gold and russet leaves
with deep honey-colored rays. 
The air is quiet like a whisper 
and the earth still smells of late, late Summer grass
and a delicious heady scent permeates every sense.
Corn shocks stand and pumpkins sit majestic in hay-strewn fields 
awaiting their autumnal purpose. 
Crows caw in the distance as if to say, 
"Look! Look at the splendor of it all 
before it flees in cold November winds!"
Tender, sunny days slip into cool twilight quicker and quicker, 
and well-loved and well-worn quilts are pulled closer and tighter 
in an embrace that signals the bittersweet exchange 
of one season with another.
It is a time to nap in a snuggled solitude 
and with a thousand blazing hues hovering overhead 
from leaves that must fatefully drift downward to earth
to rustle in piles around the footfalls
of anyone who has ever dreamed deep orange dreams.
O, Indian Summer! Yes, Indian Summer! 
Please stay, we beg. 
Let the warmth of your gentle hand 
touch us just a little longer 
as we walk in meadows and along paths, 
still intoxicated with golden, sunlit yesterdays.

copyright © 2017 Gregory Firlotte

Copyright © Gregory Firlotte | Year Posted 2017

I Opened A Window

I Opened A Window #6

I open a window and love flew in for the first time,
The only thing I wish to say,
It must of come from the great 

It's now inside of me, 
It's growing and taking it's time.

I had to somehow share it with the whole world, 
Otherwise, it would be a shame and some sort of a crime

It is for one person and also the many,
You see her name is Debbie and we once married.

About this love I'm speaking about,
I was not in the mood to even charge a penny.

My heart was beating hard in my chest,
That is where It is stored,
You know that is the best place..

I felt as if somehow I was connecting with the people all over this world,
It covered me all over,
Like water in a warm pool.

You see I knew it was the universe speaking to me directly,
This my friends was no coincidence,
It was connectivity.

I would like for all of you to know,
That my love is here for the taking. 

There is no need for fact checking,
You see I'm just here waiting and I'm kind of shaking.

By Marc Acrich


Copyright © Marc Acrich | Year Posted 2018


Something had to give
Or, it was going to break
…explode into fragments so sharp they could sever gravity
The machine had been running on vapors for far too long
Nothing oiled
Nothing lubed
Everything got too hot too quickly
Everything groaned, screeched, & whined as it threatened to seize
Each piece, to the tiniest, was twisted, and skewed six ways from Sunday
It was so many things…
The one thing it wasn’t….
It wasn’t good
So far removed from good that it was miserable
A junk pile of outdated parts
A wretched heap of uselessness
The rub?
…it wasn’t always in such disrepair
When it was in its prime, it ran like a syrupy dream
A dream that promised an eternity
Now, that dream was pregnant with sorrow, & about to birth a bitter end
It promised nothing more
The tank long emptied
It promised nothing more than
The lengthy, messy, harrowing task of dismantling the machine
Piece by piece
Each stamped with painful memory
…a reminder of what it used to be.

Copyright © Heidi Coon | Year Posted 2018


I am a sculpture 
Crafted from the materials 
Of being scolded,
I'm molded 
From being told that
What I am is not who I ought to be
And where I'm going is not the best place for me.
Lost with this concept 
My hear full of hatred 
and my hands fill wit guilt
Curling my fingers around the judgement 
And the grudges
Until it seeps
 through the creases 
Of my knuckles 
Unable to drop it 
until I've found clarity 
Until I've found somewhere to place it.

Copyright © Kjerstine Willis | Year Posted 2018

The Mystery of Life

                "The Mystery  of Life"

Living in this world is full of mystery,
Some lived the fullest, some in misery,
It's because we're not born equally,
That's how we're created differently.

God made and gave us life purposively,
Some questioned out of curiosity, 
Others wanted answers immediately, 
It's up for us to discover apparently, 

Being rich or poor is not a destiny,
It's a choice anyone can fulfill freely,
You can be rich someday, gradually, 
And be forever poor intentionally.

Dreaming is the first step actually, 
Fulfilling gives hindrances occasionally,
Achieving success is not that easy,
If attained, the prize is really worthy. 

Having tough time fighting courageously, 
Gives million of reasons to stand firmly,
It leads to a brighter future surely, 
That's how God plans perfectly. 


Copyright © Ramona Aguirre | Year Posted 2018

The Hunt

The raven lands on the branch with ease
Feathers glisten a purplish hue in The moonlights glow 
Chestnut eyes glare down below

The prey awaits for the wolves to devour
So the wolf bird calls upon the hour
And as the wolves sink there teeth into the flesh
The raven comes down to taste the death

Copyright © Sarah Payne | Year Posted 2018

Park run getting into shape

Park run getting into shape

Thank you for the Park run,
They really are so much fun.

At Tring you go up a rise,
Then through a gate,
A little rooty and muddy surprise,
Before the welcome flat that’s great.

Then along the Ridge path covered in leaves,
Unlike the climb you can run with ease.
As you move along the Ridge, there’s lovely good news,
Through the multi coloured autumn leaves, you get fabulous views.

Soon, at the end you go downhill.
Arms out, almost flying, gives you a thrill.
Down, down, hear the Marshall cheer,
Except on Park run they are called volunteer.

Out onto the grassland, with a pant and maybe wheeze,
It’s refreshing hearing the wind whistle through the trees.

Down, then up carefully round the slippy hairpin bend.
The steadying Marshall, encouraging like a friend.

It’s open, other runners are friendly, as you go up and down,
When you’ve climbed up twice, round the bend and you’re homeward bound.

At bit more flat, then up the hill.
The finishing line is closer still.
Have you got a sprint left to the end?
Across the line you get chip time my friend.
It’s so well organised, there is no queue,
Come next Saturday morning you’ll know what to do.
It may be rain, obviously better in the sun.
But get out there, keeping fit, Enjoy the Park run.


Copyright © Phillip Rance | Year Posted 2018

I Am

Im not that lady loved by all,
Dont wishing diamonds or precious gold.
Im not that one who likes to prettend
Dont wish to wear any diamond ring.

I am that simple ,love simple life living
With a bamboo house,surrounded of
Wonderful garden.
I am that easy to love but easy get hurt,
Im so sensitive but i cant blame myself.

The way i am isn't perfect
No doubts in my mind 
Im different i guees
But i guees idont mind.
But iknow somewhere out there 
Is only for me.
My sneakers,my jeans
My fancy jewelry.
So goodbye past im in the roll
to have or to hold.
 I am what what i am
I m nobody !
But real to be me.

Copyright © Lorena Glodeviza | Year Posted 2018

Unrequited Love

Gentle dove with crystal breath
 with plumes that touch my heart
 you bring a message of my death
 when you say we'll be apart

 I will not leave, here I must stay
 for my heart remains with you
 darling, love will find a way
 if you could believe it too
 Dove looked down with sorrow
 and shook her head once more
 there can be no tomorrow
 for with me, you cannot soar

 You are a cat, I am your lunch
 what future could we share
 I hear you, but I have a hunch
 you'd eat me, without a care 

Copyright © Milly Hayward | Year Posted 2018

Letter to Jesus

Too many times Lord you saved my life you kept me safe away from harm when I couldn't carry on it was you Jesus who gave me that push the push I need in life that boost I needed to lift my spirit your love for me is Everlasting you died for my sins when they scratch you and hung you high on Calvary Lord I look to you when all my strength is gone on sometimes when it rains it pours but God will open your heart and fill it with forgiveness and love oh lord it's your child I need you you said you would never leave me so I'm leaning on your Everlasting word Lord Since I Lay all the things I used to do down and gave my life to you my family and friends they don't treat me the same they treat me like a stranger but Lord I know when is all over in the skies will part you will meet me at the Pearly Gates with the crown full of gold saying job well done my child Lord I give you my heart my soul I live for you every moment I make every breath I take is you Lord who gave me the strength to fight another day so I look to you cuz you are the man who parted the Red Sea who delivered the children out of Israel Who deliver me who delivered and set me free I never want to feel forsaken by The Man Who Loved me before I was even was born that's why I put my hands in the hand of the man who stilled the waters who died just for me the king who was From Galilee BY: Victoria Nicole Jones

Copyright © VICTORIA JONES | Year Posted 2018


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