About Poems - Poems about About

I told my mother I loved him. She said I was wrong. I told my father I loved him. He said I was young. I did not know if either of those things were true. But I knew they did not love each other....

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I WALK AROUND WITH A BACKPACK FULL OF MEMORIES, DOZENS OF PICTURES, AND MOMENTS CAPTURED IN MY HEART AND MIND. I WISH I COULD RETURN TO SOME MOMENTS, AND THERE ARE SOME MOMENTS THAT I WOULD LIKE TO EASE FROM EXISTENCE. MY EXPERIENCES HAVE MADE ME WHO I AM, A UNIQUE, EMOTIONAL, LOVING, AND CARING MAN. THE BEATINGS...

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I'm caramel, gooey and sometimes saucy. Sweet but sometimes salty. Everybody knows it ~ not sure if you do I'm still figuring out what you are because once I've seen your prickly side I keep picturing you as jalapeno To be quite honest ~ I can't help but think we might not be the ideal combination AP: Honorable Mention 2025 ...

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Large and in highway charge Highway power Hour by Hour A name among giants The Greyhound bus name started as a car Miles after Miles the bus company has gone far It surrounds go in travel and us Full of promise through the years of passenger transportation Plenty of history information The Greyhound Bus was once a Fortune 500 known as the Greyhound Corporation Precision...

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I often write in anger, I write when I am hurting. So many poems are focused around the word "you". I hate it. I hate how full of anger for you I am, Especially when I am also full of love. I love that you heard me say Spirited Away was one of my favorite movies, And so...

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If I refuse to die—what can death do? It waits beyond the orchard gate, While lilacs lean with scent and hue And robins sing of love and fate. I’ve knelt in grasses starred with dew, Heard twilight’s hush in tender trees, My breath was shaped by skies of blue, My thoughts by wind and dreaming seas. Death may come with its quiet tread, A...

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Do you know about Jesus? Grandma asked the little one Oh, yes, he’s a bunny, he arrives with the sun. He brings colorful candied eggs, and he follows us to church too. She could see he was confused, but what could she do? It’s difficult to unlearn something that has been learned this way. She decided not to worry about...

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Enough with the whispers about kindness when the shadows of night ask you to embrace your own gentleness, Enough with the tales of love until your heart becomes the source from which authentic love flows, Enough with praising success until your journey becomes an obsession of self-discovery, Enough with stories of power until you bleed in silence and...

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Insurance took my therapy away Can't cross a busy street without help Have severe post-traumatic stress All I can do right now is write Struggle to sleep at night I feel so lonely No one to trust Low income People Starve ...

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If no one seems to give a hoot about a poem you've written, try reading it out loud to your dog or to your kitten. And if, as you read it to them, all the while, you see their tails wag and their faces smile, writing the poem was worthwhile ~ at least ~ from where they're sittin'. ...

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The Bible is said to be the Word of God - a belief that many people regard with awe. But I have several questions that I need to ask. First, do I need to ask forgiveness for taking God to task? I have no desire to offend anyone or say anything unsavory, but is it the Word of God that...

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Luxury is all about choices Wear a torn jeans or buy a new one Throw away pie and order sushi Or try to bake the pie again Watch movie alone or hungout with friends Search for a new job or revise your goal in life. Luxury life is living your own terms Keep walking towards your goals Don't look for alibis Don't get comfortable Don't...

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In about a week, I'm gonna go see my maker, an old Italian guy, who left me with my present caretaker. I need to go see him about my nose, because the damn thing just grows and grows. My caretaker says it's because I lie, but I don't know how seriously to take her. ...

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To mortal minds, there is no way that what took place on that dark day when someone good in every way, was crucified by hands of clay could be thought good in any way. God’s works are good in every way was echoed each creation day. Man formed from clay on the sixth day was very good in every way yes, this is...

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Paradox In the telling of A story may Transform the story.. A map Is not separate From the territory.. It can and cannot Be a guide... The territory Cannot be mapped But maps Nevertheless Appear to serve A story's need For a move to Chicago... Separation and mapping Are not two.....

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