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Ode Inspiration Poems | Ode Poems About Inspiration

These Ode Inspiration poems are examples of Ode poems about Inspiration. These are the best examples of Ode Inspiration poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse |

An Ode to Ezra Pound - musical accompaniment performed by audio-visual hallucinations

Through past/present/future, the Imagist Express still clatters,
bending time, space, and everything else that truly matters.

The eclectic, mingled aroma
of Turkish coffee, French onion soup,
and spicy Kinpira Gobo,
wafts from the kitchen,
stinging the ornamental eyes
carved into the lounge car's ceiling.

A draft clears the air—
squinted eyes become wide-angle lenses;
pupils melt like hot candle wax,
dripping onto toes that are tapping
to the rhythmic beat of iron bones 
spinning 'round below.

Barely—just barely,
the passengers feel the engine's migratory yearning
as the conductor switches the tracks of thought,
so mesmerized they are
by their reflections in the windows:
pale faces dangling from a moistened, black bough.
The strange, intoxicating fruit


amongst the smudges of fingerprints,
their spirals, bending time, space,
and everything else that truly matters.

Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2010

Details | Ode |

Just a Girl

Just a girl in a room, sitting on the floor,
I can see her in this window, but I see no door
Crying her song of anguish, of this unspeakable pain,
Has every intention never to feel it again
I rock, I tremble, my life is at cost
All I know is this shell, for it's myself...my core...my all I have lost

From the start I new this fight could only last so long,
I aimed to defeat it, striving to remain strong
Each day in and day out, facing the demon, fighting the doubt
At a moment with no warning, without any clue
I was losing my strength...my energy...all the will I once knew

For now, my all is lost, my memories are faint,
There is no pretty picture left for me to paint
This girl on the floor, in this empty room
Was this girl condemned for a life of doom

My tears disappeared, like they'd never been there
Dried up with my soul, the time is clear
Wanting to shake her, make her open her eyes
To show some hope, the blue is still in the skies

Then, out of nowhere, I found the door
I wanted to save the girl on the floor
As I neared and inched to her close
She wasn't that girl, what I saw was a ghost

As I turned to walk out, stopped by a noise
I heard the laughter of girls and of boys
With that came a voice of peace and of grace
She told me, she's happy, no-more demon for her to face

I am calmed, I'm reassured, I'm no longer in pain
She was the broken me, but now I am strong again

Copyright © Katee Surface | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ode |

My Tribute to The Silent One

I will never quite grasp the depth of your love and care, For those around you, and for the world and its constant suffering You understand more than you express, You express more than I can understand… Your sweet and playful spirit leaves an impact on my life and heart, Uplifting me when I need it most…how can I thank you? And your meaningful, romantic side, Your poetry is priceless! You care about the deep, sad and unusual, Admiring the sentiments of darkness and light alike, Inspired by the world around you, your canvas is infinitely painted in detail Revealing colors that bring relief to the eyes Despite the unimaginable hardships you have faced, And of the trials and tests of the present and unknown future, You remain resilient, good-natured and strong, Never letting anything break you, No matter how many demons swarm your beautiful garden of words, No matter the careless and unkind words from the ignorant and afflicted, The conflicted and the constricted… You are aware of the sensitivity of each opposition, Easily seeing past the nailing and jabs aiming for your mind and heart, And you humble me with your meek approach of poetry You must write when inspiration touches truth Not to mention, when sick abuse yearns for justice, You grab the evil source by the throat and shame him! Even when wounded, when the voice can no longer speak, When the tongue is bit for the better of all, When emotions plea for more consistency, You speak the loudest to me You are The Silent One And you mean ever so much to me!
My Tribute to the gifted and resilient Silent One

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode |


I owe so much to you 
When you pulled at me,
Tugged me from my toiling, 
When I was crouched low,
In the kitchen, blurry choke of tears 
I saw the outline of your peninsula 
Etched in florescent blue in my mind
A little red star on a map 
Such a hard drive (for me and the Ford) 
But I, swept into the arms of that gentle house, 
Saw a clearing in the nettles, one that I could pass through
And those turned to violets that kissed me as I was waking up 
And going to bed, listening to the healing black wind 
Through the many cracked windows 
Presque Isle with her flags and sea glass 
The promise of going to Canada 
Turning my head to look at the lake, that dark lake
Itself enigmatic- a sea but not a sea 
I think about that, brush the snowy sand from my palms 
Yes, in a way,
That could be me 

Copyright © Jeremy Martin | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ode |

Dispite It All, We Still Sail On

Despite It All…We Still Sail Onward
(Apropos Again)

Why have we chosen to wallow?
Despair.  Listen to the ancestors.
They did more with less; we have more.
Fool!  We have boots with straps!
Be aware of where they came!

Be not deceived and succumbed.
Be not a victim of self defeat.
Catch a tear and wash it back.
Crystal stairways always shatter.
Remember the Ancestors who had less.
Ye of little faith, know that the faith
Of the ancestors weigh heavily on the arch
Forever bending against the straight anvil
Of nullification and dissimulations; 
Curving and bending to waiting justice.

Survival surrenders nothing to defeat.
Liberation is not given; but fought and won.
Tears and grief win not battles; neither does despair.
Audacious faith and flames of hope and redemption
Burn and desolate all fears of defeat and delusions.

Despite the roaring sea ahead, we sail onward.
Despite the holes in our sails, we sail onward.
Despite the waning winds, we sail onward.
Despite the empty belly of hell, we sail onward.
Despite challenging vicissitudes we sail onward.

Copyright © millard lowe | Year Posted 2016

Details | Couplet |


Have you ever wondered to yourself
   "Have I gone stale, am I back on the shelf"?

    I have been to that writer's own lonely place
         Where words seldom come or only give you a trace.

               Then some contest will come along and let me see
                       A few words that I can use to help set my spirit free.

                           Not words that I would have thought on my own
                                But one of my heroes, whose work is here often shown.

                                     She will give me a boost when I feel my work is poor
                                          They do the trick, because I am suddenly sure.

                                          Perhaps you have felt it because they are driven
                                     By a poet whose comments are most honestly given.

                                 Her words to me often give me a peaceful calm
                            That act on my soul like a most soothing balm.

                        She is one of the first to have welcomed me here
                   I am very grateful that I was included in her sphere.

              She has helped to give my words a strength and fight
         Especially when she knew that they needed to come to light.

     I put her in my heroes and told her that perhaps one day
I would write something for her when I could think of the words to say.

            This is a poor effort and lacks what her words to me mean, but alas
            It is my ODE TO CAYCAY...for that day has finally come to pass.
            They are not of the quality I would like to have written
            But these words came to me today as if I were smitten.

            My saying "Thank you" does not do her any justice at all
            Right now, they are the only ones that I can recall.

            So let me say them in this, in my own meager way

Copyright © Dan Cwiak | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ode |

Because They Play the Game

Dedicated to every young man bestowed the honor of wearing 
the glorious Oklahoma Sooners' Crimson & Cream 


Over sixty years, boy and man, I have been a Sooners fan;
And always hoped to be among the truest in the stands.
And while I don’t remember all the Players’ names,
They’re my Heroes, each and every one, because they play the game.
When they’re on the field of battle, my Sooners surely give their all;
And when they’re on the sidelines, just waiting for a Coach’s call;
Visions of Glory must be dancing in their heads;
The Glory of the moment and our cheers, the Glory of playing for
   the mighty Big Red.

And for those Sooners who rarely played, whose names were 
   known only by a few,
Make no mistake my friend, each of them is my Hero too.
Like Soldiers waiting in the ranks, but never called to fight,
They ‘re ready and they’re willing, their spirit and their sacrifice
   add to Big Red’s might.

I stand in awe of Sooner Magic.  No, I never doubt it.
My Sooners could have never won so many Championships without it.
But don’t misunderstand when I say Sooner Magic won those games;
It was Sooners players who, once again, rose to the occasion and
   glorified the name.

Sixty years of college football and my Sooners have won the most.
Their fierce pride and performance inspire this simple toast:
“My Sooners Team goes on and on, different faces, different names;
But my Heroes, Each and Every one, for win or lose…
                                 They play the game.

Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ode |

Ode To Marriage

Can I have this hand in marriage dear,
Can you grace me with "I do",
Let the angels sing to Heaven,
Let my heart soar with their tune.
Let us seal our love for we two,
Let no others interfere,
Let Evil, with his one good eye,
Attempt to trick and snare.
Let Age pass on his cares to us,
For bound, we are as one,
We'll ride the heady winds of joy,
Until another song is sung.
Until another song is sung, my love;
We'll drink the drink of fools;
Let passion be our compass,
And a blinding trust our rule.
Let us plant the seeds of new life,
That through Time will resonate,
Let our names be always dear to those,
Who we'll set then on their fate.

Copyright © Emmanuel Paul | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

Ode To Miss Charlotte

Ode to Miss Charlotte

I read about some verbal wars
That brew among some poets.
It’s fought between the ‘know-it-alls’
And those who just don’t know it.

I came upon your essay
On this sacred hallowed site
And after reading what you said
I am convinced you’re right.

Man, in his poetry must apply
 Some elementary rules
Lest those who seek our legacy
Will think we all were fools.

Who makes the rules by which we write
May always tease our minds
But poets’ hearts will always be
The source of all we leave behind.

Haikus are a special breed
But we’ve known all along
That Japanese write differently
Yet sing their haunting songs.

So, let life stand and judge me 
As I travel the poets’ road
While I’ve not only butchered haikus,
I have devastated odes.

Author’s note: Listed below are some of my posts that will clarify some confusion.. Jake
On Raisin’ Haikus, Haiku Hell, Haiku Shoppe, Haiku Town Dog, Haikuville, Haiku Hash, Haiku Omelet (1 and 2), Haiku Hound

Written by: John Posey 10/05/13
Inspired by: Haiku Fanatics, a poem by Charlotte Puddifoot

Copyright © John Posey | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ode |


Tomorrow is a mystery,
future isn't sure.
Tomorrow is killing me,
victory isn't pure.

I've  got so much to give
but don't know what I would get.
Tomorrow has got me pensive,
tomorrow's pregnancy is a threat.

Will tomorrow be bright?
as I sleep and say goodnight?
Will tomorrow shine?
Will it be just fine?

Life is a crazy ride
but still make it a pride.
Live for today and hope for tomorrow
and hopefully meet a day to follow.

*Sammy Kyle*

Copyright © adedayo samuel | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode |

An Ode to the Bee

The echo of Winter will never eclipse
The gentle breeze carrying Spring, 
Or birds overhead, with their eyes well affixed
On the future for marvelous things. 

The sedulous bees bringing life to the Earth, 
While they buzz and wash over each section.
The warriors of progress, unknowing their worth,
Wielding only a sting for protection.

The tiny striped martyrs then bravely depart
From the plant, at some length, to the swarm.
The nectar collected, their personal art.
The hive waiting, welcome and warm.

To witness this magic in calm disbelief, 
Is a treasure, a blessing to see.
The simple, whole truth is, from mountain to reef, 
All life here would cease without bees.

Copyright © Amanda Pence | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ode |

In Reverence To The One Up There

How did we acquire the knowledge of getting food following all protocols and procedures of knowing when the Earth is in a fine mood to give a handshake of bountiful harvest? In search of knowledge and understanding man has explored Nature, down to its hood and due to his short comings, treated humanity unfairly and rude. Knowing the mechanics of an existing phenomenon makes one a happy and creative dude but having no idea how it even existed makes his understanding still bare and nude Under a higher authority, we’re all nursed be it a gentleman with the fine name-Jude or matter in a non-stop pause having no artery of sustenance like the wood Life and existence, wisdom and health, He’s the source Him- not even the microscopes can elude He is existing, everlasting and much more than a force He is no other than God and He is good.

Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ode |

King Fish Of The Sea

                                                               < <<<<<<<>
                                                             < <<<<<<<<<>
                                               Of the sea <<<<<<<<<<<< >\
                                     Master                                                 \
                               Fish                                                              \
                        / King                                                                     \                   {  
                     / In charge of shoals various sizes of fish.                       \                {{
                  / Tiny ones darting in and out amongst seaweeds and rocks. \           {{{{
               /  Fins propelling through the water,                                       \   {{{{{{{{
             /  Gills rhythmically moving, extracting oxygen as the gill flaps    \{{{{{{{{{
         €£££       @      open and shut.                                                   \\{{{{{{{{{
             /                                        /\\\||\\\\||||<<                           \\{{{{{{{{{{
              /                                   ||<<<<<<<<<<
                \                                    \\\\\\\\||||||<<                            \\{{{{{{{{{{
                         \\\\ Mouth opening, swallowing fresh or salty water,\\\\\\\\\{{{{{{{
                           \\\\Depending on which sea you are in.             \               {{{{{{
                                 O King                                                     \                    {{{{
                                          Fish,                                              \                        {{
                                               I could                                    \                             {
                                                        Watch your antics          \
                                                                                 all day!

Copyright © Rainbow Promise | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ode |

Ode to My Hills

Driving home, the sun beaming down
highlighting the Quantock foothills
a criss-cross quilt of very small fields
too steep for mechanical ploughs
worked still by man and shire horses

Bright gleaming yellow rape and mustard
interwoven with shades of brilliant green
a paradise for birds nesting in the hedges
tiny dots of white sheep scattered round
deep scarlet red of the fields laid to fallow

Ancient hills stun with captivating beauty
hardwood trees hundreds of years old
spread their sheltering branches wide
casting fat and long shadows ''neath their feet
grassy banks giving shelter to small animals

I gaze with delight filling up my soul
loving the fact these are my hills
that roll  and soar around my village
with magical names for each hill
some very bare others full of heather

Reminding me of my native home
Will's Neck and Cothelstone
rearing up above the deep valleys
with nestling lakes and rivers
this place my place till I pass on

these hills were the first place in England to be given the title of outstanding beauty 
1956 check them out in Wikipedia for these amazing views

Copyright © Shadow Hamilton | Year Posted 2014

Details | Tanka |

Ode to Ellen

You’re my symphony
the blood that runs through my veins,
ageless and timeless
like the metamorphic Rose
you came to dwell in my life!

© Harry J Horsman 2013  

Copyright © harry horsman | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ode |


scattered in abundance of dissapointments
births demons to our lives.
A happiness we cannot give 
but want so much in return at times.
The last leaf of autumn
Is not without redemption.
But a subtle invitation.
A process of perfection.
It does not live a lie.
Wounded warriors 
today embrace uncertainty! 
The soul cannot be decimated.
Nor is there a tragedy
that goes uncompensated.
Dont settle for what you want to hear..
The truth is in you.
And it is so much more beautiful.

Copyright © Mario Oviedo | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ode |

Good Leading's Root

Becoming a leader is your way,
You want to be applaused and hailed
And within you hope swims,
But you never ask yourself why.
Why I yawn to be the head?
Do I possess what it takes
To be a great head,
That head the people's right?
Void of rustic concern, crispy craving;
Craving for only one's own belly filled,
Wrapped you with the veil of wants.
Neglecting good name processing.

Elapsed days may fall upon present
As huge icicles or snows,
Asking of err of old-days
Like an interrogative person and suspect.
What one reaps, one sows;
Good name forever survives.

A servant severs, not serves and loot,
In serving the people's will, he endures pain
And never he steps on one-else-shoe.
Good will, good leading's root.

Copyright © Afolabi Muideen | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ode |


I am a man who breathes A man who believes In the whispering of trees And in the buzzing of bees Sailing across these oceans seas The wind in the words to receive As I listen to the breeze This is what I perceive The light itself It exist within its self Sitting upon a book shelf These words sting to health The cry for land and its wealth Look what you’ve done to yourself Look what we’ve done to our self Living, I explain myself Even though it may sound quite looney As I look up at the full moony The hooting of an owl does do sound groovy Staring at this ruby A magnificent treasure not just a bootie Yea, she has such a nice round smoothie Dare I even to say, that indeed it is magnificently beautiful cutie Darling be my Lucy

Copyright © Steven Henderson | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |

An Ode to LIFE Part 1

An Ode To LIFE

As I lay my head down and start to fall asleep I see myself being carried off to a place and time the place of our Lords birth in Bethlehem of Judea

As in the Bible tells the story of His life and how he lived and died in that human seance and rose on the day He told of

I do not remember being here but I remember the story I was taught so many years ago

As I walk through the streets of Bethlehem I see each scene  and hear  every word as I am learning the story they telling is true

The writer writes of a jealous King  and his way of dealing with his people and of Mary and Joseph who came to Bethlehem to have a child

The story tells of the three wise men  who saw a star in the north and heard of a child  who was born to be the King of the Jews  and come to see and bring Him gifts 

An  angel from the Heavens above came to Mary and Joseph in a dream and told them they had to leave Bethlehem or King Herod would have their son killed 

So they left Bethlehem and went to Egypt and there they lived until King Herod no longer ruled

As I follow along in my dream I see each scene  and hear  every word as I am puzzled by the fact I understand each

I don’t understand why I’m going through this time but I know I must continue on this journey 

As I am pulling through a time where I reach the place of Jesus’ in  Nazareth of Galilee

As I watched Him grow and work in His father's shop I could see the thing in Him that were with me

As I walk along the streets and look around I hear the people talk of a child that speaks of wondrous love that’s all forgiving and of a Father in Heaven that’s loving and true.

By Rev. Samuel Mack, OMS
Copyright 2013

                                                            Inspired by God 


Copyright © Rev. Dr. Samuel Mack OMS DD | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ode |

Ode to Soup Poets

Have you ever been moved by beauty?
stood and listened to the birds sing?
been transfixed by the sight of deer?

Watched the eagles soaring the thermals?
gazed on the beauty of a woodland lake?
or sat by a ring of fairy mushrooms?

Just as nature herself enthralls us
so too do the written words of poets
I find my self transfixed by them

As their words weave their magic
no matter if in verse or rhyme 
flights of fantasy are inspired

Bless you all poets for your gift
it is the magic, the fix that inspires
as you part with your precious words

Copyright © Shadow Hamilton | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ode |


Here is to you crazy fellas 
Those who are covenanted to the religion of distinctiveness 
And heralds of unique unthinkable patterns

Here is a salute to you
Those, who against the popular opinion and trend, stick to their principles and confession      
Thus cementing their loyalty and guaranteed blessings          

Here is a tribute to you
Those, who go against traditions in a bid to creating new arts and unconditional techniques         
Thus cementing their status as dynamic civilization heralds          

Here is to the dogged ones
Those who despite numerous failures, get back up and try for one more time
Thus embedding their names in the scrolls of the victorious                                                                                  

Here is a much needed recognition 
Those, behind the scenes who humbly strive to attain victory, (which most people ascribe to another)                              
Thus laying favorable foundations, upon which their launching forth would be smooth sailing

Here are much needed encouragement

Persistently persist in your beliefs, 
For in them you shall be celebrated

Give no cognisance whatsoever to people around, Who continually discourage you for they are spectators who must cheer for you when you make it

Love yourself much, 
For you will certainly not feel the love around your environs

Love God best, 
For only He can give you the strength to achieve all your heart desires. 

Copyright © Nkwuka Kosi | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ode |



Blow you westward wind, blow betide,
Blow upon the western sphere, blow a gale
Rout the shacks on the range, the ‘scrapper  a tremor;
Let wail the pine boulevard and the Indian stream screams,
Blow, the palm to bow, and matters to float on air;
And blow, by thy whim to sway the lives of men.

Whence, thou coming from and where, shall thou end
‘Less we come to thy base and offer sacrifices
To restrain thee and make thee honour our will.
Why be not visible, that thou be invincible?
Except thy howling echoed by plants and apparatus,
Like from a funnel, the emptiness of a hollow nothing.

Whirl then and Blow through the hemisphere,
Where the dreams of men pitch a watery globe;
Blow, blow down the poles, the outer space
Till they evaporates on the thin windy air
That man may lose control of them
And be swayed by life to where thou would blow.

Copyright © ITSOGHOLE O SOLOMON | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ode |

Jack Ellison

"If life seems jolly rotten
There's something you've forgotten
And that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing!" 
-Always Look On the Bright Side of Life by Eric Idle, from Monty Python

Words that come to mind when I think of this incredible man— Kind, hilarious, loving, humble, silly, cute, utterly inspiring and true, He makes everyone’s day no matter how gloomy or blue! I admit, I fall hard into the pessimist’s pity potty, Sometimes just struggling at the surface of many hot tears, But this guy, he gently cleans the filth I accumulate with his words, And with vivid colors only his strength can conjure, He sketches a perfect rainbow on my hefty clouds on high It is difficult to fathom how inspired I am by this remarkable poet He is human like the rest of us, of course, but my, He is as immortal to me as mortal can get He will live forever in my heart with his golden words, His sweet smile and his priceless, unfussy rhymes Truly he deserves all the happiness in the world… My heart goes out to you, Jack Ellison My beloved poet, always, and forever Your friendship means the world to me, And you will not be leaving this heart, Not ever, ever!!!

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015

Details | I do not know? |

An Ode to Walt: For Mickey on His 87th Birthday

Out of the mouse hole of my childhood,
made your first impression
on this sprouting brain,
enticed by the endless wonder
and entranced by the majestic splendor
of your colored two dimensional tales
that filled this void of a heart,
endings carved out 
of the most intricate dreams;
splendid beauty never gazed once upon before.

                      just a friendly, peppy mouse
                            frolicking jubilantly,
                                    ready to befriend this winsome psyche. 

A Wonderful World indeed,
embedding wishes upon stars
before these fabled eyes,
dreaming of a happier place
painting unbreakable magic over toil,
longing to rid my existence
of the clouded nightmares, 
far greater than Bald Mountain,
fantastic follies were never met with such welcome.

                   zip a dee dooh dahs
                              echo softly,
                                    fostered child delivered a glossy, coated package.

A faint princess and her seven miniature men,
a puppet who ached to be a real boy,
fairy godmothers, Never Never land,
fantasmic fantasias,
one Walt's waltz of fancy
and a spirited little mermaid;
all spellbinding stories that leaped
in this impressionable spirit,
like a bouncing tiger pouncing
on a silly ole' bear;
giving weight to my blossoming imagination
and giving this adolescent emerging hope.

         wishes upon stars
                    burn blazing,
                        giving this burdened soul whimsical optimism.

Back into the mouse hole
thirty five years young,
fireworks dazzle this now grown orphan
able to visit these fantasy destinations
and embed these heroic tales
on new impressionable egos,
never loosing the impeccable power
and growing in this vessel of flesh
like thorns over a guarded castle,
never escaping,
never fleeting,
burning brighter than mystical candlelight;
fiction and life joined in the humanity.

         Be My Guest
                   chants gingerly,
                               all from the magic of one mouse.

Copyright © Mike Hufford | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

Ode To Humanity

If I could turn back time- I wouldn't. Though I've done some things in my life I knew i shouldn't, I have grown stronger- Comprehending things and helping people, I previously couldn't. Being in the place I currently find myself, I live with no regret. Because holding onto the past only hastens my death.

 I will die one day- be it soon or distant. But i know I will elevate to a higher Plane of existence. I will leave this world behind with a clean conscience; for the burden of pain in your heart is exhausted. I will move on from the mistakes of my past. I will help others mend their wounds When they find themselves coming in last. My goals, forever in mind, are many in number- But my greatest goal is to better our kind and eradicate hunger. Humanity is my love- so deeply I know this. I mustn't look above- but within those who are soulless 

Sometimes i will get burned- It's happened before- but there's no lesson learned, for i am pure to the core. if I give up on our entire human race- Result of a handful of dishonest fakes- I'd find myself falling back into my previous careless state; That I struggled so hard to escape. 

So, open your arms wide- Letting go of the mistakes you so hide. See the beauty within humanity- Help yourself- and others- Learn to set ourselves free- To be all that we can- and should be. Maybe in time, we can all believe That it is indeed possible, To live with glee- Abound in such peace and harmony. 

This is my wish- My most reoccurring dream. I yearn to make a difference; HOW MANY OF YOU ARE WITH ME?

Copyright © Damien Schrecengost | Year Posted 2017

Details | Ode |


                          The waters rise as the tears we cry,
                         our hopes and dreams all float away,
                      as we bow are heads for mercy we pray..

                      Courage is asked of the smallest a child,
                  No reprieve is given as natures fury runs wild..

           It's been two days of waiting on my roof as I feel it sway.
            I think my lack of water helps me dream the time away..
        Who would be there to weep for me who would be left to cry.
   If the water rises three more feet , who would hear my last goodbye ..

                  Too little too late the help just isn't there.
         My question to our leaders , for us poor do they not care..
               But the American public wouldn't stand for it ,
                       to see their own in such a way.. 
                  The ones who could took in strangers ,
                     the strong in faith began to pray..
       They say tragedy brings out the best and worst in man,
                     and I've seen my share of both..
                But the one thing I'll always remember,
                  and the one we can all surely boast .
        Is the way the American people came to our aid,
                    when we needed you the most..

                            I was poor before ,
                          I have nothing now,
                    like a clock ticks life goes on..
                    Someday I will return to you.
                            The Big Easy
                             so far gone..

Copyright © Glen Schwartz | Year Posted 2017

Details | Ode |

The New Jeanne d'Ark

France is torn by rigged election, fear and despair,
Corrupt politicians quarrel over posts in the dark.
When clear and tranquil, through the troubled air
Of selfish minds and wills that do not dare,
Your brightly shining star arose, Marine Le Pen!

You raised the proud flag with lilies white,
The other sun-burned hand bore the lance,
You inspired the will that helps men to unite,
You brought the courage equal to the fight,
You gave heart to a badly divided France!

You will be crowned, your country will be free,
One day soon you will have your soul's desire!
But right now, greedy French politicians and
Their Anglo-Saxon bankers gave your victory
The martyr's crown of fire, Marine Le Pen!

And now again the times are scary and ill,
And money-grubbing leaders miss the mark;
The people lack the single faith and will
To make them one—France needs you still:
Come back once again, Marine Le Pen!

O woman-star, in your armor arise once more
And shine to lead your country's advance:
The old heroic pride in Gaul restore,
Renew the brave, unselfish hopes of yore,
And give heart to France, Marine Le Pen!

Copyright © Ross Vassilev | Year Posted 2017

Details | Elegy |


The land of Zaatar, Zaytoon
and Lime
The land of progressive and loving people
 at her core.
The British Empire promised the rocky terrain
(From which the Empire yielded no fruit
 Nor money!)
 To displaced people:  The Jews;
The Jews called her
The promised land:
The land promised to them.
For at the heart of her is Jerusalem:
The town holy to both Mohamedians
And the Jews:
the loving cousins they were once.
Became a country of division, feuds!
A country of Bloodsheds
The country of bitter tears shed.
The land of people confined in unsanitary camps
Surviving on the margins: 
Their minds becoming unsound;
Slowly !
 Day by day!
Like a blood tap turning into a blood sea.
The land of diseases, 
The land of infant deaths
In sea of numbers
The land of famished folks,
The land of murky waters and no hopes.
 Where the bitter seed of hopelessness
Is sown;
Turning into a thorny tree;
Bearing blood fruits!
The land of forgotten people,
The land of  bitter feuds !
Palestine :
The land of peoples’ pleas
Unheard,  unseen!
The land of peoples’ suffering
Unregistered in our collective psyches

Copyright © YASEMIN BALANDI | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ode |

A Land Of Hopes

The rains have washed the air, 
The landscape glows in a soothing summer green 
The scarlet blooming flowers have leaned towards the sunlight
I turn and see pairs of beetles tinging white petals in a mating fashion
And the emptiness of my heart is filled with nature's muse.

The boughs seek the next wind and rustle a new song,
I seat under this waving shade
And sing a poem by a better man than me,
Of a world that has a soul.
There is so much to feel in this life
I have spent my years learning what and what not to feel.
I don't question why it has taken so long to come here.
This is where fate sends me, a land of hopes for tomorrow.


Copyright © Kunda Chamatete | Year Posted 2017

Details | Ode |

The Sound of My Heart

The ocean is so far away,
I’m in the water but I’m feeling closer at home to bay,
I sigh and pout in dismay,
The life inside of me has began to decay,
And no one can fix it no matter what they try to say.

What is that noise I hear in the distance?

It’s people telling me that they love me and care about me,
They don’t want me to leave,
Yet I’ve been traumatized from wearing my heart on my sleeve,
And here and there I’m granted bits of relief,
But just as every other person I’ve too experienced grief.

I felt this way a few months ago and here and there I’ll begin to feel it again,
It’s as if I have to keep reliving this tragic, unbearable sin,
It’s like a heartbreak times ten.

When I begin to feel this way I try to think of it as just another bad day,
Yet I’m still in the water and feeling closer to bay,
Unfortunately the ocean is still so far away.

Copyright © Kre8tive Kae | Year Posted 2016