Age Freedom Poems | Age Poems About Freedom

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Details | Free verse |


Strolling around town 
At prohibited time 
Ignoring the church bell sounds
While I see people hurrying 
Down the sidewalk
On their way to work 

Think maybe I'll find 
Pen and paper
And have a coffee somewhere 

Or maybe not

Copyright © Steinar Gismeroy Olafsen | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ode |

Ode to Tai-Ana at Age Ten and Far Away


Oh, gentle child, how doth my heart still burn
thine absence half a decade spent in vain
to break the bonds that tie, that fett’ring chain
that holds me from embracing  thee, thyself  in turn.

Thine all enchanting smile, piercing eyes–
thy flailing arms, the limbs, with rhythmic stroke – 
responses soundless to the silent words I spoke
to thee before from thee Fate forced me from thy cries.

I watched thee grow through temp’rate times of yore – 
remembering the gall’ry of my mind.

‘Twas all I had.

Oh, gentle child, how doth my heart still ache
thy presence all too far in distant land
where careless arms push thee with calloused hand
away from mine where once I swore thee none could take.

Thine eyes with tears I shared I shed alone
so thou might never feel the agony
the anguish, loss of my identity,
thy father, thee my offspring, daughter, dearest one.

I watched thee grow through chilling times, and more – 
remembering thy portrait in my mind.

‘Twas all I had.

.			3

Oh, gentle child, how doth my soul yet yearn
those many hours oft upon my breast
thy head thou laid safe harbor for thy rest,
thy questions,  mind alert, thy hungering to learn.

Thy voice I hear through dreams and zephyr breeze,
thou lark by morn by eve the nightingale,
as Dawn and Dusk, Aurora without fail,
thou hast my heart and soul kept warm with ease.

I watch thee grow, and will,  forever more – 
remembering thy sculpture in my mind.

‘Tis all I have.


Until we are as one renewed
some future date somewhere awaits
when thou her servant dare to flee 
that which with thee so long accrued
where here I love and there she hates
that wily witch who bindeth thee. 

Break loose those  prison bars that bind
thy tired wings that flap in vain – 
Renew thy pledge at length to find
thy youthful freedom once again.
Then shalt thy flags fly high aloft
while eagles scream thy freedom song,
while robins chirp with redbreast, soft – 
all a capella – pure and long.

Then both our souls shall share their peace,
a father and his daughter, found
to spend their lives on borrowed lease
to live and die on hallowed ground.

Thus, take, Tai-Ana, this, my prayer
that fathers and their children hear
of this solemnity
that children here and everywhere
ne’er shed a sad though soulful tear
for all eternity.


Copyright © Lorenz Lynn | Year Posted 2007

Details | Rhyme |

Thank you

Thank you – Zamreen Zarook

Thank you is a sweet word in the nature,
You may be a guy of adventure,
May be you are a person of agriculture,
What matters is your architecture.

Never forget the people, who guided you,
In no degree neglect who were with you,
Don’t ever overlook a creature, who gave a smile to you,
Because, you will meet them above you.

People forget the past due to selfishness,
They have no time to remember their unawareness,
Society, most of the times behave in awfulness,
They will understand when their lives come in to bitterness.

Be a person to thank and remember,
Don’t consider them as December,
Because, you might need them in November,
So, always be as a good subscriber.

Copyright © Zamreen Zarook | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

Eyes of Seminary

Eyes of Seminary – Zamreen Zarook

Every day in our lives has different fragrance,
God give us various things in abundance,
Day by day knowledge is gained in accordance,
Things depend according to the attendance.

Two years of studies,
Helped us to come out with various abilities,
Extremely joyful moments with buddies,
But life said every aspect has its boundaries.

Teachers become very friendly,
They approach us very kindly,
They speak on us exaggeratedly,
Because they know, if not we might behave badly.

Big shots in the school boundary,
These are years of foundry,
It helped us to find and go for laundry,
Marvelous days, fully packed with sundry.

Various angles the kith and kins are civilized,
It’s because our knowledge is enhanced,
Guys and girls turned well experienced,
That’s why we call it levels of advanced.

Copyright © Zamreen Zarook | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

Just Be

Sometimes I admire the littlest things
A simple rock. A blade of grass. 
They need no future goals, no tax exemptions
They don’t need to go anywhere or be anything
They just are. 

Sometimes, especially when I’m reading life insurance policies,
I envy the rocks and the grass
And try to be like them for a moment. 
I sit perfectly still and give myself to the wind-
And it whispers in my ear:
Just be.
And for that moment I don’t need to go anywhere or be anything.
And at the snap of my fingers, 
All the complex widgets and gizmos that make up my life
Fold into paper airplanes and fly off in the wind.

Jacob Reinhardt

Copyright © Jacob Reinhardt | Year Posted 2013

Details | Carpe Diem |


Broken,beaten,blind and lost
All but a spark of hope left to keep warm
But dig and claw on bruised muscles, on broken limbs
Until the light day fills your sight
Left blinded no more
Until the soft fresh air blows the spark to a flame and ignites your will
Until the ground beneath is solid enough to stand
Walk,until the pain is mastered and stumbling ceases.
And you can say:
This will not be my grave.

Copyright © Gillian Brown | Year Posted 2013

Details | Personification |

dream catcher

Blooming before us, like dandelions sprouting in the spring.
Rising above and beyond, invisible during the day,
  Guardians at night.

Dangling up high as if it were puppets.
So close, mountains could give a kiss away.
The Stars dance and wiggle, as if putting on a play.
Clouds form a dark, grey, thunderstorm,
Clapping and roaring vividly, like an applause.
The wind glides along in appraise.
The moon shivers and squirms, it smiles upon the stars.

A shooting star evolves, 
Leaving a trail of the dreams that sparkle in the dust.
Feeling pure joy, the
Moon erupts into a wall of tears. 
Water breaks the bond of the dreams attached to the star,
It slowly sinks down into the homes, in the rooms, 
Into the minds, of the beholder.

 It has now lost its dreams.
The sun is rising, and the star at once must become invisible,
It now must start over and watch from above like a hawk.
It now must watch the lives of everyday people,
And become one with the beholder.
It now must take dreams and guard them with its life.
It now must take on its duty as a Dream-Catcher.

Copyright © Angel classified | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |

Who Am I

A new photograph floats to the surface
Playfully dressing up as the world around me
Hat, striped socks and all
Tiptoeing at the top for one last sweet moment 
Before sinking back into my ocean mind.

One after another they arrive
Single file,
Steeping my eyes in the world 
As the minds shutter, ever fluttering 
Strings together this conscious stream I play in.

My photographs fade in time’s wrinkled arms.
Joining their brothers and sisters at the ocean floor,
They hold hands and try to answer the question that is always asking itself:
Who am I?

Jacob Reinhardt

Copyright © Jacob Reinhardt | Year Posted 2013

Details | ABC |


You send bolts through my skin 
something I was never to 
accomplish with you, when I 
saw you it's like my heart sank 
to my stomach and I was in 
shock my body still my body 
heavy felt like when I moved I 
was about to fall to my knees 
you make me want to get 
inside my brain pick you up and 
take you out pick you one by 
one like a flower because I do 
love you and love you not.

Copyright © brittney lopez | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

Reflections of Love

To live is to Learn. To learn is to grow up. But at our elderly Age that doesn't mean much.... AAAhhh... The choices and freedoms that age does bring... They open the world of childhood again. This childhood is filled with fantasy and such… Including Dragons, and Trolls alive to the touch. I wish, I wish, you could see them with me. We could laugh at their antics, together you see. To live is to Learn. To learn is to grow up. But as my body grows old, my mind’s still young. My husband and I are like the two parts of the moon. He comes from the light side to pull me there, too. His reflections of love keep me there, each day. To live is to Learn. To learn is to grow up. But never stop smiling, along the way. It’s your reflection of love that’s given to the world, each day. It makes everything brighter, and everything OK. To live is to Learn. To learn is to grow up. To learn is to find how to give your own reflections of love.
For contest: Reflections of Love

Copyright © Carol Eastman | Year Posted 2013

Details | Concrete |


A poem wrote by me, based on Person who is a deserving icon but still struggling hard with his career life and addressed as disturbed creature.

DISTURBED CREATURE--> Am I ??       BY Mrs.Madhavi Suyog Pagare

Am I so insane, Am I so mad,
Dramatic mood of mine is so die hard.
Destroyed my peace, Shattering my dreams,
People call me as disturbed creature.
As like mounting the pain, attenuating the drain!!

Digesting my feelings lying inside me,
Strangely nobody cared, call me sick.
Teasing me lavishly and my heart is pricked,
Hurted me like hell when addressed me as stupid.
As like showering rain, missing on the lane!!

Time lapse in journey of life,
Can hamper anybody on its path.
When I see innate reflex of mine,
I always use to brightly shine.
Though possessing every job attributes of mine,
I never thought the authorities will ditch and hamper my career line.
Falsely acting bloody swine, making my image as fade as wine.
As like affecting harmonious divine, my soul was, as is transparently pristine!!

Destroying me and testing my patience, Never wanna give up.
Transformed deviations, wanna rightly screw up.
I wanna raise up, I wanna shake up.
I wanna wake up, Tranquilize my mind.
Unzip the professional life compressed by the culprits.
Wanna explore myself, driving the motivated heights of journey.
Lastly waiting for the optimistic opportunity.
Cuffing the suspect ,I wanna rejoice by my pattern of life!! 

with Suyog Pagare

Copyright © Madhavi Sarjare pagare | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet |

A child's plea

Dirty rotten scum to take the life of an innocent one torn away from my childhood but not yet thrown into adulthood you've given me a life of pain certain to only knowing, that never again, will the days be the same but I have found my new freedom here, within these mighty walls known as Gods kingdom

Copyright © Denise Hopkins | Year Posted 2013

Details | Personification |

Life's Paradox

Seeing yourself through
     A full-length mirror
Through the endless deed
            Of time
To day a mere reflection
      Of yesterday dreams'
    Today's curtains
       Yet to be opened
Dark Oh! so misty
Reality is only a myth
      From the times'
Draped by the promises'
     Of people we adore'
Knowing that freedom awaits'
         Just beyond thy
    Foot-steps' door

Gary Fields
Poet Author

From:  "The Cross"
            Xlibris  book # 106627
             Rev.  NOV2013

Copyright © Gary Fields | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |

Knights of Rationalism

We’re coming out of the caves
We’re moving into the Lime Light
It’s now ‘cause the time’s right
The bold and the brave
We’re here to tear down the old
We’re moving into the future
The New better suit ya
The brave and the bold

The age of Reason’s before us
There’s no more time to abhor us
Zealots, let go of your fear, the age of Reason is here

We’re rebuilding broken down schools
We’re building real education
Across every last nation
Your tyranny your rules
We’re climbing out of the dark
Out from your stories and fables
Now we’re turning the tables
Our freedom our ark

The age of Reason’s before us
There’s no more time to abhor us
Zealots, let go of your fear, the age of Reason is here

It’s time to breathe the fresh air
It’s time for no more pollution
Now we have the solution-
Drop delusion and prayer
It’s time to walk in the light
It’s time to love all the science
Show them all your defiance
You’re the Rationalist’s Knight

The age of Reason’s before us
There’s no more time to abhor us
Zealots, let go of your fear, the age of Reason is here

The age of freedom and wonder
And the church going under
So let go of your fear
The age of Reason is here

Copyright © Herb Alyètte | Year Posted 2010

Details | Epic |

Story of Afghanistan

Story of Afghanistan

The barren land of my birthplace
Green at times but screening a rocky face
Known for thousands of years for its warrior race
Let me tell you the truth,
No one really wanted this “space”.

Up until two lions began prying around
Initially, just fooling around
Afterwards, casting off their cannon sound
Resembling the 6th night of an infant’s fête
Building their castles, and so began the burial grounds.

The lions pledged to crush the other
With a master plan
Dividing the blood brothers
Such was the instruction of the queen mother
As the clans clashed and killed one another.
The chiefs were swallowed by the promise of gold
The mullahs were swapped for the hollow soul
The seniors by the fire recounted and foretold
The purpose for the lion’s vehemence
This story definitely in time will unfold.
The old grew timeworn
Waiting for their young ones to return home
The teenagers free born
Screamed out of their mosques’ domes
Come and join us in this struggle
Faced with the crusaders of the Church of Rome,
But little did they know,
No one will return but the maimed men to a funeral home.

The sturdier lion won the combat
But what has become of my Afghanistan
The wolf in a sheep’s disguise
Has spoiled my jade paradise
My heart denies it but I may have bombed my youthful chums,
This is now a global land-dwelling for bums and slums!
The lion wishes to be unveiled this time
So he promises to take the last dime
After all it pays to cooperate in war crimes!
He roars in a deafening cry
I bring Democracy to this land
With loads of cash in one hand
A whip in the back hand--forgetting the long years of perfidy
I now declare and demand
This is the new Promised Land.
 A woman of this realm is exposed with a promise
She is liberated by democracy
Famous on national publications like the story of Pocahontas
She’s affirmed independent and agreed to arise out of the darkness
As the saga is read to the United States Congress
She exhales
And anticipates the lion’s hunger
Waiting for the day when she will be veiled, unveiled, and then veiled again
Not by ordinary men
But by inscription of law.
Thank you for sealing the decree!

Copyright © Roya Zereh | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry |



                          The world is full of people trying to stand out.
                             But they don’t realize that they already do.
                          They try so hard to figure what life’s all about.
                      With all their piercings, Crazy hair, and fresh tattoos.
                           They miss out because of the worry they feel.
                         Will they approve of the way I dress, think, or act?
                           In the spotlight a few moments they might steal.
                    But some of the stupid things they do can’t be taken back.
                           I have a secret that only the few wise ones know.
                              Love who you are and forget what they think.
                             And all the good things in life will soon follow.
                              And you shall rise above all as the critics sink.
                                So meet the world with you head held high.
                                  Let them see the beauty that is in you.
                              Let them see your happiness and joy inside.
                   And know that nobody needs to love you more than you do.

Copyright © Carl Rankin | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

Passing Days with my dog Sam

The end of the day splays on my window sill,
Complete with soft rays from the setting sun.
To cause long shadows from an old oak tree,
To be painted on my shirt home spun

Night creeps in at its own pace.
The windows open, feeling a cool breeze.
My dog Sam and I rest in our cabin's space.
Sam with a bone, me with a beer, crackers and cheese.

Today has been calm, us just setting here,
Watching the quiet movement of another day.
Through our window saw a passing deer.
Sam barked once or twice, deer had nothing to say

Night falls dark and stars brightly shine.
Some covered by clouds from a North prevailing wind.
A chilling fog could cover the coastline,
And keep all the fishing boats locked in.

I may fall asleep sitting right here.
With Sam my companion and friend.
Hope when we wake in the morning the skies clear.
So Sam and I can do it all over again


contest.Inside my head old poets only

Copyright © Frederic Parker | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

A Man and His Cigar

A man in his later years enjoys a cigar.
He holds a fat brown rolled stogie with his fingers to his lips.
He puckers at the end of the stimulating stump, pulling a large puff.
He lights his vice with a blow torch.
Blue, red, yellow flame jets out the end of a curved steel tube.
He is balding and grey with whiskers.
Puckering and squinting casually his skin reveals fine wrinkles.
A dark green frame with round clear lenses sets on a large triangular nose.
His clothes are plain: 
a button collar shirt with tiny blue checks, 
a dark blue puffed coat, a tan denim bib.
His hands are large with fingers like sausages.
He holds his cigar and torch like a gorilla enjoying fruit.

At times only a moment matters.
The best things in life are not always sophisticated.
Experience and simplicity allow senses to be the only luxury needed.
People relish their vices 
after youth and excess have revealed what is common and uninteresting.
It is the process of feeling what is familiar and different about the moment 
which drives people in later years to enjoy an awareness of their senses 
rather than any perception driven by language.

Copyright © Graphite Drug | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

Human rights for contest

That day the army came to our village
And ravaged every part of it with terror
I held my baby sister, blood soaked,as she took her last breath 
Dad died in the battle lines trying to protect our family 
Mother and my two brothers managed to escape
I was recruited into the army with many other boys my age 
Eventually I got up the ranks of a captain 
I still fight the war that I don't understand, I still fight the war that's me

August 20 2015

Copyright © njeri hunjeri | Year Posted 2015

Details | Villanelle |

The Gypsy Queen

This week we turn sixteen
We should run away, just you and me
I’m gonna be a gypsy queen
You’re dreaming again, my dear josephine
You know this thing can never be
This week we turn sixteen
You have to help me I’m burning like gasoline
I want to be free, to dance, to swim in the sea
I’m gonna be a gypsy queen
My beloved sister this is obscene
We’re both adults now don’t you see
This week we turn sixteen
It’s in your eyes: you know I’ve seen
You might not have the guts to flee
I’m going to be a gypsy queen
Stay if you want and wonder what could have been
Nothing you can say that will stop me
This week we turn sixteen
I’m going to be a gypsy queen

Copyright © Benjamin Wormwood | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ballad |

All about Freedom

The fog is lifting 
I'm up there with the clouds 
The truth is coming at me
It's getting kind of loud
I'm telling everybody
"Hey", it's great to be alive
It's a crazy kind of feeling
When the truth arrives.

The truth within your spirit 
It is written in your heart
It was given to you by fate,
Of you to be a part
So let that knowledge set you free
There ain't no chains to bind you
And when it sinks into you deep
All shadows, they fade too.

Freedoms not about your wealth
Or anything you do
It's not just about who you are
The one the world calls you
It's about only freedom,
The act of being,
The only authenticity 
That one's poor life being free...

It's always about being you
And not letting others views
Make you something you are not,
Cause then you cannot lose
It's all about you being who you are 
And loving all of you 
Oh freedom that's my destination 
That's where I'm heading to.

Copyright © Brianna Parsons | Year Posted 2016

Details | Haiku |

Persian Haiku

                   Persian Haiku      (Segani) 

My wing altered with age.
The wing that is broken. 
My body is the cage.

I’m covered with dirt.
From this dirt I am alert.
Alert makes me hurt.

I’m talking to you!
My eyes are kissing you.
The fishes are watching.

How do you know that?
The tree is not my lover!
Spring will discover.

How childish is love?
When you stole my heart again,
How can I complain?

How sad is my tree?
In the middle of a prison;
Even though is free.

1/5/2015  Haloo

Copyright © Pashang Salehi | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

Retirement From Poetrysoup

I hereby retire from this website, poetrysoup.
Thank you so much for reading my poems through
the years, and the awesome comments. I have fulfilled
my obligations to myself, I hope you continue to read these.
I have met a friend who writes awesome poetry on Facebook.
I will leave you with his, and my links.
Thank You,
and have a good day
be someone and make the most of it.
-Bj Fard

Copyright © Bj Fard | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ballad |

a quiet freedom

Have you ever found yourself....
in a place you didn’t understand.
That had nothing to do with
your “real” life?

Then, memories rush back.
Ahh, everyone’s gone now
either from this earth
or they didn’t want to follow me

Through more of my trials and tribulations
or more mood swings and blood
I guess the life of a Manic Depressive
takes a different road than most.

Dramatic, unexpected choices
that threatened friend’s own marriages
“She’s so bold as to leave her husband for love”
and then it actually worked out

“Now she’s in Seattle”
“Wow, she just left her kids”
Assumptions were consistently made
with no grounds whatsoever

They didn’t know
that I was so vulnerable, I allowed myself to be Placed here.
and that I was so stuck, I couldn’t get myself out.
My heart ached, yet nobody asked me.  Nobody knew.

It’s time to go now.
My window of opportunity.
As vulnerable as ever,
But more desperately needing....

I want Me again
with choices
needing to know it’s still possible
to be out from under and be free.  For once.  
Nobody knew .  But I did.

Copyright © Melody Sokolow | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |


A time when puberty hits and the state of mind alters, thoughts of wild imaginations and adventures. YOUTH A time for fun and recklessness, mistakes and impulsiveness. YOUTH A time when courage is decided over timidity, and pure love lost over dignity.

Copyright © Yoni Abai | Year Posted 2015

Details | Bio |

Diamond Dust Turned Rock

I owe you, Cadbury iris of mine eyes
From age to age you watched me aged
Grace reminds, I'd see naught sans you gracing me
Yet; two more eyes I possess, there's two of spirituality.
Yes, I've grown from fire and ice, hurricanes, and sad groans
They say, one day I just simmered; seemed more settled
I who rose like dulcet scented rose in spring time
When time served stews with parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.
My whole life I spent waiting; feeling trapped inside dark hole
See, I lived near the Sea, but could not behold its quiet beauty
At seventeen, one knight sought my hands, I smelled freedom that night
As my spirit  soared; but he was dismissed... my heart felt sore with pain.
Dear to me was he. "You have eyes like a female deer." he said
But mine eyes now sparkle like a rock... black girls also rock!

Contest Sponsor: John Hamilton
Contest Name: "Wordplay Extravaganza"
Date: 4/14/16

Copyright © Iris Elizabeth Sankey-Lewis | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ballad |

Our Existence

Fearful am I to the call of death
To things that lead me down a road to insurrection,
But still I hear a raged few
Speaking the miracle of their existence

No thought of voice when wisdom called
From the solitude of its creation,
Until a stillness that we perceived   
Is in the miracle of its existence

I listen to the sound of a wayward wind
When loud a thundered cracks,
Until the season has gone too soon
Leaving the miracle of its existence

Mysterious the measure of a mountains crest   
When trees turn white in winter snow,
Yet I’ll still wait for what’s to come
And the miracle of my existence

Uncertain I am to what lays ahead
Along this road now wayward bound,
Defined by the origin of things to come
And the miracle of its existence

Copyright © Mark Norton | Year Posted 2016

Details | I do not know? |

The Vigilante Man

The Vigilante Man 
Chris is   not a thug
Chris don’t do drugs
Chris helps people
Chris   beats   up and arrest corrupt   cops
Chris stops them from banging
Chris stops them from slanging
Chris is on the top
Chris don’t stop
Chris   is cool as Ned Kelly
Corrupt cops are stupid fools
Chris is like Batman
 Chris loves   Catwoman
Chris brings   crooked cops   to justice.
Chris is not a slayer of kill
Chris is the layer of all actions
He’s   not a player 
He’s   not a pimp
He’s not a wimp
He’s   not in a gang 
He   don’t bang
He   don’t dope slang
He is the Vigilante Man of justice   and peace.

Copyright © Cmack Estevez | Year Posted 2016

Details | Verse |


The fox gnaws flaking muscle
From speechless rabbit, cold
In mind and body. Men shiver
As bodies dry, spat from river.

Rings of globes circle hands
Of the thoughtless, so beaten
From paths to be told of Him, 
Waiting until eyes grow dim.

Walking among us is plague,
Standing above us is but love,
These winds will claw our youth
While faith entraps this truth.

Winter comes but we survive,
Breath and bones, colonies thrive.

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |

Mop Handle Blues or Rowland Thunder

Young Jesi Naomi channeling Trish Roland 
incarnate professedly. Hour: you dead now?
Tuba bongo blues like a freight train serenade 
in the American night. You slammed life against 
the wall, slammed it. Drank it down 
with booze stained splinters and mop handle blues.
Guitar licks and microphone screams,
taste like swill and Lysol. If nausea 
Permeates your pours, belt it out
From the reaches of your bosom. You
Never played the possum.

I can’t wait for summer or autumn.

Winter though

Copyright © Stephen Barry | Year Posted 2015