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Ballad Art Poems | Ballad Poems About Art

These Ballad Art poems are examples of Ballad poems about Art. These are the best examples of Ballad Art poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Ballad |

Future Picture

Paint me my teacher
A picture of my future
Tell me at this juncture
About My future
I will listen with rapture
You my teacher
Show me every feature
Of my future.

spread me my teacher
the wings to my future
Make me learn
what my efforts will return
Hold my hand
Guide me and
let me walk the path
My life is worth.

Show me my teacher
what is stored in my future
show me the beauty
of my future duty
Then I will paint
a picture with no stain
A future perfect picture.

show me my teacher
the colors to paint my future
I will paint a doctor picture
Or paint a lawyer picture
I will paint my perfect future picture
with the colors from you my teacher
Help me paint my future
My respected teacher.

Copyright © Griffins Ndhine | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ballad |

To Whom It May Concern

I walk with a silence to my step,
as if in reality they never took place.
A shadow cast upon what has been done,
evidence misplaced.
Seconds merge into minutes, minutes which remain endless.
Days stand without weeks moments reign endless.
Does the mind play tricks, or do the thoughts stay mine.
Without word spoken, whispered from lips to allowing ears,
lies the moments experienced within the years.

Copyright © Gerald Moise | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ballad |

A House On the Cliff's Edge

There is a house on the cliff’s edge,
Around a quiet, unmarked shoreline
At night, the tide lifts high against a foggy moon
In the morning, gloomy clouds settle with the sea
At times, not even the birds are seen or heard
The house is left to nature’s caress

Home-crafted seashell chimes sway and sing with the wind
Crushed sand dollars lie together on the back porch
The shells were once whole, collected by the former owners
Long gone are they now, smiling with the moon
The owners are the very sound of the ocean spray,
Striking the rocks, announcing the cool dawn of day
They are not the dark, empty rooms,
The rooms that nobody thinks of as they go about their lives
The quiet owners are long gone—thought of only by one
A stillborn legacy about as tiresome as the sun,
When the clouds crisp out its beams . . .

A seawater puddle is in the middle of the dining room
Nobody knows it sits there, sinking in the floorboards
It used to be a far larger puddle after a storm,
Stealthily leaking into the house
But now it is small—so small—and the boards are moist,
Moist with its only companion amongst the instilled silence

Nobody thinks of empty, abandoned rooms
Nobody remembers the former owners
They were not much for socials and gatherings
They always lived their quiet, happy lives
Without a care of the outside world,
Far from anybody’s thought
Miles from the nearest home
Where the next generation comfortably lives 

He never finished fixing that leak . . .

Sometimes the puddle gets bigger after other storms
And when it does, there is almost life there again
You can see the chandelier reflected on the unperturbed water
As a crystal dangles and falls from on high
The dark silence following the drop is as deep as thought . . .

Nobody thinks of empty, abandoned rooms
Nobody remembers the former owners
There is merely a house on the cliff’s edge
Around a quiet, unmarked shoreline

-March 21, 2013-

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ballad |

Poetry Soup

Since joining just yesterday,
I have not had much to say,
As I sit here idle,
Waiting for a title,
I watch as you pass my way,

I am honored to be here,
While a select few may jeer,
Mostly I can see hope,
From the end of my rope,
Bringing about a joyous tear,

For all poets who have been called,
Disenchanted or enthralled,
Our mission always true,
We inform and move you,
To make you act or make you halt,

To rise above and expound the truth,
Or to lose ourselves in a groove,
Whether blatent or far out,
We live to learn - live to shout,
About love, laughter or the blues,

For although I may be new,
To this small poetic group,
I see what you've built,
With talent and skill,
Namely this Poetry Soup,

Copyright © My Gull Wheels On | Year Posted 2006

Details | Ballad |

Rabid Believers

The track marks are exposed, so you’ll have to look twice without getting caught. Your mind starts to wonder what it is he’s been shot full of, Cocaine?  Gasoline and formaldehyde?  Fabric softener or blue ne high. You’ll have to swallow hard because your throat’s gone dry from the bone dust. Reality is a broken jar of afterbirth, no longer able to contain the past remnants of truth, and shame… leaking all over the shag carpet. Spilling behind the couch into the cracks in the walls. Everyone can see the cigarette burns in the drapes. The neighbors are complaining about the sound of braking glass. Your smile’s gone cold and grey. The lines in your face run deep as wood grain and as smooth as a razor canoe on a river of flesh. You’ve taken shelter in the dry hardened shell of yesterday’s corpse. The sound track to your dreams are of rusty things that scream and clang, and “never mind” is the only thing that follows when you speak your mind in bits and pieces.  Father, bless this child of sin. Consume her eyes and salvage her skin. Drape it across her mother’s face to bind and hold the tears in.  The sweet nectar of heaven drips down from the trees onto your brow, anointed, salvation….religious disease.  I don’t deny these things in my life that I can’t quite grasp, cold winds, locust song, and haunting gasps. Invoke your true self in the blood without fear. My smile’s a scalpel across your eyes. There’s no denying these things that dwell within your bones.

Copyright © Pauly Plaster J.R. | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ballad |

I am

I am a child learning many new things,
I am into dimmonds and beautiful things,
I am loved,
I am cared for 
I am an adult,
I am recoving from abuse,and physical assult,
I am trusting,
I am gental,
I am mending in my heart,
I am helped by freinds,
I am making a new start.....
Thats just begining.....

Copyright © Jane Gulley | Year Posted 2007

Details | Ballad |

heart of pain

heart of pain , words of sorrow, been there mate, no tomorrow, get back on the horse, yes that's right, walk tall babe, through the lonely night! get some strength, just steal or borrow:) it's alright.... thanks Brenda...Don Brian Strand Contest Name IMAGE any image theme/any form 2-14 lines |

Copyright © DON JOHNSON | Year Posted 2011

Details | Ballad |

Miss Single

I finally let go of the man. That was toxic to my life. Got tired of being treated as if i didnt matter only to feed his sorry ego.  Got tired of working it out and fighting over the most stupidest things. God heal this Heart and help me move on cause i wanna be happy single. I lost so much love in myself trying to fight for a man that was lazy in loving me. Then waiting in the parking lot of my place to get my Attention when i tell him im done. When will my happiness start. When will i be free within this stressed out soul to experience the joy i deserve. I Deserve a man that deserves  me im not perfect but id rather be alone then with someone and feel lonely. Showers from the water drops to my feet i star at the gloss of my skin and think. I Allowed him to make me feel worthless. Unhappy just for the sake of saying i had someone because i feared of being alone. Now im single wothmy cat and its peaceful. But show me the side of life i deserve to live cause i need it. Newly single from a 3 year Relationship with a mommas boy free my entire soul from the hate and have me skate on the path to estacy. Help me to pray more do what i enjoy. Help me get to know me more and fall inlove with me. God help me prepare myself to be a better woman then send me my adam. Because he is missing his rib.

Copyright © Alicia Green | Year Posted 2017

Details | Ballad |

Love Is A War

There is something that I can't understand
Something blinds me when I look in your eyes
It makes my heart tremble 
Can't help it I'm sweating
Wanna run away but my body seems frozen
Oh don’t you know?
Love is a deadly virus
Once colonize your veins
You become addicted
And if you wanna give up
You have a contract to sign up
Leave your heart and go
Or take it with you broken.
If I have to choose between life or death I'd rather die in your depth
At least you won't forget about me until your last breath
You might say I'm cruel
Oh baby I don't wanna play the fool
Love is a war I can destroy the world to get ya
And even if the sky explodes over my top
And the ground is shaking under my foot and the waves swallow my bone
My heart will never stop beating for you
Yeah love is a war that I don't wish to lose
Love is a fray between fear and valor
Either take the risk till the end or forget about it and move on
But since I've fell for you your love is nourishing my blood
And there’s nothing else I'd care about
Cause baby I love you and I will never stop fighting for you
Here in my valley there's no white flag above my door
And in my head it's now and ever or let’s die together

Copyright © PYG's Whisper | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ballad |

Bubba bubba bound Bubba bubba bound

Bubba bubba bound Bubba bubba bound on my drumes i like to pound. 
Bubba bubba bound Bubba bubba bound i think it has a very cool sound. 
Bubba bubba bound Bubba bubba bound i would love to here it going around. 
Bubba bubba bound Bubba bubba bound don't let it turn your smile into a frown. 
Bubba bubba bound Bubba bubba bound here there where ever i am found in the sky or on the ground. 
Bubba bubba bound Bubba bubba bound i am so glad JESUS CHRIST  i have found. Bubba bubba bound Bubba bound and heaven someday i am bound. 
Buba bubba bound Bubba bubba bound.

Copyright © craig schaber | Year Posted 2011

Details | Ballad |


Almighty!  Almighty!
Grant us each others love
Grant us Unity

Almighty! Almighty!
We are you, you are we
One commUNITY

Make me an instrument 
Of your will

'Til my prayers for peace 
Are fulfilled

Precious Yahweh!
To the downtrodden 
Lord impart justice

Beloved Jehovah!
We must embrace 
For the sake of our children

Mighty Allah!
Hate is a condition 
We must fix

Jah Love!
We are Unity's tools 
We must build it

Great Buddha!
Stop us tearing down love 
With impunity

Sweet Jesus!  Sweet Jesus!

Exalted Muhammad!

Krishna!  Krishna!

Gay brother, my brother
At society's table 
Take your seat

Gay sister, my sister
There's a welcome mat 
At your feet

Brethren of no faith
Are all blessings from above

Bless and believe
In each other

Seek common ground
Faith differences be resolved

Yeah brother, my brother
Symbolize a love 
For all Humanity

Yeah sister, my sister
Nurture like mother's love
Preserve dignity

See no need for Unity
You have blindness

Build Unity right now
Spread Human-Kindness...

Right Now!


Build it right now!


Brother, brother!


Sister, sister!


All mankind!


Copyright 2016  Iger Rolyat   All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Iger Rolyat | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ballad |

From Sunday School to Monday Morning

Once again I tip the scale
And mutter, whoever invented it was a man from hell.
It was not a woman who created weights for size
For women can look past the outer shell
And search deep for what is inside.
Men must have their cake and eat it too…
From head to toe-perfection-from hat to shoe
I dress in all white for today I must teach Sunday school
If only a man’s heart would find my food
I can shake and bake
If only on my plate would a handsome man chance to take.

The preacher gets up on the pulpit and puts on his show
Talks about the place where adulterers must go
None of us admit he is a hypocrite as we all know
For he has slept with every woman in the front row.
But, even still my pig’s feet goes from hot to cold
No matter how many ties for him I’ve sewn.
Some women have all the luck
Others like me can’t even get a look-let alone a touch
Being me, ah yes, it is too much.

Sister “Gossip” waves her fan as I go past
“Speak out loud?” would be too much to ask.
I wonder if it is my skirt that is too tight
Or whether I will be at home alone again tonight
I wonder if whatever she says about me is worth a fight
Or is it even true and right.
I pray for her soul with all my might,
I can’t let the Devil move into my mind.

People tell me I sing like a bird
Its gospel time, time to praise the Lord with words
I walk on stage to take my turn
Hands sway from side to side and my throat burns…
But the men stare at the teenager in the short skirt
And the first lady with the red dress
My curves ripple my stomach
For I am not that blessed
I have what a man wants to hear
But to lye beside me is what they all fear.

The service offered nothing by way of encouragement.
But, I have worshiped God
Even if the day was not heaven sent
I know somehow it must be time well spent.
I kiss the little children good-bye
And pretend all is joyous on the inside.
Satin-Legs Smith walks pass the church and sighs
We all know what is on his mind
Therefore though I dream of marriage he doesn’t give me the time.
He looks at me winks and a little smile.
He would only laugh if I asked him to come eat with me
For a little while.

I hang my coat in the closet
Beside a dusty wedding dress
I was wishful thinking when I bought it.
It is four sizes to small
I had planned to shrink into it by last fall.
But, too much time passed and I can’t even return it to the mall.
I can’t bring myself to put it in the trash down the hall.
I may use it for curtains or to cover the dirt stains on my front wall.

I lay myself down to sleep
And pray to the Lord my soul to keep.
And that I do not die before love I see
It is enough to at least give me hopeful dreams.

Monday comes and I have to go off to clean
For rich white people who don’t need anything.
Except for J. Alfred Prufrock
He lives on top 
Of the food chain
But he too is looking for love
We’re both the same.
He always looks at me like he has something to say
But he can’t get past his bald spot or the creases on his face.
Again I wonder should I do the flirting dance
Let him know I am available and that I can
And I will, so he will take a chance
I know he would be willing to love me still
I am not settling for second best!
He is a man!
I am a woman!
Shouldn’t we make love manifest?

I think I will give it a go
And see if I could be someone he would come to know
A fine meal some sweet potatoes and a roast
A pan of peach cobbler, such things men love the most.
I will make his house squeaky clean
Show him what he could expect if he married me.
I drive up and he is at his window
Watching his neighbors come and go
Eavesdropping on their conversations
About Michaelangelo.
And he is reading a book, Dante’s “Inferno”

“Is this for me?” when he sees the plate of food.
I nod yes and hope it gets him in the mood
He smiles, blushes and turns red.
All sorts of happy thoughts run through my head.
But still he only eats and does not speak
It seems the asking will be up to me. 
But what do I say for I do not wish to be
Considered by him, a hussy.
I ask him if he likes the movies.
He tells me he prefers plays
“I have never been to one” I say.
“Maybe I shall take you to one someday.”	
“And I will make you a German Chocolate cake.”
“I guess then it is a date.”

How should I wear my hair?  Should I sport an afro?
Or get a perm?  This is the time to use all those make up tips that I learned.
It seems I will feel the joy of being an Eve.
The birds are singing just for me.
The sun is shining, the flowers are blooming.

Will they be putting Prufrock on my tomb stone
If I do this right I won’t die alone…

Copyright © Tyshawn Knight | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ballad |

Mother Africa

Mother Africa,
Gather your sheep like a good shepherd.
Teach them morals and guide them rightly,
Educate them on African Values and culture.
Protect your sheep from the hynas and lions
That parade more in the forest of life to kill.
Remember the community begins at home.

I know you are not irresponsible like the Goat
Who has three breast but gave birth to four kids;
What will the fouth kid suck if others are sucking?
Guide the boys to stop looking at the Ladies lustfully,
The girls must bring their husband  home as it is
Stated in the tradition of Africa, no under tree love.

Cover your children with your wings like
Mother Hen covers her chicks against the kites.
Do not go loose in front of the young minds;
For when mother cow is cropping giant grasses
Her calf watches her from behind the scene.
Act like the mother you are not like a child you're not.

When a child misbehaves in your presence,
Hit him with a rod of correction and bring him
Back to your side with a sweet flavoured left hand.
Educate the ladies how to close their legs while sitting, and the boys, you must not leave behind;
Teach them that Africans never pregnate a lady before they marry her and the younger ones,
Tell them that Africans don't put their trouser 
on their waists.

See her in skimpy skirt and drive the skirt away from her waist, African women  don't wear skimpy skirt.
Those whose wrapper always untie because of civilization, padlock the wrapper to their waists.
Those boys whose pants flip up and down publicly,
Tie their pants with ropes to their waist, Africans have a face to preserve and protect in days to come.
She lust after money when in love and lost her value, show her what love means to Africans.

Father Africa, leave all not in the hands of Mother,
Bark when you needs to bark in front of your sheep.
Roar like a wounded Lion when the sheep goes wild,
All should not be left in the hands of Mother Africa
Nature has made us two, two together, two hearts beating as one can preserve many lost dignities.
You and you can save the you that stray away in shame.

(C) John Chizoba Vincent
All Right Reserved 2016

Copyright © john chizoba vincent | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ballad |

Our Education Is Dead

Our education is dead!
Our education is dead!!
The bedrock of our society is gone;
Who shall bury it with its weeping soul?
The wise are crying at the hall of ignorance
The Ignorance are rejoicing at the detriment of their 
Foolishness, rather than weeping togther with us.

No more chalk to teach us how to rule,
But there are many beers at the bar to drink.
No more table to sit in the classroom but
There are tables for the looters to write and steal.
No more biro to write and books to read but
There are many cigaret to smoke and enjoy. 
Our education is dead and gone!
Our education is dead and gone!!

Teachers are bereaved at the dungeon of Unpaid salaries,
Looters build many mansions without looking back,
Their wards are sent abroad to school whilst we dine
With the dead system they killed with their legs.
Our education is dead and gone!
Our education is dead and gone!!
Fools are clapping in merriment;
The wise are entangled in fears of the unknown.

Our messed generation care not,
When is the future for the messed generation?
The ICT systems are sagging,
The academics boards are leaking;
The professors are dead with their sagging English,
They are teaching us nothing, nothing at all!
Our education is dead and gone!!

Copyright © john chizoba vincent | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ballad |


Green lush of green 
lush green is green
a leaf of language 
a branch of word 
a flagstone steps 

Heart of the earth is free, 
white flowers
Clean heart, 
fine arts literature
sketching art 
arable land 
planting gratitude

Green is nature 
cool breeze 
citing cloud 
loyal heart 
clarity of thinking 
for the future!

Copyright © Neldy Jolo | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ballad |

Oh Night, Be Gentle, Be Kind

Oh night, be gentle be kind the stage of this long pause is still benign. Oh night, be gentle be kind rigors and tension, still going through my mind. Oh night, be gentle be kind the resting mood of the skies is a good sign. Oh night, be gentle be kind my hunters of nature’s safe now align. Oh night, be gentle be kind sleep is his hidden mistress and she, they must find. Oh night, be gentle be kind wary and stress through her massage they grind. Oh night, be gentle be kind even to the soul and spirit she assign. Oh night, be gentle be kind body calmness casting a spell to temporarily go blind. Oh night, you’ve been gentle and kind a good day has come out of your hospitality. Oh night, you’ve been gentle and you’ve been kind a peaceful sleep surely will propel a successful day.

Copyright © Funom Makama | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ballad |

Star-Gazed Nostalgia

Lets climb up that old tree, 
make the clouds disappear. 
Let’s climb up that old, lemon colored tree, 
make the rain clouds disappear.

Rough wood, and a rickety ladder,
White christmas lights trim the slumping roof
over a few branches 
and we're crawling-
through the doors 
of a star-gazing tree house
 full of nostalgia. 

Sounds of traffic, cross walk conversations 
Trotting past that old jazz bar, 
a mexican family arguing on the stoops, 
funny how an unknown language 
can still make sense on the inside.
the mother gestures her son upstairs to sleep, 

But my world’s only waking. 
There’s a party up ahead. 
and there’s something ‘bout the nights’ breeze
blowing off the cars and into the trees. 
its Got my heart singing about this new love I’ve found.

Copyright © Katelyn Dobbs | Year Posted 2012

Details | Ballad |

The Joy Of Growing Older

The world is shape by the laughter of big children
been brought into the earth ever increasing from start. 
Our parents sew our childhood for us that
we may wear joy when much older and smarter. 
Hunger hurts our pride as we progress  in the journey, 
We cry gently, we laugh in torment of all miseries. 
Our lives count as the day chameleon to night. 

We migrated from child to teens
the whirlpool of many rivers we counted.
Fear controls our songs and confusion ruled our souls. 
We make ourselves new flags of adolencent, finding 
identity,  spreading tunes and tones of puberty controls us.
Teenage dreams hurt, academic activities bring pain. 
Hoping to see the panic of adulthood we crave. 

At eighteen adulthood sets in roughly. 
We listen to reverberation songs of girls, 
We ignore our larents advice to stay calm, 
we become afraid of tomorrow's face. 
Chirping rumours of what life is snatches,
the jargon of a new world streams in:
the uncertainties of life crossed paths in souls. 

At the feet of marriage expression stares... 
Time exploration pun a sudden throb to hearts. 
We're  caught between forging understanding
In the forging house of a new life of love. 
Husband,  a nightmare conquering wife's  joy, 
Wife,  a shape blade of expectation to husband. 
We clamour and crave for what we'll never have. 

The mystic rhythm,  urgent rhymes of death echoes,
speaking  to our souls of another fearful phase. 
We return to childhood at old age misbehaving and
sipping raw bleeding flesh of pains in the world.
Our blood rippled, our skins wrinkled Simultanously.
Until we close our eyes eyes and silent follows... 
Children, pains,  fears and agony are the joy of growing older. 

©John Chizoba Vincent

Copyright © john chizoba vincent | Year Posted 2017

Details | Ballad |

I Am Not Silent Goat


Treat me not so,
I am not a silent goat;
Every human has his pride
So do I.
Don't take me for granted; I can move, breath and chew as you do, so treat me not so. 

Kick me not so,
I am not a silent goat;
The cud in mouth  is not an act of stupidity,
But a way of enduring hardship but can't endure it any longer than this.
So treat me well and I shall serve you better.

Are humans better than goats?
Even though you are-
We become equal at death, 
Then why carry yourself up as if you own the world?

I am not as silent as you may think I am,
I have a right to live  as you have;
Treat me like a fool and you shall be arrested immediately:
Every goats are not without passion to live and be free like humans.

More blood dripping down from my eyes,
More pains stripped down on my body;
Is that not enough for the perfection of my stupidity?
As I stretched in the womb,I heard your complaints,
There seemed to be a mess that another goat is coming-
Why treat me though like am insane?

I am not a silent goat you should have known that,
I talk when others are silent looking like a coin.
Why treat me like this?
Why treat me like a commoner?!
Why kick me here and there?
I have a conscience like you do!!!

(C) john chizoba vincent

Copyright © john chizoba vincent | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ballad |

Being an Artist

Have I not told you that what you mistake
for madness is but the overacuteness of the senses?
- Edgar Allen Poe, “The Tell-Tale Heart

I have seen men forget to Look at themselves
And ponder on their souls and their hearts:
There they sit and smirk and giggle
At the frailties of fellow man
And at the fallibility of another.

Through misty dawn till dusk
Their lips move with stealth
Defaming and cursing at ease
Playing with the Cello of Death.

"He is insane, you can wager on that,"
"A bastard, he thinks like a swine,"
"He is spiritually dead, sold for cowries,"
Atrocious words from evil tongues.

A poet like me has been so addressed
Since my thoughts and ways are irrational:
The artist from Plato's time to present
Has lived under despicable sight.

Artists are strange people
In art they have found themselves;
In art they have found truth, happiness-
So, why call them mad? Why call them mad?

The persecutors burn with evil and delight,
And they are of the perfece breed, they think-
The best corn in the stack, hear them sing
The artist's head wedged beneath their legs.

written- 18th Feb. 2014
3:50 PM

Copyright © Gerald Nforche | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ballad |



She drives me up the wall like a slave-driver
O yes, she does ! but even though she may wield 
the rod in her hand ever so threateningly at me 
At the slightest suspicion of insubordination, 
Leaving me cowering with fear, I love her just the same, 
Perhaps much more than I ‘ve ever loved anybody else before! 
I may ‘ve become certifiable as a result, who knows, 
But whatever the case may be, 
pray don’t judge me harshly until you ‘ve heard me out.

I love her for the same farcical reason that Socrates
Ostensibly loved that cantankerous woman Xantippe.
By temperament and upbringing, I find a woman who 
Stands up to a man much more appealing than one 
Who’s obsequious and complaisant!
What happened to me, therefore, was no accident but a 
quantum leap; I had no control what so ever over the turn of events
That got us this far in our fledgling relationship.
Ever since I met her, my life, which had hitherto been
Fairly peaceful and uneventful, has, all of a sudden,
Taken a dramatic turn.

And like a minx, she has so turned my head around
I can’t tell for certain whether I am coming or I am going!
Suffice to say I’ve been acting up silly and rather foolishly
For a grown up person (I don’t know whether or not I still
Have any semblance of an ego left, what with this 
Attractive je ne sais quoi I find so irresistible about her!)
Oh no, don’t tell me I’ve been doing this all for the
Wrong reasons ! or that I am laying it on thick.
It’s only me who knows exactly what I am feeling.
Besides, I am not talking morals here, I am talking
About what it feels like to love somebody to a fault.
If she did walk out on me now I can guarantee you
That would certainly be the death of me!
I am sure that’s not what you would all like 
To see happen to me just yet unless of course
You’ve been spoiling for my death while pretending to be my friends.
When all else is said and done, I’d rather be
Henpecked than let go of this maverick specimen of womankind
Who has lodged herself in my life uninvited,
Making it her home, and has since then never failed
To drive me up the wall like a slave-driver with her rod.
Not only is she good sport, but like a morning
Star she’s such fun to be with, I promise you!


Copyright © stephen syacika | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ballad |

Life Is Unfair


Teach the children of tomorrow
For tomorrow holds more pains, 
Lie within the oasis of hatred for love is far.
The lilies of power can witness the aroma
Of flavoured words in my dying mouth,
Defend the unbelieve of motherearth to the nature.
In the world lies life and death although;
When a man question the gods, he becomes
More stupid to the core because men are wiser
Than the gods now.

Believe not the noise from the air,
Believe not the fake work of the sun,
Believe the moon has no season and;
The cloud has no reason to doubt my wisdom,
The wisdom of the wise comes from their stupidity
Through the evolution of the world.

Life isn't fair enough to mankind,
The world is a wicked place to be
Looking at the heartless earth joying.
Life is unfair to humanity,
He is partial to mankind, treating us differently;
Some fly with wings, some have no wing to fly.
Some have whilst others have none to look at.
Your wish a nightmare that remove your panties,
Dreams hurt more than having them not.
The unborn is better than the man who lives
On earth, gain all the wealth there of but another
Foolish inherit it back to back.

Life treats some badly whilst others
He treats rightly without blemish,
Life has treats some scornfully
Sucking out the remains of their joy.
Mother against her daughter, son against fathern
Father defile his daughter, son bed his sister;
Blood meet same blood, and no atmosphere for it.
Life is unfair to mankind treating us differently.

The world is wicked, the earth is heartless,
The sand is cruel and the sun, a traitor.
Who is man anyway that he strive all day long?
Why do we have no eyes of what tomorrow shall be?
Shoudn't we be permitted to number our days?
Man today, dust tomorrow, then why life anyway?
Life has treated us thou and we cry out our mouths,
Send the letter of agony to the world, let them read.
Let the angry parrots wipe those tears in their eyes,
For tears means nothing but an avenue of sufferness
To man.

Life, to some is full of sickness, problems and misery,
To some; it is full of goodies and happiness,
To the others, it is but troubles, sorrow and agony.
To others, it is rock hidden below water at love feast,
While they feast with you.
Life, a shepherd who feed itself without fear,
Waterless cloud carried here and there by wind,
Fruitless trees in late autumn, having died twice
And having been uprooted, man today; dust tomorrow.
Life, a wild waves of the sea that cast up
The foam of its own shame and disquist,
Stars with no set course; for which the blackest
Darkness stands reserve forever.
"Life is for running, if you won't run, situation will
Over take you" but some had run but the trophy is not seen.
Oh! Life itself meaningless and worth nothing to offer.

Our poverty comes as one that travels
And our mind needs as armed men with black faces.
Our destinies are not equally distributed,
We toil all night with no result whilst
Some work little but abundant is giving to them.
You build another inherit with joy while you perish,
You know not your date like the fish in the water
Knows not when it will be caught by the hook.
Life is meaningless, the journey of life itself is hopeless.

Copyright © john chizoba vincent | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ballad |

A Shared Dream

Chills of comfort
as smooth as skin 
grazing grey stones. 

In the next room-
technology is hard at work
churning, turning
while the guitar gently rifts. 

Harsh winds are whipping, 
we are lying 
above a pale yellow floor
across a hazy tundra.

Copyright © Katelyn Dobbs | Year Posted 2012

Details | Ballad |


Read that
Aw, made me blush
You didn’t got my way to write a poem
Same thing I did to Lontie
That’s why I kept on asking you
Read here
Sulu Sail there
Indeed, you read it?
Yes, you know what?
I don’t know, what is it
You know the entire time that I was mocking you 
And yet you still have cornered me with your charm.
What do you think of that poem?
Charming, you really know your way to my heart no?
I love the poem I wrote because someone is inside it.
Was there any poem you have written without anyone in it?
Yes, but in this poem is only you is that someone
One poem of me then
Indeed this is the poem for you
Who has the most numbers of poems who have written about?
I mean, you have written about
No one except my life and journey
And right now this poem is you
What contains in my poems is my journey in life
But personified by moment
So to whom is that ilyimy line then?
Iloveyouimissyou that is for you!
Go, you're a flirt!
Isn’t it cute?
Lost for words as always
What do you mean?
No one has ever written a poem about me, but you.
My pleasure!

1:53AM, 9 March 2013
Sandakan, Sabah Malaysia

Copyright © Neldy Jolo | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ballad |

The Long Way Home

trotting across my back field
there’s a storm brewing-in
it’s misty friend is climbing 
through the cold, prickly wires

Delicately drenched, 
as wet as 
a dog’s kiss,
there’s a-storm brewing-in
it’s casual pal is breezing-
bothering the wicker trees.

his smile- 
brightens my mind 
like the italian renaissance.
inhaling red tipped 
we chat under the glistening leaves. 

But there’s a storm brewing-in
it’s hamper full dirty laundry
is drying-
stringing across my back yard. 

his laugh-
is as pleasing 
as old dogs learning new tricks.
Just one more outburst, 
and I swear this storm will turn to stone. 

I bask-
his attention is as gratifying 
as a masters gentle stroke
just one more round of 
darting eyes and light hearted jokes.

I realize now, 
He grumpiness does best
to protect what’s raw and rare-
from the snakes who try to tear us away from home.

Like stumpy cigarettes, 
hanging off the tips 
of tough our lips. 
we’ll share each other’s worlds.
Yes, Like stumpy cigarettes, 
hanging off the tips 
of tough our lips.
let’s melt into each other’s worlds.

Copyright © Katelyn Dobbs | Year Posted 2012

Details | Ballad |


Remember me
as colours fade away and brooks dry away and nature cry the day
Remember me
if your eyes ever cried or hands ever shook or body ever shivered
Remember me
if the day turned night and there was no light to make the shadow appear
Remember me
for all the long days we spent far away and burned notes of lovers steam
Remember me
if you ever got lost and nothing lead the path but a spectrum of my past
Remember me
when the room split in half's and curtains roll around and gohsts come around
Remember me
if the clock struk once and the time was done like nothing ever begun
Remember me
if my life fade away, and no one decided to stay on my grave with respect to pay
Remember me
if my word ever knocked the doors of your house and sneaked through the window to find nothing alike!!?
Remember me
if time ever stopped and my soul was dropped before you as a broken glass
Remember me
when the weather gets cold, when the sun never rise and it rains so hard
Remember me
if you felt what I felt and drowned with regreat for a life apart spent
Remember me
as an angel of night who failed to protect your heart from the judgement of a crule knight

Copyright © Ali Adhab | Year Posted 2015

Details | Ballad |

I Can Be Your Superman

I've seen how 
he miss treats 

He's always 
making you cry.

He leaves you lonely,
instead of holding you 

He rather hangout with 
his friends, then spend 
quality time with you...

And I can't bear
to see you like this 
anymore !!

I can't bear to just
stand by, as he keeps
breaking your heart.

It's time I put that S
on my chest, and 
come save you.

Treat you like 
a real man should.

Leave him in the past,
he doesn't deserve you.

I'm the answer
your heart seeks...

Come with me.

Written by: Poet Shi

Copyright © Poet Shi | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ballad |

Jean-Louis Barrault As I lay dying

Heavy storm was sweeping dark Paris streets
Lit with dim lights that dreary November night 
With ghostly shadows lurking in the corners
Cold wind dancing with dirty wet leaves fallen 
In the water pools in the middle of the street
It has been raining already for three weeks
Everybody was getting impatient and
Anxiously praying for a long waited relief

Behind the closed doors of Theater de I’Atelier
Filled with mythical spirits of Champs-Elysees
That gloomy night a magic was about to happen
The stage was sunken in the darkness yet
While audience quietly was taking seats
An imaginary world was opening behind
The heavy black curtain that was hiding
The secrets of magic of the theater
And was slowly rising to the ceiling

The center stage circle was bright lit
With dark corners filled with imaginary 
Shady creatures crawling slowly towards 
The center like moths attracted to the light
It felt like a fiesta of the creatures of the night 
Unexpectedly stunning confused audience
White horse emerged from the darkness
Like a fool moon sliding over the edge 
Of a heavy cloud in the center of the stage
Stopping for a moment glancing shyly
Then jumping over the edge of precipice 
The horse hit the ground with his hoof
Terrifying sound left his wet snout
He leaped and flew towards horizon 
That was emerging on the backstage
With dark heavy curtains rising
And opening the view in front of
Audience suspended in disbelief
Of endless prairie going forever
Touching the edge of the sky
And extending itself like a lazy
Snake towards the milky way
Stunned audience gasped

A quiet moment passed by 
And then a young man appeared
In the middle of a vast lit stage 
Sitting on a horse and smiling
In a victorious way like someone
Who just tamed a wild mustang
Just like he was trying to tame his pain
For all those long unbearable days
While his mother was lying in bed 
At a small window to the backyard
And watching a coffin to be made 
For her from a raw three trunk
That smelled like wind and the sun
She knew she was slowly dying 
And quietly waited till preparations 
Are made so the moment of death 
Can come over like a welcome guest
And take away her lonely aching soul
Which used to be like a white mustang 
That was dreaming of being free and wild
Running green fields and chasing clouds 
But was tamed by the hardships of life 
And was reduced to a battered drought
By everyday heavy exhausting load
She was getting weaker every day
Every night that was passing by
Took her strength bit by bit
But her spirit was not dead yet 
She made an extreme effort 
To stand and walked slowly outside
To see the moon and the sky 
Filled with stars and a big dipper
Friendly smiled into her eyes
Her white long hair was flying
In harsh cold wind that night
Like a spider cobwebs spread wide
Touched the nose of a white horse
He made a quiet sniffing sound
When she leaned on him and died
She was holding horse with her arms
Her empty eyes were staring at the sky
Young man sitting on the horses’ back
Grabbed her swiftly and pulled up
Like a light body of a sleeping child

On a bare wooden floor of the plain stage
Hypnotized enchanted audience saw
A young man holding an old woman
In his arms on the back of a white horse
Who was crossing the universe towards
Shining bright twinkling star North
He was flying far away from the sorrow
To the light that lifts the hollowness
Of the arduous earthly life

It was a single mime on a plain stage
But his movements gestures and face
Created artistic full blooded alive 
Image of Love Hope and Escape
Audience saw a trinity on the stage
In a few different kaleidoscopic
Dynamic emerging and fleeting ways 
Brought to life by a willpower of a man
Who squarely believed in the magic of stage

A year ago he was in a creative daze
In the middle of night on the stage 
Taming a wild horse till exhausted
He fell down on a bare cold floor
Slipping in a deep like death sleep
He was walking in a prairie filled with
Tall wild grass reaching the clouds

He got lost and his heart was beating loud
Then he saw an old woman who was lying
On a dry grass floor at the water pool
With long white hair spread wide
With empty eyes staring at the sky 
She looked at him and died
A young man her beloved son was
Feverishly trying to hold indomitable 
Horse with his young strong hands
So he can take his pain away
And he would not have to feel
The loss and to think about 
The dialectics of death and life

He saw a horse a man and a woman
In his vision that night very late
Almost in the morning when sunrise
Was coming through the window 
And the horse was hopping away 
In to the opening gap of the 
Bleeding red morning sky
Melting into distant disappearing
Constellation of milky way
When he opened his eyes 
He was deeply shaken by the image
He saw in his dream last night
Which expressed the essence
Of sorrow despair pain and loss
The image of a man woman and a horse
So he knew he had to try
To tell the story on the stage
The way he saw it in his daze

The audience was very quiet
When the stage curtain fell down
Announcing the end of the show
On the bare stage on the plain floor
Magical world that opened the doors
Into delicate realm of shapes and forms
Had a strange effect just like a raging storm
That was gone by the time of the end
Bringing unexpected agonizing relief
That Aristotle called the effect of catharsis
Or the purge of a suffering wounded soul
That couldn't find peace in the real world

Copyright © ruta skendeliene | Year Posted 2016

Details | Ballad |


Let's opinion be different so there is story
I do not like to air criticism
I just only like to ask
And the question itself will be criticism
Criticism on people who were asked
If to ask would be more prudent
Criticism is quite violent
I am so afraid of violence
I have to use the technique
Technique to ask with its critique 
And that is certainly more painful
Like a snake that run along quiet
But the extract of poison is very painful
I also laughed when criticism aired among
True indeed… 


Oleh Neldy Jolo

Biarkan pendapat itu berbeza jadi ada cerita
Aku tidak suka berkritik
Aku suka sahaja betanya
Dan pertanyaan itu sendiri akan jadi kritikan 
Kritikan pada orang yang ditanya
Kalau bertanya akan lebih berhemah
Mengkritik itu agak keras 
Aku sangat takut kekerasan
Aku kena menggunakan teknik
Teknik bertanya dengan kritikan bersamanya
Dan yang pastinya itu lebih pedih
Ibarat ular yang menyusur tenang
Tetapi bisanya sangat pedih
Aku juga tertawa bila berkritikan sesama
Benar belaka…

Wednesday, 20 March 2013, 4:59 PM
Let US All Save Peace. Ilyimy. Layag Sug!
Puisi hasil perkongsian cerita dengan Cikgu Ezza Fazlina Jamlidi

Copyright © Neldy Jolo | Year Posted 2013

Details | Ballad |


I walk...
Now I am walking. 
There's a sun in the sky
Early birds fly.
Soaring high, 
in the clouds going by

Copyright © Neldy Jolo | Year Posted 2014