Poetry Forum Areas

Introduce Yourself

New to PoetrySoup? Introduce yourself here. Tell us something about yourself.

Looking for a Poem

Can't find a poem you've read before? Looking for a poem for a special person or an occasion? Ask other member for help.

Writing Poetry

Ways to improve your poetry. Post your techniques, tips, and creative ideas how to write better.

High Critique

For poets who want unrestricted constructive criticism. This is NOT a vanity workshop. If you do not want your poem seriously critiqued, do not post here. Constructive criticism only. PLEASE Only Post One Poem a Day!!!

How do I...?

Ask PoetrySoup Members how to do something or find something on PoetrySoup.

You have an ad blocker! We understand, but...

PoetrySoup is a small privately owned website. Our means of support comes from advertising revenue. We want to keep PoetrySoup alive, make it better, and keep it free. Please support us by disabling your ad blocker on PoetrySoup. See how to enable ads while keeping your ad blocker active. Also, did you know you can become a PoetrySoup Lifetime Premium Member and block ads forever...while getting many more great features. Take a look! Thank you!

Bird Brother Poems | Bird Poems About Brother

These Bird Brother poems are examples of Bird poems about Brother. These are the best examples of Bird Brother poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

If you don't find the poem you want here, try our incredible, super duper, all-knowing, advanced poem search engine.

Details | Free verse |

Return Of Your King

Reflections of imperfections have shown me a way that I can move mountains through my power of faith even though I can't see him I know he is real through the power of prayer and a Love that I feel It's growing inside me like a flower in bloom shall I reveal my powers or is it too soon I am reading the signs through my darkness I find a reason for belief in the light of mankind that I know shall overcome the greatest of odds the Love I seek amazes me especially through the flaws because now I am inspired through the hero's that bring my throne through the darkness on which I return on as your King.

Copyright © Bj Fard | Year Posted 2013

Details | Lyric |



                             The Apple PASTURE

Oh how I long
To drift into the apple pasture.
Were once was and all well meet.
A pure and dear site.
Where silver reflection cover the still waters that holds the golden
grains of morality and the grazing souls lie young amounce no stars.
Oh how I long
To drift into the apple pasture
Were winds smell of melon and the trees whisper spring corals in the mellow dark and best of light and time creeps into no tomorrow.


Copyright © JAY JOHNSON | Year Posted 2011

Details | Blank verse |

Sketches 14

The young boy was pale, 
He walked slowly in the alley 
No. 41.His skeleton hand hold a rusted tin can. 
He was in business,for him it was. 

On his innocent face, 
In a modern world,who really forgotten 
Kids like him was also human too.His eyes 
Pasted on a piece of bread on the dirty pavement. 
On his side was tall buildings,on the other was a busy EDSA. 

A dove whose feather blacken by the third world metropolis, 
Peeped down from the lamp post, 
Measuring the distance of the bread on the ground 
Look at the child,inclining its head side ward, 
Then,their eyes meet,resting on each other stare 
Like eternity, 
And it flew toward the blinding sun. 

The boy saw a man approached, 
Polished shoes landed on his lunch 
The gold Rolex,tailored clothes,big ring, 
A heavy necklace hung loosely on beefy neck. 
Surprised on a sudden hand that raised on his way, 
"Move out!" bellowed angrily,then scurried quickly on a green traffic
 light. "Fool..."the boy sighed. 

Business is business,he thought,as he reached out the crushed bread 
Uttered a little prayer,ate it religiously with tears on his eyes. 
Every bite he remembered his little brother he left this morning
on their cartoon box house 
At Smokey Mountain outside Manila,its smoke ascend forever 
Till the end of time,because of the corrupt lordship in kings palace
His little brother burned at stake alive waiting for his pancit. 
His father was an inmate at Bilibid prison selda katorse (14)
His mother was a girl  in the street. 

Then an old woman came out at the Binondo Church. 
Walked briskly as the wind swept the dusk on summer days. 
Stopped,a discolored dirt hand spread for an alms. 
Irritated,she rummaged her purse,and gently place the one peso 
on the boys hand,made sure to slow her movement,maybe the rest 
Were looking at her, she raised her brow and smile
"Of course.", she said sweetly
Father hope will see this act she thought that
Might mention her name in homily,Mrs. Cerbo was kind to the poor. 
He spit the coin and swipe it on his dirty torn shirt 
And say..."God Blessed Maddame." 

Then he ran at the little Sari-sari store
Brought a piece of bread,break it into halves 
He hid his share on his  pocket 
Then tossed the half on the side walk
When the boy had gone, blue wing landed 
Ate with pride and thinking, "stupid boy..stupid boy..".

Copyright © Herbert Siao | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |

Nature's Single Dads - The Australian Emu

Nature’s Single Dad:
The Australian Emu :
The first 55 days

Emund is busy
preparing his
dance-floor for
partners who’ll put
him to the test. 
His pedigree line
has proven with time

that it is now his
turn, to be best.
He hears them emerge
from the bush as
they gather in
answer to nature’s
They dance, and then
go away, they know
they cannot stay; 
there is not enough
food for them all. 

They dip and they
weave as they mingle
together knowing
that each has a
With his reputation,
there is no
he is ready to join
in the dance.
‘Bonk! Bonk,’ comes
the sound of another
arrival, ‘It’s
Emulena!’ he says
with a grin. 
Others move to the
side as he leaves
them mid-stride 
to greet this dancer
as she flounces in.

With sensuous,
rhythmic movement of
hips she fluffs up
her boa, it bounces
in time. 
He matches her mood.
His movements are
as they twist and
twirl in their
dancing mime.
He does not fuss
about who takes the
lead, he follows and
their dance now is
With steps that are
light he glides to
the right, 	
he meets her, bows
deeply, head
Emulena says,
“Sorry, we cannot
stay longer, we all
must find paddocks
It matters not
whether we all stay
we trust you to know
what to do.”
As she speaks, they
deposit their gifts,
and he hears, as in
chorus they say,
“We know you’ll do
magically, what you
do naturally 
to deliver these in
your own way.”

After completing her
task, Emulena stands
tall and she fluffs
up her feathers once
They follow her lead
in twos, and in
and promenade across
the dance floor.
Left all alone, he
goes back to his
duties and looks
closely at each pale
green shell.
He checks all for
defects. He sees
they are perfect, 
so with care he
covers every one

He sticks to his
task for fifty-five
days in sunshine,
strong winds and
some showers.
He values each
treasure and tends
them with pleasure 
as he, turns each
egg every three
Through his long
lashes he sees
danger coming. He
drops his neck down
like a log.
Feathers flying on
high and red fur
prowls near-by; 
he needs to fool
both bird and dog.

The shells have now
turned a dark bluey
green, there’s an
infertile egg in the
This egg will be
food for his hungry
but he won’t eat or
drink, ‘til they
Each day he looks
up, and turns his
head to the sun as
it rises each
He’ll sit day and
night until the
time’s right.
He knows, that time
comes without

to be continued...

Copyright © J Eliza JAMES | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |

as a bird

Nice view if only it lingers
Hmmm catch me? You wish
I just crossed bar beach
It hasn’t changed a bit
Same volume of water and same colour as ever
Hope it tastes good too

The market is almost getting filled
Two more persons and it won’t contain
I see those women counting their losses and gain
And the robber laying wait beside the paths for their share to get
So they reap where they didn’t sow

Oh no the fields are on fire
I had hoped to break and take my lunch
But the farmers have gleaned and carried their bunches
Too bad they never had me at heart

Copyright © victor nwakanma | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

Non teter les enfants de la mer

Poème poète égyptien : Abdel Latif Moubarak

Traduction: Nuran Hourani


Votre terre;

Te jette.

sur l'aile d'un poème; tu repose

Peut etre ; ne pas égarer  de vous laisser tomber ...

Pays;  sur la porte de l'enfer même si elle semble

Quitte le !

Non bascule le tronc anti-paume

Parce qu'il tombe une datte dans votre main

promesses humides à ondulent Mer

Murmure  lui ...

La solidarite  psychologie de la situation.... peut-être

Pour vous tuer ...

votre terre

Te jette

assez arabisme Pas plus émis

Pour te nourir

Rêve flanqué plus sombre

Entre les frontières nocturnes

L'emigration a satisfait contente

L'aube de la douleur sera noir

Et vous qui

Je prends de la main de sainte

Cinder retenue taupe qui

Ne vous laisser tomber

Tu assoie de bon voisinage de ton ame

Et tu brulle

Ce que je vous souhaite la prédestination

Comme si elles étaient des bonbons, qui

Oh ; mon fils :elle tombe

De votre bouche

Le mer ; jamais nourrit ses enfants

Mon amour va dormir

Il est le paradis de la plus haute immortalisée

Un faut miel

Nous sentons comme un tembau qui a enquêté sur les occupants

Et la grossesse charge cache dans les lèvres

Une chanson de mélancolie d'enfance

Dors mon bien-aimé

Il est plus dans l'histoire

Est reconnu coupable d'innocence

Ou demande

C'est ca la miserable état

Non téter les enfants de la mer

comment if ya can,

Copyright © Abdel latif Moubarak | Year Posted 2016