-A poet in heat-
Ink carries its own tale,
When moonshine intoxicates your pen
Bottles of ink fill your mind
Composing symphonies on every line
Drops of passion all over the mask you wear
Nothing compares to black stains and broken nails
This part of you
"A CAN'T BE REMOVED" tattoo
The tough skin you'll ever live in
Fountain pens of split identities
Who Are You?
Sinking words like no other
Poisoned ink piercing every rhyme
Inferior poet, making the heart pure
Anger plus anger "GIVE ME MORE!"
You have a desire to paint all day,
Breathing and beating in every way
Toxic lines, from which ink flows
Inhaling images from the world
Deep and cold sorrowed emotions
True love is always easy to poetize
Dear Poet: "Ink Never Lies."
Pretty pink acrostic ink when she's nearby
Sugar and salt, Epic taste of reality
Ballads sang under the full moon
Sunny Sonnets, on any rainy day
Ode's of rivers from your past
A dark smile jotting down memory lane
Monologue tears brought under pressure
Loading cartridges of fresh Senryu and Haiku"
Dramatic red runs through your veins when all is done
Unfolding old and new propaganda's
POET: You are my favorite verse in every stanza
((Only this, and nothing more))
Writing is like giving birth
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013
There's Danny with his love light burning,
Then Victor with his soulful yearning.
Jan makes us laugh with wit and delight,
Armand serenades us all through the night.
Andrea writes well in every form,
And CayCay follows above the norm.
Nette's brilliance is beyond the stars
And John is the magistrate on Mars!
Paloma, Alexis, Jo, Sun, Eve and Judy
All express poems with so much beauty.
Constance expresses through winning tears,
Linda and Skat write beyond their years.
Sandra, Barbara and Carol always impress.
Jean, Joyce and Laurie bring us happiness.
I must not forget Robert, Lin or Viv
Great prolific gems are what they give.
Probir, Teppo, Silent, Laura and Afolabi
Write gifts that always inspire me.
Daver and Peter levitate lines,
Their brilliant poetry always shines.
And Demetrios, Carrie and Chris
Create poems that enchant me with bliss.
Ilene and Lainey inspire me too
Eileen lights fires, even when blue.
Harry, Freddie and Jack of words never lack
And Ravi and Kash are right on track.
Arthur and Vie will share their minds eye
While Anne-Lise's words float high in the sky.
Tim, Joe and Phillip set the bar high.
They with Emile, where romance does lie.
Nicola and SuZ dames in their own class
Revered with Paul and Scott amidst the mass.
Kim with her contests, how they inspire,
Those who enter with joys they desire.
Shadow and Janis unique they are,
Casarah too, glimmers like a star.
Vlad (Mike) the romantic, towers above,
Sharing with ladies his gifts of love!
I know there's many I have left out
Please know you're not slighted, without a doubt.
© Connie Marcum Wong
November 28, 2016 Poem of the Day
Note: I went way over the limit for Andrea's Contest
so I couldn't enter.
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2016
SOME STARS SHINE BRIGHTER
Some stars shine brighter
Some waves crash stronger
Some winds blow warmer
Some days are lovelier
Some friendships are eternal...
During our lives we meet a lot of people
But some will conquer a special place in our hearts
They'll be the ones for whom
We'll fight a little harder
We'll cry a little stronger
We'll cheer a little louder
We'll worry a lot over
They are the ones
That will always be there for you
Laughing with your happiness
Holding you during your tears
Some are in the same city
Others on a continent away
The distance doesn't matter
For we carry them always
In our minds and in our hearts
So they're never really far away from our thoughts
So my dear and sweet friend
Thank you for allowing me in your life
For always be there for me
Thanks for being my rock
You've a heart of gold
The most beautiful soul
Your light shine thru your poems
Your care and attention thru your words
I'll be always here for you too
Cheering for you every step of your way...
Take care of yourself and come back to us fast...
And... never forget...
To just be yourself
Because you're simply perfect
Just the way you are...
...and very much loved, my dear friend...
Love you, Darren
March 28th, 2017
Copyright © Claudia Polydoro | Year Posted 2017
Sitting by her open window,
Was a girl deep in thought,
Lost within a book of Poe,
A perfect poem she sought.
With a curious eye,
He watches her pen,
For she gives it a try,
Every now and then.
He will visit her forevermore,
In silent hours of midnight,
Casting his shadow on her floor,
Within the full moonlight.
Mysterious, nocturnal bird,
Calling out to darkened land,
Speaking such wise word,
Which I cannot understand.
I am lonely, I must confess,
It's just you, me and the moon,
You are much like me, I guess,
So, please sing me another tune.
A messenger of death,
Wailing songs of a banshee,
Has my grim reaper cometh,
Was this warning meant for me?
My soul was projected,
In the shadow of a fowl,
A raven I had expected,
Not the silhouette of an owl!
Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2013
To single out special people on soup is such a hard task
So many people have helped me, so it’s a really big ask
I discovered on soup there is an angel without wings
Her name is FJ Thomas and her praises I’ll gladly sing
A month after I joined soup an e-mail appeared
It said I was a ‘Premium Member’ it was so weird
I contacted soup said a mistake has been made
I’m a Premium Member … but I haven’t paid
They said the donor of my gift didn’t wish to be named
But I had no way to thank them, I felt so ashamed
I wrote a thank you poem so that they would know
Someone made it a favourite – but their name didn’t show
I later learned it was FJ Thomas, but by then she’d left the site
I wanted to make her proud of me, so I tried very hard to write
I’d not written a poem for many years,not since I was at school
Began writing when my hubby got cancer – a disease so cruel
Flo’s gift to a complete stranger meant the whole world to me
Writing became my lifeline I hope I’ve used her gift wisely
Since joining soup I began to collaborate
You really should try it - it really is great
Teamed up with a guy called Darren Watson
His sense of humour was awesome oh boy we had some fun
I was a complete beginner and Darren encouraged me
Telling me how well I wrote and he loved my creativity
We began to collaborate as Jadazzle United
Our friendship blossomed, we were simply delighted
E mails would fly and my self confidence soared
With Darren around there was no time to be bored
My world was shattered when dad was diagnosed with cancer
Darren was there to comfort me, often with a witty answer
Sadly Darren became ill and our writing came to an end
I spent many many weeks trying to trace my lovely friend
Contact was established with his family and after over a year
I got an e mail from Darren, I was overjoyed to hear
Darren’s positivity for the future gave my heart a lift
Our friendship is so precious just like a priceless gift
We’ve both had ups and downs in our lives recently
We're writing together again and we’re as happy as can be
Contest:- Poetry Soup Heroes
Sponsor Catie Lindsey
My Poetry Soup heros
F J Thomas
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015
There comes a time in our life
when we simply "must let go"
hoping that encouragement
has been our chance to show
That childhood must not remain
embedded in your mind
You are so much older now
and in this chance you'll find
A new life does await you
in the days of warmth and night
for by your coming home
That makes everything so "write"!
Edwin seems to have disappeared again
I pray he is not lost in depression
Copyright © Judy Konos | Year Posted 2015
The other day, I was visiting the home page at Poetry Soup
and noticed a picture of a guy named Willie Shakespeare
His poems are okay but I found his plays a bit hard to follow
For example: “To be or not to not to be: That is the question”
Really Billy? I mean you either IS or you AIN’T right?
SO, I commented on some of his poems just to encourage him
and guess what? Not ONE-SINGLE-COMMENT in return!
I even tried Soup Mail offering kind, polite advice and critique
No dice! Zilch! Zero! Perhaps it was the style tips I suggested?
That collar's gotta go...Can you IMAGINE in the midst of summer?
I am now convinced that ego and resentment were involved
So I decided to try Eddie Poe and honestly? His stuff is WEIRD
and Ed, I hate to break this to you but: Ravens don't talk
Did the same with Bobby Frost, Benny Johnson and some others
Same old song and waltz, not a peep out of a single ONE of them
To top it off, I Souped Emmy Dickinson (I wanted to ask her out)
I suggested that she might want to edit the first line of her poem from:
“I dreaded that first robin so" to:
“I dreaded that first robin like you wouldn’t BELIEVE”
Her silence was deafening.
Just who do these people think the ARE?
Light bulb! Now I know why PS crams them all together on the right hand end.
They feel sorry for these poet wanna-be’s, but not ME. I will continue to mentor
Copyright © Tim Ryerson | Year Posted 2015
I write of a man named Edgar Allan Poe,
Whose dark, tortured soul could not rest,
His work is something every poet should know,
These stories are among some of the best.
"The Raven" was never more ghastly and grim,
"The Pit And The Pendulum" which tortured him,
"The Valley Of Unrest" was such a quiet place,
Where "The Sleeper" dreams in peaceful grace,
"The Murders In The Rue Morgue" were a mystery,
"The Fall Of The House Of Usher" had a gloomy history,
"The Black Cat" was dead, but suffered no pain,
"The Tell-Tale Heart" is what drove him insane,
"The Masque Of The Red Death" did conceal,
While "The Purloined Letter" did reveal,
"The Premature Burial" meant for the dead,
"Annabel Lee" was the corpse bride he wed,
"Spirits Of The Dead" found themselves alone,
"The Conqueror Worm" that fed on human bone,
"The Haunted Palace" was wandered by ghosts,
"Tamerlane" written for one he loved the most.
As the poetry flowed from his heart,
One tragic day, death came to his door,
Finally his tortured soul could depart,
He would then pick up his pen, nevermore.
Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2013
I post my poems on poetry soup
About farting and guys with brewer’s droop
I’ve been given a crown
And I won’t let Flo down
Be assured I’ll keep on posting my poop!
Posted in conjunction with my blog about my amazing gifts from F J Thomas
25th January 2017
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2017
THE LEGEND...ELVIS PRESLEY
(I dedicate this poem to all
the true Elvis Presley fans
around the world. God Bless
you Elvis Presley - the KING.)
Waiting in the wings
just to go out and
I glance on down at
my white shoes - and
all my fancy bling.
Nervous I am - as the
people shout real
Sounds like a dream
come true - oh what a
Suddenly like a king -
I walk sternly onto
the stage -
Unleashing my songs
to the crowd - like an
animal from a cage!
My hair jet black - and
my suit virgin white,
I am so very nervous -
but I will be alright.
I throw my guitar around
my neck to play,
Now I'll let rip - I now feel
Strumming the guitar is
what I do kike to do -
But singing my songs - is
what I'll do for you.
Shaking my leg - and
singing out loud -
The noise is awesome -
coming from the crowd.
I feel like the king - the
king that I am -
Who would have thought
this - straight from my
My name is Elvis Presley,
and I will always be here,
Because without a song -
you might just shed a tear.
I watch from the heaven's,
as paradise is my new
But no one can take my
crown away - as I wear it
here - it is known.
I now sing with the angels
as they really are magical -
So from Elvis Presley - I
now bow out - and in heaven,
it is so special.
I'm with my mom and dad,
and also twin brother, Jessie,
We are all so happy now -
at peace, and oh so happy.
God bless the king - king
We will never forget you -
you are the king...OKAY.
You are now a legend - and
you always will be to the
The legend Elvis Presley -
the story will be told.
You were sadly taken from
us - and taken much too
But when the women saw
you - all they did was swoon!
I end my little tribute - and
now I do salute you,
God bless you, Elvis Presley -
you are the king - to true.
Copyright © Darryl Ashton | Year Posted 2014
MY UKHT AL-KUBRA
I have one sister in my home
Sweet, loving, with open arms and heart
With dark brown eyes
And an inviting laugh
And a passion
I have a sister at Soup
Sweet, loving, with open arms and heart
Both my sisters are so different
Yet one thing is the same:
I love them both
With all of my heart.
My sister at home has her Arabic name.
My sister at Soup stil hasn't.
To me she is an inspiration.
So, my dear inspirational sister,
Below your name in my language:
ILHAME - INSPIRATION
The picture is Ilhame in Arabic calligraphy
Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2016
When he played his violin magic took place!
A sense of serenity shown on his face.
A lover of music so gifted in art...
A teacher to many, known for his sweet heart.
Poetry would become his passion, his need...
A master of poetry in the words that he freed.
The strings are now quiet with music no more.
Still students recall the teacher they adore.
His words we can cherish with fond memories...
A legacy of gems for new reveries.
© Connie Marcum Wong
Bittersweet Contest - 6th placement out of 6
Sponsor Kevin Shaw
*Dedicated to my dear friend and late poet, David Austin
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2017
In advance, I wish to heal the mind, body, and soul
Thanking all God's creatures
Coating all my expressions from-
-Yesterday, today, and tomorrow
Conceal every worry,
Focus on the goodness that fills my spirit with thankfulness
And, well, honored comments.
This is a rich tribute to:
All Poetry Soup Poets, with grateful and appreciating hearts
Enjoy the time, you give each and every Poets
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013
A solitary piece the diamond
precious rare gem most treasured
by those lucky enough to hold
Once in possession it is rarely out of grasp
Like the gemstone the mother
requires very specific conditions
in holding fast her (family/) childrens love
Treasured forever in her heart
she will go out of her way
to preen and protect them
holding them dear to her
deep within her maternal safe – the heart
closely guarded by the mind
Her infatuation of all treasures to her
are totally understandable
especially when you think to the complexity
of structure and process taken in creation
Just as from the ‘unbreakable’ in ancient greek
this allotrope of carbon
with strength of bonding between atoms
is representative of that strong love
between mum and child
The maternal being could be compared
to the superlative physical qualities of the stone
Even the characteristic luster
of this gem so prevalent from its ability
to disperse light and colour
compared to the many strengths
roles and qualities of the mother
seen by the many she deals with daily
A most high pressured job
versus the high pressured temperature
within the Earths mantle
that forms the delightful rock it gives birth to
Infants delight and ignite the forbearer
just as the jewel would dazzle the room
a mother’s love encaptures the magical luster
of those she’s birthed and nothing
stands inbetween this richest of cargo’s
Copyright © Anna-Marie Docherty | Year Posted 2013
I know a very fine poet, a dear colleague, who’s so exquisitely talented and bright,
And has a superb facility with words and themes making all fit perfect and right;
She has an unrivaled mastery of the poetic art and writes with the best approach,
And has an unparalleled ability to write the finest verse beyond any reproach.
This poet’s sense of depth, empathy, and poetic variety is quite splendid to behold,
And she brings such compassion and power to her work worth its weight in gold;
With well-conceived themes and images she invites readers to her special dimension,
While enchanting them magically with sublime verses and holding their attention.
This poet communes with Our Poetry Muse, seeking her scope and enchanted vision,
And shares amply all with her readers with enraptured intent and a perfect precision.
Our friend’s poetry reflects always the human dynamic with such power and grace,
And she finds the right tone, tenor, pitch and rhyme—putting them in proper place.
I must say I’m very proud of our colleague’s work and appreciate so her fine poetry,
And I’m so glad she’s with us and gives us such beauty and elegance in her poetry!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, Schoeningen, Germany
(November 9, 2014) (Shakespearean Sonnet in a Rhyme poetic format)
*****Written for the “It’s All About Me Contest,” December 4, 2014*****
Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2014
When I sit still and calmly read the works of Poets True
It is nice to know I'm not alone because of all of you
There are stories being told here in such different forms and ways
We have happy times, some joy and pain, and some for special days
There are some who write in Haiku, there are those who love Quatrain
We have those who write sweet Sonnets telling us about the rain
But we also have some Poets True who write as though they sing
With a Rhyme Royal or Limerick that will cause your ears to ring
How about the Free Verse Poets and the Funny Poets too
Those Acrostics and the Metaphors that can help the sun shine through
There are Ballad Poems and Lyrics truly wonderful to find
And the Epic Poems and Tanka's that will stir things in your mind
On a quiet night with softened light we'll read an Ode or two
Or a Villanelle or Couplet that someone has shared with you
What about those Nature Poets who can rhyme about the Earth
How the flowers grow in colors even different kinds of dirt
We have those who write of waterfalls; and sounds that fill the air;
Of deep mysteries and great mercies that reveal how we should share
Some are Kyrielles and Kwansabas that find their way to you
Those Alliteration Poets can help you think of things to do
We have Poets True from nations far that share the things they see
There are dreamers here with mighty words that say we can be free
We read Love Poems so sweetly said they cause your heart to melt
They will talk of Love lost or Love found that's truly deeply felt
Well, I could go on forever speaking of the Poems found
Here on Poetry Soup with you and these true treasures that abound
But I guess I'll stop and thank you all for sharing what you do
And I'll say right here that we are blessed - We all are Poets True!
Copyright © Neva Romaine | Year Posted 2014
The other me you'd be quite surprised
She wears high heels, makes up her eyes
she parades around, singing lively songs
telling bawdy jokes where she belongs
Upon the stage, she's not alone
for in that bar, the stage, her home.
Dressed head to foot in sequinned gowns
the punters watch her earn her crown.
The greatest sight they've ever seen,
to them she is, the peoples 'queen'.
Every night there in that bar,
They come to watch her, she's the star.
She gives the punters what they want
Singing lively songs, to which they chant.
Then when it's time to close the doors,
she exits with rapturous applause.
They clap and shout and scream her name,
She revels in that loving fame.
When the show is o'er and done,
she's back to where she first begun.
She removes her wig, takes off her makeup,
and now it's time for him to wake up.
Oh there he is, where has he been?
pretending to be the people's queen.
It's back to some normality,
is she a he?, or he a she?
You see, the answer is quite clear,
She's a he and he's a queer.
Earning cash from having toiled
in late night bars,
burning midnight oil.
Copyright © carl onwochei | Year Posted 2015
An eloquent lady named Kim
works her Words at the Poetry gym
Limericks put on mass
while Haiku takes spin class
and her Couplets are healthy and trim!
This limerick was written for my
Soup buddy Kim Patrice Nunez.
Thanks for your positive input
and excellent support. Hugz!
Copyright © Lycia Harding | Year Posted 2015
She is the mother of every poor people, injured people, ordinary people...
Always we remember the great news
'Mother Teresa will get the Nobel Peace Prize.'
It was one of the best moment in our life...
She lived in our city Kolkata (Calcutta) .
She ate our Bengali foods.
She loved us so much...
One day, I was twelve years old
I met her at Mother House along with my parents.
I looked at her heavenly eyes.
I touched her sacred feet and hands.
I heard her divine speeches.
I love her innocent smile.
I told her only the sentences,
'You are the mother of the world,
Mother of my parents.
So you are my grandmother.'
My father hesitated. My mother was silent.
Mother Teresa said to me with smile,
'GOD BLESS YOU MY SON'
Today my eyes are full of tears
Mother, I miss you.
I love you so much....
SANDIP GOSWAMI, INDIA
(Mother Teresa founded the Missionaries of Charity, a Roman Catholic religious congregation, which in 2012 consisted of over 4,500 sisters and is active in 133 countries. They run hospices and homes for people with HIV/AIDS, leprosy and tuberculosis; soup kitchens; dispensaries and mobile clinics; children's and family counselling programmes; orphanages; and schools. Members of the institute must adhere to the vows of chastity, poverty and obedience, and the fourth vow, to give "wholehearted free service to the poorest of the poor".
Mother Teresa was the recipient of numerous honours including the 1979 Nobel Peace Prize. In 2003, she was beatified as "Blessed Teresa of Calcutta". A second miracle credited to her intercession is required before she can be recognised as a saint by the Catholic Church.)
Copyright © Sandip Goswami | Year Posted 2014
on small island
lives the lovely poet
inspired to her poetry
by good deeds and humor
and grace of expression
Copyright © Thomas Martin | Year Posted 2015
Of the many stars I have seen,
Justin, you are by far the most exquisite
I love how you just mold into my heart,
Sifting the words we share part by part,
Lighting the path to inspiration,
Attaining your lightning connotation
I love how you relate to my struggles,
Allowing my feet to rest on your gentle wings,
How your loving eyes look in-between the lines,
To see inside such poetry, the divine intertwine
You do not waste your time in the sky,
Rising every moment in your heightening knowledge
You burn brighter for what matters
You hold tighter to the light with gladness,
And you are not afraid in the prowling wilderness
You are never afraid to express your genius
Long ago, I had wandered in the haze of many a soul
Closed and withdrawn in the strolls of dark foes
In your luminous presence, you awakened this dreamer
My eyes widening in the unity of word-weavers
To access your bloom was to shatter all doom
And in awe, I aspired to be a part of you
I love that you care of my virtues,
How you give and give tremendously
How we understand each other in synchronizing energy out of this world
I love that you will feel my heart, as I do yours
I will love these truths forevermore
A tribute to this burning star is never enough
You have inspired me beyond what I can see
Beyond what dreams a dreamer be
And for that, I must thank you,
As you persevere in your incomparable brightness
To illuminate my path, and our paths,
Into the extraordinary, eternal unearthing of fate, fervor and fortune
For the “Tribute: Poetry Contest”
Sponsored by The Silent One
August 4th, 2015
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2015
oh what a wonderful group we make
as we pen our poems and take a break
our traits range from weird to strange
in all probability certifiably deranged
leaving legacies of genius in our wake
Copyright © Kim van Breda | Year Posted 2014
'' I love my country! I love my India! "
We hear slogans loud and clear,
On 15th August, on 26th January,
When the days of celebrations are near.
Where do these promises die?
Are these patriotic feelings a lie?
Or just to make an impression,
And snap pictures as tri-colors fly.
Apart from these days,do we see the need?
To apply these emotions, do we pay the heed?
Or just a way to celebrate something,
Like every other event and gathering.
Remember that ugly era,
Where days were like nights,
Where no one was allowed to dream,
And were suppressed when there were fights.
Remember the atrocities against which,
Our previous generations suffered,
The whips from the '' Outsiders''
When rejected '' Their '' rules offered,
From heinous crimes against goodwill,
" Jallian wala bagh" to "Simon go back!",
After so much struggle and so much pain,
To fight for freedom which we lacked!
Sacrifices which cannot be measured,
Patriotism where sky is the limit,
Refusing the injustice and opposing the system,
To free the country from the"foreign" hit.
Gandhi, Nehru, Patel or Bose,
Difference in name, feelings the same,
Salute everyone and the sky glows,
With only respect and not due to fame.
Why do we forget our history of freedom?
How can we not respect and honor its prestige?
And witness our nation in such a dirt?
Of politics, corruption, crime in fatigue?
Why not raise your voice?
Against these social evil deeds?
And give our patriotism meaning,
To the nation on which we feed.
Its October 2nd some days from now,
And no one would admire Gandhi's work,
A formality completed, a speech given,
While actual celebrations are somewhere in cirque,
Friday it is, the new film day,
And We ll watch movies in this holiday,
Give a thought to what you do,
Give a sense to what you say,
Slogans and tricolor turbans wont help,
If country's rising generation is watching movies in national holiday,
Be responsible and step up for the nation,
And make it a country, you can be proud of,
Where women are respected not only on women's day,
But with true sense of love in each and every way.
Copyright © Suraj Grover | Year Posted 2014
Poetic forms are special tools for me;
their rhythmic patterns mold words into shape.
Like guarded gates, they hold the imagery
and keep it tight so it does not escape.
There are so many types from which to choose—
but strict iambic forms do challenge me.
Without construction, words sometimes confuse;
strong rhyme and meter shape my poetry.
A small iambic form that shines the best—
the Sonnet is a perfect writing scheme.
Its octave sets the stage, then sestet next
delivers firm reaction to the theme.
The ending couplet with conclusion's thought
sums up emotions or an answer sought.
Sandra M. Haight
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2015
for in the end we are all broken
stumbling and choking
thinker poet storyteller
a deep insight into
suffering and life
the homeless and the outcast
no matter creed color rich or poor
beneath the surface to the soul
thinker poet storyteller
makes us stop and ponder our life
in his own words
GOD is a source of
all our creativity
we are radios
of a sort
and if we
to the right channel
we can access the message
his poems well expressed powerful
he has a message to tell
GOD is good
tough themes broken lifes
straight from the heart
write with depth
be unique and genuine
he inspires us to write
and in the end
we are all broken
and choking and disguising
our hurts Richard
thanks for the compassion
your share your thoughts with us
September 2, 2015
Inspiration - Broken People written by Richard Lamoureux
and the line - for in the end we are all broken stumbling and choking disguising hurt
For the contest, Who Do You Think I Am, sponsor, Richard Lamoureux
Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2015
How silly of you
to think you are silly!
Do you think folks just visit your page
Does one come for the show
and leave with all forgotten?
To think this is so
is really quite wanton.
It is too linger in the mouth,
to be savored through out the day.
Uncensored and full of life,
let the pieces fall where they may!
Could it be, Eileen,
that people don't just stop for the rhymes.
But maybe because
through your poems, they see a beautiful mind?
Could it be perchance,
they long for a dance,
through the avenues of a peculiar soul
that isn't copy-and-paste,
without frills and waste,
but in fact is part of the greater whole?
We see glimpses now and then
through your ink and through your pen.
But don't go on believing
that you've let the cat out of the bag, just yet.
(This is Eileen Ghali, after all ... lest we forget!)
In response to Must It Be For Contest.
Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016
Casanova's not who you think he is...
One simple google click
will nullify his bliss.
There's much more to
A fake glitch
flash in the pan
don't make me beg
an' expose that pathetic man's
Cracker Jack Prozac plan
C'mon baby, phenol Barbie Doll
don't keep makin' same mistakes
believin' his B.S. trip and falls.
Manic Queen of depression,
leave old Papa Wheelie alone
his words are Romeo sweet
yet his lies are overgrown.
*credit artists Marilyn Manson, Twiggy Ramirez, and Zim Zum for
terms "Phenol Barbie Doll, Manic Queen of Depression"-- taken from
Song, "Mechanical Animals" off album "Mechanical Animals" by Marilyn
Manson Nothing/Interscope Records 1998
Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO | Year Posted 2014
my father always told me
"son don't go breaking no hearts
if you cant take her to the finish line
then don't go making any false starts
don't take a woman hearts for granted
treat her with kindness and respect
make her feel special and wanted
never make her cry and feel neglect
for god created woman as a gift
for man to honor ,cherish and love
they are our heaven on earth
our beautiful angel from above
the magical wonders of a woman
has no limits or boundaries to retrieve
with a good woman besides you
"son "there's nothing that you cant achieve
the words my father has spoken
it has never left my ears
and his wisdom and understanding
I carry with me through out the years
one day i will find a good woman
and i will ask her to be my wife
and i shall treat her like a princess
love and cherish her for the rest of her life
the woman who gets my heart
will own it from now and forever
and i will fill her life with happiness
every second that we spend together
and i will take her to Trinidad and Tobago
Trinidad is the country where i was born
and will introduce her to all the tasty dishes
and see the sunrise at the break of dawn
and we will take walks on the beach
holding hands under the moonlight
and if the sea breeze makes her cold
i will hold her in my arms all night
yes the woman that i will love
will be the queen of all queens
the diamond of all diamonds
the wish of my every dreams
until i meet this beautiful woman
who will be the one to share my life
i will continue to write my poems
knowing one day my angel will arrive
and will cover me with her love
like the sun over the the seven seas
as my father looks down from heaven
proud of the man that i have come to be
Copyright © kasim ishmael | Year Posted 2014
Shakespeare, your words are interlaced with mine
With brilliant words of wit I choose from verse,
Yet I could never write near as divine.
Many have tried and failed... a poet’s curse.
You’ve set the bar beyond clouds in the skies.
Your clever words rain down as crystal tears.
My breath released in awe inspired sighs,
I marvel their relevance all these years.
I know your image like I know my own,
Your high forehead, your dashing bearded face.
How fond of your written verse I have grown,
Your clever lines share elegance and grace.
You will forever have my loyalty,
As you inspire all my poetry!
© Nov. 3, 2016
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2016
When I joined soup they rolled out the welcome mat
Anne-Lise, Poet Destroyer and her lovely sister Skat
I felt so excited that my poem had been read -
As the idea of posting had filled me with dread!
They all work so hard to build a community
To welcome new people who write poetry
There are many other people I would love to mention
But I’ve only ten lines; Andrea won’t give an extension!
Thank you to all who have helped me on my way
And with luck I may write a decent poem one day!
Contest Community Builders Free for all contest
Sponsored by Andrea Dietrich
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016