Verse Inspirational Poems

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Details | Free verse |
   Partial Paper
 -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




Details | Free verse |
The powdery snow gloves the fingers 
of maple forest, protecting barren bark 
with the expectation of rose tipped bloom.

A meeting point between pristine
innocence and the veiled promise of spring
ripening. Each trunk and limb mirrors 

the action of man. Reaching, arching, 
swaying, creating aisles of church-like splendor, 
a sacrament where the virginal may walk

toward communion with their God. Inward 
toward the birth of faith and outward toward 
the wedgwood sky in celestial sight.

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse |
The Park Bench

I wish I was a poet
With magical words
To make people see all of the absurd
Tears fly, paintings in pastel die

When we look into our mirrors
We sometimes miss
What love dumps upon all of us
We shed tears, for we forgot to shed fears

I have no legs, nor any crutches
So my voyage has ended
I only observe
Sadness upended

When goodness is confused
When gestures are refused
When the kiss that could have been
When a poets tear seems obscene

The one who hears is often deaf
The deaf sometimes have nothing left
If I could give a kiss away
I would give it to lovers with hearts that sway

Drawing love on paper in may

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016




Details | Free verse |
Try
Try to live
Try to feel pain with no tears
Try to remember years past and often lost
Try, oh try to know life need not be cold as frost

Ear not the words of those proclaiming silence
Listen to the rhythmic melody; give voice to a new start
The world will follow when you sing from your heart
Believing in things that some may only try

Try, to see, the truth is musical to you and all of thee
Telling histories with music, as soothing as can be
When you sing, and when you inspire our romance
Ones on crutches, they too shall rise and dance

Try, I beg
To see as eye
Even the ear is lost in the sky
Purest of hearts, they never die

Note: If you cant open the video, as sometimes different Countries have different copyrights, just search YOUTUBE for "Mandy Harvey: Deaf Singer With Original TRY"

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |
I am the diamond
     that breathes 
     in your hands;
The fine lace to sway in
     breezes through windows
     as I crumble dedans la pirouette;
The cyclone, the earthquake,
     implosion of power
     in your arms.

          Spin me a room,
          Weave me a rainbow,
          Pull me to you and
          push me away.
          Burn me, absorb me.

I tumble, trip, fall, 
     to be lifted by you,
     elevated, levitated;
Finest rags, softest fringe,
     ripple around 
     last evening light;
Raise me slowly
     on tiptoes;
Rescue me, scream my name
     loud.

          Spin me your laughter,
          Catch me, don't drop me,
          Pull me to you,
          never push me away.
          Dance, don't stop.

Never stop.

***

May 10, 2017 
Copyright © Darren White

Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |
I speak my thoughts with gentleness The things I need to say with care Thoughts held in my hands, gone through my fingers, balanced on my fingertips... ... sent to my lips. I speak my words with thoughtfulness from my faltering tongue The air swaying rippling with meaningful sound I speak my words out loud, they land where I want them to bloom Sometimes as small white daisies Other times as beautiful blue thistles or roses. I watch them grow, my eyes follow their independent will and stubbornness With pride I stretch my hands to pick them and arrange... They grew on me. *** September 21, 2017 Copyright © Darren White

Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |
You entered my room
a long time ago
across many summers,
now when this winter looks
at the trees shedding the leaves
you are by the closed window
leaning on the cold wall
and I am by the fireplace,
your eyes on the cracking wood on fire
mine on the frosted window pane. 

Have you ever wondered
why my voice doesn’t reach you,
the words crash on the wall
and fall silent, that’s why.

Have you ever wondered
why my warmth doesn’t touch you,
the feelings brush the window pane
and freeze inert, that’s why.

Have you ever wondered
why my eyes don’t look into yours,
the vision is stuck on barren trees outside
and waits for the spring, that’s why.

Have you ever wondered 
why my hands can’t hold yours,
the reach is lost in distant time
and breaks separated, that’s why.

I have wondered
if I could break the cold wall
shatter the iced window pane 
make the trees green again
would my voice rise from the dust
the warmth of my mind melt the ice
my eyes bring colors of spring in yours,
would the time stop 
stop to create distance
and I could hold your hands again.

November 23, 2017.

Copyright © Subimal Sinha-Roy | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |
 
DEDICATED TO EVERY PERSON WHO QUESTIONED THEIR SELF WORTH BECAUSE SOMEONE THEY LOVED LEFT THEM Love grabbed me by the throat with both hands Choked away the doubt and hatred of broken bands Kicked me in the gut and flung me to the floor Stripped my ego and jolted my awareness at its core Cleared the cobwebs that once clouded my vision with strokes of a master nature painted my mission An oil based one of a kind classic My life written like a movie an epic Love lives in me again like a revelation amen Beauty, glows from every centimeter that is me hope hip hops in every stride as I walk briskly Music walks to my beat now I hear it everywhere and the bluest of skies high fives me bare A new love found a trust abound. for the first time in since I don’t know when my senses breathe the fresh view of now and then Blessed by the mother of all that lives Nature smiles on a union that always gives I love what I see Finally I love me! Armand

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |
(For my friend Aisling: da'iman 'amal) In the night that runs on fear, smile at me. When nightmares haunt, laugh at me. When demons show their ugly masks, beam at me. And always, ever have hope. When your head is so full it cascades, stare at stars. As thoughts spill ferociously, softly seek them. Forget thousands of misplaced words, see glimmers Of hope, always have hope. Days where you can't hear your thoughts, listen to music. Minutes failing to making sense, immerse in singing. 'Seconds' a word without meaning, tune in harmony. Believe in hope, there always is hope. When nothing rhymes, you almost lose it, In darker days, you cannot meet it, In doubt, despair, or anger, it will elope, But it will return, not ever lose hope! *** January 21, 2017

Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |
through a tiny lens
held firmly with hands
eyes gaze in awe..

with a simple twist
colours explode harmoniously
bright, sparkling,blinding..

the colours are stunning
so vivid, so alive
with truth as in life..

this ever changing vision
is but broken glass shards
not whole, not complete..

simple, plain, tiny pieces
they don't fit, they don't belong
different shades, different sizes..

fragmented, swirling on command
no direction,they stop; at one's touch
and through this seemingly disconnect..

therin lies their beauty
for these tiny glistening pieces
imperfect jewel tone shades, dance; together..

revealing the essence of life,
humanity and all who breathe
for they gloriously join; naturally..

to inspire joy, excitement, wonderment
the green piece could be a used wine bottle
tiny violet piece from a castaway vase..

regardless of their origin
these magnificant, illuminating pieces
unite as one and magically dance..

with truth as in life
beauty is as beauty does
fusing together, naturally, effortlessly..

kaleidoscope..

broken shards now glistening jewels
the spirit of every man, woman and child
is part of this most magical creation..

for every size, shape and gorgeous hue
is us; in every race, age & size
coming together, to create, to inspire..

tunnel vision seamlessly vanishes
as eyes are opened; captivated
at the wonderment, joy and harmony of..

becoming one; beautifully and with faith..

kaleidoscope.

Copyright © Lynn Marie | Year Posted 2006

Details | Free verse |
-Dear, Mr & Mrs Poet- 

Do you ever question where it comes from?
This poem's about you, sit down and get a load off 
Tranquilize your pen, take heed to the ecstatic applause 

The things in life we take for granting, in time get worse 
From WHICH' our lives transverse, ascends a deep poetic curse 
You write almost everything, rehearsing every living verse 
Embezzling words, like Martha Stewart, ---NOT YOURS!
Withdrawing from your substance, 
--yielding it to others, who aren't devoted lovers 
Spacing your lines, ready for reader's digest, 
Educating the mind, like Albert Einstein

You paint a different horizon for the color blind,
Drop a note, forecasting the news, that brings, Spring to mind
Your adrenaline, leaves people with a feel good faint.
At this level, Poet you're better than high speed Internet,
Anything that makes you feel this is the real deal, 
Today, you write like there's no tomorrow, borrowing yesterday's clay
Inspiring ink, left to right, feeding the need to breed a poetic degree 
Your dramatic dialogue, deserve 'The Peoples Choice award."

I love the sweet audio, when you lowercase every word
It's done so well, hell, let's never capitalize another word
Reaching a point across, when capitalizing every letter, 
This is your world, take it, manipulate it, with the perfect stanza
Produce it like a poetic film, imagery, action, CUT it like Jerry Bruckheimer 
One day Hollywood will incite a roll, looking for the best poetry soup rhymer

Your tears and affection, you pour on partial paper,
Showing every word you want to enunciate
A SHOULDER-- gone cold, drowning, forgetting the normal way
Writing about the pure religion that meets your light, 
A beautiful flower under the moonlight
Hear the bells, Poe wrote about, adding sprinkles to the twinkle in your eyes, 
A redolent scent not meant to be forgotten, from Eden's garden
Taking nature, by course, granting her a crown, before slamming us down
I will call her out --The evil and the fury of a goddess, a beast
This is my feast, I welcome you to my jungle, and the outer bounds of time.

If you ever question where it comes from?
Sit down and get a load off, listen---Where's the ecstatic applause?
I'm not afraid to say, -----I'm Proud to be A Poet Without A Cause

by;PD
I do it for fun

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |
Walls of silence hold,
 Me prisoner,
The child held within,
 Cries out for release.
Relative solitude comforts, 
Not the tortured soul,
Inward coiling withdrawing,
 Deep inside. 
Shedding its outer skins,
 Protective
Layer thus preserving its,
 Inner being.
Innocents shroud lies in ruins.
Gentle spirit, cast aside wings,
 Damaged appendages.
The fallen angel kneels in,
 Shame,
Shadows before mankind.
Unanswered prays rest upon,
 Deaf ears.
Muted sobs, echo on stilled,
 Winds breath.
Hardening to stone, the
 Chilled heart
 Reflects frozen repose.
Forgotten amongst mine own,
 Kindred,
Childhood symbolizes a betrayed,
 Victim’s refuge.
Small fragile hands reach out,
 Into nothingness,
Hollow space grasping into,
 Oblivion.
Chained shackles twist,
 Imaginations warped view,
Somber tones cloud troubled,
 Thoughts.
Amidst life's trials, I'm aimlessly,
 Adrift,
Without any form of stability.
I, alone remain shambles,
 Wreckage.
Displaced and damaged,
Beyond repair.
A broken doll thrown away,
By those who should have, 
Cared for her the most.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
A strange claim
Of a man of passion
Of kindness
He said
Let the children come to me
For what man would refuse the smile
The innocence of a child
He parted his kindness
His wisdom
His love of all tribes
Animal and man, felt the kindness of his eyes

His tears grew this world
His voice made all of us listen
He made fisherman, philosophers
He made masons run free
He sang to ladies of the night
With the wine from wells of passion
Caliphs and Abu Nuwas soon followed

Love belongs to no one tribe
No sect or religion
It’s the flower that seed's travels the globe
Like feathers floating in the wind

When you see a child with no food
A woman with no smile
A man with no home

You make a balloon or funny face
You grow a rose
You build a hut

Trust in the kindness underneath
It will kiss you on your death bed
You shall rise to the heavens
Knowing

You loved the universe




Notes: This is one poem that for sure can be peeled like an onion. First of all, I am working on a poem based on historical fact, and documents from the Vatican, that will serve no other purpose than to tell an age old story. Yes part of it takes place in current day Turkey.

Second, I have a friend who resides in Turkey, and we met over the internet, and over the years, have become friends. I know him to be kind, to all people and animals. We are simply friends that have shared stories, laughter, and hardships at times. Whether someone  lives next door or half way around the world, true friendship and honor is hard to find. You can not give it or receive it. You can only both earn it over time.

No man is perfect, we are what we are, but when you see a world in turmoil, as we do these days, maybe this small event or moment carries weight. I myself am not so nice. So then I must say this, My friend Volkan is, not to me, but to countless people. A smile and kindness costs nothing, and the world needs more of this richness. 

Everyone these days talks of how technology is ripping apart society and this may well be true, but this is a choice we all make, technology is merely a tool. One can also use it to build bridges and friendships. 

Normally I would be shy to give such praise, however events have taught me that, its better to speak good words than be silent.

Thank you, for helping building a better world!

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

Madame Mistress, ebonies princess,
Southern comforts golden jewel,
A golden beauty down south does dwell.
She hides many secrets beneath her,
Glittering mask of mystery's mystic spells.
A dark priestess is this Cajun queen,
Black widows magic women,
Known as Ms. New Orleans.
In her crimson gown, trimmed by
Velvet's purple hues, she smiles
Behind her white lace fan.
A beguiling angel is she the devils
 Own kindred.
The voodoo queen of the swampy delta,
Ruling over the shadow demons,
Whom guard the everglades.
Underneath fancy face and social grace,
Lies the misbegotten heart of a
 Witches soul.
Here the trumpets sound at,
La Carnival as minstrels stroll,
Down Bourbon Street with rhythmic,
Precision's precise step.
Come join in celebrations grand parade,
The Maude Gra. Where anything goes,
Here things are forgotten as the sun rises,
This grand lady of beauty's legacy's charm.
Presses one finger to her redden lips,
Speaking not more than a hushed whispers
Sigh carried across bayou.
Thus does the Spanish moss weep, for
Those lost souls swallowed whole,
Beneath nights dark covenant of death.
Ghostly images walk the muddy side shores,
Phantom spectators existing as prisoners,
Trapped in limbos web, a thin fine line
Between the living and the dead.
Beware lone travelers, those for whom,
Seek mysteries glamor and mystic,
Of the southern by ways.
All are welcome to taste our spicy
Hospitality.
Yet beware pay homages respect,
To Mz. New Orleans, she after all takes
Great care of her own.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

 


Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |


in silence, we connect through gazes knitted by starlit eyes ablaze like dusk's luster wafting by the sill ... and we need not ramble in paraphrases of night’s canticle, while folded hands caress the rhythm of twilight's melody. how deftly breaths and fireglow understand our same tunes, our same wafting waves, gentle as paper- thin buds jutting out from your palms, my breasts… together, we feel the stillness of love from the same face, and if our flesh doesn’t chafe in the peeling of autumn’s chill , it’s because… we have been soul mates before time was ever born. SKAT's Contest: Your Best Love Poem 9/24/2014

Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |
A visitor— icicle fingers tapping on my windows' pain— white blanket in tow Hurting enough, I paid him no mind so he kept tap, tap, tapping ‘til cobweb-like cracks appeared: a final, gentle tap shatters my windows My rainbow world now smothered, pallid, forced into boredom and slumber, sunlight chased away and I am never the same again… Soul gets plunged deep in the cold blinded by whiteness, numbed with simplicity there is an eerie stillness, almost as if no one dared to breathe, even the barren trees refused to quiver brittle dendrites seem to claw the sky futile though, for they are frozen, grasping at nothingness, clouds stubborn and stoic, brooding in silent grayness …and then from within, a filigreed whisper escapes palpable and brave~ it weaves its way through the branches, gathering strength wherever it went it beckons to the sky, which in turn gives in and celebrates ~ letting dainty confetti fall white, yet amazingly graceful each flake falls softly on the ground— a fashionable brocade trees softly sway now, and dance to a winter song the sky weeps with happiness for seeing a glimpse of life— diamond teardrops they catch a bit of evasive sunlight, of which I thought I’ve lost and give birth to miniature rainbows… all this time, Sunlight was there I just never knew how to catch it.
an audio of me reciting this poem http://www.4shared.com/music/Q_tqp2LEba/suncatcher.html?#

Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse |
When Do We Start To Live   Collaboration poem: Space Cadet and Darren White Voice: Wesley C.
How do I know we’ve lived?           If you’re certain then tell me when?           When? When have I lived?      Do I live now?           Is it the tap-tap of my hand against the window;           the drum played by my fingers on the chair?      Is it the slowed back-beat, or the snare drum speed,           under your hand at rest,           on my chest,           in this 2 AM discotheque. How do we know we’ve lived?      Is it a faint notion, or         movement in my legs:         A lotus reed on my calves         I'd never felt until it tickled me? How do I know I’m still alive?      Is it when the ice-blue swaddles          me in abyss, of          inky darkness?      Or when I’m a borne flutter of this butterfly          crinkled away in my chest          cavity?      Or as sun rays play          with light and words that tumble,          crumble, and fall to pieces,          in their own stubborn way,          here,          on this paper?      Is it found in a friend’s voice          that pulls me from dark,          penetrates a radiance inward,          up from me, out,          to my face,          ablaze with why I'm here to exist?

Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2016

Details | Verse |
I am the ring around Saturn
spinning words as particles of ice and dust
with the power to transcend

I am the original chosen to be right here right now
transmitting verbal frequencies 
through speaking my thoughts into existence

I am the heir of omnipotence,
born with a direct connection to profound abundance 
The one whose words will age, yet still have substance;
since there are no boundaries attached to my pen

I am constant energy
Translating personal experience into imagery 
Vulnerable to tyranny,
yet i continue attempting to share some truth
through this abstract language of poetry

I am the core
I am that I am more
I am the Divine Presence that is the Source of my rewards

I am the green you get when you mix too much yellow with the blue
That shade of gold you get when the sun resides into darkness
and when it ascends in the dawn burning dew
I am the transition between the third and fourth dimension of time;
the love you feel when you realize how it feels

I am the poem that is abstractly direct
because I write beyond limits
absorbing frequencies from 3 to 8 hertz
through meditation for several minutes
I am the one bridging the gap between
the analog ascension and the direct connection to spirit
The one who is love
because I am a descendent  of it

I am the rhythm that the wind blows
I am the beginning and the ending of stories told
about the universe and how miracles unfold
I hold the power to accept judgement from those who will do just that
Not knowing that I am them in the absolute reality of me
Judge that

I am knowledge beyond measure because that is my right
So I continue meeting the different parts of me
when I meditate and write
Who am I?
I AM, THAT, I AM


Copyright © humble b | Year Posted 2012

Details | Verse |
It's so simple,
So basic,
Yet we lack it.
Interaction is nothing without it.
Unable to make a bond because the fact is,
We've missed the point.
The point that connects you and me,
And not just on a family tree;
That connects us all from A to Z,
And not just on eHarmony.

Trust.

Where did it go?
Or did we even have it years ago?
Afraid to go on the right track,
Because we might get stabbed in the back.
Locking our doors and checking it twice,
Like we're Santa Clause on a Christmas blight.
Putting a lock on our phone for protection,
Because your friends may use it as a weapon.
Hiding what belongs to us,
Because we lost our trust in all our lust.
But trusting each other is a must,
Because you cant spell trust without us.

Trust.

A firm belief in the reliability,
Truth,
Ability,
Or strength in someone.
Can you think of anyone?
I am sure you can,
Maybe the one that holds your hand.
But for how long?
I'm sorry but it's true,
People can back-stab you.
But this can change starting with you,
Because if you trust people,
They'll trust you.
You may get hurt but at least you'll live,
With your heart on your sleeve and something to give.

So let's break this cycle of deceit and start this world anew.
It doesn't start with them,
It starts with you.
Trust someone and you will see,
How great this world could be,
For you and me.
It's not that hard so don't make it be,
It's only the fear of the possibility,
Of losing everything.
Don't fear,
Trust.

Copyright © David Neuman | Year Posted 2014

Details | Blank verse |
Opened like a morning leaf
exposed beneath the moon,
Resting in the tentacles
of a clouded ink coccoon.
Wringing hands now rest at peace-
the solitude of night,
a lantern in the wilderness
the miracle of flight.
Dancing on the tabletops
or falling from a swing,
is noticing the networking
of every living thing.
Observation is the art
that shows a single frame,
experience will turn to stone
the given and the gained.

Copyright © Nykki Houtkooper | Year Posted 2005

Details | Free verse |
Oneness
                   Authored by Chuck Keys

It had no color,
Lacking shape, size and dimension.
It wasn't moving or breathing.

There was neither aroma nor taste, not here or there.
Touching was useless because it wasn't physical.
It was indistinct and limitless.

Thinking multi-physically
Multi-sensually and multi-psychologically 
It wasn't here or there and it was.

With no distinction, 
It looked like everything else,
Or it could not have looked like everything else.

It never made me feel good nor bad,
Nor happy nor sad
Nor quite nor trite.

In our world of joy and destroy, we sort and distort,
Looking more on the surface and less on the inside,
Ready to judge and be judged from outside in.

The "oneness" of mankind stretches beyond definitions and limits,
From outside to inside and from inside to outside.
We are one distinct and alike world of "oneness."

Differences exist for differences, 
Therefore, differences don't exist.
Only "oneness" exists.

DEDICATION:
This poem is dedicated to Dr. Clayborne Carson and The Gandhi-King Community,
For Global Peace with Social Justice in a Sustainable Environment.  
www.gandhiking.ning.com

Copyright © Chuck Keys | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse |
~It's a Beautiful Day~

Under every star, 
A smile waltz-like no other
Once a simple cherry blossom girl, 
enjoying puppets and lullabies.
Sitting in front of the screen
Anxiously waiting for him to come in
through the front door, whistling a song, 
trading a suit jacket, for a zippered sweater;
made with love. ---My day just got better---

   ***It's a beautiful day***
In a charming little town square 
A servant, serving a friendly atmosphere
Welcome to the land of make-believe, 
where all my friends are real.
Here comes the speedy delivery 
Mr. McFeely and his letters.
Prancing puppet skin in love with
Beautiful Lady Aberlin.
Henrietta, a mighty and feisty pussycat
My favorite strings are the king and queen
Before the show ends, Trolley's a friend
tooting around from make-believe to reality.
   ***It's was a beautiful day***
Oh the innocence of my childhood, 
       My neighborhood is gone

By: PD

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
I still look for her. 
In the middle of the typing and the traffic 
and the deadlines and the bills, 
I look for her–the girl, who believed 
her bare feet could outrun the moon. 

She ran like a boy. She wasn’t trying to. 
Her strides were not intended for similes. 
No, she ran the way she always did 
When she wanted the wind to dance 
With the ungraceful tangles of her hair. 

Her gestures, careless, 
Were not meant to fit in boxes. 
She knew she was a girl; she had been told. 
But she didn’t have to know that one word 
Was the gravity that would keep her in line, 
Inching from one label to another. 

I still look for her. 
In the dusk and the shadows 
And the starless sky, I look for her– 
The girl, who believed in magic and 
Ghosts and faeries and monsters. 
She didn’t have to know the shackles 
That came with age, the chains 
That would bind her to the reality 
Where monsters don’t hide under the bed, 
Sometimes the monster, 
It’s in the daylight 
With a sharp tongue and a sweet smile. 

I still look for her. 
In the sunlight and the mirror 
And the eyes of strangers, 
I look for her–the girl, who didn’t think poetry 
Lived in the ink or the page or the vocal cords. 
She held poetry in the tips of her fingers, 
And she felt it each time she touched 
The surface of water and made ripples, 
Or when she traced the contours 
Of her mother’s face. 
She made poetry 
Like it was meant to be–felt. 

I catch a glimpse of her sometimes. 
In the Goosebumps, in the butterflies, 
In the sweaty palms, in the flutter of the heart, 
In a daydream, in a shooting star. 
But she’s fading, fading because 
Now she knows the moon isn’t following her 
And poetry made by hands, felt but unspoken, 
Unwritten, can be forgotten.

Copyright © P.I. Alltraine | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
Unborn tomorrows..
Disguise unknown sorrows
Leaving hearts full..
Not empty and hollow

Unborn tomorrows..
Always send a rainbow smile
After dark clouds..
Have had their while

Unborn tomorrows..
Leave room for dreams to grow
Even ones forgotten..
So long ago

Unborn tomorrows..
Give all a second chance
To rekindle..
 Lost romance

Unborn tomorrows..
Provide opportunity to say thank you
I love you..
And appreciate all you do

Unborn tomorrows..
Give a chance to say
I'm sorry I acted that way..
I don't always mean everything I say

Unborn tomorrows..
Are like life itself 
Breathe in and out..
Nothing else
Just assuming the next one will come
Until the last one and then it's done..

So breathe deep and let it go..
If tomorrow doesn't come, you'll never know..

For God is love....


©Donna Jones

* I heard the phrase unborn tomorrow a long long time ago on an old western show when I was a kid..I thought it was beautiful and still do...

Copyright © Donna Jones | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
In the midst of great turmoil and strife, 
There is a force manifestly to be heard…seen….touched
A voice—ever so soft… yet loud enough to break mountains at their base
It can make a grown man cry—can distort the finest face
Lead the mother eagle back to its nest…
Run its hands against a tumultuous sea to rest…
Shedding tears of empathy when the woman,
With child, is seen- alone…sore. . . distressed

With mind enduring beyond mortal endurance
With arms stretching across the universe of opportunities and darkness
With eyes blossoming like those crazy sunflowers reaching to the sky…
Suddenly… you will feel its yellow fires 

It is the very storm that knocks us down 
To the depths of humility...patiently waiting for the perfect time to strike, 
It comes like an earthquake and tremors the very soul into action... 
It is the war of mercy that will devour to create and rejuvenate! 
It tells the geese to fly south, whispering them in the right direction... 
It is the soft growl of the lion that wakes its babe to safety...

Like music, it can soothe, or agitate,
Its rhythms changeable…forgivable… 
When you take a wrong turn, a dissonant chord harsh as lightning will expel
Suspended in the air—colors more mysterious than hell
And when you love—oh how sweet love carries cherished lips cosmically….
A smile of the most precious melodies ring
New colors—see it, new colors shall spring

What this light truly means is to be revealed
Only for the precious few who listen and truly feel
Wrapped in the soft ribbons of love beyond all mortality 
Beyond space and reality
Beyond the very tip of the mountain,
That never had to be touched to be brought to its knees…..
Not once did this force ever have to take the woman by the hand
And say with conviction… “everything will be okay….”
Because phenomenally… she would simply hear it in melody,
Inspired by the blazing sun of a newly dawned day-
Freshly caught tears of joy priding the lonely spider’s web

For Justin Bordner’s Divine Intervention Contest
Thank you, with love,
Laura 

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |
Whispers of sunset
     Carry on wings of evening birds
     Rising moon awaits wolfs’ howls

Sundown serenade
     Crickets chant their scratchy song
     Hooting gallery comprised of owls

Phantoms awaken
     Stalkers prowl ‘neath opera stages
     Graveyards welcome spectral spirits

Points of light
     Stars glisten in darkening sky
     Street lamps guide travelers home

Fireplace crackles
     Kindling ignites thick trunks of oak
     Welcome warmth fills country homes

Toasts of wine
     Lovers enjoy a fireside embrace
     Candlelit shadows dance on walls

Grandma rocks
     Old chair creaks on hardwood floors
     Children gather for bedtime tales

Stillness follows
     Consciousness retreats to dreamland
     Tooth fairies and sandmen emerge

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010

Details | Blank verse |
My hands and feet are numb
for I am cold and I have no
home to give me warmth.
A home and warmth are two
things I search for that is why
people call me a bum.
I have not eaten but I have
prayed and my prayers have
not yet been answer for I have
not eaten in days.
So I'll just lay in my place of 
sleep and pray once more as I
search for warmth,  for I have
found my home, The streets.

Copyright © THE POET 174 | Year Posted 2008

Details | Free verse |
BEAUTIFUL ANGEL Beautiful angel Of huge and white wings Dream or delusion Reality or make believe Show me yourself Spread for me your wings Wrap me in your arms Surround me in safety Take me to the skies Whisper in my ears Things of heaven and earth Share with me your dreams Beautiful winged warrior Your scars show your strength They're your badges of honor For the many battles you went Brave angel of mercy Come and take my hand I can be the fighter for once While you regain your strength For I also have my wings My scars are proof of my fights I'm not as strong as you But I can hold my ground Rest your head on my lap Let me be your balm Share with me your burden In the morning we can fly *** March 15, 2017

Copyright © Claudia Polydoro | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |
The lake was still sleeping
a light mist rose above,
a weathered dock could be seen,
its aged wood; full of memories.

The air crisp, breeze light,
trees majestic; watching all.
Squirrels  busy scampering,
as a flock of geese soared above.

Way over yonder
clear across the still lake,
shining brightly were yellow shutters,
on our cabin; our special place.

We had toiled the garden
planted yellow roses with great care,
we had painted the old wood shutters,
yellow paint; speckled our hair.

The roof  we re-shingled,
one painstaking nail at a time,
we even counted the ouches;
when our hammers got out of line.

With nothing but smiles
on our weary, aching bodies,
we held hands, and went running,
into the still of the lake; giggling.

We swam out to the dock,
it was a race; he won,
my hand he took laughing;
as he quickly scooped me up.

Our toes dangled playfully
sending ripples in the lake,
as we gazed at our cabin;
yellow shutters; fresh with paint.

The trees swayed slightly
as if nodding with approval,
for our cabin by the lake,
was our private sacred jewel.

As we cuddled together
warmth filled our souls,
for our bright yellow shutters,
symbolized, our love's blossoming growth.

It was on this very dock,
air crisp, breeze light,
when he gave me a yellow rose;
and asked me to be his wife.

Copyright © Lynn Marie | Year Posted 2006

Details | Verse |
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                                         Hearts ~ Soaring                                                                
                                                                                              
                                     On Wings ~ of Eagles 
                           
                      Dreams of Freedom ~ Promising Blue Skies










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Copyright © Arturo Michael | Year Posted 2018