Writing Farewell Poems

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Details | Free verse |
Hounds from Hell take their toll on your soul
as you walk the mainstreet of mainstream
and watch Saturn and Neptune dance to a simple tone
of silence in the outer space.
As you sit in the middle of the world
alone;
free yourself from the sense of hopelessness,
only see yourself in the mirror of deception
as your reflection laughs at you and looks right through you,
and doesn't have remorse for what it says or does to you.

Hounds from Hell take your soul,
chock you, cut of your air,
the smog and fog blind you in the city of ash.
Hear the hounds from hell howl for your soul,
go now, barracade your soul behind sins and temptation,
Alone, listening to your soul die away,
watch love go away from you, with suitcase in hand,
picture frames broken and collect dust through the sands of time.
Till the cleaning lady comes on Monday, to clean the mess
that you left behind.
You are gone, without a trace of ever returning.
Looks of the Hounds of Hell came for you and stole you from
comfort and warmth,
till the sorrowed heart cracks and pain spills out
and you look at it all spill out over the floor.
The Hounds from Hell have paid a consumable harmage to you,
and your rich soul of sorrowness burns away... slowly.

Fear darkens souls,
innocent souls burn with a new day,
a slumber that has no end
with nightmares haunting every light of hope
there is left in this desolate Wasteland.
Fear and darkness tears a hole in the darkened universe
and we all go to hell to see the Hounds,
who come for us all.
The graveyards fill,
and death guards the tombstones of the dead,
and the flowers burn away on the feet of the dead.

-10/14/2013-

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013




Details | Romanticism |
I am the Blue Poet.
The uneasy man.
Who longs to be loved,
or just to have a friend.

My heart whisphers a low melody
on a faint, cool evening
thinking of her.
Once in my arms,
laying on my bed of roses.
Now she is gone.
I cannot think anymore!
It is hard, to love again,
When all your love has been taken away.
... I am the Blue Poet.

I am the Blue Poet,
That walks the bluish, dawn and dew covered streets
in the the October evenings and nights.
But I tell you, I wasn't always so blue.
No! I was once alive... happy... romantic,
... till Love went away!

Now I sit in the wayward poetry clubs,
drinking club soda and snapping my fingures
to a finished performance on a poem about love.
Written by a soft, spoken seventeen year old girl.

Soon, it is my turn to give my poem a read.
I stand on a lone stage, with a spotlight drownding me in blindness.
I face the faces, who look at me and smile.
A clap, and a cough, bring my head up.
I look out upon the sitting crowd.
To see that one face
that speaks to me,
without the movement of the mouth.
The face never showed though, and my head fell back down.

I start to read.
A vase of emotions kill me and swallow me up.
I try to hold back tears, but no more could I halter.
I finished, with a salty tear, rolling down my rough and oiled cheek.
I leave the crowd at ovation
and leave the women, all with tears in their eyes.

I come down from the stage, leaving the bright spotlight.
I shake hands, give hugs,
and collect my pay, and have another round of club soda.
Then, I go down the midnight alleyways of sprinkled city streets
finding myself a cozy room.

I think of her for a moment,
then off to sleep.
I dream of one time laughs, and hugs and kisses.
I cry in my sleep,
...For I am the Blue Poet.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
5/12/17


Go ahead and tell
Hide in your shell
Or run away like a gazelle
Don't like your intent and what you try to sell
Farewell
Catch an L
Rot away and smell
Then burn in hell
On my mind, it will not dwell

Throwing shade
On my name
It's nothing new or strange
What some will do for clout and fame
Is beyond a shame

I'm going to turn into the ace of spades
And a jack of all trades
Bury what remains in a legitimate grave
Then carryout another day, while still feeling the same

A new century
Another enemy
Out to get me due to jealousy
I can only imagine how it is, when you're a celebrity


Your not going to shorten my life expectancy
Or any chance of longevity
Due to me thinking sensibly
My own integrity
And a sudden surge of adrenaline and energy
No R. I. P. for you, or memory

By: Dalton Ogletree

Copyright © Dalton Ogletree | Year Posted 2017




Details | Senryu |
Kids go down
The slide…they head toward the swings
TIME TO SCREAM!

Free time ends
Their parents want to go home
Frowns exchange 

Copyright © JW Earnings | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse |
Globally, miners jubilantly jump for joy
Smiles on the faces of every girl and boy
The grins of a newly opened Xmas toy
Thatcher’s dead.

Trade unionists bounce along the street
Music blaring and the tapping of feet
From nurses to Bobbies still on the beat
Thatcher’s dead.

Street parties announced in the nation
Satan who brought economic inflation
Is deceased, now’s the time for elation
Thatcher’s dead.

Its times like this I’m sad I’m an atheist
And can only shout and wave my fist
And then go to the pub and get pissed
Thatcher’s dead.

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Elegy |
"Daddy" the way I call my father
The man who loves my mother
The man who gave life to me
And the man who will risks his life to protect his family.

He's not showy about his feelings
But I know he loves us unconditionally
He gets angry when his siblings were hurt
And he makes us laugh the way he dances and tells us jokes

Now..he left us already
His silly jokes,crazy dance moves now were gone
Coz he went to a far away land
In a place where  hurt and sorrow has no place in man

I miss my daddy a lot
His voice,
His jokes,
His crazy dance moves
And his being father to us
I miss everything about him!

I know God has a plan
And I give everything into His merciful hand
Pls.take care ofmy daddy in heaven
Coz someday we'll see him again
And continue the sing and dance with him again...

Copyright © Jerica Sanchez | Year Posted 2013

Details | Romanticism |
A sweet flower's funeral
displayed in the cold months
of snowy weather and bone chilling shivers.
A sweet flower burned away, dried up;
buried six feet under.

Oh, my sweet flower,
how you once bloomed with no remorse,
like a madman blooming with beauty
and a glorious halo over your head
shinned with such power and blinding glory.

Oh my sweet flower how you have gone now,
resting in peace in the land of paradise.
Oh, my heart it is weak when I see your face,
of once beautiful smiles and warm embraces.
I can hear your crying out to be free.

Snowing and bone chilling cold ripes at my soul
and feelings of sorrow rage through my blood,
boiling my hatred to the world, for losing your
sweet and ever glorious beauty.

What I would give away, if I could be with you
one last night, one last night together
to hold you in my arms, to smell your sweet perfume
that brings back sweet memories of you and I.
What I would do to be with you,
such romance travels through my heart in the highways
of my veins in my body, love is all throughout me,
and my heart breaks when pictures of you start to collect dust.

My love for you, my sweet flower,
is still ingering through the air,
as I travel and look upon a tombstone
which shows your beautiful name.

Come to me my dear flower,
when spring comes,
come to me my dear, sweet flower.
And bloom once again,
twice as large as last year,
and ten times more beautiful then last year.
Come to me in the first months of spring
in my dreams, so I could sit and talk with you.
I miss you already,
and my heart crys,
my eyes flood with tears of sorrow.
I miss our love we shared.
Long walks,
cosy talks,
warm cuddling embraces
and beautiful displayed in a picture frame.
Now I hear the tapping of raindrops on my window pane.
That is all that keeps me company,
that and the rose you gave to me
and a picture of you and me.
Love is endless, even when blue eyed Death comes to visit
and play a game of chess with us,
we all play our game, my love.
I shall go tonight
in my sleepy slumber
and dream of you in the times of our height in our love for each other.
My lost love, you are gone, resting in paradise,
but never forgotten my sweet flower.

-10/6/2013-

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
Ah, the september weather is here,
the trees turn firery red and orange,
and the leaves gently fall to the surface.

Fall is here,
and the grass turns from green to yellow,
the souls of many change their ways.

From going on beaches in sun
to walking on wet streets,
with jackets on.

September weather is here,
too most it is depressing to see,
such change in the world.

But I love it.
The girlfriends and boyfriends go away,
and that makes me happy.
Then I go apple picking.

I pick red apples,
from low, hanging apple trees.
and I eat one, while walking down the trail.

Fall is here,
the time of death,
the last of sunshine.

I don't argue,
I love fall,
it is so cosy and it gives me hope.

Hope that a day will come again,
when the sun pops its head out
and the warmth returns.

September weather is the best,
when summer is gone, but not quite,
and the cool breeze sweaps through your open windowpane.

I love fall,
it gives me hope,
that with death comes life.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
My Time Has Come

My time is over here in this body
I am being called home as my work is done here
I hear my Lords voice calling me home
Although I know I will miss this old world 
With all that I have seen and done
All the People I have met and talked to
My body can go on no more for it has reached it’s time

Rev. Samuel Mack, OMS
Copyright 2013

http:paladinnews1.blogspot.com

Copyright © Rev. Dr. Samuel Mack OMS DD | Year Posted 2013

Details | Tanka |
remembered lines
of poetry from youth
just pretty poems
the adjectives and  adverbs
hypnotizing my heart

the poetic spell
almost consuming my life
from houseman to frost
and back to shakespeare
and dying inside for truth

so simple and silent
devoid of actual words
so memorable
useless dreams of prized stuff
carried away by wind and stars

Soon I was looking
at real stars and mountain crests
without prettys rosy fins
looking really looking
without judgement try to be

Copyright © Thomas Martin | Year Posted 2015

Details | I do not know? |
Hand in hand we walked 
together into Reception
Nothing could stop us and 
together we were three
James and I LARP-ed Doctor 
Who for fun
We talked and laughed for 
hours
Because no stress was in our 
way
Anna and I smiled and laughed
And jumped on our bouncy 
castle
With nothing dividing us.

Side by side we walked 
together into Year 6
Some stranger stopped them to 
talk and broken we were alone
James and I talked about 
Doctor Who for fun
And we talked and kissed for 
hours
But misunderstanding broke us 
up
Anna and I still smiled and 
laughed
And joked about our bouncy 
castle
But secondary school was going 
to divide us.

With no one there I walked 
alone into Year 7
And a stranger became my 
friend and together we were 
two
Violet and I both loved Doctor 
Who
And James found Dominic
So James and I talked for mere 
minutes
And school started pulling us 
apart
Anna and I still laughed and 
smiled
Still promising to be friends 
Never letting it divide us

Suffocating and drowning I 
walked into Year 9
Hating how I was and feeling 
alone
Katie and Chloe were so pretty
And Violet so funny and all 
were better than me
James and I hardly talked or 
saw each other
But we still made the most of 
our friendship
As we were like family, stress 
couldn’t break us apart
Anna and I laughed but I did 
not smile genuinely
Because the bouncy castle was 
long gone
And our schools were beginning 
to divide us

Dead yet breathing I stand 
right now
And I hate who am I and every 
single detail
Fights broke us up and pulled 
us apart
So I can feel Katie, Violet and 
Chloe
Falling further out my reach
James moved house to a place 
unknown
And blamed me for never 
talking to him
But really it was because of my 
ex who was a girl
It was for something beyond 
my control
Anna and I were still friends; 
only by a thread
As she did not know about me
And how school broke me apart

So this is me now; I’m all alone
No longer the smiling young girl 
of reception
The only person talking to me 
is me
And the voice in side my head
You see; they all left me and 
always will
So now the only call I answer
Is that of my blades
And the darkness
That is constantly
Pulling me
Down

Copyright © Teenage Frustrations | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
As the sun sets
and the twilight comes out,
as the birds and squrriels are no where in sight.

As the whores and pimps sit on street corners,
waiting for street lights to turn from green to red.
As cadillacs stop and roll their windows down.

I can her the faint cry deep in the darkness,
of dirty gutters and dark, dead end alleyways,
I hear the faint tears fall and hit concrete pavement.

I feel the faint cries of whores,
I hear the sound of backhand hitting face
and brused tissue and broken noses are everywhere.

And the somber tears fall onto pillow cases,
and white motel bedsheets run red with blood
and cheap Italian wine.

And you can her the poet over the radio,
reading his own work for the one millionth time
and you can hear his soul slowly wanting to die.

He drowns himself in smoke and alcohol
the whore takes her pay, or spends a night in a jail cell,
the pimp nowhere to be found,
with a shiny blade stuck deep in his gut.

And the somber tears fall gently on the concrete pavement,
the floors of a jail cell,
tears on the pillow case and tears on a lonesome stage.

Tears never present, but are seen by many,
pain aches and pain takes away,
and I pour one more drink for the whore.

She takes me away,
and I caught her salty, somber tear,
and she crawled into my warm embrace.

I was the one who stuck the blade in the gut of that pimp,
who broke her nose and made her bleed,
with a cowardess and souless backhand.

I walk into the moonlight,
hearing the somber tears all around me,
crash violently to the concrete pavement.

The Earth rumbles and erupts with these tears,
that are shead for fellow Men, and Women and Children,
but we all look at ourselves and smile.

Happy we don't pay rent,
happy we don't have cancer,
happy we aren't six feet under;

But we still all cry,
Why?
Somber tears all fall in one big wave

crashing violently on the concrete pavement.
Now the red light turns green,
and the traffic moves along,
the whore is still at her corner,
the pimp still with the blade in his gut.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Romanticism |
I am dead without my love.
It is simple as that.
I cannot breath without her,
I cannot eat without her,
I cannot write without her.
I cannot live without my love,
I am dead without my love.

I cannot prosper without her warm embrace,
I cannot think without her by my side.
always thinking of her, sharing her love I once had,
with another.
My heart breaks,
and my mind is gone.
I weap... I weap...
I cannot handle the betrayal of my once love.
I am stuck, sitting in dark corners of dark rooms,
staring at blank walls, thinking of what once was.

Her beauty,
her smile,
the laughs shared, and the tears we weaped together.
Holding hands, you and I, walking down sandy beaches,
and beautiful highways, full of love.
How we sat on park benches and kissed the night away.
I cannot believe you are gone, with another.

I did what I could,
I loved you endless time on my hand.
Our time spent together was special and near to the heart.
Do not expect for that happiness to come again.
For that has sailed, to far East, to the rising of the new day.

But, I cannot live one more day without my love.
For what I had with her is unexplainable and beautiful beyond definition.
I have seen the wayward signs point me to the direction of you.
But when we see each other, you don't spare a passing glance,
as if I was a ghost, an invisible man, like air.
That is when my heart breaks, torn in two, I cannot see me without you.
Walk with another, shall I go, now this without you.

For she is my everything, beauty and nature.
She is my rose, my violet, my nightingale singing her songs, in the twilight.
She is the sky, the sun, the moon, the trees, the grass.
She is everything to me.
She is even the summer storms and Winter blizzards that roll in and destroy,
beauty and harmony.

I cannot live without my love, for she is my one and only.
I do not like to beg, but love me once again and live with me forever.
For you know and I know, and the world knows,
That I cannot live without you,
I cannot live without my love,
For I am dead without my love.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
A single kiss from thy lovely lips,
so sweet and so divine,
yet I taste posion upon your tongue.

Your beauty so glorious,
like a blooming rose so beautiful,
yet, why do mine eyes go blind
in the sight that you walk along with another?

Yes you, walk with another,
arm under arm,
lips touching lips in romantic kisses,
it makes my blood boil,
for mine lips are dry.

For mine eyes have seen your glory,
yet no one here listens to my story.
You are evil, yes you are,
don't try to deny,
Listen to a man of experience,
you might as well save some expense.

I write of our long romantic walks
we took together, under the shade of olive trees,
how we went apple picking in autumn time,
and made love in the foyer.

Nomore of that sweet and passionate love,
nomore silent kisses in the night,
when the wind blows hard against the branches,
that tape violently on my windowpane. 
Nomore somber tears shed, when you got sick,
and nomore warm embraces when you shed tears of betrayal.

Betrayal now is a game played by a fool,
such as I,
to think I'd have a happy life with you?
Huh, only a fool would think such a thing,
but now I sit, looking at the foyer,
where we once made sweet, passionate love,
nomore will that foyer be filled with exotic pleasure.
Nomore will you be filled with smiles and exotic pleasure.
I've done my job, as a good man shall do,
now pack your things and get of my stage,
the spotlight yawns for anew,
and the audience grows tired and restless of you.

Now I live life anew,
you too shall see life in new eyes,
walking hand and hand with the blond, blue eyed devil
you call your own.
Shall he take one kiss from your lips,
and die of the posion he tastes on your tongue,
shall he go blind, when he sees your true, black beauty?
He will see the ugly soul, covered up by white rags,
and cheap makeup,
and then he will come to me,
and shake my hand in condolence
and say, "You were right!"

Now you are all alone,
looking for another, as you did many times before,
Now you are alone, walking an open road,
spying on another,
fear of being alone.
Now, you see when you play games with a good man's emotions,
don't try it,
because a good man is not meant to be toyed with.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse |
What is it to see the soil of home again?
A welcome, snow-struck and a return
To cold; sharp white contrasts sunburn.
We converse in broken tongues to men

We know, hooked on holiday language
Comprised of wandering hand signs.
Collect the car and pay parking fines,
Drive through towns and over a bridge

Until we reach the Western gateway.
Oh when will we arrive at our house?
No camels there, only field mouse
Which are eaten by our cat anyway.

The plane flies for an age, slyly yawning
Through the stretching, pealing sky,
A knife through air; what it is to fly.
Our travels over; a new day is dawning.

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |
MUM ...

WHERE DO I START? I DON'T THINK THERE IS WORDS , TO EXPLAIN HOW I AM 


FEELING ABOUT THE LOSS OF YOU... BUT I WILL USE ALL THE STRENGTH YOU HAVE 


GIVEN TO ME , SO I CAN GET THESE FINAL WORDS OUT THE GUILT , SADNESS AND 

REGRET  FROM NOT SEEING YOU LIKE I WANTED TO  SO ****ING MUCH ,

 THEN THE PAIN OF NOT HAVING  A CHANCE TO SAY "GOODBYE" TO THE MOST 

BEAUTIFUL MOTHER COULD WANT, AND YES MUM I'M TALKING ABOUT YOUTO HOLD 

YOUR HAND, TO SEE YOU SMILE , TO HEAR YOUR VOICE, WOULD MAKE MY LIFE MORE 

WORTHWHILE. YOU TAUGHT ME HOW TO LIVE, BUT YOU NEVER TAUGHT ME HOW TO 

LIVE WITHOUT YOU I MISS YOU SO SO MUCH MUM, BUT THE LOVE IN MY HEART FOR YOU , WILL MAKE SURE 

YOUR LIFE , LOVE , WARMTH AND TOUCH , WILL LIVE ON FOREVER , 

IN ME I KNOW THAT YOU CHANGED ME , JUST FROM YOUR 

PRESENCE...THATS'S HOW STRONG YOU WERE MUM I KNOW YOU HAVEN'T LEFT ME , 

FOR THE LOVE IN MY HEART REMAINS , YOU WILL NEVER HAVE TO SUFFER AND YOUR 

BODY WILL FEEL NO PAIN...... GOD TOOK YOUR HAND , AND MADE US PART , HE CLOSED 

YOUR EYES , AND BROKE MY HEART ....FOR ALL THE TIMES WE HAVE BEEN TOGETHER,

I WILL NEVER FORGET YOUR FACE.

THERE IS NO MOTHER ANYWHERE LIKE YOU,

NO ONE COULD TAKE YOUR PLACE.

IF ONLY I HAD KNOWN YOU WERE LEAVING,

I GUESS I EXPECTED YOU TO FOREVER LAST,

ALL OF THE DREAMS OF US IN THE FUTURE,

ARE NOW BUT MEMORIES OF THE PAST.

GOD TAPPED YOU ON THE SHOULDER,

HE WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO KNEW,

THAT YOU WERE GOING WITH HIM,

TO THE SKY SO BEAUTIFUL BLUE.

ALTHOUGH I MAY NEVER SEE YOU MUM,

ARJAY WILL BE BY YOUR SIDE,

HE'S GONNA HOLD YOUR HAND,

AND LEAD THE WAY,

FOR HE WILL BE YOUR GUIDE.....

I LOVE YOU MY MOTHER.....
DON'T TELL ME THAT YOU UNDERSTAND, 
DON'T TELL ME THAT YOU KNOW,
DON'T TELL ME THAT I WILL SURVIVE,
HOW I WILL SURELY GROW.
DON'T TELL ME THIS IS JUST A TEST,
THAT I AM TRULY BLESSED,
THAT I AM CHOSEN FOR THIS TASK,
APART FROM ALL THE REST.
DON'T COME AT ME WITH  ANSWERS THAT CAN ONLY COME FROM ME,
DON'T TELL ME HOW MY GRIEF WILL PASS,
THAT I WILL SOON BE FREE.
DON'T STAND IN PIOUS JUDGMENT OF THE BONDS I MUST UNTIE,
DON'T TELL ME HOW TO SUFFER,
DON'T TELL ME HOW TO CRY.
MY LIFE IS FILLED WITH SELFISHNESS,
MY PAIN IS ALL I SEE,
BUT I  NEED YOU,
I NEED YOU YOUR LOVE UNCONDITONALLY.
ACCEPCT ME IN MY UPS AND DOWNS,
I NEED SOMEONE TO SHARE,
JUST TO HOLD MY HAND AND LET ME CRY,
AND SAY, MY FRIEND I REALLY DO CARE
Mom you mean the world to me
It’s hard to live without you ,You were always by my side
Through thick and thin you helped me

Copyright © MIKAYLA BROWN | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
It hurts all the time
This pain in me never stops
I want to cry for you
I want to scream for you
I want to beg for you
I want you to be here
This cant be fair
This cant be real

But I smile and I laugh
I get up every morning to go to work
Throw on a happy face and make some jokes
I come home and enjoy my day
I have fun
And I continue on
But I’m so hurt
I’m so lost

Seeing you in there killed me
I could never get the phone call out my head
The screams from my mom
The walk up there to see if it was true
But most of all I wont forget you
In the casket
Touching your hand
You were so cold
You didn’t belong there
Seeing you go into the ground
Seeing them fall apart
Feeling my heart break into pieces
When all I could do is scream
I will never forget that day

And every time I smile I want to cry
Every time I laugh I want to cry
Every time I think I want to cry
Every breath I take takes a little bit out of me
Because I want to cry

I want this to not be real
I want to had spend more time with you
I want to hug you
Laugh with you 
Tell you I love you
That I was always there
That I am still always here

I am so broken
But I continue on with life

Because God took you and not me
He wanted me here for a reason
So ill continue on for
You
I will laugh
And smile
And pretend
Anything to make it to the end
To see you

I miss you just isn’t enough
It doesn’t mean enough


What heals a broken heart?
Time they say

But time wont bring you back
So my heart stays broken
As I pretend to smile

I miss you
I miss you
I miss you


As I’m falling apart

My mask then goes on



RIP Bebo... 17 was to young

Copyright © Taina Rodriguez | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
Drunk in the lost city,
lost in the vase beauty of the angels
drunk, smoking on park benches.

Freaks, trannys, whores and pimps,
looking at me;
a one of a kind.

No one has ever seen me on the streets of L.A.,
beacause I am a one of a kind,
a gentleman, a drunken buffoon.

I hurl myself at the bars,
and the whores look at me and smile,
and I wave them over, and they come.

40 bucks for a night a good fun,
a night of exotic pleasure,
in the heart of the sleeping angels.

Drunk walking,
two in the morning,
police stop me, sleeping on a park bench.

Warm always warm,
never cold,
the city that is lost.

A city known as the city of angels,
yet how many devils I have counted.
How much evil I have seen,
how much temptation rules in the gutters.

Walking drunk on madness,
in this dirty city,
as I look for a bar before last call.

I find one,
I go in,
order a beer.

I drink with pleasure
I start to write,
I light a cigarette and smoke.

A grey cloud forms around me,
"Last call for alcohol," the barkeep shouts.
I raise my hand, he comes over.

"What will yah have?" he asks,
"Another beer and my check."
On the house, free drinks, on the house.

After a night in the city of angels,
I find myself a cosy park bench,
and fall asleep, dreaming of the angels I had never seen.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Personification |
I extol your virtues.

I lean back,exulting at 
your innovation and 
achievements.
A dream come true-I 
salute you.
   I salute your inventive
Mind.
   Paragon of excellence.
  An out-let for display of 
emotions and feelings in 
tangible form.
   Limitless quiver 
housing the enlightened
expanding arrows.
   Your ship of knowledge 
ferry talents from 
obscurity to lime-light.
Giving preference to no 
race or gender.
   I salute you sunlight of 
poets.
  A safe haven for 
wandering minds-
bringing imaginations to 
reality.
  Kudos! I pray:
  The spread of night 
shall not over-shadow.

Copyright © Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu | Year Posted 2013

Details | Couplet |
From deep within a silence grows
Vastly spreading, yet no one knows
No one knows of what's to come
The Feeling is sudden, then it's done.
Often with pain, fits of sorrow
The Feeling leaves nothing, not even a morrow
With much haste, take one last breath
We all succumb to The Feeling of Death.

Copyright © Don Davidson | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |
MUM ...

WHERE DO I START? I DON'T THINK THERE IS WORDS , TO EXPLAIN HOW I AM 


FEELING ABOUT THE LOSS OF YOU... BUT I WILL USE ALL THE STRENGTH YOU HAVE 


GIVEN TO ME , SO I CAN GET THESE FINAL WORDS OUT THE GUILT , SADNESS AND 

REGRET  FROM NOT SEEING YOU LIKE I WANTED TO  SO ****ING MUCH ,

 THEN THE PAIN OF NOT HAVING  A CHANCE TO SAY "GOODBYE" TO THE MOST 

BEAUTIFUL MOTHER COULD WANT, AND YES MUM I'M TALKING ABOUT YOUTO HOLD 

YOUR HAND, TO SEE YOU SMILE , TO HEAR YOUR VOICE, WOULD MAKE MY LIFE MORE 

WORTHWHILE. YOU TAUGHT ME HOW TO LIVE, BUT YOU NEVER TAUGHT ME HOW TO 

LIVE WITHOUT YOU I MISS YOU SO SO MUCH MUM, BUT THE LOVE IN MY HEART FOR YOU , WILL MAKE SURE 

YOUR LIFE , LOVE , WARMTH AND TOUCH , WILL LIVE ON FOREVER , 

IN ME I KNOW THAT YOU CHANGED ME , JUST FROM YOUR 

PRESENCE...THATS'S HOW STRONG YOU WERE MUM I KNOW YOU HAVEN'T LEFT ME , 

FOR THE LOVE IN MY HEART REMAINS , YOU WILL NEVER HAVE TO SUFFER AND YOUR 

BODY WILL FEEL NO PAIN...... GOD TOOK YOUR HAND , AND MADE US PART , HE CLOSED 

YOUR EYES , AND BROKE MY HEART ....FOR ALL THE TIMES WE HAVE BEEN TOGETHER,

I WILL NEVER FORGET YOUR FACE.

THERE IS NO MOTHER ANYWHERE LIKE YOU,

NO ONE COULD TAKE YOUR PLACE.

IF ONLY I HAD KNOWN YOU WERE LEAVING,

I GUESS I EXPECTED YOU TO FOREVER LAST,

ALL OF THE DREAMS OF US IN THE FUTURE,

ARE NOW BUT MEMORIES OF THE PAST.

GOD TAPPED YOU ON THE SHOULDER,

HE WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO KNEW,

THAT YOU WERE GOING WITH HIM,

TO THE SKY SO BEAUTIFUL BLUE.

ALTHOUGH I MAY NEVER SEE YOU MUM,

ARJAY WILL BE BY YOUR SIDE,

HE'S GONNA HOLD YOUR HAND,

AND LEAD THE WAY,

FOR HE WILL BE YOUR GUIDE.....

I LOVE YOU MY MOTHER.....
DON'T TELL ME THAT YOU UNDERSTAND, 
DON'T TELL ME THAT YOU KNOW,
DON'T TELL ME THAT I WILL SURVIVE,
HOW I WILL SURELY GROW.
DON'T TELL ME THIS IS JUST A TEST,
THAT I AM TRULY BLESSED,
THAT I AM CHOSEN FOR THIS TASK,
APART FROM ALL THE REST.
DON'T COME AT ME WITH  ANSWERS THAT CAN ONLY COME FROM ME,
DON'T TELL ME HOW MY GRIEF WILL PASS,
THAT I WILL SOON BE FREE.
DON'T STAND IN PIOUS JUDGMENT OF THE BONDS I MUST UNTIE,
DON'T TELL ME HOW TO SUFFER,
DON'T TELL ME HOW TO CRY.
MY LIFE IS FILLED WITH SELFISHNESS,
MY PAIN IS ALL I SEE,
BUT I  NEED YOU,
I NEED YOU YOUR LOVE UNCONDITONALLY.
ACCEPCT ME IN MY UPS AND DOWNS,
I NEED SOMEONE TO SHARE,
JUST TO HOLD MY HAND AND LET ME CRY,
AND SAY, MY FRIEND I REALLY DO CARE
Mom you mean the world to me
It’s hard to live without you ,You were always by my side
Through thick and thin you helped me

Copyright © MIKAYLA BROWN | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |
Crying over someone who's probably not even missing me.
My poor heart's steady crumbling like an eroded rock in the sea.
Walking around as if you haven't even crossed my mind
As soon as I get alone all this pain just reveals itself, unwinds.

I didn't think I'd lose you like this... I was unprepared.
Things like this? That's why attachment gives me such a scare.
You don't even know how much I'm hurting inside Edmond.
I'm crying again... haven't eaten... barely been sleeping.

So many ways for you to be taken from me, I didn't see this.
I'm so frustrated... I'm so sad... but not at all pissed.
My dad's reasonings are more than reasonable, I'll do as he says,
But I miss waking up to your voice... and those couple lettered texts.






I am so ...sad.

Copyright © Angel C | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
The Eyes

The eyes so shattered and so blue,
You sit there and you knew
The pain of losing someone close to you,
And you beg for their return,
But a wish so great, can never be granted.

The eyes shattered and blue,
Watch you,
Take the bottle and drowned yourself,
They watch you destroy yourself,
And they know what they do,
Yet they show no remorse, no pain in heart.

You fall asleep
On a dirty mattress,
Held up by broken dreams
And nightmares,
No pillow, no blanket
Just air you float on.
And your blind eyes close in the night,
The dreams come back to haunt you
And the eyes, they watch you,
So shattered and so blue.

Till three o’clock hits again
Wake in cold sweat,
Spiders on webs weaving a nest
In your head,
A cry out for the Madhouse,
Where the eyes so shattered and so blue
Stare at you, through a window with no reflection.

-10/3/2013

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
4/17/2013

To love or not to love that is the question 
Do I tell him how I feel;
Do I tell him how he makes everything seem surreal? 
Or do I stand back? 
Close my mouth like I've been caught up in a trap
Or should I squeal?
You make life seem so unreal 
This is the way you make me feel
You make life so surreal until;
Reality hits me, that you are no longer mine 
And we had to say our goodbyes 
It was no longer our time to shine
But forever in my heart you remain
I try to keep my feelings domain,
But I cannot resist the urge 
Of how you make me feel.
You make life so unreal 
So surreal 
Just by how you make me feel 
Is this love 
Or is this tragedy
When will my fairly god mother come sprout
And talk to me what all my dreams are about?
Will she give me that glass slipper or will I have to ask her?
I am always scared that my life will end in disaster 
Holding on, not letting 
My hope begins to show.
You saw the vunuablitly  in my eyes,
You saw how easily I begin to cry 
So you took it further, and pretend as if it we're over 
Maybe some things are better for us than we think 
True love can make our hearts sink
And our souls grow bitter 
And our skin turns old
We were once
So brave and bold;
And now we don't even have a place to call home 

Copyright © Sami LaRose | Year Posted 2013

Details | Enclosed Rhyme |
Before:
He waves the sea farewell
Is sure the shore will dwell

He wheels, hardly touching earth,
          His arms provoke the sky
                As wings about to fly:
                  Raising a newborn bird.

                A swan, yet not about to die
           a phoenix in disguise
      Refuting every lie
     Refusing less than high

      He writes his muted life away
           Remembers life on earth
                     A life of lack and dearth
                                       A miss that always stays

After:
He keeps his words inside
They too will always hide

***

May 4, 2017
Copyright © Darren White

Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |
I sat in a small wayward cafe,
the smell of coffee beans being crushing into submission
tickled at my nosterls.
The sounds of tin cans and cups
some of them being stacked and others
drop with a violent crash.
The tables all red and round
There sat the women, with their novels, tea cups and coffee mugs
sharing small talk of innocent love.
Some women quiet and others talking.
All of them drinking something.

The cool air blew through the windows,
what a mess that wind made.
Blowing papers all around
and blowing the women's hair back.
A man sat there, writing away,
with an endless cough, a tickle at his Adam's Apple.
Then again everyone had a cough.

I sat there reading poetry, writing poetry, embracing poetry
with a pen in one hand and my head in the other,
gently resting of the red round table.
I wrote of the cafe, the women, the man with the endless cough,
that shattered your ear drums everytime he put his hand to his mouth
and coughed away.

A woman who sat reading way,
drinking lemonade and sometimes
taking long glances up.
She was waiting for someone, I could tell.
I looked at her and she at me,
and we both smiled.
Then a sudden silence,
she looked away from me.
A man, who had an ego,
(Then again, doesn't every man have one)
brushed my shoulder and pushed me away.
He apologized, not sincerly.
They kissed and hugged,
I went back to writing with a frown.
They went away in love, I guess?
And I sat all alone in that
lonesome wayward cafe.
Nothing to keep me company, but smell of coffee and tea
and the laughs of the women sharing small talk,
and that one man with Earth shattering cough.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
From time immemorial your story began
A hundred, a thousand, a million years and more
Your story past written a character just one
The tale of you bleeds into all

Each story unique while pieces the same
Today, tomorrow, millennia expended and gone
Your story continues passed first to no last
The tale of you bleeds into all

Through love and hate, laughter and death
Minutes and seconds grew to decades and days
The story being written you wrote each day
The tale of you bleeds into all

Memories endure through dream and remembrance
Yesterday is gone but tomorrow you live on
Your story yet written a character more than one
The tale of you bleeds into all

Your stories the fires shall never consume
A past, a future, a present goes on
The story you wrote lives forever in your love
The tale of you bleeds into all

Copyright © Steven Fordyce | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
The Tidal Wave

I saw a tidal wave come in,
Raging winds and fierce water
Rushed,
Took the houses, cars, trees,
Street signs, park benches,
Pictures of loved ones
(Poor baby Louie, 3 years old washed away)
And along with all the power
It tore my heart out of my cage
And swept it out to the 
Endless seas,
And the great white sharks
Have their way with my heart.

Now bleeding and dying,
Pain follows me,
And I close my eyes,
And wish it all to be done.
Pray for me, I want pain no more.
See tears fall from the corners of my eyes,
As I breathe in and feel no heartbeat.
And they all look at me,
Faces of nomads and they snicker
At me,
I hang my head and cry tears,
But the tears were washed
Away in the tidal wave,
So I sit there,
Eyes closed
And I sleep the night away.

-10/2/2013-

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Dramatic Verse |
I remember going to the next door store;
I remember a shelf of books
I opened one to see what was written within, 
To see the dry ink an author carved onto its pages
But, the book was empty and imprisoned with straight black lines
I flipped through some other books, but there was nothing too...
And so, I bought two with no idea how to free them
But, I knew that I would use them some day

A year passed and I remembered the two books I bought
I opened one and began my journey with it
I was eleven when my pen's tip laid its secrets onto that imprisoned book
I kept writing till one day, a new technology arrived
As the book lat in the dark for a while,
I didn't forget about it, for I introduced it to the new techno.
Day by day, I wrote some more
Day by day, topics changed; to learn more
Now, the once imprisoned book lay carved with so many words
Now, the once 'so' empty and lonely book lay to end...

I remember buying it as a 'Nemo'
And now it's grown to be a 'Journal of New;'
A 'Journal of Poems and Notes; of Quotes and Lessons'
Yes, it is no longer empty, for it is a book of 'me'....
My pen's tip shall no longer meet your pages, but
My hand shall flip through your pages as my eyes read the tales

Once upon a time, there were empty books
"I bought two with no idea how to free them"
One lay in my hands, while the other lay in my sister's hands
And now, I bid my book, my 'Little Nemo'
....Farewell....

Goodbye, from my pen's tip, for it shall no longer carve your pages with secrets,
                      yet you hold my kids; my dried ink

'Little Nemo' you carry words from 'me' 
And I ask you to treasure them for they are precious to me...
Never let go, for I shall flip through your pages a lot more...
You are a book with and author; 'me'

Farewell my 'Little Nemo'

Copyright © Sara Zahed | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse |
Long after the sun has set,
and the moon has been out for sometime,
and it is full,
and a couple stars twinkle
with no remorse,
the sky is dark purple and blue.
The headlights from hotrods shine through my living room window,
as I sit there listening to the classical station
on the radio
and I sit hunched over my typewriter,
a cigarette hanging from my mouth,
a half bottle of red wine at my possession.
I look at the clock upon the wall,

11:45 P.M.

Ah, midnight is almost here.
Midnight, the turn of a new day,
as I sit there
I breath in,
feel my heart skip a beat,
I turn to the radio and click it off.
the classical nocturne of Chopin disappears into thin air.
I put out my cigarette,
cork the bottle of wine.
I type one last poem,
before the end of the night,
before the night goes away
into the past.
Then I think to myself,
Goodbye old day,
oh, what memories I created along with the shining of the sun?
Then I write about the midnight slowly approaching,
slowly climbing to the zero hour,
the hour of:
a new day,
a new hour,
a new life,
a new start,
a new woman,
a new adventure,
a new everything,
a new anything,
a new politician,
a new choice of lunch,
a new walk around the block,
a new time,
a new day,
a new sun,
and a new moon,
and after a new day,
a new night,
and another midnight,
and a new cigarette with be lit,
a new bottle of wine will be open,
and drunk with responsibility,
and all will be good
and everything with come into place,
with a new day,
and a new life,
a new midnight.
The start of a night soon will come.

It is now 11:52 P.M. 

I've been writing
for seven minutes,
eight more minutes till a new day,
till a new beginning!
I'm tired,
I'm going to bed.
Have a goodnight.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013