Writing 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 |
-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 | 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 | Epic |
This pledge that l,Ntando, make today serves
as my guideline that I shall follow
happily, ungrudgingly and tirelessly
for the sake of our love life.
Indeed l am well aware of the fact that
the beauty of this pledge does not only lie
in word alone but in action as well.

For that reason in every season
I shall show steadfast commitment
to the implementation of this pledge
with a great deal of astuteness.
I therefore commit myself to be your
devoted and delivering husband for
all the years l shall live with you
on this earth.

I shall treat you with the love and care
you deserve as my wife.
Indeed l shall treat you with
the distinction and dignity
that is befitting of the queen of my heart.
That body, that bone, that breath
shall be my mine to treasure,
for sure;
a dearness to promote and protect
for dear life…and love!
I shall stand by and with you in all the
situations of our life.
If the situation demands that we sail,
sail we shall together.
If the situation demands that we
climb,
climb we shall together.

I know very well what l am getting into:
I am getting into a marriage that is
overflowing with blessings.
This marriage- with our mutual
commitment-
will stand the test of time.
I know very well what I am getting into:
I am getting into a relationship that
brims over with a transforming power
of love.

This marriage-with our
mutual commitment –
will transform naivety into maturity
troubles into challenges
pretence into practice
pride into progress
bachelorship into companionship.
I pledge to be your steward and partner
for all times.

I shall value the consultations
and decisions that we make as
husband and wife.
As head of the family I shall do nothing

 

to derail our love train for anything else
least of all for personal and selfish reasons.
Now and forever

I am your lawful and loving husband…
This pledge that l, Nothando, make today serves
as my guideline that I shall follow
happily, ungrudgingly and tirelessly
for the sake of our love life.
Indeed I am well aware of the fact that
the beauty of this pledge does not only
lie in pronouncements but in practice
as well.

For this reason every season
I shall demonstrate untiring love
and loyalty to you;
a love and a loyalty that is a living
embodiment of our marriage vows.
I therefore commit myself to be your
honouring, supportive and loving wife
for all the years l shall live with you.
I shall treat you with the love and care
that you deserve as my husband.
Indeed I shall treat you with
the dignity and nobility that is befitting
of the king of my heart.
On my mind it is always fresh
that I am the flesh of your flesh.
Green or grown

I am the bone of your bone.
I know very well what I am getting into:
I am getting into a relationship that
elevates me into a kingdom of wifehood.
I shall endevour to put my family first
with all the rights, obligations
and privileges that come with wifehood.
I shall endevour to wipe off and ward off
loneliness and lostness from our relationship,
seeking nothing but your companionship;
banking on your stewardship,
sinking together any hardship.
Since you are mine
I shall not do anything else to undermine
our relationship for personal
or egotistical
reasons.
Now and forever
I am your lawful and loving wife…

Copyright © Ndaba Sibanda | Year Posted 2012

Details | I do not know? |
Raindrops
are like my thoughts
falling down into my mind
sending goose bumps down
my spine

Their cool aftermath
cleanses me of my thoughts
of fear and uncertainty 
about what tomorrows
pain may bring

They make me feel,
wet with creativity
drenched in my optimistic
illumination. glistening
raindrops, my thoughts
leave paths of pleasurable
distress, and hope of success
which road, less traveled
may be the best

Forget an umbrella
when these raindrops
arrive, I walk outside
arms open wide

Ready to Receive
whatever
the mind storm may bring
because raindrops are
as my thoughts, falling
down into my mind
sending shivers down
my spine

My brain, yearns
for the rain, to wash away
the pain, tomorrows worry
does bring
One special drop
could speed up life's clock
to the time
I can handle my own
and not dwell inside my controllers
home

For raindrops are,
like my thoughts
falling down into my mind
sending goose bumps
down my spine

Copyright © Heather Hill | Year Posted 2010

Details | Lyric |
 
If the spirit moves me I will speak
 I will share words
 that no-one wants to hear
 I will speak them
 I will speak them loud and clear
 If the spirit moves me

 
If the spirit moves me I will see
 I will see Beauty
 that no-one else can see
 I will see it far and near
 around me and in all things
 If the spirit moves me

 
If the spirit moves me I will hear
 I will hear things
 no-one else can hear
 I will hear the universe
 speaking to me and I will hear
 If the spirit moves me

 
If the spirit moves me
 I will feel
 I will feel the pain of others
 I will feel their happiness too
 I will be able to empathize
 If the spirit moves me
 

If the spirit moves me
 I will taste joy and laughter
 I will live my life in peace
 I will find love
 I will live on in the ever-after
 If the spirit moves me

 
© Christine A Kysely All Rights Reserved
 (October 25, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin USA)

Copyright © christine a kysely | Year Posted 2011

Details | Rhyme |
Feeling like a lodger
In my own home
Thankful for my music
And my new found roam

Families and communities
They are just so hard to find
But in April 2009
I found the most precious kind

I found the name amusing
So the button i clicked on to see
The layout was very inviting
Like an open door should be

For in a matter of minutes
On first uploading a poem
This Highlander was content
He had found a welcome home

So many lovely writers
Poets who share their bless
No longer this Scotsman is
The Man in the Wilderness



http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/me.php

Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2009

Details | Blank verse |
All I see is beauty in the burning of her words,
The flickering of flames,
Constructs of fires licking at the night
From snow white sheets of dreaming.

The senses of her bleeding, ink and roses,
Sensual vibrancy,
Gliding rails streaming to the stars,
The links between the earth and heaven’s tide.

All I see is beauty in the visions of her art,
The tenderness of angels,
Architects of chapels wrought of lace,
An arbitrary grace of love.

The impressions of her breathing, saffron breath,
Exhaling of her soul,
Bestow of sleeping kisses to the lips,
Priestess of the mind and loin.

Copyright © Tony Bush | Year Posted 2006

Details | Rhyme |
My favourite chair
Said to me one night
Hey! Highlander
What you going to write
 
Is it going to be a fantasy
A Haiku or a Senyru
What ever comes from your thoughts
It's from the inner you
 
I have supported and rested 
While you have written your writes
From many an afternoon
Into the early morning light
 
You never get frustrated
You just sit and ponder
For you know there are words
They are just out yonder
 
This partnership we have
Will remain as close as ever
Until the end of our days
Will be the time to sever
 
We will continue to be
One and the same
I to support you
With poetry your aim


My entry into Matt Caliri's contest " Speak chair! Speak! "



http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/poetry-soup-2.php

Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2009

Details | Couplet |
As the trials of life come and go
Accept there blessings into your soul

Let them become without a doubt
A model of what you're all about

Don't let them get you all depressed
All things in life need be addressed

Let your spirit be like the wind
Your unseen dearest friend

As I see the lines in my face
Each a reminder of certain place

Do I wish they would go away?
Or that my hair wasn't turning grey

I have no desire to regain youth
For I have learned to speak my truth

When I was young I was so lost
I let my soul pay the cost

Running hard against the grain
Using drugs to kill the pain

Now I feel each and every day
Use the Lord to take the pain away

Do what I can accepting what I get
Treasure blessings that come of it

Thank the Lord through the poems I pray
Use what I need give the rest away

I seem to be driven by a single goal
Can you feel my heart and soul?

I slice them open in hopes they will bleed
Something that someone might need

The single fear I know so well
The fear that my words will fail

So once again I face my fear
As I write I shed my tears

Because these words are spoken true
My heart belongs to all of you

And through it's love I hope to show
We all share a single soul

A soul that is bound by love
Given us by the Lord above

Copyright © Michael Jordan | Year Posted 2007

Details | Free verse |
       As the ink touches my writing pad every letter seems to glow.
I feel I'm going mad watching sentences light so bright like a rainbow!
       Each word seems to hypnotize and my mind begins to travel.
I watch through brown eyes as the poem begins to unravel!

       Nouns and adjectives make up each dazzlingword.
The exclamation at the end of certain sentences compliment my verbs!
       Yellow, red, and blue hues reflect my mood.
Each paragraph shows a little bit more attitude!

       I wonder how so many colors can come together and still coexist?
The stanza's flutter light as a feather never tiring my wrist.
       My rainbow of letters in my sentence3s never cease to amaze me.
A canvas of art within my heart is the color of poetry!!!

Darkness fell across my writing pad, putting my stanza's in gloom.
I just knew I would go mad as I looked around the pitch dark room.
In the darkness I felt the push of my pen, and went with the flow.
A premonition again, and looked down to see each letter begin to glow!
Even the punctuation seemed to have a bluish hue, that illuminated my eyes.
I had a huge sense of deja-vu and the color of poetry I begin to recognize!

Each letter stood out all alone, and brighter they seem to grow.
Sentences like different colors of gemstones looked like a horizontal rainbow!
My pen begin to dance, having an aura of a brilliant white.
The stanza's begin to tell of a romance that would soon under the moon ignite!
I couldn't believe it had to do with me, and my head started to spin.
A love I wanted to achieve begin with the color of poetry all over again!!


*See pixs of me and other poems @ PoetryPub.ning.com (Jimmy M. Anderson

Copyright © Jimmy Anderson | Year Posted 2010

Details | Senryu |
‘The Power Of A Poet’      32nd  Senryu


        Look How Devoted
       The Power of A Poet
    See How Words Spoke It



This Poem is My Tribute to:

Carolyn Devonshire (The Dove)
and James (The Highlander) Fraser
for your Powerful collaboration on:

      Mother Nature's Revenge

        It Was Truly Awesome

              MoonBee

Copyright © MoonBee Canady | Year Posted 2009

Details | Free verse |
Some people are voices
On the edge of rocks
With steep slopes and cliffs.
Some people are echoes
At the bottom of walls
Carved by rushing waters.

Copyright © Leon Stacey | Year Posted 2007

Details | Quatrain |
Erase a word
Mundane and wrought
Smoldering fire
Of indifferent thought

Pluck a phrase
Wild and untamed
Primordial howl
Of random flame

Sing a verse
Naked and free
Poetic gale
Of crashing seas

Tell a tale
Endearing and true
Passionate prose
Of life’s muse

Ask a heartbeat
Women and men
Who feels
100 shards of pen

Copyright © Xavier Keough | Year Posted 2005

Details | Salaam |
Shikayat Toh Sabhi Karte hai
Par shikayat karoge Kab Tak

Haqeeqat Ki Talaash To Sabko Hai
Par Haqeeqat Talaashoge Kab Tak

Jo Bhi Hai
Yehi Zindagi Hai Bas

Jilo Thoda Iseh
Zinda Ho Jab Tak

Copyright © shadab shaikh | Year Posted 2013

Details | Lyric |
I want to be inspired to write
    a song people really want to sing;
I want to be inspired to compose
    a requiem for the King;
But, I’m just an ordinary man
    doing the best I can
        at writing poems
            that have no homes.

I want to be inspired to find
    a cure for this cancer thing;
I want to be inspired to reach
    out for the golden ring;
But, I’m just an ordinary man
    doing the best I can
        at getting by
            with the good old college try.

I want to be inspired to lead
    a revolutionary coup;
I want to be inspired to be
    the best at everything I do;
But, I’m just an ordinary man
    doing the best I can
        to make ends meet
            and not live on the street.

I have the motivation;
I’ll put in the perspiration;
I can give it concentration;
But, I lack the inspiration;

Inspire me.
What will it take to inspire me?

I want to be inspired to write
    a song people really want to sing;
I want to be inspired to compose
    a requiem for the King;
But, I’m just an ordinary man
    doing the best I can
        at writing poems
            that have no homes.

Copyright © Joe Flach | Year Posted 2011

Details | I do not know? |
As I place the pen
on paper
my soul beings
to bleed
upon the pages
my secret longings
hopes and dreams
of which I hope to be,
how I want to reflect me
transpire into the universe
within my poetic lyricism
the warm sweet smoke
of my vega blunt
swirls about me, flickers
in and out of motion
as the vanilla candle nearby
fights the shadows in my room
the cool summer breeze
from my window
carries dancing sinsemilla 
fog around me, allowing
my mind
to adventure elsewhere
into the nights abyss
of minutes, turned to hours
I write
pages, of words
scribbling my life, struggles
and fears
Bob Marley and Lauryn Hills
“turn your lights down low”
beat inspirational peacefulness
on my eardrums
my small hands delicately pluck
my imaginary guitar strings
as I join her in a solo, Miss Hill's
magical voice cracks
with emotion, and my soul
tingles with excitement
For creativity flows
within my veins
I breath real music, such as
she, as soon as daylight opens
thine dark brown eyes to see
The poetic flowetry, carries me
and speaks to me
the notes capture my inner 
disturbance and desires
until the soundtrack of my day
takes me into Summers night
thoughts of my dreams 
of being a published poet
clearly float
into my sight
Then, I sit
as I place my pen
upon the paper
black and white turn to one
and my soul bleeds
onto pages
into an early sun

Copyright © Heather Hill | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse |

Just the thought of you
inspires me to heights
of grandiosity and elegance

You coerce me to create
writings, poems of distinction
indubitably perchance

How does this entrancing
energy transpose into art,
permutations of heights

drifting through ions
of transposition, toughness
circumcises deliverance

It's a mystical phenomenon
that's existed for ages,
from the inception

of humanity's ineptness
through the age of technology
bolstered by craters

of existential drifting
through generations
parallel to the Muse.

Copyright © Frank Sheehan | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |

In the dusty cobwebs of my inspirational mind,
I’ve written volumes of scripted details, pondered
Epic thoughts, and let mine imagination roam the
Fields of complete abandonment.
A wild child of freedom’s reckless spirit, I’m dived
Head first into the untamed wilderness of the human
Stratosphere, seeking beyond the unknown country
Of the mental unconscious mind, then free fallen into
The waves of insecurity, rescued by mine own self
Sustaining life preserver, called survival.
Line by line I’ve written into my life journal, leaving a
Legacy behind me worth preservation’s finest gilding,
Bound are these pages of mine existence with love,
Tenderness, and freshly cut rose petals, of remembrance.
Reflected in the cover of my life book, are the joyous
Faces of those whom loved me beyond words of
Expressions comprehension, without emotions tears
For they celebrate my life, not with sorrows regrets
But with prides respect and honor.
Through hell’s fire I’ve rambled and traveled, being
Tested by friend and foe alike, but I’ve lifted myself
Beyond the flames of reality, bathing within the warmth
Of a divine faith of loves power everlasting.
I’ve been given the spark of the eternal, it breathes
Within me, it drives my spiritual being, to over come
Ignorance, intolerance and ambience sloth of spirit.
At times I’ve been tempted to dance, against the flame
That flickers in the night, teasing me, taunting me,
To choose wrong or right, but mine feet stood stead
Fast, yielding only in my secret world of dreams escape.
Yes I’ve mused amongst the fantasy realm,
Flying, soaring into the abyss of illusions mirrors,
Clashing as a bird smacking at the glass of reality,
But I’ve awakened wiser, a soldier better prepared
For the battle known as life.
In this journal I bequeath all that is the best of myself,
To those for whom I’ve touched, and in memories moments
Of stilled realization that I’ve gone, dare let no tears blind
Thine vision let no words of sorrow spill from your trembling
Lips just do me the one last favor for which I ask of thee,
Simply look upwards, and smile.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
The swordsman who draws his blade
Heart racing at the keening of steel on scabbard 
Tension coiled, poised for the unleashing
Held back by muscles tight with glee.

I am as the soldier, held in stance,
The lioness crouched beneath the concealing grass
As it sways back and forth, as insects sing along the day
Her every breath is halted, her veins do not pulse,
And just as the swordsman stands
They are statues in this moment,
Statues of derision,
Mocking, with their stillness, the very charged tension within.

And I am as the lioness frozen before her pounce
Coiled with motivation and purpose,
And I am as the tongue held with words clinging off its’ edge
Ready to lash out and strike with direction
But I am as the frozen purpose, held tight
Waiting, for a warrior to stand before me
For a reason to uncoil, to lash out with words and pounce.

But I am now as the pen halting before the purest of paper
White and supple, in askance for the lightest touch
A slash of the tip, drawing lines in ink
Lines like a hunter’s bowstring, taut with intent,

As the pen lies frozen above its prey, the falcon petrified aloft still winds
I am the need coiled tight like a wound jack in the box
But alas, there is no victim to frighten,
No pray to pounce upon, no sword or bared neck to slash against
And I am here, with pen frozen, ink ready to be drawn taut
And I have nothing to draw in the ink, no prey or purpose to evoke
I am coiled tight with energy, but it is release that so eludes me,
I am coiled tight with purpose, but it is direction that so denies me.

And here I am, pouncing at ground before me, 
Slicing away at the air around me
Scratching away with a dry pen, on paper still white in askance
I write about…
I write about the coil within, and the lack without
And alone I wonder,
Is it enough, is it enough to go on, a wound up box
Waiting for the slightest touch, the weakest parry, to live.

Copyright © Samir Georges | Year Posted 2011

Details | Rhyme |
My own piece of heaven, a quiet little nook,
With only the finest parchment in a leather book,
A feather quill pen and an ocean of ink,
My thoughts would never stop to think,
Every single line I write would rhyme,
My poetry would be beautiful and sublime,
I'd be entertained daily, by Dr. Seuss,
And, put to sleep nightly, by Mother Goose,
Lessons from Byron, Shelley, Coleridge and Poe,
Teaching me every single thing that they know.

My own piece of heaven, will have to wait,
Until one day, when I must meet my fate,
So, for now I will have to be content,
With my own words that may be heaven sent,
Inspiration from my idols is all I need,
Writing poetry in a notebook from Mead,
With this cheap, plastic Bic pen,
And a dream to be, just like them.

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry |
There Are A Thousand Treasures Of Kings
Worth More, Than All The Wealth, There Could Be !
Some Say, It’s In A Kingdom Of Dreams
Others Say, It’s As Real As You & Me

The Legend Says, There’s A Kingdom Of Love
In A Kingdom, Far Away & Above
Kings-Treasures, To Be Claimed By The Best
Those Worthy Of Courage, To Quest

& So, This Is Where I’ll Start, My Friend,
Tho’, This Isn’t Where The Real Tale Begins
You See, There Was A Merry Band Of Adventurers
Who Went On A Quest, As Treasure-Gatherers

There Was Moses, The Freedom-Circle-Rider
Stayed His Course, Like An Eagle-Glider
There Was Goff, The Monk Of Sky and Trees
His Visions Of Life, Were As Open As Doors With Keys

There Was Kendricks, The Keeper Of ‘Interesting’ Tracks
& Marty, Of The Hale & Hearty & Power-Pen Pack
There Was Adell of Deep Wells  … & Dio, The Devoted
& Dame Brown Of Mountain-Ground, So Sweetly-Noted

There Was An Irish Lass, O’Leary Of Laughter
& The Golden Daughter Of Grace & Audrey Of Gifted-Banter
& Devonshire, The Dove &  Highlander Of Heather-Cove
Of First To Join Search:  For Soup & Treasure-Trove

Of Course, We Have A Prince Of Passion Land
& Ismael, A  Dream-Merchant From His Own Island
The Prince, Paints Of Pleasures; The Islander Speaks of Treasures
Both Know Of Biggest Royal Cache That We Could Ever Measure !

There Came Tim, The Archer Of The Wit-Forest
& A Determined Mother with Son, The Lady Doris
Maid Adams, Who Teaches How To Keep Cold Away
& The Lightning-Voice Of Linda Marie, Keeps Wolves At-Bay

There Is Sir Lamoureu of Sir Lancelot's Order
He Wields Words In Articulate Axes & Armor
And To Those Who Dare Say Chivalry Is Dead ...
Is Because -The Sonnets of Sir Lamoureu, They Have Not Read
& The Legendary Language That  Sir Lamoureu Pledge

Then There's Lady Linda, A Chatelaine & A Poet Destroyer
But  She Only Versus The Verses of The Vanity Voyeurers
Her Skill With Quill Accurately Quite Accords
As Proof of Pens Being Mightier Than Swords

We Have A Pretty Elf Known As Anne Lise Andresen
Her Piquant Topics of Poetry Makes Her Our Taliesin
And We Have Our Very Own Kind Maid Merryman
She Transports Adventures Better Than A Ferryman

Part 1  of  2

Copyright © MoonBee Canady | Year Posted 2009

Details | Quatrain |
The writing is on the wall.


The writing is on the wall, an old saying used even until today
for those found lacking or deficient, Divine judgement is on the way
It means that there has been a weighing done on the scales of justice
by an impartial God who knows us, and the good or bad we practice.

The writing is on the wall even today, in our ultra modern society
for those who choose critical and independent thinking, instead of piety
for those who deny there is a God, or who simply worship in their own way
for those whose judgemental hypocrisy is super abundantly on display

The writing is on the wall, for all warmongers filled with nationalistic hate
For all those inciting our youth to violence, malevolent voices that resonate
The writing is on the wall, for those who say good is bad, and that bad is good
and for those who kill the innocent child, it's well deserved and understood.



Writing on the wall comes from the Bible Daniel chapter 5 where the Babylonian King is judged  by God's handwritten cryptic message on the wall. The prophet Daniel interprets the writing and the King was killed and replaced that same evening. Consequently the expression the writing on the wall portends judgement and destruction.

John Derek Hamilton

April 19, 2016

Copyright © John Hamilton | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
so, i got to thinking
about all those words
planted in my language
where fertility grew them
to leave and stalk and pod

the farmer's words scatter
my fields like seed on clod
watered by thundering flashes
awash, fertilized and germinating

progeny seedlings, my own growth
in some time-lapse photography
writhing their creamy roots
into earthy loam and droning
on through a summer daze

into fruits of sweaty labors 
on humid chlorophylled days
silks sultry green, stalking me
through rows and rows as far
as i can see, if i squint

the farmer, suspended in time
stands with his hands in pocket
or on some implement toed to soil
and surveys life's prospects 
for this season, before the

days bake the green back into 
the humus and the cornucopia 
spills the field and orchard
this verse of the farmer's song
picked and stowed away cool

eyes closed now, ears gently
strain to hear, worldly phrasing
come from where? my larder
or some ancestor gleaning meaning
and dropping it into her apron

to carry home to hungry minds
to feed them something of today
and sustain them through a fallow
solstice and the chilled breeze

any cultivation harvested over
picked clean and harrowed flat
nearly time to plow it under again
while the farmer gazes the horizon
and sips something in his cup

© Goode Guy 2011-08-22

Copyright © Goode Guy | Year Posted 2011

Details | Verse |
Extraordinary, I am 
Craving for unusual thoughts
Endless exploration without boundary
Understanding  the gift I shouldn't fought
 
Invisible drawings in my mind
Playing with the words in my head
My passion
The food of my soul
 
I feel so lucky
The random thoughts
A lifetime companion
A self esteem builder
A goal planner
Be my forever life saver
 
I write more
I talk less
I want to please
I chose to bore
 
What tickles me the most
Is to know what I'm for
Thinking is my love
When  my mind goes empty
That's when I hate
 
My day dreaming lust
Organizing things in my mind
Playing roles of simulation
Where images of art is my vision
And words of attitude is my heart

Copyright © Katrina Salem | Year Posted 2012

Details | Prose Poetry |
Burning so bright
With new found life
Released from his ball and chain
Out of the dark
And into the light
Flying… on wings of freedom again.

As he writes his life
His soul ignites
In flames of wisdom and sight
Brilliantly claiming 
His God given right
As his truth kills the evil ‘Black Knight’.



Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2006

Details | Free verse |
Winter's Rose

white frost streaks her hair
smooth ice-sculpture skin of youth
     stroked by cracks
            wrinkles that have weathered life
                 skin once firmly packed sags

in the mirror a figure she doesn’t recognize
    but she laughs
          budding spring beauty
               summer rose that danced through seemingly timeless evenings

restless rebellion came with fall
     withering, yearning

but winter, sweet winter
fills her heart with warm memories
     resignation, acceptance of a life well-lived
               a spirit that will never die

winter’s rose smiles, prepares for eternal life


*Entry for Gail's "Inspirational" poems contest
by Carolyn Devonshire

I can't believe the wonderful contest idea I have been missing out on since I took my brief break from Soup this past weekend. I came back to find many posts of Carolyn Devonshire's most amazing work. And so it was my goal tonight before logging off, to look through my list of favorites and see which one I would choose to showcase. 

Well, there were at least five of her poems that I just loved: "A Forgotten Box," the senryu set "Candlelight Passion," an adorable personification of flowers called "Flower Prom," the profound poem of imagination called "Unicorn," and last but not least, the one shown above here, "Winter's Rose." I decided on this one because earlier today in talking with Carolyn, she expressed to me that "Winter's Rose" happened to be one of her personal favorites. I was so pleased to discover that it was also one I had chosen to put into MY favorites list about a month ago! 

"Winter's Rose" is a poet's look into her own soul. And she uses metaphors of the seasons, something I personally enjoy doing in my own poetry. I love when Carolyn writes this way and I agree with her, this is one of her very best free verse poems ever! I hope Carolyn will continue with her restless spirit well into the deepest of winters. She is an awesome friend and poet! (Carolyn, may your memories be happy ones always. And know that you have many friends here rooting for you. Luv, Andrea )

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme |
Magniloquent words of an empurpled writer. Where lofty, yet showily expressed words make details brighter. Concise, rhetorically composed words made solely for an effect. Causing pithy comments to draw a picture, for readers to connect. The complexion and pigment of colorful words then meld into a spectral light. Blended with the authors passion for the topic, causing both to ignite. .... Smooth white sands blow across the dune Distant notes from a banjo floats into a tune. Ancient ironweed graces the desert with vibrant color As sunset beckons for twilight to be evenings romantic caller. Beach peas and daisies grow between cliffs of living stone Stand embellished fig trees on seeded winds were flown. ..... Written with a shimmer of color floating on an iridescent feather. Titillates the plateau of ones senses on aromatic breezes of white heather. first three have definitions to words in each stanza center three stanza's and last are examples of expression relative to the first three. Carole Cookie Arnold 2009

Copyright © Carole Cookie Arnold | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme |
As i stare at this paper
empty
without words
it waits for me to write
so my feelings can be heard
inspiration came often
when we were together
words flowed freely
my pen
light as a feather

Fate has a reputation
of never being wrong
it takes destiny by the hand
and grips it forever strong
now this paper
which once was alive
quietly stares back at me
with dull loose leaf eyes
it mocks me
even dares me
to write words i couldn't speak for years
but, without you
the forecast calls for emptiness
with a good chance of tears

Inspiration comes from within
your smile always gave me my start
but these days my pen lay heavy
and so quietly broken
like a roadmap of your heart
for soulmates are rare
to let one go........even worse
now this pen and paper
who once were my companions
are now the very things i curse

So i put my pen down
and tuck the paper away for the night
and maybe tomorrow
just maybe
words i couldn't speak
i'll be able to write......


Copyright © Kurt Kohls | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse |
YOU’RE THE WEAK ONE


You’re the weak one, you’re a bully.  The weak one is definitely
not me.

The bully is always the weak one, but your weakness you can’t
seem to see.

So, I’m going to try to shed a little light on your weak and inappropriate ways.

Your weakness began on your first bullying day.

Your false sense of power is not strength at all; it is a cry for help desperately trying to break through.

I actually feel a little sorry for you.

Weak kids like you always seek to find other kids they can dominate.

Bullies do this with vicious words, inappropriate actions, and misguided hate. 

Is being a weak bully the banner you want to carry for the rest of your life?

Get rid of the bully banner forever; take up a banner that shows respect, 
understanding, and tolerance for others, and always hold that one very high.

	Al Johnson
 

Copyright © Al Johnson | Year Posted 2012