Him Beautiful Poems | Examples
These Him Beautiful poems are examples of Beautiful poems about Him. These are the best examples of Beautiful Him poems written by international poets.
I look back at my dad's radio
Shuffling through the channels
Cause the signal is too weak
But my dad will wait in awe
When the presenter starts off at the top of the hour
You'd see my dad fixed in his stool
Still to get to hear the nation address
The words of hope he hopes to hear
It's been many decades now but he's still keen
He's never wavered in what the country could be
And he's served it well
Like a true statesman, he put his family first
The radio brought together the whole village
It's where the hearts converged
And drummed all through the hour
Before the drums kept beating from a distance
That radio has seen the best of the years
From the regimes that got us out of houses to cheer on
To regimes that made it possible for kids to get an education
To the one who built futuristic roads
I bought him a new radio
But it doesn't sound like the old one
But he's eager to turn it on
And not miss the news
The PO£T
It was a bright day—
I was walking down the street
when I saw him.
Headphones on,
a smile resting easy on his face—
as if even the smile
was drawn to him.
He walked past me
like I wasn’t there.
But I froze,
turned back…
and giggled.
Before the void happened to me,
you happened, or more precisely your voice
came across oceans
—Fate was feeling kind that day, I imagine,
with your voice she weaved
a lifeline, pulled me back
across black water—
You happened, and the void,
while still there, doesn’t pull anymore.
The murk can no longer devour
when you are twilight, a
soft-lit haven against nihility.
In the lone, moonless night, a polaris—
I reach out with both arms
and no passage plan
—You’d take my hands, wouldn’t you?
Before the void took mine,
I found you.
I am your love
And you're my soul
They are much adhesive alike
Making our hearts close
I heard our heartbeats
Sounding strong and loud
They are solidifying the toughness
In the boiling crowds
I could be a stream
You are of the flow
Together we're wandering in the fields
Growing love and souls
I could be an angel
Flying in the sky
Having you're around me
I always follow your guide
You're my love
I am your soul
we are together a scene
growing love and soul
Couldn't have dreamt this,
His tender first kiss,
Nibbled his lips,
Kissed my fingertips,
Kissed molasses hair,
Love his kissing flair,
Kissed a thousand times,
His mouth just rhymes,
Our attraction,
Love in action,
Lip sync bliss,
Love his kiss,
Kissing sublime,
Withstood all time.......
Share our big happies,
You are best of chappies,
Having spirited love,
Blesses our daily dove....
Laughing fun smiles,
Your charm still beguiles,
Trade future today,
In our favourite way....
Yes, happy dance,
Always our romance,
Blissful love haze,
Happy good old days!
Sunshine and revelry steeped the day like sweet tea dripping over a glass's edge. Overflow dribbling down rejuvenated the laughter of the gut and burst forth into an excess of jubilation. The cup wants to be filled with adulation for the man to drink; the man is a goblet steeped by the day. Over him jumps his spirit, blooming amidst his body's celebration into a new stance, pose, and guise. The transvaluation of the spirit leads it to elevation, upwards, it laughs yes, raising the cup and dousing its thirst—the birth of a madman steeped in sunshine and revelry.
In the middle of the scorching hot sun
I met a breeze.
It was fair,
tall, and calm.
The breeze smiled,
I don't know for who,
maybe for me,
maybe for the universe.
His frame was cold,
yet for some reason,
he was warm.
His smile was the most endearing thing that had ever existed.
he looked so beautiful, like a pure white cloak, dancing along with the wind.
He left a very strong impression,
He looked like a stoic person.
But the more I see of him,
the more he seemed to be a genuine person.
Dark tiny dots,
I guess the word "beauty mark"
really wasn't just a mark people use to differentiate a person,
but a sign that a person is truly loved,
it's a perfection, a confession,
a mark of eternal love.
There's nothing like the fragrant, handsome man
Who drifts into my bright imagination.
I will chase him down wherever I can,
As a sacred spark of transformation.
Perhaps his spirit lives within my mind,
And he lifts me up when my real beau cheats.
That star-eyed angel is gentle and kind.
We meet afar, in astral projection.
Why care for men who cheat in daily life,
Who scroll through screens to charm the Internet,
Forever chasing some beautiful wife,
But not having found their true model yet?
If my angel finds me, I will be free
Since he has already enlightened me!
Love is thinner than a piece of cheesecloth,
transparent yet confusing to navigate.
More conservative than a political debate
More hearts are broken than mended
.
I am determined to search globally for an end to this love.
We desire it fiercely and embrace our fate to heal humanity.
Love may be a fleeting remedy,
Yet we pursue it with fervent desire,
Yearning to feel complete.
How many times must love deceive us
How many times must we yearn to feel complete?
How many times will we be let down by this thing called love?
He loves me, or he doesn’t.
I love him, but he chooses to reject my advances.
His heart clearly desires someone else.
Love is a cross that many of us must bear.
It can be a profound and challenging burden to carry.
However, I feel empathy for its victims in relation to what we call love.
Love cannot be controlled or confined
Never had I heard a flutter so clear!
nor more distinct than the settle of midnight wings;
Soft gray wings spreading, fanning
coming to gentle fold,
soon to follow, a nightingale's song,
lilting the air.
Such a blessed union is rare!
Light and dark shadows tranquilly sharing space
One perfect moment seemingly forgiving,
as gentle as the harmonious embrace,
of bird and sky !
Never have I felt so powerful against the night !
no more indefinite than a feather in the wind.
My heart beating slow as time
comes to a standstill before the soft caress
of a nightingale in flight!
Chiaroscuro moments on the soul
oh how I wish that I had wings
to fly and meet him in mid air....
never had I heard a flutter so clear nor a song
so very dear to me...
The End.
A creation by Joe and Mystic
I give thanks to the man who began this venture
and gave me a chance to fly with it lol
Walking to Rome
On my way to Rome, I walked with a group
of Jews who had left Israel because it had
become a racist state
The Jews were a group of young men and
women on their way to Rome to seek an
audience with the Papa to ask him to take
a stance against the orgy of brutality
against the Palestinians
Their goal was the creation of a Palestine
They, as Jews, could be a part of a new future
I listened to their ideology, and they were
Young enough believed in the shared dream
I knew that, should they see the P, he would
be nice to them and speak in a measured
voice, because the Papacy was a political
too, and nothing must upset the balance
I don't know if they got an audience with the pope
But I learned something vital, I had tended
to speak about the Jews in a negative form
and didn't see the difference between Zionism and Jews
As for me, I met a wonderful woman at Travessa
de Santa Maria and had a splendid time
The voice within, a whisper bruised,
Fights the noise the world has used
To carve a man from primal bone
To cage the beast, to leash the lone.
The mind, a mat where wars unfold,
Instincts wild, but nurtured cold.
They tame him not with chains or rods,
But with applause and wooden Gods.
He wears the mask, rehearsed and tight,
Performs by day, forgets by night.
Painted smiles, a jester’s role
Each laugh, a wounded soul.
Temptation hangs like a golden fruit,
But plucked, it tastes of ash and soot.
He dances for a wage, a name,
A line in ledgers, rank and fame.
Rituals rot in daily spin,
A prayer to clocks, a suit for sin.
Validation, the new divine,
Poured like wine to numb decline.
Frustration bubbles, seeks escape,
But lids get screwed in human shape.
No scream escapes the echo’s hold,
The cage is warm, the bars are gold.
A one-way street with silent bends,
From cradle’s cry to coffin ends.
And what shall grace his stone in sleep?
“He lived to please. He died too deep.”
I have a great God who can do great things!
I choose great thoughts to see what it brings!
I paint my life in great, my thoughts are my brush.
A masterpiece takes time, so I will not rush.
Everyday for me is great! that's what I choose to see.
I expect God my Creator to make it reality!
He says it don't require great faith, just a mustard seed.
Trust in Him, not money because that leads to greed!
Everyday upon awakening I say "My Life Is Great!"
God will change something in me, I'll be patient and wait.
Trusting in Him makes me feel so good.
If anyone can do this, I guarantee you He could!
EVER HEART
Every heart surely beats;
Every step our soles meet;
We are walking on rainbow; streets of gold;
Soul empathy, ever heart
Our voice assurance;
We lift up God whose current;
In my mind;
In my heart;
He us love incarnate;
And my praise,
shall lift Him up;
Open up my mouth;
A praise and shout;
My Father's Ever Heart;
6/28/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2025