Best 10Th Grade Poems | Poetry

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Why God from when I was in 10th grade by Adams, Jeron

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The Best 10Th Grade Poems

 
Details | 10Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Love is a bond

Love is the confluence of two peoples,
this bond is of two relationships,
one is way and one is the destination.
One of the hearts of both heart beats.
This is the bond of all their births.
Love is the confluence of two peoples,


Copyright © Kishan sharma | Year Posted 2018

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You are more than what eyes can see

You are not what they think of you,
Your heart doesn't change when your hair gets hue.

You are not the fashion trend you follow,
You are above perceptions which are hollow.

Your bright lipstick is just an accessory,
It shouldn't change due to sarcasm or decree.

Your tone shouldn't overrule your statement,
Your no is denial and your yes is the agreement.

Your smile is mere happiness, not a proposal,
Your stands in an argument are views, they don't make you unfilial.

Your body is a sheath for your soul,
You must never accept judgements for a part or the whole.

For, you are precious and a blessing on the earth,
Nobody can do your job and can ever fill your dearth.


Copyright © Deepika Srivastava | Year Posted 2018




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Advice Not From Your Mother


Yes, I say you should seek the absurd,
 the outrageous, 
the deliriously mad.

I implore you to find the happy,
the joyful,
those crazed with perpetual glad.

Spend your time 
with insanely laughing idiots, 
where tomfoolery abounds.

You won’t have time
to resent a day of your life 
with this kind 
of tribe around.




Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2018

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Here's Why My CV Needs Work

NAME: Phil Latio LLB (Law) PhD (Medicine) FSC (Federation Starfleet Commander)

AGE: Pass

SEX: Well, I was born a male if that helps!

CONTACT DETAILS: Probably best I contact you. I'm currently residing at an undisclosed location awaiting the findings of a Securities and Exchange Commission investigation.

NATIONALITY: I am a citizen of this world and beyond.

NATIVE LANGUAGE: Don't know any - is that gonna be a problem?

MARITAL STATUS: Fantastic! Couldn't be better. Well, pretty good...to be honest it needs attention...okay, it sucks...alright, I can't breathe - it's a total buzzkill. I go to bed at night hoping my spleen will rupture and I'll bleed out before I wake!

EDUCATION: Umm, I remember an abacus and my lunchbox.

FURTHER TRAINING: Yeah, went back to school and progressed to a calculator and a Battlestar Galactica cooler (for my beer) and blitzed it, completing 10th Grade graduating in the top 84% of my class.

RECENT WORK HISTORY: Too much to mention here.

LAST EMPLOYER: We had a sudden parting of the ways. At an informal business meeting it is alleged that I acted inappropriately. In my defence I do suffer from impaired hearing. What he actually said was to close the door and "hold my calls!".

PREFERRED HOURS: Lunch hour! Dinner Hour! Happy Hour!

SALARY: Due to the post-GFC hangover I'm willing to start as low as Meg Ryan's plastic surgeon's salary in my first year plus bribes (sorry, benefits). After that we can negotiate stock options, a bitchin' set of wheels, a Happy Hookers gold card membership and a generous bonus remuneration package commensurate with my flair and expertise!

MOST ADMIRED PERSON: I'm conflicted here. I'm torn between Hugh Hefner and Fabio. Actually, no I'm not - it's a no brainer. Hef may be old and his fun parts on life support but c'mon...he's Hef!

I AM CURRENTLY READING: A summons to appear before a Disciplinary Review Board. Don't know what that's about.

AMBITION: To get laid (like a lot - without having to beg). To hang with Hef in the Playboy Mansion...duh! To make enough money to wipe the smug superior smiles off the likes of Rupert Murdoch and Mark Zuckerberg and reduce them to bit players on my grand stage. Oh, and to dedicate myself in an orphanage doing God's work - not in Bangladesh or Africa, but like Vegas or Cabo!

ATTRIBUTES: I have more attributes than virgins at a Star Trek convention. I never do drugs at work. I never take credit for something I didn't do unless I want to screw some manipulative little grub over because he/she is a workplace cancer or because it's just the most fun you can have at work. Principles and loyalty mean everything to me, but not at the expense of career advancement and personal wealth creation. Also I'm always kind to widows and prostitues.

GREATEST ASSET: Probably my signed 1978 Cale Yarborough Nascar THIRST AID beer hat at Talledega - I've never been so shitfaced!

MOST NOTABLE ACHIEVEMENT: A judge once told me (after avoiding a lengthy period of incarceration) that not since OJ had he seen a more glaring miscarriage of justice. He said he'd seen more sympathetic defendants at Nuremberg and that I should count my lucky stars. Apparently some iron clad witness failed to show. I was set up anyway!

DISLIKES: Eyewitnesses and whistleblowers!

LIKES: My hobbies include: drinking beer! Gambling (but not with my own money). Computer hacking and identity fraud. Drinking beer! Amputee porn (if it's done tastefully). Peeking through a high powered telescope (I'm talking Hubble here) adjacent to beaches, water parks, gyms, tanning salons, high rise apartment buildings. Drinking beer! I also have a social conscience and I am an enthusiastic donor of sperm and blood, although I am urgently advised that I should seek treatment for both my conditions before resuming deposits.

POLITICAL VIEWS: I am a staunch Marxist...Groucho that is! Screw the workers - greed is good!

ANY COMPULSIVE BEHAVIOURS OR ADDICTIONS: Not when I'm sober or clean.

MEDICAL CONDITIONS: Just a little Mad Cow - nothing to be concerned about. Also a few misdiagnosed issues with my neurotransmitters. For this I attend a court ordered short weekly burst of electroconvulsive therapy for my dribbling and mood swings. It seems to be working - haven't had a psychotic episode in almost a week.
                 
FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS:

Q: WHAT DO YOU LOOK FOR IN A JOB?
A: Unbridled power. No accountability. Unaudited expense accounts. Extravagant perks. Insider trading opportunities. Access to foreign bank accounts in non-extradition jurisdictions. 

Q: HAVE YOU EVER COMMITTED A SEX CRIME?
A: Only against myself!

Q: HAVE YOU EVER BEEN CONVICTED OF A CRIME?
A: Convicted...no!

Q: HAVE YOU EVER LIED IN A JOB INTERVIEW?
A: Okay, you got me. Once I told an interviewer that the long awaited Baz Luhrmann epic "Australia" was a triumph, a tour de force, a masterful cinematic experience void of all cliché and formula and cultural cringe! That it resisted the urge for banal storytelling, fatuous caricatures and stereotypical farce. Well Baz, it was an epic...an epic fail!

Q: HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE YOUR PERSONALITY?
A: Which one? They're all quite manageable.

Q: WHERE DO YOU SEE YOURSELF IN FIVE YEARS?
A: In the third year of my Caribbean vacation.

Q: WHAT IS YOUR GREATEST FEAR?
A: A busted condom at a family reunion. Just kidding, I don't use 'em!

Q: ANY SPECIAL SKILLS:
A: I see dead people!

Q: WHAT IS YOUR GREATEST FAILING?
A: I care too much.
                  
GENERAL COMMENTS.

Not since Jim Jones and David Koresh has there been a more charismatic and devoted leader with a unique vision. You don't want your competitors headhunting me. I'm doing you a huge favour by giving you first crack at this once in a lifetime opportunity. Get in before the post-apocalyptic dawn. In conclusion, I hope you look upon my application with due and careful consideration and do the smart thing - HIRE ME!

          --------

SIGN HERE: Aquarius 







Copyright © Keith Trestrail | Year Posted 2016

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Testing

Testing
That's what we do
Not wearing a shoe


Copyright © Team PoetrySoup | Year Posted 2017

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Love and Triumph (please critique this poem)

How much I love you.
It's easy to describe.
My feelings are as strong as
the movement of a fierce earthquake.
You have captured
my heart with your strong hands and eyes.
My love for you has lingered
for as long as
I can remember, my love's deep.

I know my feelings are true.
Why can't you love like that?

I think my day has come.
I saw you looking
at me, with your big, beautiful brown eyes.
You came towards me and planted a big kiss.
My love has been rewarded.

(I wrote this poem when I was in the 10th grade. I know the poem is patterned after a poem 
called Martial Choreograph that was written by Maya Angelou. Does anybody know what 
type of poem it was?)


Copyright © Brandee Augustus | Year Posted 2008

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Life:Real or taught


He wakes up,
He brushes his teeth,
Just because it is like that for years,
Not for a mouth neat .

Heads embedded in books,
He mugs up the scraps,
Just rot learning,
No practical mind.

He walks towards success,
Through the thorny struggle paths,
Avoiding the smart smooth route,
Cause thats what he is taught.

A dash of failure,
Makes him cry,
Taunts of folks around,
Refuse him to try.

Already in love,
His heart is retained,
But he cant go ahead,
It spoils the society's name.

He runs behind money,
Working as an ass,
Serving as an slave,
Treated as trash.

He lives the life,
The society wants him to,
His dreams dont matter,
But the madcaps do.

Continues the cycle,
Peddled by the guild,
Not his future,
But the society's he'll build.
                  - Kedar K


Copyright © Kedar kate | Year Posted 2018

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Instagram

As I am lying down in bed alone
my spiritless body rolls in bed and 
once again I reach out to my smartphone 
I click an app and see someone blond. 

On busy schedule, I always 
check Instagram on a daily basis. 
And I always see your face every day 
Your posts fantasizes like an oasis.

I wonder if you look at my pictures 
and hesitate on liking my photos
I wonder if you see me in features 
My heart broke down when I changed my bio 

I'm always drowning in a square ocean.
In your Instagram with emotion.


Copyright © Golden Closet | Year Posted 2018

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Why God from when I was in 10th grade

Peace, is the message that they all teach;
Peace is the message they all preach.
We've read it in Bibles, Korans', and Scrolls alike. 
You would think, by this time, earths' people would've gotten it right.
The bombs keep dropping on countries without care.
Done under the banner of fighting terror.
Children are burning and dying in bed; 
they are killed as their evening prayers are leaving their head. 
We have been taught to turn the other cheek; 
however this message seems not to be, take mercy on the meek. 
We've been taught to go without asking why;
 we go proudly, proudly off to die. 

For what? Is all I can ask. 
What will we gain, for safety we have not.
Towers may not be falling, this is true. 
However, lets not forget a man tried to kill with a bomb in his shoe.
Why not just put down our swords; 
and disband are gun wielding hordes?

Why don’t we focus on helping the weak? 
Be a guide for nations that seek. 
Preach our message with care and love. 
However; man seems to prefer preaching with might. 
Whoever kills the most, surly is right. 

I pray to God, Vishnu, Allah and Yahweh too;
oh please teach your followers to stay true. 
To love thy neighbor, and enemy alike. 
To love your creation with all their might. 
Please I pray to you, save this world;
 because all that is left is you.
We have thrown all or our gifs away. 
Gone forever, under a pile of Hate. 

I do not accept that all people are bad. 
I do believe that a better world could be had. 
I pray we will no longer fight evil with might.
People will learn that understanding is right. 
I fear however; our time is neigh. 
Unless Christian, Jew, and Muslim are able to stand side by side.


Copyright © Jeron Adams | Year Posted 2011

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Masquerade

I live a masquerade of lies
(hidden behind puppet eyes)
Someone else pulling the strings,
Not giving me room to spread my wings.

If I could end my false charade
(and be myself in life's parade)
I'd show the world what I could do
and I would not stop 'til I was through.

But people and places tie me down,
and so I'm stuff in this little town,
hoping one day to be set free,
to enjoy life by being ME.


(written in approximately 1984, 10th grade.)


Copyright © petra mallett | Year Posted 2009

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For Her

For the girl that calls me her gump I write you this poem
Because you are my Gump 

The church was where I met you 
Way back in the day 
Not knowing what we’d soon be going through, 
So I have a lot to say, 

 From then on we became friends, 
not knowing first communion would end, 

I remember how much we use to laugh, 
We would have endless conversations, 
You was something I couldn’t pass, 
Cuz I had the patience, 

One year had past since I last seen you 
Not knowing I’d see you again 
7th grade was here 
Not knowin we’d become closer friends 

8th grade came so we became even closer 
We both knew what we wanted 
Cuz we wanted eachother, 

I remember that night 
When I asked you out 
Your answer to my question 
Was something I didn’t doubt 

It wasn’t that long 
Till it came to an end 
So in this poem 
I dare not say what happened, 

As we moved on to highschool 
We hadn’t spoken since our little incident 
9th grade you wanted a second chance 
I said no 

You said not care what happened 
But still I said no. 

Time had passed 
We finally made peace 
It was about time 
Cuz all the tension was released 

10th grade you left 
You were no longer here 
Even though we kept in touch 
Not seeing you again 
Was something I feared 

Senior year you came back 
From parties to pissing Karen off 
And homecoming and prom 
We been through it all 

You of all people warned me about “her” 
I should’ve never had her as my lover 

Look now were in college 
weve been through so much 
don’t worry, theres always gonna be oppurtunities 
for me and you 
because my feelings have always been deep for you 
in other words this whole poem means 
I…<3……you


Copyright © leonardo garcia | Year Posted 2010

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A Love Not Found

You said you'd love me forever
In the 10th grade.
Did you even know what love was?
I could have sworn I loved you too.
So, when we ended, my world fell apart.
But, I saw that the world kept spinning
Regardless of the pain I felt.
I told myself I had to move on but
How can we move on
From a love we'll never find?
I picked myself up and finally
Left you behind.
No. This doesn't make me cruel.
No. I am not sorry.
I've made my decision to make my life
Happier. And I wish you all the happiness
In the world.


Copyright © Kaitlyn Krenik | Year Posted 2016

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Pride or love

A girl whose beauty springs from her heart-,
her image in the album of my mind-
is like a golden waxing moon
exhaling torrent of light into a river,
but she in her real self is my love,
this is us in the planet of joy.
.
.
We shared poems to share joy,
but hers clinged to my heart.
with a promise of an eternal love,
which her words inscribed in my mind,
like the golden tears pouring into the river,
from the meek eyes of the moon.
.
We once sat under the moon,
with the golden light wetting us with joy.
You talked and poured an endless river-
of bliss and tranquility into my heart,
you have cleared the field of my mind-
and planted roses of love.
.
But now that I am for you, oh love-
why have you erased my pride? like the moon
that vanish at the birth of the sun. My mind
used to caress pride with joy-
but now that love is in my heart
I have lost my pride's river.
.
You spat into me like a dirty river-
because I am now enslaved by love
which govern the realm of my heart,
like over the night does the moon,
but I will enjoy the slavery with joy
and erase every pride from my mind.
.
It took me a while to cast away my mind
from pride's river,
although it seem like I was loosing my joy-
but much joy I now will receive from love,
So let me write a poem to you under the moon,
to tell you that love is better than pride in my heart.
.
My heart wont hold pride and love-
so let me accept love for it is a moon in the river
of my mind. oh my dear, be my joy.


Copyright © Ibrahim Clouds | Year Posted 2018

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Failure Teaches Success

His result slip showed  he had failed
Friends celebrated their success
But his parents and some he shamed
Had pinned  on him their hopes and focus

His Dad said "For negligence, it's the price
 Your direliction is  hard to repair
So change your style to do better in life"
And he sat like a mountain in despair

Son forgot laxity and his ugly past
And set himself to make it remember
Reformed for next exam and fixed fast
"Failure teaches success," he would utter

No more sorrow and shame he'd bear
No faltering, no fall  but bright future
Bad experience lessoned him to dare
And avoid loss of face  through failure

He abandonned excess video games
And concentrated in his text books
Made alterations to feed his study aims
And set Success like bait on his hooks

His consistent work bought him success
The year ended with earned love and praise
His negligence was just like an abcess 
 That of failure was just his life's phase


Copyright © Beejadhur Sewumber | Year Posted 2018

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My Jiggling boobs

since maintaining a diet 
of exercise heeding "yo dude" 
(you look like a lady)
the inner fitness maven against 
the temptation of high caloric junk food 

and nightly snack king 
on a flexible fitness routine, 
this LIX aged body electric feels good
these myopic eyes and 

well-calibrated hands measure less dense hood- 
winking bosom, that if I feigned being 
a "bared naked lady" - 
as per this chest lewd

city in reference to "man boobs" 
that seemed to materialize overnight 
now appear to decrease as well 
that unwanted "love handle, 

this chap more inclined 
tubby in a greater mood 
to parade around 
this noncrowded house shirtless 
AND definitely NOT in public, 
BUT no weigh Jose 
would this generic guy go completely nude
cuz being self-consciousness of my physique 
might prompt outsiders 

to consider me a prude
and even during closed bedroom door 
sexual exploits deter me tibia rude
fellow (with average go daddy long legs) 
and my dangling dipstick smallish 
(concluding biology screwed)
a chap worthy tube he more endowed,

though gratitude proffered
to same divine cosmic consciousness
but as the year's pile up appreciation 
of functional faculties alter matts' at tee 'tude
accepting physical characteristics 
more or less static 
hoe ping belive mass elf ya wood.










Copyright © matthew harris | Year Posted 2018

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A Civil Soldiers Tale

"Lie still now, soldier", the Union General said,
As he knelt down beside the boy’s bloody, wounded head.
The dying young lad, no more than fifteen, if a day,
Wore the blight of cannon, and being in its way.

The General swallowed hard, to fight back the pressing tears, 
Before he gazed upon his soldier, now less limbs and gear.
"Is it b-bad?" the soldier asked, in a voice filled with fear. 
"Not at all,” the General lied, knowing the boy had not a prayer.

"You’ll soon be headin’ home," he continued in a whisper.
"Back to your mammy and your pappy, and your favorite dog, Kipper."
The soldier forced a smile and then closed his swollen eyes,
"Why Sir, I think I see them! Looks like ma baked me two pies."

The General shuddered knowing, the lad's folks died years ago,
And the dog named Kipper-- killed in an avalanche of snow.
He only knew these things, since he had taken the boy in,
As this dying soldier's father had been the General’s next of kin.

"This bloodshed has to stop" the General groaned and shook his head,
"Did our boys grow up together just to shoot each other dead?"
"Must be something I can do!" he shouted, rising to his feet,
To be silenced by a bullet as it grazed across his cheek.

The soldier took a breath, his head fell back- eyes open wide.
The General took his sword and laid it by the boy’s side.
"Go now, son," he said, "back to those you love,"
"And give them my regards; in fact give your pa a shove."

Sudden, in the distance, he heard another soldier’s cry,
"The South just surrendered as stated by a Union spy!”
The General stood up slowly and brushed off his dusty knees,
Wiped away a single tear, returning to his company.


Copyright 2006/Shirley Petrandis


Copyright © Shirley Petrandis | Year Posted 2018

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The Rain Story

Every drop out there has a story to tell
And i think they are telling mine
The story of my rage...
As i see through these new eyes
Eyes of  anger,
Eyes of  hate,
Eyes of  revenge,
They drop on me like twinkles in the sky
Taking with them, the anger from me
And soon a breeze,
To blow me out and bring me in
And then i see through these eyes,
All  new and  bright,
Eyes of love,
Eyes of  peace,
Eyes of happiness,
They soon stop their tale,
Because the moral they laid,
Has brought me back,
Oh ! , Come again you little twinkling drops
That fall from the sky
Making me shine bright..


Copyright © Krishna Dinkar | Year Posted 2018

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Think Spring

Now, unlike my usually trenchant literary librettos, i regale the unknown (tum me) reader for savoir faire articulation, elocution, and indomitable tour de force proffered by spectrum of bounteous expropriated hegemony rightful to Mother Nature. 
--------------------------------------------------------
A Place Revisited Within The Mind
(an illusory escape during dead of winter).
 
The shafts of a golden veil, spring sun at noon
break through the heavily coated
overgrowth of leafy foliage
and cause shadows spar upon forest floor.

In a field of wild
a mosaic of crystalline color
from prismatic play of sunshine
upon the silently talking heads
of the swaying stalks.

the scintillating and sparkling rays
in unison with the weft
(and warp across an invisible loom)
weaves a delicious tasting warm breeze,

(which sways the boughs of treetops to and fro,
akin to an unseen baby being cradled)
brings a ladled spate of cool freshness
from the map-cap world (webbed wide)
of a manmade existence.

The grandeur of the fallow spring meadow
a pageant of exquisite dignity
by the graceful movements
from the un-choreographed fall and rise
of the unplowed acres

eyes orbit, ear re: Canal,
and twitching nostrils of sensate beings
to the mellifluous sounds
and sweet smelling aromas
that gently teasingly assault the senses
beguiling the sight,

and lulling ears into a transcendent state.
A buoyant airy tonal plume
rises into the surrounding heights
touches the breadth of cerulean sky
and scythe lent lee gently tumbles back down
like a merry widow waltzing flowery water fall.

In quiet circumspection 
the antics sans plethora of buzzfeed ding
busily buzzing foraging insects,
which contentedly hum and alight nearby

flitting to and fro
oblivious to plaudits encore
harmoniously thriving 
within the living laboratory

of Mother Nature,
sans, Insects or Insecta are by far
count as the largest group of
hexapod invertebrates
within the arthropod phylum,

where simultaneously
underneath the earthen surface
the ground tis abustle with
glorious heart throb

of one micro universe
comprising architects, builders and weavers
engage in all manner
of natural devices for a livelihood.

This brilliant splendor tantamount
to top notch operatic performance,
a sensational visual and audiological feast
hypnotizing one humble human (me)
into an inebriated state of bliss.


Copyright © matthew harris | Year Posted 2018

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Social-Pity

Social Pity
Upon the land of which we hate others
of a mirror of ourselves
we destroy ourselves
humanity is a mirror of this truth
take a look
beyond the facades
can you see
thats where the truth lies
beneath the surface
people fear
the change they cant handle
so dwell among the surface they will
as others dwell deeper
those are the hope for human kind
my hope for them have not died
but day by day it grows a slimmer chance
the distruction of mankind
will be their own ignorance
and fear
may their minds rest
and be of peace
till the choice is of time
where the scale may tip
of opposing favors
for that is the truth of humanity pitifulness may shine
till then
go of peace


Copyright © Raiven Everett | Year Posted 2018

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My Self-Communing Silence


Relate to me with not one word of sorrow,
As from some timeless lay,
Regale me with a numinous poetic theme
That shall take me faraway!
O’ forespeak to me no form of darkness,
That may lie beyond my sight,
Nor utter thus to me of life’s nearing end
To time’s everlasting flight!

Address me not with one fallacious word,
Nor vocals of dispute,
Reply to me only with the purist of truth
That no one can refute!
O’ thus retell to me from the ethereal verse,
As God I then may hear,
For I wish only the sacred prose of Heaven
To fall upon my ear!

Speak to me no despairing words of sorrow,
Nor one single utterance of pain!
I beseech ye!
Sound gently now, upon this burdened soul,
As the drops of summer rain!
O’ or leave me to my self-communing silence,
Lest all madness be unfurled,
For it is difficult to hear the muse of harmony
Through the discordance of this world!


Copyright © Robert Liam McCallum | Year Posted 2018

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Fake Love

You are in my mind all day
I don't even know why
It seems like I'm already in love with you
But you are so unpredictable
We chat, we jam, we laugh
You're just so damn cute
We are both in love
But our sweet conversation ends up
You showed me fake love
You told me you don't want to get hurt
But why are you doing it to me?
You're a liar, a cheater
You showed me fake love
But why is that I'm still into you?
All that fake love your showing
Is so damn unfair



Copyright © Allaika Mae Igot | Year Posted 2018

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There is a God

there is a God
from who cometh 
the air we all
can't live with out 
if not God

who controls nature 
if not God 

how come the world
could be with out seeds
and were cometh the first
seeds of nature if not 
from God

who strike the thunder
and  shower our plants
with natural rain 
if not the nature 
from God 

God is everywhere
in diverse connection
he lives in all I see
he lives in me 
he live in you 
he lives in the world 
and beyond 

who protects 
the world to heed
all we could afford
to live for is not 
human 
if true 
I tell you 
there is a God


Copyright © richard nnoli | Year Posted 2018

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'Tis The Gift To Be Simple

The Valley Of Love And Delight':

An anniversary feting mine birth (date),
a plan we almost didst ditch
nonetheless the general game plan 
soared like an Eagle,
and went off swimmingly (into a dive)
hence we chose Wegman's with doll finned porpoise
minus a sue per stevedore tailored hitch

cuz the China Jade restaurant
near Collegeville Redner's
nearly felt cold as ice dining niche
as if we accidentally 
got highjacked to Siberia
where heat took precedence

verses restaurateur eatery reputable pitch
thus despite praise worthy Yelp reviewers,
whether they be named Poe or Rich
hard, earning their keep whose fingers

hut till lee diploid across 
warp and weft to stitch
together disparate threads
weaving a webbed whirled Magnum Opus
where thoughts analogous

to this aspiring paperback writer exerts,
(whose muscles twitch)
in an attempt for phalanges
tortured as going every which

way with to craft a non ode us paean
from deep within thy bowel
applying me magical diving rod –
essentially a computerized dowel

which makes a dinging sound,
or emitting an odor most fetid and fowl
unintentionally inducing creatures
large and small to howl
at the abominable cursing and swearing
using languages that lack a vowel

sound - clouding ability to communicate
to remain steadfast 
with intent thwarted by (third eye blind)
minor detour of fate

three doors down and celebrate modestly, 
NEVER thought to "FAKE" 
forgo wing NOR deferring
time to be spent with 
a gluten and MSG free 

NON GMO endearing sibling
NO whey iz she dee snide dour twisted sister
hood moost likely become irate
invested in marriage to a loving mate.





Copyright © matthew harris | Year Posted 2018

Details | 10Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

70 Years Past Midnight - Part I


-- January 30, Martyr's Day --

noble and martyred
wrapped in the colours they served
   nation in their legacy
                   ***


August 14, 1947

Jawaharlal Nehru stood before The Parliament - Words were spoken, recounted this century as clear as then.

“Long years ago, we made a tryst with destiny; and now the time comes when we shall redeem our pledge, not wholly or in full measure, but very substantially. 
At the stroke of the midnight hour, when the world sleeps, India will awake to life and freedom.

A moment comes, which comes but rarely in history, when we step out from the old to the new -- when an age ends, and when the soul of a nation, long suppressed, finds utterance. It is fitting that at this solemn moment we take the pledge of dedication to the service of India, her people, and to the still larger cause of humanity.

The turning-point is past, and history begins anew for us, the history which we shall live and act and others will write about.”


August 15, 2017 

Policemen are positioned at the borders of states. 
Stars are thanked at the break of dawn - the night passed without their lives.

Embassies light up with stories of the past - They play out on facades for the holidayer in traffic. 

Tiny hands wave paper flags at the rural side of the city. In the August heat, parades are viewed from terraces barefoot.
Students wear pins in a march. The sole aim ~ Giving back more than we get.

A day cannot sleep without celebration of culture:


   saffron, white and green
 twenty nine states on stage -
    nation in their eyes



.. continuation posted


Copyright © Sneha RV The Literature Lover | Year Posted 2018

Details | 10Th Grade Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Total Time I Spent In Dental Chair Post Adolescence To Present Age second appointment

some agents provocateur didst maim
self-acceptance, and (found thyself 
as a boyish twenty something
weathering onset of gum recession, 
maxillofacial surgery, impressions, 
xrays galore, scaling) 

necessitated (score years later) urgent intervention 
i.e. treatment plan under auspices 
re storied name
University of Pennsylvania 
Dental School to mitigate malady 

entailed every last tooth plucked with ease 
since no other recourse could tame
accompanying jaw bone loss, 
which destabilized rootless choppers,
and despite the state of the mind turning to pulp 
(this haint no “fiction, nor FAKE)

thus I acknowledge sincere gratitude thru poetic aire
for the entire fleet of dental students, 
and staff that didst care,
who assuaged distress, exceeding the best expertise flair

which eventually warranted being fitted for dentures here
bringing an exemplary end result 
encompassing yours truly writing in his lair
after about a dozen years encompassing 

so many wing (bitten) angels far and near
across webbed wide world to help repair
chronic distress minimized now, cuz there
prevailed the most blessed delight 
when Medicare picked up the tab
now smile more willingly with artificial dental wear.







Copyright © matthew harris | Year Posted 2018