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Best Bio Poems

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Poems are below...


New Bio Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Bio poems are below this new poems list.

born poet by Lawrence , ikoketseng
Dear Brothers and Sisters by Mendoza, Jacqueline R.
The GREATEST Still by Watkins , Stewart
Uniquely Me Beauty by Parker, LeTasha
PHOTOGRAPH by chizoba vincent, john
Little Girl With A Big Heart by Centeno, Anna
HIGH TIDE by Anderson, Shelza
LUCKY LOVE by Anderson, Shelza
GOOD POETRY by Anderson, Shelza
DUPE LIES by Anderson, Shelza

View all new Bio Poems

The Best Bio Poems

 
Details | Bio Poem | Create an image from this poem.

About Me

My life is like that of a commonplace horse
that stays where they’ve put her all day;
she lives very much like the others, of course,
accepting her fate, eating hay!

At times she is plowing ( for work is her lot);
at other times, giving a ride
to those who reward her with a smile. . . or not!
But seemingly, she’s satisfied.

For like many others, who graze in the field,
She’s needed and loved; she gets by.
Though life is not bad, to routine she must yield,
but her mind - which can’t rest - wants to fly!

You see, I’ve a soul not that of this mare.
I look through the fence and I see
pastures much greener, and far away there
are places much sweeter for me. . . 

I see myself frolicking in quietude
where the world has a rainbow hue.
With fanciful musings my mind is imbued
and the roses I’m sniffing are blue!

I’m gentle, romantic, yet wild and carefree,
and my coat is a glistening white.
Liltingly, I move like poetry.
And my essence is pure delight.

Yes, over that fence, I so want to go -
where creative thought is born;
where lyrical words with euphony flow,
for I am a unicorn!


For Greg Barden's 'The Poet's Own' Poetry Contest








Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2010

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MY EYES

My eyes,
you traced the beauty of nature.
The starry sky and inky ocean,
smile of winter in the heavenly garden,
dancing of waterfall on the lap of hill
and kissing of butterfly with lips of lily.
You painted the alluring nature
in the canvas of my memory.
It refreshes my soul
and revives my heart.
My eyes,
you are lovely, you are smart.

My eyes,
You traced my childhood
with your experienced hand.
Sacrifice of my mother
and hardship of my dad.
Depth of their love
and length of their sorrow,
thickness of their sympathy
and width of their care.
My eyes,
You are cute, you are fair.

My eyes,
you age out books stepping with time.
My career holds what I need.
You created hopes
and enhanced expectations.
You make my avenue successful and vivid.
My dreams slept on rose petal bed.
I know, a good book is equal to 100 friends,
but a good friend is a complete library.
My eyes,
you are my friend, you are my diary.

My eyes,
you traced a queen
in a marriage party.
Now, she is my darling
she is my sweety.
I never forget that wonderful  night.
When you traced her sensation
and her jumping heart,
her tender lips
and her undressed beauty.
I was clean bold
with extreme delight.
My eyes,
you are spicy, you are naughty.

My eyes,
you are very clever.
You can speak more than tongue.
I know, you can't be wrong.
My anger is apple red,
my love is pearl white
and my pleasure is crystal bright.
When I am confused
you fly kingfisher flight.
My eyes,
you are my teacher, you are my guide.
--------------+++++++++++++-------------------


Copyright © Manmath Dalei | Year Posted 2016



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The Late Blooming Iris

Lately I have paused, pondering death
But I'm not fit for it's journey yet.

It's not that I loathe meeting death's kind
It will be, for me, an experience of a lifetime.

I've had one stupendous, lovely, awesome gift
A second chance at life I could not resist.

So tell me this... who's thinking of dying?
I am the rainbow. Rain falls, next, I'm smiling.


Lately I have paused, pondering death
But it's out of my hands, my stem's length and breath.

All I have been, isn't all that I am
I've taken a stand to let The Source guide my hands.

I can claim to be a calico, carved by nine lives
Again, and again, I rise with clearer eyes.

I'd assume any form my Maker shapes me to use
Would I be excused, if in your haven I refuse?

I am a flower, even in winter
Even in winter, I am a flower.

*


Copyright © Iris Elizabeth Sankey-Lewis | Year Posted 2016

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The Unknown

-"x+2 = 4"-

Enigmas of the soul
Do you know how it feels?

Never tasted before
Invisible Sun


PD


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014

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A Poem of Ruth

The tears well up, and scarce could she not moan
When father, brother, husband, all have died.
She now has no possessions, neither home,
But travels to a distant, unknown land:
Once so secure, yet now compelled to roam;
Once rich in love, she treads through foreign sands.
Her weary feet move forward but by faith;
For all left to her name is mere belief:
Mind, heart so far away she seems a wraith-
Love, happiness- all taken by a thief.

When, sometime since, her heart had broke in two,
The path of life, once single, parted way;
Forsake she could, but this she would not do-
All else was gone- with mother she would stay:
"Intreat me not to leave thee," was her plea,
"For whither thou wilt go, there will I; pray
Forbid me not to follow after thee,
For where thou lodgest I would also stay:
"Thy people shall be mine, thy God my God;
And where thou liest, I will gladly lie
Beside thee, overhead the selfsame sod;
That even then thou mightest be closeby.

"And so they twain walk on, hand clasped in hand;
Both hold the only thing they yet possess:
The younger but a stranger in the land,
An enemy, a widow in distress.

She rose before the sun to find a place
Where she might gather barley ears and wheat;
A field where she might find some needed grace
To gather for their winter store of meat:
Then Boaz comes from Bethlehem, and see,
He tarries with the reapers of the wheat:
He comes to Ruth and says, "Hear'st not thou me?
Remain until the harvest is complete:
"Go not from hence, but in my fields abide,
And let thine eyes be on the field they reap;
Behold, these maidens thou may'st work beside,
And near the reapers thou may'st ever keep."
Then to her face she fell, and wond'ringly
Asked why to her, a stranger, was so kind;
And he replied that she unfailingly
Had cleaved unto her mother with one mind,
And left her father, mother, and the soil
Of her nativity, and kissed the dust
Of some strange land wherein she meant to toil;
Forsaking gods of Moab God to trust:
"The Lord," said he, "reward thee for thy deeds,
 And recompense thy labour and thy love:
The God of Israel answer all thy needs,
And make his wings a shelter from above."
 Then said the maid, "My lord, please let me find
Some grace and favour in thy blessed sight,
For that thou hast been friendly, spoken kind,
And I am but a stranger in the night."
Then Boaz said, "At mealtime here abide;
Rest in the shade, come, sit with us and dine:
So down she sat, a reaper on each side;
She ate her wheat and dipped her bread in wine.
Then Ruth arose, and to her work she leaves:
The master thus commands his servant men,
"Let this young maid glean e'en among the sheaves;
Rebuke her not, for she shall come again;
And let some handfuls fall onto the ground,
There let them lie for my sake and for hers
That she may glean and plenty may be found;
For reasons she has need of it are pure."
And as she worked, Ruth knew not what a sight
Of beauty and of diligence she made,
As in the golden field in sunset's light
She bowed her head and knelt as if she prayed.

It came to pass that in his fields she stayed
Until the end of barley harvest came,
When mother told the lovely little maid
To seek for his provision and his name.
She washed and dripped an oil filled with sweet
Perfumes of wild roses on her face:
She had not much; her beauty was complete
With but her finest clothes to seek his grace.
Her braided hair shone brighter than the gem
That never graced her soft and shapely form;
Her eyes, they sparkled brighter than the hem
Of gold and pearls that she had never worn:
Thus Ruth went down unto the threshing floor
Where Boaz winnowed barley till the night,
And peeked at him so shyly 'round the door;
She never let him leave her searching sight.
His workday done, the master ate and drank;
With happiness his heart was full when fed:
Then by a heap of wheat he went and sank
Into the furry robes that made his bed;
And Ruth, a while watching till he sleep
Kept vigil from a stone used as a seat,
Till when his eyes had closed and sleep was deep
She lifted up the cover from his feet
And softly laid her down and dreamed of brides
Until the watchman struck a dozen beats,
And being startled, Boaz woke and spied
A woman sleeping at his very feet:
"Who art thou?" queried he in sleepy voice;
"Thine handmaid, Ruth," was her unsure reply;
Then blessed he her for wise and kindly choice,
For passing poor and rich young fellows by.
"And now, my daughter, gladly shall I do
According to thy wishes, for all here
Consider thee as virtuous and true;
Howbeit, there is one to thee more near,
A kinsman who must duly have his say:
If he decline, then rest assured I will
Perform the part of kinsman." So she lay
Down at his feet, and both were quiet, still.

In grey of early morning she arose,
Before a face could be discernéd there;
To keep from what some people might suppose
And who might stand along the road to stare:
Then Boaz said, "Bring here the vail thou hast
Upon thy head and hold it in thy hand:
Six times the barley measure filled and passed
From heap to vail as much as she could stand.
Then Boaz went up to the city gate
To find the nearer kinsman, whom he sought,
To see if he would purchase the estate
Of Ruth, and she herself, but he could not;
So Boaz purchased all the widows' land;
The houses, barns, and fields, though overgrown;
And bought what pleased him most, Ruth's comely hand
To cherish and to make his very own:
Then Boaz went to find the handmaid, Ruth
And lift her from a servant to a wife;
To love her in all tenderness and truth
In every day God blessed them both with life.



[By Isaiah Zerbst. Published 9/7/14. Parts of poem have been removed due to soup's limitations.]






Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2014

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JAN ALLISON

I am from Great Britain – it’s not a rumour I always try to write with a sense of humour In 1996 we moved to live in the Isle of Man I can say with hand on heart that I’m Jan NOT Stan Work with youngsters who have ‘special needs’ Very rewarding occupation - but challenging indeed! I am short in stature – guess I have low ‘elf esteem’ Tall greying men I adore – I love to see them in my dream I love to eat plain chocolate – don’t need to watch my weight I’m really quite petite – my hubby thinks I’m great Met my husband Bob at Radio Lollipop Both were volunteers – he loved my low cut top! Love to listen to music and go to hear a live band Best gig ever was ‘Queen’ - the best band in the land I have a wonderful son he is my pride and joy He’s at university now – no longer my little boy Started to write poetry when my husband got cancer To get my thoughts on paper to me it was the answer My friend Jenny Brewer introduced me to poetry soup Took me a month to join but I’m so glad I joined this group Wrote thirty poems with Darren as Jadazzle United When Daz returns to good health I will be so delighted I am happy when with friends but like my solitude too Try to do my best in everything I do The past 14 months have been so challenging for me With writing I can escape and set my emotions free Now my dad has passed and mum is in a care home I am now ‘free’ and my self-confidence has grown 12th April 2015 Contest: Bio of a Poet Tammy Reams ~awarded 1st place~


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015

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Self

I am a lady
In a white dress
My desire only to be softly caressed
So I take my paint brush, and delinquently paint
My face that pleads let love become quaint
I confess  to my brushes
Let a man stroke me 
With eloquence and grace
As he gazes into the love on my face
La fenêtre you see that I paint so clear
You have to climb in through it
To hold me so dear
Can you not see into my soft sad lonely eyes?
I desire myself
Wrapped inside of you
On canvas
I shall paint forever
Myself
That never existed


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015

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Carrie R

Brunette, of hair, my mother's face
I'm known to be a country girl
I like to wear blue denim jeans, 
but love to wear a dress of lace
I've made mistakes, to my disgrace
I'm small in size......my eyes are blue
I'm not a prize, have no excuse
I'm the neighbor who will bring you soup
Good music fills my eyes with tears
Love  hula hoops. Loops in my ears
Can toss a ball, and whoop it up
I can ride a horse, and wear the boots
Don't wear a crown, I'm not a queen
But I am keen on my clean house


I'll lend an ear, I am a friend
My favorite food might be ice cream
A double scoop, I beg you please?
I'll bathe the dog, I give good hugs
I'll rub your back when you are ill
I'll judge you not...won't hold a grudge
A movie fan, read quite a lot
I thrive on love, I'll love you too
Can fix most things with Elmer's glue
Can stretch a dime, make old things new
I love antiques and have a few

My family ties are iron strong
And stronger as the days grow long
I hope to light my little world
With poetry, some bad, some good
I've paid my dues.....with ups and downs
A small town  girl, who gets around
I try to keep an open mind
I hope to God,  that I've been kind
And hope to find a friend in you

So that's scoop, ..... a double dip
I'll  say adieu' ....,  and finish it !

_________________________________
Submitted For "A Poet's Bio" 
Contest sponsored by Tammy Reams 


Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2015

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Untying of a Love Knot

When I used to dream
I used to dream about him
Fantasizing about how it happened and how it could have been
Demons, chasing Nightmares, Happiness on Poles
Tied into a loveknot and dangled in front of me
No matter how I ran, how far, how fast
It seemed to sweetly Escape
Just when he was in my grasp

I tried it all
New haircuts
New styles
New boys
Sexy sexy skirts
With  new pairs of heels
Filling holes with things that
Really don’t mean anything 
Except to say

I’m doing just fine without you

Days go by, 
Months slip away
Years appear on doorsteps like unwanted infantile  
Infatuations
I beat my self up for loving

the way
He moved
Spoke, touched
Laughed, ached, cried
He could
Heal the burns on my fiery soul
He could handle
Dangerous curves
On roadways unknown

My first love

Today I no longer linger
On whispers in photographs
Or chain ball letters
I don’t chase after  white sports cars
Or sink when I hear his name
I see him sometimes and I feel his stare

Sting me on the places it hits
I’m with my own
And his with his other
But just to let him know
It’s okay
I smile
and let go

Unraveling
This cord
of discord

Love is forever
No matter the occasion
I forgive, i forget
and let him live
Without me


I appreciate
His gift, wrapped with 
detachment
For the benefit, of each other

He showed me with open eyes
That I did not need a man

                                       For me
                                        To love
                                           Me
He gave 
A bittersweet
Indescribable


Emotion. The Gift
Of Poetry.



Thank you…




Copyright © Bella Cardenas | Year Posted 2007

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MY ODYSSEY



 
 
Here, I am
Retired
Happy
Sitting on the relaxing throne of my age
Reminiscing what I went through in life
For
A mere spectator I have now become
Observing in silence the works of men
Having no worries of a
Carrier advancement
Of acceptance
Of recognition!
 
Free at last!
Liberated I feel from all of this soul disturbing situations that
Preoccupy humans, all life long, in order for them to survive.
 
When young
Things were different as I wanted to change things
I roamed the world, visiting all continents
Myriad of dreams I had each demanding to be realized,
I did my best,
Despite life’s hardships-- starting with the loss of both of my
Parents when I was in my early teens
Then poverty came, after that orphanage for three years
Struggle for survival intensified- working and studying
Being alone at the age of fifteen is not a laughing matter
Served in the army, became a track-and-field athlete, then Immigrated to Canada.

Knowing no one over there, speaking little English and having no money
Life became a living hell for some time
But
Slowly things turned around, for Canada is a great country
Gave me chances to work and the opportunity to study
I started working the day, going to university in the evening
Learned English, German and French
Did my undergraduate and completed my post-graduate studies
Started teaching, had my own philosophical TV and Radio program in
Three languages at a community station, became an author, got married and had children. 

Eighteen years later I found myself back to Greece
Directed different schools and Colleges and in collaboration with professors from Athens university, helped to organize international congresses on philosophy, religion, politics, education and peace.  
Afterwards was involved in politics out of moral obligation
Run six times for the Greek and the European parliament with no success 
Did humanitarian work: Consoling people, visiting hospitals, mental institutions and prisons-high security ones included.    
 
Life obliged me to meet people of all walks of life:
Poor men and women that had nothing at all
Rich and the very rich that had everything
The illiterate that could not read or write as well as
Famous professors and writers
Politicians--Ministers, Prime Ministers and Presidents
Religious men of many denominations-- Bishops, Archbishops, Patriarchs 
But also many criminals: Thieves, rapists, murderers, including some who
Committed--fratricide, matricide and patricide.
 
I had a harsh and at times torturous life but never a boring one
Was born in an occupied country of the second WW and lived
The first five years while a civil war was going on.
 
If one would ask me to live my life again my reply would be a
Thunderous NO! I could not take it anymore, unless
It was to live it again for a higher purpose such as to help achieve world peace.
 
If one asks me what beautifies life, without hesitation I would say- LOVE and LEARNING
If one makes inquiries from where I drew the strength to overcome all hardships,
I would say my unshakable belief in God who adopted me after the death of my parents
If one wishes to know, what is the most difficult thing in life my reply will be:
“To accept life”
Now, in the degree we do not accept life we suffer!
 
If one insists on finding out what is important for any person in life
The answer for me is “To know himself, to be truthful to himself and to
Do the best he can with the abilities our Lord has provided him with.
That means it is better to be a fine butcher than a bad doctor!
Finally
One should never fear death for the simple reason: None is exempted!
Death for me is a celestial pillow upon which the soul rests for a while
Dreaming of the life to come!
Life resembles the sea which either turbulent or calm has the same depth!
 
Accept life and in time one may learn how to face death with equanimity!
I am at that point now, with no regrets, other than I could learn more and
Do more in my life.
I thank God for each day of my life as I thank all those who directly or
Indirectly have helped me to live this adventure, including all of you who
Are reading this poem now!
God bless everyone!
 
 
 
© Demetrios Trifiatis
      05 August 2017
 
*This is my 1700th poem for that reason I wished to make it more personal and much longer than my Monoku! Sorry!
 


Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis | Year Posted 2017

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read this please

They hate you because your you
They make up lies and call it true
They're fake behind your back
Hoping someday that you'll crack.

They hate you because your real.
no matter what they say you always heal
They're surprised to see you rise,
That you're not affected by all these lies


They hate you because you smile at them
It shows them that your a real gem
You are always true and do your best :)
Sometimes these haters just cant test

They hate you for no reason
Despite it all, you smile
whatever the reason
At the end of the day
All i'm gonna say
All i plan to be 
IS ME


-Sanderline Fleury :)


Copyright © Sanderline Fleury | Year Posted 2013

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The Letter

"Dear Time"
Thank you for being patient, 
Thank you for understanding I'm human, after all.
Forgive me for all the mischievous prank calls. 
Much of what I said and done, was out of fun.
Now, I sit on this rocking chair getting old.
Reminiscing over the beauty and honor it has been 
   Passing this land we call "EARTH."
Reminiscing over the beauty and honor, ----- REMINISCING!
Sorry, if I repeat the same beat a thousand times....
You see, I sit here every day thinking this world is mine....
Trying to remember, who I AM.
Every moment there has ever been or ever will be, 
Is taking a toll on every single feeling and memory.
Time, Yes------------------ TIME!
The wrinkles on my face will never describe 
how many birthdays I celebrate.
The wrinkles on my face 
Tell stories reminding my readers,
 Where I've been and come from
How consistent, and fortunate I've been, 
Babbling about my past, present, and future; 
The only advantage of the word "TIME."
-- It helps fade hurting moments away--
You see, time is the essence of memories.
 
Dear Time,
"Growing from young to old, was not as easy as it sounds."
Please be patient with_____ Wait! I said that already....
Thank you for understanding what I’m going through.
Please listen, be patient with what's burning deep down inside.
It's almost dinner time -- once again, I mention the word "TIME!"
I'm not hungry, food just isn't the same when fed through a straw.
Besides, have you seen the garments ''they'' make me wear?
Never thought I'd live to see myself in old-fashioned nightgowns
Time keeps adding silver to what used to be pretty brownish red hair
Time what have you done to me?
Please excuse if I can't work a remote or function the TV properly.
What has happened to simple technology, 
   When everything came with "ON and OFF" buttons.
Time understand what I go through, my legs never felt this tired 
I can't seem to keep myself on the same path, 
I lose track of time when navigating my toes

Dear Time, 
Take my hand, lead the way and understand I can't see more
Time,  allow the joy to take its time when my end is near.
Thank you, Time, for all the loving moments we shared
Thank you, Time and please be kind and end my life with love.
End my life with love-----
End my life with love-----
Wait..... I said that already....

Dear Time, 
Thanks for having patience.

Sincerely Yours 
The Little Old Lady Across the Street

by: PD


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

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My Waltz With Life


I was born, Bronx, New York, in the year 'Thirty-Nine,
   the first child with a brother who followed in time.
Ten years later, moved North, Hudson Valley, same State
   where I've settled, lived on with my loved ones to date.

But when young, in my school, two fine talents emerged,
   and my teachers took time to encourage my urge.
I enjoyed my young years while I painted and penned;
   lots of canvas and paper used up without end.

At nineteen, I then married the love of my life
   and enjoyed my new path of becoming a wife
to my US Marine, very handsome and true;
   Paris Island, our home for a year, almost two.

By the age twenty-five, I was mother of three;
   a fine son, two sweet girls, a complete family.
We worked hard every day and our life was so good.
   I wrote poems and painted whenever I could.

Later, painting with oils was the pastime for me
   and I studied six years at an art gallery.
Varied art shows, displays, and a job filled my time.
   Soon I sold many pieces, and life was sublime.

Yet, the years went by fast and at age thirty-nine,
   I enrolled in a college to study part-time.
Six years later, I earned my prized English degree—
   a BA—and a Minor in Business for me.

Then my pictures with words replaced those done thru art,
   and I soon published poems of life and of heart.
Yet along in this time of my great writing spree
  I worked hard every day as our business VP.

For a full twenty years, we worked hard faithfully
   after hubby retired as the Chief of FD,
selling our fire equipment, all types, big and small
   to FDs, factories, district schools, and the malls.

Our dear children all married with families too
   are involved happily in whatever they do.
Happy grandma of five—late twenties to eighteen,
   and one granddaughter married two thousand thirteen.

We retired, sold our business thirteen years ago,
   still so busy with life, with its ebb and its flow.
We are proud and so blessed and thank God up above
   for our days and our life of good times filled with love.


Sandra M. Haight  

~1st Place~
Premiere Contest: Where Are You From
Sponsor: Joseph Soper
Judged: 08/01/2017

~2nd Place~
Contest: Bio of a Poet
Sponsor: Tammy Reams
Judged: 04/18/2015

Form: Anapestic Tetrameter (12 syllables, 4 feet per line)




Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2015

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YESTERDAY I CRIED

Why, Momma, why?
Was I not deserving 
of you?
Was I not good?  
Was I too frail?
Did you send me away
Because your own life 
derailed?

Why, Momma, why
Do I still secretly wail?
Asking myself what did I do so 
wrong? How did I fail?

What you called rebelliousness
Was the only way I knew how 
to stay strong sometimes, I'd 
stay up all night looking after you
Got banged and bruised so that 
he wouldn't hurt you

No one else did that
Isn't it true?
Did you ever think about my wounds
That was the only way I knew to
protect you

Instead of helping me 
You banished me through lies,
Stripped me from my home,
My siblings, my life

Withheld your love
Because I tried to take my own life
But did you ever stop and think that
Perhaps something in me wasn't right?

Why, momma, why?
Does your absence whisper in me
A forever sorrowful lullaby and
Although, I miss you I love you more 
each day that goes by

I forgive you wholeheartedly
Despite that yesterday, I cried
I wouldn't hesitate to wipe
The tears from your eyes if they 
ever again were to meet with mine


Copyright © Madelin Barton | Year Posted 2014

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Broken English

I love my broken English

Am in love with my broken English

Am honored to have two other languages

The ability to think from language to language is one that many don't experience 
The ability to bring vibes from one language to another is one, that many envy

Sometimes it's like a train, English flows easily before it gets to a halt
Sometimes it's a bus with many stops, some harsh, some dash, some flash
And some mistakenly whether car or train, crash 
Some like aeroplane, are up there in the air
Building their own castles
Creating unfamiliar words

Whether writing from kikuyu to English 
Or kikuyu to Swahili and then to English 
Or just writing from the little dash of English that I learnt from my English classes,
With poetry,I can still escape 
Whether in the veiled grammatical errors
        Or just like a volatile chameleon


Copyright © njeri hunjeri | Year Posted 2015

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The Meaning Of Life

Through life...I've learned the meaning of love. Through love...I've felt the feeling of heartbreak. Through heartbreak...I've felt the feeling of pain. Through pain...I've learned the meaning of acceptance. Through acceptance...I've learned the meaning of forgiveness. Through forgiveness...I've learned the meaning of faith. Through faith...I've learned the meaning of life. We are all important in life... We all have a purpose in life... Now all we have to do is... Make every purpose count... ~Life~ Is a learning experience ~Life~ Is a state of existence that belongs to the soul ~Life~ Is the true meaning of meaning ~Life~ Is the state of something significant,and of great importance ~Life~ Is what is intended to be or is ~Life~ Has a beginning,a purpose, and an end...
Danny Boy:4-1-13 :o)


Copyright © Dan Kearley | Year Posted 2013

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Who Am I

Daughter of Mary and Louis (Named after my late grandmother ) My name is Charmaine a name originated from latin Charmaine means -a song Eldest of two siblings Wife and Mother Born and raised in the sun-kissed land of Malta (an island in the Mediterranean sea which is politically westernized yet geographically in the southern part of the European continent) Baptised as a roman catholic (with believes rooted in love and forgiveness) Friends describe my personality as amicable and funny (I love to laugh at myself to make others happy ) Till I get to know a person I might keep distant , even act timid and shy . Friends describe me as humble , yet I can be extremely stubborn. It is said that I'm affable, trustworthy, and good willed Honest, hardworking, warm and kind . I describe myself as a child trapped in a woman's mind A little girl who is extremely sensitive many a time. I trust only with my eyes wide open If ever deceived I erupt in a volcanic catastrophe which fades in a short time. I am a day dreamer, a night dreamer My shadow is lost in the moon's eclipse I float on cloud nine occasionally without a will to return (My X-mathematics teacher would obviously confirm this) I am a hopeless romantic ( Cold Unromantics may find me challenging or boring ). I am scared of rejection, and abhore prejudice . I hate hypocracy, medriocracy, and burocracy. I shed my blood for democracy. I believe in freedom of speech until that speech won't provoke the freedom of rights. I am against fundamentalizm, extremism and anything that suffocates 'the voice' . I condemn divisions between rich and poor. I love life, and all that is beautiful. I love birds, animals and flowers I love mountains, rivers,ocean , and all mother nature I love exploring the world , and all that is adventurous . . I am a loyal follower of Maldena Gandhi , Mother Theresa, and Martin Luther king. I love cooking, art , music, and words. I love reading a good book, watching a great movie (Preferably with tishoos in one hand, and chocolate in the other ). I love sailing away from concrete worlds, far from buzzling sounds of nightlife. I love all seasons, Spring with fresia's perfume, Summer with late walks Autumn with cinnamon spices, Winter with Christmas-lights and snow. (Ah yes,How I love Christmas ). I love all simple things , like a cup of English tea I love making my house a home. Be surrounded with those that I care for such as God , friends, family, or be in my own silence reading sweet poetry. Charmaine Chircop - nee: Brincat Born : 1st of May 1977 Star-Sign : Taurus Favourite Colour: Blue Favourite flower : Daisy Margarita Favourite author: God This is a revised repost, inspired to repost it by a running contest of Catie Lyndsey, and the wonderful bios I've read here, thanks. Not for the contest


Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2016

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I Am Not Afraid

      On the day the Lord calls me home I will not be 
afraid as I know He loves us one and all and to this
earth we are only on loan
      We have spent all our lives here with family and 
friends and so we leave this earth to go home to be 
with our Lord and our family and friends who have
gone home to Heaven before us
       And so our lives go full circle as the Lord sent us 
down from Heaven to accomplish the things He wants 
us to do here on earth and as we complete this we will 
be called back home to heaven to live forevermore
       I am not afraid as I patiently wait for my call to 
enter the Kingdom Of Heaven where I will wait for my 
family and friends to come home and be with our Lord
forevermore.


Poems Of Inspiration (OLD) Contest 
Sponsor: P.D.
7th Place Winner



Copyright © Carol Sunshine Brown | Year Posted 2010

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I Am

I am...
A seed that was blown from 
A wayward wind
Sewn too soon
With fragile roots
Clinging
To a rocky soil
That fell between
The cracks
In a place covered
In ocean brine
Which...Somehow
Managed to exist
Where the sun
Could not shine
Except…
On those rare days
When it would burn
Through that veil 
Of grey fog
Turning 
The whole world blue
Blue skies...
Where clouds roamed 
Aimlessly...
Over a quiet glassy surface
That would 
When pushed...
By a raging wind
Lash out 
In frustration
Shattering itself
On those jagged rocks
As it tried 
Time 
And time again
To move beyond that
Rocky shore
Where... 
That rose
Tried in vain
To bloom.

Author:  Elaine Cecelia George of Canada

Written:  March 7th, 2015




Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2015

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Mama Swore It'd Be Alright

 I grew up shooting pool and dancing on the bar
 Mama said with enough buise anyone could be a star
 Daddy was in the back room chasin' skirts
 Mama was in the parking lot dancin' with Mary Jane just to mask the hurt

 I've spent my life walkin' around in a cloudy haze
 I'm taunted by the memory of my early days

 Daddy spent alot of time drivng an eighteen wheeler
 Each night Mama brought home a new "sexual healer"
 I didn't usually get a chance to catch his name
 But it almost always ended the same

 I heard her scream as glass would break
 My heart would stop with each breath I was scared to take
 Sirens and lights flooded our streets as I approached another long night
 As I dried her tears and cleaned her blood Mama swore it'd be alright
 She forgot to mention that it'd happen again
 
 Both my brothers had thier own bed in the federal pen
 Cancer took Granny's last breath right about then
 My sisters and I weren't strangers to rape
 As we grew older we each seeked our o0wn escape

 I guess I chose the hardest road
 Somehow I thought drugs and men could ease my burdened load
 While hiding from myself I lived a life of crime
 I earned a reputation and did my time

 I heard her scream as glass would break
 My heart would stop with each breath I was scared to take
 Sirens and lights flooded our streets as I approached another long night
 As I dried her tears and cleaned her blood Mama swore it'd be alright
 She forgot to mention that it'd happen again


Copyright © Sara Beaderstadt | Year Posted 2011

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Limerick for Sensitive community - a pd contest

I once knew a poet named Andrea.

Assaulted by someone’s hysteria,

she wouldn’t engage,

but feeling some rage,

she fought all night long with insomnia.


(It's kinda true!!!)


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

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The Richard Enigma

I'm rather hard to figure out
Not many really get what I'm about
I'd rather sit quietly than shout
I keep it real I'm not prone to pout
You might think me passive
Still I will act 
when others are subdued by doubt

Somewhat serious
Yet prone to smile
Not ecstatic I have my own style
If you need comfort I'll stay with you a while
Don't expect much talking 
I'm a listener on the emoticom dial

As a poet
I know the power of the word
In the end I like to hear and be heard
Like you I too have been burned
Within adversity there were things I learned

I am a dancer
Stepping out on pages
Quiet paper oragami cages
Traveling on thoughts
Floating through all my stages

Fast forward rewinding 
Pausing at my distance
Like the Borg victims there is no resistance
I breathe my thoughts with a certain persistence

If you look at me 
I might reflect you
Searching for answers
Seeing beyond dark corridors 
To places bright blue
Perhaps you as well 
Like me
are an enigma too!

Written April 8th.


Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015

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I Was Me

First I was me,
Selfish as can be,
Wanting everything from A to Z
And wanting it all for me.

Then I became we,
A part of an us.
I learned to share, give and take
I learned how to trust.

Next I was you,
Believe me its true.
I would rather give than receive,
It was you I wanted to please.

Now I am them,
A family man.
Giving my children,
All that I can.

If you look real close,
It is easy to see,
I am older and wiser,
And no longer a me.


Copyright © Joe Flach | Year Posted 2010

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ONCE UPON A TIME

 






I was born on the closing days of
The second World War  
In a small village of north-west of Greece
Up on the mountains.

The country was devastated
After four years of occupation by
The Nazis and Fascists and
Then
A civil war followed that lasted for
Another four years
Hundreds of thousand souls were lost,
Among them members of my family
The country was left in ruins
The hatred reigned as brother was 
Killing brother
 
We were poor
Scarcely had anything to eat
Having lost my father I had
No shoes
No proper clothes
No proper home
Living in primitive conditions with
No electricity
No radio
No cars
No roads
But
Lived close to nature that nourished me
With its wild fruits and roots
That I was finding climbing up the mountains
Or descending down onto the valley
Where I was running after butterflies and birds

My bear feet were kissing the ground
Winter and summer
Feeling the cold and the heat to the point as
To become one with the soil.
 
The animals were my friends, my companions:
Goats, sheep, pigs, cows, dogs, cats
But I had to be aware of the venomous snakes,
The cunning foxes the dangerous wolves.
 
The nights I was looking up to the clear sky
Admiring the brightness of the stars
So close to God for the first time myself I found
As I was caressing with my eyes the galaxy
That crossed the horizon from mountaintop to mountaintop.
The nights when there was a full moon I could see
As far as the eye could reach and I was happy although
My rebellious stomach could not let me sleep in peace.
 
Left the village just before my twelve birthday went
To Athens, the capital and later on to Canada where
I lived, worked,  studied and taught.
Stayed there for twenty years,
Have traveled around the world:
Europe, Asia, America, Oceania
Then back to Greece where I live 
Writing and taking care of my roof garden.

Now, retired at seventy-two, look at the world as it is
Compare it with the world of my childhood and
Have the impression that have lived for centuries
Since the world at present,  as far as technology is concerned,
Is light of years ahead of the world of my village at that time
But at the same time the world today seems to have lost
Its innocence, part of its humanity and certainly its
Contact with nature and worst of all for most of us with
Its inner divine self!






© Demetrios Trifiatis
       26 March 2017



* This is my 1500th poem. I would like to thank all of you who have
supported me with your comments, ideas and love for without you
it would have been impossible to keep writing for five years here at 
the soup. Of course always are some who try to harm someone and 
not to help but even these few people I thank! 

May the Good Lord keep all of you healthy, inspired and happy!
THANK YOU!

Demetrios 
 


Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis | Year Posted 2017

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Let my Wish be Granted


In you alone my mind is rest
For from only you I seek comfort
In my back and front
You're the ultimate strength
And within my voicing
And all my day's doing
I glorify you
Why am I fill with gloomy gladness?
Since whoever believes in you
And dwells within your words
Shall swims in extremity of blissfulness
The low high door of progress
Which I all the time knock
Since you own the key to man's good luck
Let mine be opened wide as you spread soil
Since the truism is you own all
And you're but one
That dwells high above the horizon
And having vast eyes that see entire
Since you know of unspoken words
Beyond imagination of it thinker
Let all my wish be granted
Since you're a man and a woman
Although we predict you're a man
For all man is head or front
Since you're the oldest
That no one ever sees
Only know who you really are
Bless me with unending happiness
Since you're the world's ruler
That rule lives beneath the water
And lives upon the ground
And lives within the air
And lives high above the heaven
Rain upon me your grace
And drench me with goodness
Rain upon me your grace
And drench me with goodness



Copyright © Afolabi Muideen | Year Posted 2015