Best Choses Poems

Five thousand years before the sky was introduced with the sea
It was at that time, that God wrote your name adjacent to me
Even before the...

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You think you know him
But you refuse to see
The artful way he abuses me
He captivates my mind
He traps my soul
He pins my arms to my...

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Deep in a pocket of light, well within the harsh night
of heat and longing, safe within the porch’s embrace
the down turned eyes .. the upturned...

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Not 
Long 
I 
Know 
this 
'lady' 
This 
lady 
names 
LINDA 
On 
this 
amiable 
platform
Calls 
POETRYSOUP
Not 
Long 
I 
started 
to 
write
On 
this 
platform
And 
not 
long 
I...

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The sun plunged
In the space of silence,
The summer has been extended
In a slow wandering ...

The orb has been drunk,
Gradually, by fringes.
> We did not hear...

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There are things, Gaëlle, that are pretty good
Say hello to her mom every day,
Say hello to the nice weather vane,
Listen to the trains in the...

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One spring day,
An angel plays,
A magical play...
She made me sit
On the back of a butterfly...

Huuuh huuuh huuuh
Oye yea yea!!! 
Hmm hmm hmm...
I hum...
Hsss hsss hss,...

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You’ll never be an Olympic champion, Cecile,
After your accident on the ice,
Just walk, only,
There are so many beautiful things to do,
While walking, only, doubly,
Walking makes...

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Reading a post by Alfred Vassallo, I have decided to start a discussion on soupers about the ortodoxy of poems. Vassallo complains that the site...

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Part 1: Catalyst
I recently read a blog that purported to report news
Of extraordinary import to us all,
That the Catholic Pope, with a new encyclical letter,
Announced...

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I do appreciate the sky
that is not flying high
the moon is so powerful 
the yellow grey clouds protective of,
The light blue sky that turns Blue...

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"I agree," Bayard murmured while looking at the few people walking I across the street. Summer was over and the boy was beginning to get...

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L'Assimilation – Non! Translation of Oodgeroo Noonuccal’s “Assimilation – No !” by T. Wignesan

Born Kathleen Jean Mary RUSKA on November 3, 1920, in the North...

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Words are the tools of my trade
a carpenter choses to use wood
with which great things he makes
my choice will always be words

Just like an artist,...

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Quand le jour se levera, la lumiere eclaira
la bonte divine nous reviendra et l'amour s'eclatera dans nous
voila les chemins menant de partout
les passagers et les...

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