Best Come Across Poems | Poetry

Below are the all-time best Come Across poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of come across poems written by PoetrySoup members

Search for Come Across poems, articles about Come Across poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Come Across poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

See Also:

Poems are below...



New Come Across Poems

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

Doug Jones Did Come Across by Horn, James
Do I Ever Come Across Your Mind by Ashe, Walter T.
TO COME ACROSS by DEVNATH , BL

View all new Come Across Poems

The Best Come Across Poems

Details | Come Across Poem | Create an image from this poem.

When It Comes To Me

I often sit for long periods of time
hoping the perfect beginning will come to me.
To write a poem that starts with a pristine Capital
leaving readers with great expectations.

But after much torment, with not a fleck of gold in sight,
it's comes to my attention
that much like life, How it Began
isn't half as important as How it Finishes,

(And neither as important
as How it Is in the Present)

That's how it was, in any case,
when the landlord dropped the news
that sunny Idahoan morn;

It was a time for a change, they all said in unison:
my sister, my brother, my mother ---
And like the sweetest melancholy, I couldn't help but agree,

For I knew no matter where I went
I'd always have poetry ...

(but now it seems she has alluded me)

Through 2,500 miles and 9 states;
through a million and a half brand new things 

... and yet

Inspiration refuses to sing.
As I sit here in suspense
for that metaphorical gravy train,
wondering when the words
will start flowing again.

Will it be like it was before,
when it comes to me?
Ears perked to the extreme
with expectations of a symphony?

When it comes to me ...

Will they laugh? Will they cry?
Will my words come across
like softest lullaby?

Because sometimes our muse just up and leaves,
we wonder why.
But no my most cherished friends,
we mustn't cry,

for it's been a great adventure,
has it not?

Remember the words of Dr. Seuss:
Don't be sad that it's over,
Smile that it happened.

Though words were once putty in my hands
I now take in the beauty that encompasses me,
content to just let it sit,
without the need to express it ...

But don't be fooled, Dearest Reader,
for I have the highest hope
that stars will dance,
leaves will fly,
birds will sing,

WHEN it comes to me.

But will you believe me when I say
I've watched the stars fall and flicker
between the leaves
a hand's breadth from my fingertips?

(go on and take a sip
the magic's free)

That I've breathed in the air,
as if it were honeysuckle blooming in the sky
just for me.

Oh and how I wish you could see
beyond the words of this page,
for it's beyond a tragedy
that all I have to give is this poem.

You know I'd offer you my eyes
for you to see the things I'm seeing.

(put your hand on my chest,
can you feel it beating?)

Like the petals of a rose
she holds me close:
the place where the bright rubicund clay
makes way for my Armstrongian footprints

---just one small step
then comes the leap---

My arms spread wide
hoping for discovery,
but preparing for catastrophe ...

And believe me when I say
I couldn't dream of sleep,
for when it comes to me
the minstrels will weep,
the prisoners'll be set free ...
as emotions become ablaze
in new and surprising ways.

For there's a lily pad pond,
just outside my backdoor ....
that's begging for a tale to be penned.
There's a place called Mount Alto
sitting just like a storybook
outside the backdoor, my friends,

whilst I sit here
listening to the cicadas sing
in Valley Soprano,
reminding me that everything
is but a poem-in-waiting:

The rolling green hills
bearing witness of mountain familiarity;
the black butterflies
flitting between
the berry blossoms of May.

Everything is so new here ...
far beyond anything I could ever say.
And I hope I can do it justice,
to paint a picture in your head,
with every ounce of the things I've said ...

(auto-biography? fantasy?
you won't be able to tell the difference
when it comes to me)


Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016


Details | Come Across Poem | Create an image from this poem.

To An Injured Fox Cub - with thanks to Michael Coy

Today I found you cornered, drenched in cold,
your fur coat nothing but a newborn's down,
a tiny ball unfolding while I hold
you shivering. Your lacerations frown

and at a distance, I can see the why
of your abandonment, the birds of prey.
I’ve saved you, but you’re causing me to cry:
serrated weapons, Nature’s passion-play,

as blood-attracted sharks, still circling, wait:
I sense the breath-starved fright that made you flee,
those teeth, those claws, you were their blameless bait.
You can’t yet comprehend that you are free.

I see the wounds, some healed, some raw and new,
they're deep, beyond the matted fur and skin.
Four little paws, so tender, sprawled askew,
I seem to feel that you and I are kin.

You mark each move. Mistrustful eyes, so green,
incapable of rest, stir to suggest
you'll try to bite if I will try to clean
the bloodclots, so I hug you to my chest.

You flinch to feel my cuddle. Have I planned
some fiendish way to torture you anew?
The tiny space your wretched life has spanned
has taught you only suffering is your due.

Careful now, I’ll wrap you in a cloth,
And whisper words you cannot comprehend.
Oh tiny one, you're no more than a moth!
It’s alright now. You’ve come across a friend.

Your warmth is blossoming against my breast.
I want to teach you gentleness and calm.
There’s nothing here to threaten you: so rest,
You’re safe now from anxiety and harm.

I'll guard you through the night until you sleep,
until the chesty wheezing eases up.
This is protectiveness, it's seated deep:
I’ll always help a vulnerable pup.

Your heart is racing hard against my hand,
awaiting pain, as wizened captives do.
Believe me, Little One, I understand.
For I have been a broken prisoner, too.

***

May 30, 2017 
Copyright © Darren White


Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017


Details | Come Across Poem | Create an image from this poem.

About Me - p.d.

    "TELL YOU ABOUT ME "
   
Born a full blown Libra to a scale of blind justice
My hair & eyes are brown as can be
I come from a large family
Don't like to be called a princess 
every now and than you still find me climbing up a tree
My daddy paid for my expo ride
My favorite color comes in green
In my hometown I join the women baseball team.
I still own a lot of Mardi beads
I love boxing in my own back yard
I dislike when people think I am very brainy
I no longer care of the Physics of my stare
Funny to think I once knew that the mass and energy,
is related to the famous equation E=mc (tiny) 2....
c how I love the speed of light, gravity do to motion due
m &o are like the m&m of the mass related to the observation of me
LOL : - )  I still have a bit of physics dumb minded skills
Ask me this tomorrow and I will forget every # of square root
Yikes to geometry I want to c light when it comes to v for my velocity,
changing and walking to a straight direction to my four walls of dimension.
That is me not so nutty but a little crazy
With an IQ, to mix and match & play it out.
I love the challenge when I'm standing on my own high horse
Ask me to many questions you will get a beat around the bush
Who really needs to know the truth about being confused
I love to passion out my color pink.
I alway come across to many eye blinks
Get caught up in puzzles that help me think
Yes I love video games Just got done playing "Halo"
M.K. Liu K. is all I got to say/// me play Guitar Hero? hmm? ;-)
My spirit does not let go of the cartoon phase.
When it comes to favorites, I place my son as # 1
How about my favorite niece, she my only true buddy
My favorite all time poet, not many care for his dark eyes Mr E.A. Poe
Emotions to feel it all, why not let it show.
Do not give me coffee, I will over expose my silly charms.
I love my dog, hate his fleas, I keep him away from the birds and the bees
One thing I can not go with out is to solve a mystery when in doubt
I guess sometimes I can't even figure myself out, 
Why some one would say I can be a role model?
This is just a bit about me, ooh yes I forgot to mention 
I love the slamming world of all kinds of poetry.
                
 by:p.d.


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010


Details | Come Across Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Probing the Unconscious Space

If the unbearable lightness of being has pushed you to the brink of catastrophic meltdown,
walk to the edge of our flat two-dimensional existence 
and take a leap of faith...

You may drift through space for quite some time
eyeing the stars, the planets, the galaxies
that make up the great and boring universe beyond.

Eventually you'll come across darker, scarier territory,
unseen with the naked eye
yet comprising 95% of all matter,
and all that matters,
otherwise known as the unconscious.

Some day you'll feel safer in the void, 
more secure,
at peace.

With not one mirror in sight to reflect your self concept,
everything and nothing make perfect sense here,
for they are one and the same.

You are the only observer
of man's true final frontier
and his one and only mystery.


Copyright © Yoni Dvorkis | Year Posted 2009


Details | Come Across Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Her Show

She doesn't dance like Anna Pavlova
She doesn't sing like Diana Ross
but on this blissful day I am watching
the best performer I've ever come across

She wobbled on her pique turns
She forgot to point her toes
but she never lost her smile
a perfect angel until the close

She might not sing in perfect rhythm
She might not always be in tune
but her singing is so beautiful
it makes this proud daddy swoon



Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2014


Details | Come Across Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Interstellar Love

I searched earth and my love was 
nowhere to be found.

Now I travel to distant galaxies searching 
for my love in space

where it's cold and there's no sound. 
Where could she be?

Is she in an alternate universe. One that's 
parallel to mine?

Do I have to travel through a wormhole? Is 
she in another

place in time? I asked the stars where can 
I find her and 

none of them could tell me. I asked an 
alien sun but he gave

no answer. His bright unusual light only 
making it hard for me to

see. I asked every neutron star and every 
pulsar. Every nebula

cloud I've come across. I even asked a 
supernova where she 

could be. But his answers turned out to be 
false. None of the

constellation of stars seem to know where 
my baby is. Orion

doesn't know. Gemini doesn't know. 
Neither Andromeda or 

Sirius. I'm in interstellar despair, travelling 
through the deepness

of space. Going from one universe to the 
next and hoping that one

day I'll see my baby's face. I don't know 
how many light years I'll

have to travel. Or how many cosmic doors 
I'll have to knock on. All

I know is that the desire to search for my 
love beyond the stars will 

never be far from gone....



Copyright © Skyler Woods | Year Posted 2014


Details | Come Across Poem | Create an image from this poem.

--And Raes of Sunlight Kissed My Cheeks

Pale moonlight peeks gently for me right now,
yet it feels bright as day for me
as I think of you—

Cloudy velvety skies cover the glow of moon,
yet it’s still comforting like thick blankets on a cold eve
as I realize—

That is how warm your light is,
since you spread so much love
with your friendship, with your poetic gems 

It is almost as if 
you absorb Sol’s glow—
Your love for laying out in the sun paying off,
as you emanate that sunny energy
to people you come across with...

Your words have the strength of a warrior,
(A word warrior indeed!)
yet it also has the gentleness of a lady.

Your presence magnetic,
pulling heartstrings
like beams of sunshine
being brushed along a canvas
to paint a rainbow.

I think of you,
especially on this special day
as I celebrate a beautiful friend.

Yes, crickets are chirping
along with me right now...
Perhaps a song for you?
Darkness all around me,
with lights dim...

And yet
smiles twinkle in my eyes

I think of you,
...And raes of sunlight
will always, always
kiss my cheeks.








***Smiles, love and hugs to a beautiful and 
wonderful friend.
Happy, happy birthday, Andrea sweetie!!! 
^_^ 

September 5


Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2012


Details | Come Across Poem | Create an image from this poem.

The Stone Unturned

There are three little words on tiny stones strewn along the floor
of a never-ending stream which runs through a misty moor.
A marvelous moor of uncertainty where mysteriously all are led
to cross a flowing water all humanity must tread.

Those three little words like pebbles thrown by children just for sport
randomly and carelessly bear no great import.
Flung into streams, they become the water’s bed.
They represent what everyone to someone else has surely said.

As you cross the water, you’ll feel those rocks underfoot.
Inconsequential to your journey, they’ll stay where they were put.
But some are blessed who as they wade across that little river
Catch a gleam from beneath the stream such that sends a shiver.

Something glistening through the ripples impelling them to freeze,
to search among the other stones, to get down on their knees.
And as they stoop with hands outstretched, they strain to catch the ray
which from the depths of murkiness shines to show the way.

Their fingers reach through icy cold, the other stones ignored
until they grasp that precious one to be their best reward!
They bring it from the water; its light fills up the sky.
Its color irridescent; they laugh until they cry.

They look for the “I love you” which on ordinary stones is inscribed.
but instead of the three little words is a feeling that can’t be described.
They find themselves transported onto another plane,
alone with their own beloved away from all the mundane.

Perhaps to fields of gold. Some to glens of green.
But each who is transported finds happiness serene.
Love that lasts a lifetime: unselfish, truthful and kind,
which strives to rekindle passion and fun while expanding the mind.

This is the love most sacred while in the stream we walk
treading upon the pebbles that only know how to talk.
We must walk on continuously with that one stone to seek
because it gives the soul much more than just three words can speak.


Jan. 17, 2017 For Jamie Pan's contest: How Long can a poetry go 

Writer's Statement: This is an extended metaphor poem which should be very obvious to the reader. We hear the words “I love you” said by many people throughout our lives and we hear it being tossed about like pebbles also in movies and tv shows. I think all of us are searching for the “real thing.” Therefore, we should try to ignore people whose “I love you” is often falsely said. They are the common stones. In verse four, I describe what it feels like to come across true love, or at least the illusion of it. We stop and notice its brightness because it outshines the others. In verse three, I mentioned “SOME are blessed” to find this stone. Many may think they have found it, but I believe very few actually find it.  In verses five to seven I use adjectives and phrases to describe its great beauty because true love is the most valuable thing I think we can find in life. I conclude in verse eight with a summary, explaining that it is important to find the stone most valuable because it gives so much to the soul. We should ignore false love and tread on it like we would on common pebbles which only speak of love but which do not prolong passion and fun in one’s life or expand the mind. The title is "The Stone Unturned" because with 50% divorce rate and many other couples in unhappy living arrangements, I believe most do not find everlasting happy love. They have left that stone unturned. 


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2017


Details | Come Across Poem | Create an image from this poem.

To Duke

I woke up from the cradles of slumber
My morning eyes opened slowly
My mind frolicked and sang with peace
Remembering your words 
So kind, so memorable were they!
So sweet, so genuine are you!
The mere thought of you takes away the assertive blue

It is a wonder I have come across your mind
It is a blessing like no other—a true, treasurable find!
And there are no words that can truly give you the honor you deserve
But take these, please!
And know there is so much more. . .
So much more that I wish to offer you

Your never-ending thoughtfulness and attention
Has filled me with unremitting appreciation
You really are a beautiful light to my world
Cheering my melancholy with joy
I have never found someone quite like you
And that is the beauty of it all
Finding the gold
The sunlight smiling for your marvelous shine
Finding truth
There is just no other like you!
I would never turn my eyes away
There is just no possible way

That is a blessing I count close to the heart
Finding you, such a rare piece!
Finding you in a churning world of excitement and chaos
Finding you with such delight and gratitude

Thank you so much, Duke!
Thank you for being you!

-Dedicated to a very fine poet named Duke Beaufort-


Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013


Details | Come Across Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Diamonds of Inspiration

Those eyes of yours
Holding a bunch of blue sky 
Have been inspiring me lifelong
To seek rhyme and song
In turbulence  
A Buddha like balance

Then you, the sceptic 
Always asking 
'What is your view?'
Almost like Socrates
Never readily conforming to 
Any set thesis
Would open a sky
Asking why this
Why not that
To discover a new door to stand at
Thus you wanted to groom us:
'Cogito ergo sum'
I think, therefore I am
Relaxing my diaphragm
And now in the twilight I look at
My too many windows to look out
For a new sprout
I thank you there
Among the twinkling stars

And you young girl
How soft suave but yet straight 
Is your speech
While we screech at a little conflict
Raising ugly forms
Ignoring norms of civilization
You are always low but firm
Polite but powerful
I try to be like you
In my communications
In interrelations
A grandfather trying to emulate a granddaughter 
Life is a great assorter

And there you 
The oranges in the tree
The beauty spree
The life and lyre free
Have inspired me
To stay happy
Even in despondency

Then you
The beggar in the street
A lesson for survival
Never say yes to defeat
You have to first sleep and eat
Then towards other vitals 

You the whore
Drifting from shore to shore
Embracing sort of death
For the sake of life
Tiny shines of strife


Where ever you look at life
With a childlike interrogation
With a touch of admiration
Will come across
In a session 
Diamonds of inspiration
___________________________________________________
3/1/2017 : Contest: Who has inspired you most in your life
Sponsor: Brenda Chiri-Carroll



Copyright © Probir Gupta | Year Posted 2017


Details | Come Across Poem | Create an image from this poem.

To the men in the world

My mind is unsettled and there is one reason why.
It is the thoughts that swirl my psyche keeping up to the death of night.
They're not thoughts of theft , rape, murder, or worse.
No.
They're templates for my dedication to the men in the world.Men, as in, the young male adolescentWho made the mistake of sleeping with girls on all his first dates.No protection he used.Instant gratification was the goal.Unfortunately positive news.Drastically turned him cold

"Nine months," she told him, " I was a virgin, you were my first, it has to be yours"
And what did the male adolescent do?What action drove his course?
He looked her in the eye.Knowing fully well she spoke the truth.He said that he believed and would do the best he could.Today the young man is a father of 2.He loves and adores them.Working constantly to provide the life that they're due.And he is a reason I dedicate this to you.

To the men in the world.

This is more than a shout out.Deeper than a Hallelujah to Amen.I mean what I'm saying and I'm saying what I mean.So I earnestly ask that you listen very clearly.The last thing I want to do is come across as girly.This is not me giving men respect.This is me giving men worth.God knows there's little of that going around the earth.When I witness an argument between 2 lovers acting as foes.And the women is the tormentor creating the woe.My anxiety kicks in because I know what statistically has the larger probability of coming next.As he clenches his fists and his arms begin to raise.My heart skips a beat as society's prediction will remain unfazed.
However instead of beating the devil out of her.He flung his arms around  her waist.While she kicked, flew vile words and spat in his face.He hung on to her with the utmost resolve.He quieted her with all his love.
He provided an example of what men are all about.Protection, security, devotion and love.And he is a reason why I'm humbled to be in a reality with the potential to be dominated with men such as he.

To the men in the world.

Men who stay true to who they are and what they were meant to do.
Regardless of race,nationality,gender,class or sexual orientation.
They stick true to what's real without pulling face. They teach their sons through the actions of their example of what it means to walk with grace. Men who are gentle and kind but know how to be direct an fair. Men who raise their daughters by showing them women have equal flare. I thank you.

To the men in the world.


Copyright © Abigail May | Year Posted 2016


Details | Come Across Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Outside the Box

She has a flaming spirit 
That could never be confined 
A burning creativity
That makes her daydreams shine

A hope for something better 
Only seen because she tries 
A long since dead idea
Resurrected by her eyes 

She looks right past our atmosphere 
It can't contain the sky
She's got a canvas stretching light-years
And a paintbrush that can fly

Every heartbreak that she's come across 
Is waiting now to dry
In a portrait she created 
To remind her of those times

There's a symphony she's hearing
To every other ear sublime 
A tune that can't live in the box 
But smashes all four sides

By Kyle Ezra Kriticos  


Copyright © Kyle kriticos | Year Posted 2012


Details | Come Across Poem | Create an image from this poem.

The British Weather

It's the only land that you can
get all seasons in one day
you name it UK displays it
all the colors from blue to grey
 
It certainly has loads of great variety
from sun clouds snow and  pouring rain
to hail winds storms and freezing ice
has such a staining effect on the brain
 
The north is such damp climate
having wet damp miserable outlook
fills one with negative thoughts
when sun shines it seems a fluke
 
In the south where it's bright
as it's mostly warmer with sunshine
for it's labelled the English riviera
where it matures like a good wine
 
The east has real mighty gale force
as America's conditions effect the west
when they come across from States
on the atlantic waves full crest
 
So that's Britain's wayward weather
like it or lump it that's your lot
remember you guys across the pond
don't send everything that you've got!

(Just some thoughts on the UK weather and how it varies so much, also a little quip at you guys in US where we seem to get the effects of your east coast storms but rarely your sunshine. but no matter we love you all!!!)


Copyright © Gordon McConnell | Year Posted 2016


Details | Come Across Poem | Create an image from this poem.

The Road

I walk down a road
on my way home
it gets dirty at times
many bumps to oversee
with pebbles in the way
I have to watch
out for the holes 
not to fall upon
to be stumbled and weak
Look now there is the creek
Providing all around with water
and transporting nutrients
I come upon the bridge
That continues to show me 
across the road I am walking
Giving a way to overpass
My feet once would hurt
on this road home
But now I have the best shoes 
as if I am gliding 
I come across many signs
some say turn left
some say turn right
some forsee a dead end
But I will continue to go straight
to follow the one way in route
avoiding all uturns
For I am being guided
and pulled toward my home



Copyright © Stephan McBride | Year Posted 2011


Details | Come Across Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Hero of Hearts-Never Too Far


 
Her face launched a thousand verses, into the worshipful waves she immerses With the mermaids, she converses adorned by many in the ultramarine universes A star child of the celestial seas her warmth blowing benevolently in the breeze For humanity, she will appease as her tears of joy fall from the terpsichorean trees A heart bigger than her white smile, as she indulges with the fish on her lost isle Sailing serendipitously is her only style; touching many a heart admits many a mile She dances underneath the stars and moon, a Delphian dreamer of twilights tune Signals of the heart from her lavish lagoon, sending to us on her rainbow balloon Tender are her words in a heavenly view, morphing with water of the ocean blue Her heart will help you mend and start anew, with shimmering light shining thru A beautiful soul loving and living carefree, of this earth an angel of the first degree As my thoughts sail across the sentimental sea, she will always be a Hero to me. Nov.18.2017 HERO Sponsored by: Silent One This poem is dedicated to Akinna Downing... a beautiful soul and poetess here at the soup...her warmth and kindness have come across in vibes of friendship at times of need...I'm sure you will agree with me...there are many more beautiful female soul poets... I encourage other's to do the same, as I will in the future...thank you again, my dear friend, Akkina...for your warmth, friendship and white smiles...


Copyright © Winged Warrior | Year Posted 2017


Details | Come Across Poem | Create an image from this poem.

A MAJOR CRY FOR HELP

 The tears are too heavy to wipe away, she doesnt bother getting rid of them 
because she feels they are meant to stay

with fiery red eyes and a face with the look of exaust, she feels she has no control 
over the feeling she has come across

she disconnected her phone, black lights and curtins covered her room, she even 
broke her t.v. she had no interest in being outside to enjoy the excitement she 
could see

self medicating, due to a headache every day was the reason everybody believed 
she never stayed awake and barely touched a plate

at such a young age she couldnt even look in the mirrior for a few minutes without 
turning away, and still not knowing what she feels, shes allowing herself to fade 
away

                                               DID ANYBODY GET TO HER BEFORE IT WAS TOO LATE??


Copyright © whitney lacey | Year Posted 2011


Details | Come Across Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Human Figures Made of Clay

Dismal tale of men and women in the dirty rail compartment
No conception of the charm being knitted by the movement
Of the necklace of gentle light in the pants shirts and blouses
All is too occupied in their struggle to notice the kind crescent 
As they are returning home from their respective workplaces

Piteous story of apathy and woe all of them are absorbed in
An old lady chewing parched rice taking it from a rusted tin
In a dark corner is seated a youth with shirt all bloodstained
Suffering from tuberculosis and looking very fragile and thin
A worthless life of empty existence still wretchedly retained

Though no threshold he will come across leading him to a
Plate of  rice and curry as at least one square meal a day
A hawker of playthings approaches them in a smiling face
A second vendor selling some human figures made of clay
A gloomy motion picture of life running in an unfair race


10/07/2017
Rhyme Time with 5 Poetry Contest sponsored by Laura Loo
Using the five words viz Piteous Bloodstained Threshold
Conception and Dismal



Copyright © Probir Gupta | Year Posted 2017


Details | Come Across Poem | Create an image from this poem.

A story behind blue eyes

There is no excuse. Nothing to blame
So I hide my tired eyes and exist in shame
I'm ashamed to live, I'm afraid to die
I find, I'm unworthy to look in the eye
So I hang my head low
And pretend I don't see
I pretend not to know
You recognize me
I come across rude, it seems I don't care
I run and take cover, the truth is, I'm scared

I feel forced to unclothe 
Sacrificing my dignity
Short comings exposed
I resist, beg and plead

So when you determine what you think of another
Remember their journey has been like none other

Though your pride will tell you lies
There's always a story behind blue eyes 


Copyright © Anna Hopper | Year Posted 2017


Details | Come Across Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Blessings

May your day be filled with blessings
As you let your love light shine
And without exception
All you seek you find

When you reach up for the stars
May you pull back every wish
May you have time to use them all
With all the time you have

May all the time it takes
To get all you want done
Come across your plate
While you are still young

May every day be a new beginning
That never draws to an end
And that the life you're living
Be shared with the best of friends

May laughter fill the empty void
And light shine where it's dark
And may you stay 
Forever
Just the way you are



Both my daughters Birthdays are coming up (one day and four years apart) Trying to write them a blessing...What ya'll think?


Copyright © Mike Hauser | Year Posted 2017


Details | Come Across Poem | Create an image from this poem.

a letter to my granddaughter

When daddy brought you home all eyes were on you
As I held you tight to my heart as you rap your 
Little finger around mine and smile was all I can do
As the years go bye every night I drop to my knees
And pray to the lord to keep you safe 
Not a day goes bye that I don’t miss my angle face
Sweet voice calling out the name you choice for me
How you would always say your so silly 
How you eat and run not gain a pound 
The bed time story 
The wake me up to make you break feast
Each morning and ask to help cook 
Bye my side 
Our when you hide one of your toys 
That I come across when you go back home
The way you wrinkle your nose when asked 
A question you don’t know 
How you pose for each picture with your hands
At your sides and a smile 
How we point at our eyes to say I 
Tap our hearts as to say love
Point to you and I as to say you
I love you 
The birthdays come and go so fast 
The hugs come and go 
But in my heart I keep each visit 
And the kisses until I open the door
To see you run into me with loving arms around me
I miss you too 







Copyright © mirian parrilla | Year Posted 2010


Details | Come Across Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Survive Another Day

Sometimes what i write scares me
But not as the ghost that’s been chasing humans including me
I scratch my ford head for couple of days sticking glue in broken metaphors
I come across fake crosses claiming blessings in my feelings about the cross you know the cross
But the ghost in me knows every move before every due date
Pre-written metaphors are difficult to paint easy in due dates
Like freezing feet, they can’t walk in sunny days

Imagine sitting in a cold weather imagining things in cold blooded poetry death row settings
Wearing words attached to all addicted talkative lips
No one can pay attention to the rain of anger
Poetry and a microphone will die as blood brothers
For better or worse as long as creativity keep his promises
Imagine if you can’t imagine words put together by faith
Even Faith Evens puts faith in her words before she loses faith
Faith comes in bags of hope transported in faith
I hope this scary moments i turn to see when i turn my metaphors will reward this bags of hope in faith
Like any born rich fly will want to hunt with all other starving insects

To gain more exposure in between the skin of darkness
In between things trying to meet and make up with Mr and Mrs Sense and our understandings
it’s hard to speak confessions in other accents
Poetry make all sense become your inner response in every word that’s sensible like sensitive regrets

It’s so scary to scare your own little creature skills
While dialogues can easily mumble around wasting time trying to paint a non-existing Bible
I am scared of the ghost chasing babies crawling to kiss poetry goodbye 
Guilty for staying young in poetry for decades
I imagine the Creator walking across countries in shapes of different faces in clouds 
Faces written in the sky reflecting what was the meaning of poetry in the first place

(c) Raymond Ngomane 


Copyright © Raymond Ngomane | Year Posted 2015


Details | Come Across Poem | Create an image from this poem.

To My Fellow Poet, Imaginist

There is a small group of poets I come across sometimes
who write in a very lucid and vividly concrete style which totally enchants
me because, unlike myself, they seem to do it effortlessly. They also
use images that are so unique, I can barely manage to think up
such unusual figurative language. For that reason, I made up the word "Imaginist."
One such poet who wrote in this style was Sondra Ball (recently deceased) 
who published the successful ezine, Autumn Leaves. Although this poem of mine
could refer to other poets I admire here at Soup as well, I dedicate it to her. 

It's not an easy thing for me-
that which you do with mind and 
matter ( paper; ink).
How the world so differently you see.
You startle senses with your
imagery.
Oh, were it so I too could seize
a moment;
throw it back to you
new (and incredibly concrete).
I think that would be indeed sweet.
God gifted you this thing–
this creativity,
and yes, you use it well,
in fact, beautifully.
Though what you do
day in and day out
may only come to me
infrequently,
I will plod along,
my words
to tout (or to flout)
what life is all about.
For you . . .
who fails to hesitate,
Time hasn't long to wait.
Pen in hand, do continue
to, most fruitful one,
proliferate.

For Amy Green's Contest: Wow Me With Inspiration
And now for PD's the free verse (old/new)Poetry Contest


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2010


Details | Come Across Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Beauty's Keeper

She lived inside a hut within the wood-
a strange and lovely woman, nature’s child.
They said she was a witch, but she was good,
a friend to all the creatures of the wild.

The solitary wolf she’d come across,
though wounded, was a living work of art.
He lay beneath the moon with coat of gloss
and eyes that sadly shone; he stole her heart.

He loved her; she admired his grace and might,
and so she sorrowed when he howled with pain,
for when the swollen moon glowed in the night,
she had to keep him fettered with a chain.

That true and feral beauty that she leashed -
was strangely what first drew her to the beast.



For the True Beauty (ending twist) old poems acceptable Contest of Sandy Ivy D



Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2011


Details | Come Across Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Midnight Dreams

Midnight seas above the skies,
stars above our heads,
look at the stars an realize,
from one night in bed,
wings bloom out like butterflies.

One night, a flash of light,
it lasted so very long,
one glare at this sight,
reveals the sun bright an strong.

Last night fantasy,
dancing while the moon shines,
and by the end of time,
white flowers surrounds me,
with its scent smothering me completely.

come across that flash of light,
took me to a new world,
a dream blossoms wildly,
a world that only appears at midnight.






Copyright © verlena dillard | Year Posted 2014


Details | Come Across Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Please Don't Condemn Me

Please don't condemn me For whom or how I pray I sadly pray for the souls of all others That I come across every day I pray wholeheartedly with the feelings, That are felt from within my heart Also for those who think of themselves above me As they arrogantly rip my heart apart This world has become such an evil place Cloked in nothing but selfish greed So to those I can reach,I try to do one thing And that is plant a new spiritual seed So please don't condemn me For whom or how I pray I sadly pray for the souls of all others Before my life here is to be taken away
Dan Kearley:12-4-12


Copyright © Dan Kearley | Year Posted 2012