Best Compelled Poems

Some of us are secretive at first. We hide our poetry’s soul self, 
gently letting her peep out; sometimes regretting it immediately.
Fearful of critiques from...

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A Poet's Gift

A poet writes to share a secret depth 
Of feelings within their soulful breast.
They write to grasp onto immortality,
To be remembered beyond their...

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The year has finally yawned and turned       
Upon a half-revealed shoulder.
A vibrancy, intrinsic to a reemerging 
Enforcement of the...

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Proverb 12:25  "Anxiety weighs down the heart, but a kind word cheers it up."


a stray lost
in her thoughts

i saw her
sitting there
nursing a frown

so i
reached...

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like visitors from outer space
they came with tears, and lined the sidewalk
long in face, and arms embracing
some (I have no inkling) who
they were or why...

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My dearest Claudia, 

     For eighteen months, I've been at this Jerusalem outpost.
     "Tis you and young...

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Have I been one among the chain
of those who come to gawk, then strain
to point a finger, poke my nose
into places I don't own?
To claim...

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She is searching for the son taken  from her arms 
 simply because she was believed to be a child herself.
She was unable to...

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And I begin my own steep climb into 
The Chalkland Downs              ...

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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...

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On the night before Christmas, alone in my house, 
Sorrow gnawed at my soul, like a ravenous mouse.
Entombed in my blankets, I struggled to sleep,
Ready...

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Allow me to be disgusted at the jest
and your halfway happy surprise at the end result
of the missile timed precisely:

Did he just splatter?

And allow me...

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A whole new twist to the same old story
Evil scientist in their laboratories
Creating monsters that live in the night
I often reflect on mankind's plight
As mankind...

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We are polar opposites trying to connect,
Walking through a field of land mines.
Sometimes we don't make it through
Without becoming a bit maimed.

I am the steadfast...

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Scurrying on my way home, a little leaf catches my eye, and I am compelled yet again to slow down.

a whirlwind of thoughts
compete with swaying...

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