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Best Courage Poems

Below are the all-time best Courage poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of courage poems written by PoetrySoup members

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Poems are below...


New Courage Poems

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

A Man with Courage by Gindwani , Simran
Courage - The Will To Fight by Scheidel, Philip
ARMED WITH COURAGE by Rodrigues, Kim
Finding Courage by Parker, Ali Jay
Courage Under Fire by gullaci, vince
Courage of Youth, Battle of Ypres, Flanders Field by Lindley, Robert
Courage, True or False by Wright, Tom
You Have The Courage by Project, The Brooklyn Six
Constructing Courage by Peebles, Makenlee
The Red Badge of Courage by Coy, Michael

View all new Courage Poems

The Best Courage Poems

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

Big Girls do Cry

Big Girls Do Cry

They expected her to be the jolly fun one.
The one   w e a r i n g   a smile on her face.
So she became.....who they wanted her to be
She was quick with her wit, telling her practiced fat jokes.
It was a pre-emptive strike of sorts
her attempt to remove the target
from what some thought was her "considerable ass".
Never again wanting to be the "butt" of people's jokes!

She remembers the year she was "Chubby Checker"
the year her parents gave her that checkered jacket
she also remembers how hard she cried.
They laughed and one boy sang 
"Big Girls Don't Cry----- they don't cry!"
She vowed to herself on that very day
"I will never ever cry again!"

There were the many diets
the yo yo effect..."Yo big girl, lookin good"
 Friends asking her  "have you lost weight?"
Those "good for you"s!!!!
The attention felt good in a way
but the weight she'd lose seemed to come back the next day.
Somehow the cursed food felt like her only true friend
the only one on whom she could depend.
The food never judged her
instead it filled the empty sad part
the part that weighed nothing
yet felt like it weighed a thousand pounds!
The part that felt lighter when she was full
it somehow felt like a hug from the inside.

She stopped eating in public
not wanting to hear comments like
"she could do without that ice cream."
There were also the buffet comments
"She's going to get her money's worth!"
Still what hurt even worse
were the nice people
the trying to be kind people
the ones who felt sorry for her people
Saying "all you need to do is lose a few pounds." 
or "you have such a pretty face." 
Some people would tell her "You're just big boned."
Then there was comment she hated the most
"You have such a great personality!" 
For she knew it was all part of the "Fat Girl Show"
the persona she had gifted to them.

Then came the day
that epic day she stopped joking.
When she smiled when she wanted to smile
when she dressed in the ways she wanted to dress.
She embraced the form she was given
she celebrated all of her curves.
She decided to eat when she was hungry
nourishing and loving her body
she allowed colourful foods to occupy her plate.
Strangely, she started losing some weight
but it wasn't her goal
for inside she was becoming whole.
Skinny was not who she needed to be!
When tears came she allowed them to flow free
she was no longer her own enemy
The more she cried
the less she felt her empty.

She learned, everyone
y e s.... everyone,
has some kind of insecurity!
No one is completely who they wish to be
some have hidden bits
others are more obvious,
even  if   some are somewhat oblivious.
She now has learned to be a compassionate witness
one who is much kinder to herself
she doesn't  keep her thoughts on a shelf
So when others make jokes
or give painful pokes...
She tells them "That's hurtful and it's not okay",
"I'm who I am and I'm perfect this way!"
Maybe next time they will consider what they say.
For today and tomorrow and every other day forward
she is more than some number on a scale that she weighs
or some joke in an insensitive phrase.
She now can be and see her true self in extrodinary ways


March 27th 2016
Written by: Richard Lamoureux








Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2016

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

Hallelujah - From the Mouth of Babes - with Silent One

The Guardian
		Melodic lullabies echo	
		As heart strings strum secret chords
		As transcendental images appear
		Stargazers are lost for words
		Kaleidoscopic Illuminations
		Paint the sky in optimistic light
		Hope descends in serene silence
		Floating through shadows of the night
		Dancing spirits move to dulcet tunes
		Shadows can be seen against the moon
		Oh Redeemer do you hear their call?
		Take with you those who have gone too soon
		Hallelujah- Hallelujah 
		Hallelujah- Hallelujah
From the mouth of Babes	
		To hallowed ground we trip hand in hand
		A new chapter to embrace in its splendour
		Ring out voices on notes sweet and clear
		To the universe our souls will surrender
		Fragments of the past spun into flags of freedom
		Our Victory March erased from strife
		Away with the racing winds ever so bold
		Singing Hallelujah to hail a new Life
		The lighter the air the higher we climb
		No more the fetid chitter chatter
		To the fading strains of a repetitive tune
		Not broken -We rise - We matter
		Hallelujah-Hallelujah
		Hallelujah-Hallelujah
The Guardian
		Cyber conducts no hateful words
		Whisper soft winds only of love
		Ring euphonious echoes of Rapturous joy
		While Heaven beckons from above
		Finally free from those who judge,
		Eyes glow as laughter begins to vibrate
		Running together through fields of freedom
		Babes hum rhapsodies that liberate.
From the mouth of Babes
		Jubilous our shouts as onward we go
		Skipping, laughing as each other we chase
		Heaven embraces as we run to her arms
		Soothed we feel in her cocooned embrace
		Dissipate grey clouds from this Promised Land
		Our Hallelujahs peal out sweet and light
		Celestial Symphonies reach a crescendo
		As the stars twinkle lustrous tonight
		Hallelujah-Hallelujah-Hallelujah-Hallelujah

Acknowledgement:
My deepest appreciation to Silent One for his contributions and collaborating with me to bring this message of Hope to parents and loved ones who have suffered the extreme sadness through loss of their innocent children and the dark despair that follows. 

Tragic as their loss is, this poem is to offer solace and perhaps help them understand their child has not totally gone. In ‘Hallelujah - From the Mouth of Babes’, this is what I envision it to be beyond the void of criticism and bullying, where Ethereal beings welcome them back to another innocent realm where they readily resume childlike exuberance. Perhaps, they will return in another time away from their dark experience.’

For my friend Kate Pennington an amazing lady dedicated to helping the youth in ‘Beyond a Joke’ Anti-Bullying Center, Australia, for whom I wrote ‘Starry Starry Night’ some time ago.

Copyright © Maria Williams/Silent one | Posted July 2017

POTW 9th July 2017



Copyright © Maria Williams | Year Posted 2017



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

Doors

There are so many doors
Which ones should I choose
Green, yellow, brown, purple
and many different blues

Some of them are rustic
Others modern and clean
Some lead to the future
others back where I've been

Some doors open easily
while quite a few are locked
There are some left open
and others that are blocked 

A few so enticing 
promise pleasure within
They are slightly hidden
so few will see me sin

I look through some keyholes
wondering if I'll be safe
I see rooms of plenty
and tables draped in lace

The doors that are daunting
they fill me with such dread
for I know there's sadness
in the land of the dead

Many doors are happy 
Friends and loved ones are there
those doors are the best ones
being with people who care

Behind some there's music
Pleasured time we can share
Moments of pure magic
those times are far to rare

Doors leading to adventure
Made me glad I took the chance
The sheer exhilaration
that caused my spirit to dance

Some doorways disguised as books
Yes they caused my mind to grow
They pointed to other doors
so I knew which way to go

The doors that I left closed
In the end I don't regret
They could have brought me ruin
or led my soul into debt

Of all the doors I'll walk through
The final one is the best
For there my Saviour waits
therefore, I know I am blessed










Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2017

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

A Crow's Command

I be a common salty, once,
No captain's bars, did bear,
Yet blessed was I to venture,
Where few a skipper dared.

From steadfast crow's high perch
I watched the bright coast beacons wink,
Through a biting spray's December gale,
What goring shoals would sink.

For untold days I rocked atop
An oaken spar at length,
While wake and skies conveyed my eyes,
Lord Neptune's sullen strength.

Busy dogs, the mates and jacks
Bent hard to tasks below,
While toward the sky, with glass to eye,
My post waved to-and-fro.

First was I to e'er spot land,
My voice the first to yell,
Aye, first to sight the skull and bone,
And raise the warning bell.

"Thar she blows!" was oft my call
If viewed a breach, had I,
And "Friend or foe?!?" the question barked,
If strange sails split the sky.

But the moments that becalmed my soul,
As the swells ticked off my time,
Were star-filled nights, a bullion moon,
And the phosphorescent brine.

The darkest times were battlements,
When the ship groaned in its might,
But never dark, the eventide,
Sea and sky awash with light!

So rare, it was, to find this tar
On deck or down below,
And rarer still, did I abdicate,
My nest there in the crow.

Well, I'm adrift on shore now,
With brittle bones and gray,
Yet still my mind climbs up the mast,
To man my post and sway.

And when the angels task me,
To a new and heavenly crow,
I'll bend my gaze to the looking glass,
And give a hearty "Tally-ho!"



** EIGHTH PLACE in the "Create A Character" Poetry Contest, Cecelia Hopkins Drewer. Sponsor. **

** SECOND PLACE in the "Best Rhyming Poem This Year Poetry Contest", John Hamilton, Sponsor. **

** Featured as "Poem Of The Day" on February 28, 2017 **


Copyright © Gregory R Barden | Year Posted 2017

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

Beneath the shattered

Test me
I am willing
To fail

Failure
Is not fatal
At all

All things
Are born to be
Broken

Break free
From the outer
Hard shell

Shells can
Hide the beauty
Within

With love
Flowing freely
We glow

Glowing
For all the world
To see

Seeing
All the beauty
They smile

Smiling
Brings them pleasure
As well

Welling
Up from their soul
A gift

Gifted
To all who are
Shattered


I decided to call this a  "Mussetle Train" try one out it is fun.
2 4 2 non rhyming take a word from the end of each stanza(car)
and use a derivative of it to form the premise of the next car in the train.


I am playing with a non rhyming vesion of the Musette form.
The last word of each stanza forms the premise of the next.


Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014

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

Boy oh boy and a girl

I wish to claim
My boyness
My yesterday sillyness
Innocent shyness
My crinkled nose grininess
That hide and seekiness
Spin the bottle 
kind of geekiness 

Getting caught 
My hand in the cookie jarness
That pushing too farness
Collecting comic charminess 
Pulling pigtales
Stolen kisses
Hidden playboy kinda business
Cop a feel inquisitiveness

Being a bit
Self conscience  
A true life witness
Loving the mysterious 
Laughing more than being serious
Feeling delirious 
Not afraid
Somewhat curious

Wondering
About adultness
What it was all aboutness
Thinking that it lead to freeness
I'd know just how to be ness
Eating what I want 
Staying up late kinda keeness

Now I wonder
What was the rushness
To reach adultness
Full of it's doubtiness
What's it all aboutness
I witness it's dreamlessness
It's no longer about me-ness
More mundane
To much sane-ness
Routine and sameness
No one cares if you cameness
Less is less
And more is moreness
Can't see the trees
Through the dark forest

So grab onto your girliness
I'll bring my boyness
There will be more
Way more 
Yesirey
Hotdigity
Joyousness 
No more boringness 
We'll spin in circles
Enjoy our dizziness 
After all
Having fun
Is a serious business!



I wrote this one in December 2014. 
I am now proud to enter it into Shadow's contest.
I hope you have as much fun reading as I had writing it.


Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014

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

Little Fire

I witness you fading away, The winds blow frantically They are against us, as all are Little fire, rise in my cupped hands Be it my life I shield from the elements so unfeeling? Little fire, brighten as I feed you This moisture receding from my pores must cease Before I drown this diminishing beauty I gasp, Surprised at the howls and retorts of this icy tempest Nature’s exhalations mean to end what must naturally end My hands shake Little fire—my life! —I must keep you alive! Grow against all odds Against the screaming whirlpools of bluster Against the torrential tears that mean to overcome you Against the ashes that can only watch the desolation around you, As you search for more fuel to masticate My flesh is no treasure to me, So lick me deep, my flame Devour these hands that shield you Rise hastily, as you burn Ascending up my arms, Lighting every goosebump, shriveling every hair Rise till I am all aflame in this wilderness Boil and evaporate every murderous tear— The fluids of sorrow that so pulverize purpose Eat through every sinew, and every tissue, Every muscle and every bone that has grown For this moment and this moment only I give you every piece of me, little fire! So that my spirit, finally free, shall rise to the heavens Past the shrieking winds, preceding through the jeers of thunder I give you my all, blessed fire! So that these eyes may witness every storm die And I may laugh at their futility!


Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2016

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

The Grake - For Dr Seuss Contest



On a warm summer’s day, in the month of July, 
in a town that’s as small as a grasshopper’s thigh,   
walked a girl with a flower, her eyes looking down,
when she bumped into somebody wearing a frown. 

Now this Someone was someone she’d met once before, 
and the words that he’d said, she had tried to ignore; 
so she turned on her heel and she headed away
but the Someone called after her, shouting out “HEY!”

He said, “Hey you, Missy, you know who I am?
I’m the Someone who will and the Someone who can! 
I’m disliked in this town, but I know what I’ll do -  
since they seem to hate me, then I’ll make them hate you!”

Now, the girl with the flower was starting to shake, 
'cause she knew from before that this guy was a Grake!
And all Grakes are unstable, they’re mean and they lie, 
and they like to cause trouble, and make girlies cry. 

So the next day, she’s walking, her eyes are cast down, 
when whom should appear but the Grake with the frown!
“See, I told you I’d be here, to maim and to crush!”
Then he shouted out words that would make a hog blush! 

Well, the girl with the flower just stood there, confused, 
'cause she didn't deserve to be hurt and abused,
just an unlucky victim of graking, it seemed,
from a Someone who’s vengeful, and grumpy, and mean. 

So she just stood there silently, knowing she should,
'cause defending herself wouldn’t do any good,
and a crowd began forming, just gathering ‘round, 
just to watch the poor girl, and the Grake with the frown.  

And the Grake carried on for what seemed like an hour, 
(for when Grakes have an audience, this gives them power).
He ranted and threatened, and made quite a shrill, 
'cause he’s Someone who can and he’s Someone who will. 

Now, the crowds that all came (and they stopped and they stared) 
Well, they tried to speak up but they felt a bit scared 
so they just stood there, watching, and shaking their heads
and they thought, “glad it’s HER there, and not me instead!” 

Well, the next day it happened again just the same; 
that Someone, that Grake, played his same awful game-
He attacked the poor girl and he caused such a scene, 
and the crowd gathered round, just to watch him be mean. 

And the girl with the flower just took it all in, 
with a tear on her cheek and a trembling chin, 
and she felt her whole world start to crash to the ground,
when suddenly, she heard such a beautiful sound: 

“Stop it, you meanie! You’re nothing but bad!”
(‘twas the voice of a young girl named LuLu McMad.
“You’re nothing much more than a big awful Grake!
So stop it right now, You! Go jump in a lake!” 

Now all eyes were on LuLu, but she held her ground; 
she walked up to the girl and they both turned around
and they stood there with both of their backs to the Grake. 
Such a simple, yet wonderful statement to make. 

Then two people joined them, they stood with them, proud. 
Then two more, then three, then the whole bloomin’ crowd, 
until every last one had their back to the Grake,
and he finally realized, he’d made a mistake! 

See, when someone is being harassed or put down,  
it’s not nice to just stand there and not make a sound. 
So don’t be afraid to stand up for what’s right!
And make all the Grakes of the world lose the fight. 

!!!!


If you're being bullied, don't engage - just walk away... and tell an adult.  
If you see someone being bullied, speak up!  It can be scary to stand up to a bully, because we’re afraid we might become the next victim.  But sometimes all it takes is one person to break the power that a bully thinks he or she has; it also helps others to be bold enough to speak up too.  Be the brave one ... and do the right thing. 

Dedicated to the sweet and fearless Laura Loo. 



Copyright © Becca Teagan | Year Posted 2016

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

Adored to Abhorred

from owned to dethroned
you led me
from queen to unseen
you hid me
once crowned to now bound
you kept me

absorbed to derobed
you left me
a spectacle to be gawked at
you jeered me

from diamond to dust
you threw me
once devoid of lust
you spurned me

and yet, here I am
  naked
       bleeding
              dishonored
  unwanted

here I stand
here I smile
biding my time a while
knowing as I do
the inner splendor shines through

I bathe my naked body
perfume every curve
comb out my raven hair
for I dare
This is swear:

None can usurp my throne
It's mine and mine alone
I climb the stairs
and they all stare
yes, they stare
so aware
the Queen has returned
your history’s been burned

I'm here
more beautiful than before
radiance galore
I see you
with flames of desire
once more in your eyes
you...watch me.....R^I^S^E

my glory emanates through
every idol set up by you
adoration's MY due

It is true:

discarded to lauded
I taunt you
demeaned to re-queened
I rule you

I reign, I disdain
don't be vain
your plea to return
I will burn
spurn
I'll watch you yearn

you can't take me back
I know what you lack
a heart and a soul
I won’t make you whole

Knighted to blighted
I see you

And so….
adored to abhorred
I leave you


Eileen Manassian Ghali


Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2016

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

Flip Me Over

Old souls don't drift off and die
Sit there idle, or even care why
Achieving greatness takes time
Values and a certain state of mind

Realize, for once, it's not just what you see
Understand nuance, syntax, and hyperbole
Help yourself, don't get fooled by any old shroud
Though others are silent and lost in the crowd
Rise up, be courteous, let words show them wrong
As free as a whisper and the cardinal's sweet song


Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2017

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

Slave

Like a herd of cattle, placed on a ship.
Upon my back, I felt their whip!
Ripping into my flesh, excruciating pain.
Forced across the big water on a trip.

Living in darkness with little to eat.
The feel of chains around my feet.
Amidst tortured cries, the ship did shake.
Waves pounded the hull with relentless beat.

Only once a day, would we see the sky.
Huge sails, caused the ship to fly.
Further and further away from my home.
Feeling confused not understanding why!

A white devil, steered the wooden ship.
All his mates evil with scabbed putrid lips.
Yet we, depended on them for our lives.
Without them, into the ocean we'd slip.

The journey long, felt like an eternity!
I longed to be anywhere but on the sea.
My mind occupied with thoughts of my home.
yet, I could not escape this horrible enemy!

Sick and dying were forced to walk the plank.
Then into the cold water they quickly sank.
The sailors laughed, as the last man was tossed!
Their spirits boistered with the rum they drank.

Many days later we finally made land.
A place of stone and wood, I could see no sand.
Crack of the whip, we rose to our feet.
"Off of my ship!"was the devil's final command!


For Verlena's "Writing in a black Perspective" Contest



Story continued for my own pleasure, not part of the entry.

Slave Part Two

Brought in chains, to a raised wooden stage.
Bids tallied carefully, sales written on a page.
That was when I witnessed, a most perfect girl.
Bought by a fat man, she was placed in a cage!

I was up next, I stood still as he bid on me.
"One dollar, gimme two, two dollars, sold for three!"
Then I was taken and locked up in the cage with her.
Together we both dreamt, of one day being free.

Brought to the plantation, in late September.
I worked in cotton fields, until November.
Then I would be purposed, to cutting fire wood.
For cold and snow came, by early December.

In the evening, we were left to be with our kind.
While in the big house, our master dined.
Later at dusk, my angel girl would come.
Her beauty so amazing, she made me blind!

The taste of her body, my rememberance of home.
We gave each other pleasure, when we were alone.
Even though the master, wanted her for only him.
I felt like a free man, when I would hear her moan!

Her pregnant, I wondered if the child was mine?
If I was the father, I would be bound in twine.
Still inside I prayed, that the child belonged to me.
In the end, that would be certainly be fine.

Nine months later, almost to the day.
The love of my life was taken away.
In death our child born, middle of September.
The master's anger, I could not sway.

I was awoken, ripped out of my bed!
He took out a musket loaded with lead.
Finally free, in spirit we both travel.
There are certainly worse things, than being dead!













Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015

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

The Ballad Of Poet Destroyer

"The Ballad of The Poet Destroyer"

Destroyer, and creator of words
Flying high on the wings of a bird
Drowning every inch, by foes and friends
Where has she gone?

When push came to shove, 
She continued standing tall after every fall
Falling fearlessly like the falling star tapping the lips
Topaz, a star in the eyes of envy the enemy
A dreamlike, miracle mirage, fresh like mints
No reason in remembering yesterday's sad song
Slightly she moves in with the new barren breeze,
A maze in disguise, no way out
A feeling so good, you hate
The naming of names, that won't escape you 
Your eyes of lust, imitate PD's sweetest touch, 
Destruction, with pleasure
A new day, killed by the morning after pill
Everyone gone, shadows remain
Where, has she gone? 

A feeling so good, you hate
Your unmatched precision, wobbles your stability
She'll give you a taste of rays, despite your low self-esteem 
Happiness turns to sadness, making every jaw drop
Where has she gone?

She's not the painting of Mona Lisa, 
However, it does not stop you from spending your cash-
-To see a picture painted with a frown,
Look what you've done!

Never to return, what was, what is!
You say you love her, then you run
A dry barrel, an empty gun, 
Never will the enemy be number one, 
Nothing but a shadow, a rug for PD,
Like a dream, her imagery is haunting
Love her or leave her, her pen name remains
Poet O' Poet where are you?

Advocate of smiles, enjoy her copy paste kiss
Trace her silhouette found in the midnight mist
Blindfolded, indulge by the wind
Breaking, the Texas Hold EM' Hand
Her freedom, her land
Gone insane, she laughs, 
Untouched she remains, she lives
Inside of me

By; PD


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014

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

Buttercups and laughter

She sings in soft tones,
her magic exists beyond the obvious.
Listen closely to her wanting,
She is wrapped in a trancendent light.

A dreamer,
chasing white rabbits.
Grasping for the infinite,
with delicate hands.

A moth, 
Dances within her luminosity.
Flying on yesterday's wings,
carrying smiles that are meant for tommorow.
Witness her as she waits to exhale.

A daisy chain,
tied around her wrist.
A future promise to be kept.
For within her spirit,
exists a burning passion! 
She waits for one who is worthy,
of her consuming flame

Although she is unaware,
hers is a temporary sadness.
Happiness flirts at the edge of her dreaming,
waiting for an open window.
His shadow hidden behind frosted glass.

Shades of green,
turn brilliant yellow!
Buttercups dance around her feet.
Her laughter floats across the meadow,
as happiness runs to her open arms.

Together they skip, towards her apple tree.
For hers is a faith that trancends the temple.
Her spirit sought and found salvation.
He had been with her all along,
I can see it in her smile.
The rain has passed and sunshine now resides in her eyes!



Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014

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

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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Battling Addiction

               You  told
               me  once  
               about the
               R e l i e f:
               the  f o g,
               that haze
               of apathy
               that  veils
               the  mind,
               b l urri n g
               the  edges
              of your pain. 
             Can  you  feel
          anything  at all? I  
        watch you drink your 
      life  away, far too many 
     moments  lost,  forgotten
    in that  h a z e. I watch as
   you   f e e d   your  disease, 
   suck yourself dry before you
   suck  me  dry,  draining  me 
   like  one of  your bottles, till
   I'm empty inside. But I can't
   wait around for you to  snap,
   to throw me against the wall.
   I won't  shatter  like a bottle. 
   I won't  burst  in a mosaic of 
   glass  and  light.  You cannot 
   b r e a k   someone   who  is
   already b r o k e n. You can't 
   fix someone with  s l u r r ed 
   apologies  or  promises  that 
   smell  like  stale   alcohol.  I
   can't  be  there  to  drown at 
   the  bottom  of  your   bottle. 
   I’m done  with  rock  bottom.


  For Anne's "Battling Addiction" contest
  Placed: 1st


Copyright © Heather Ober | Year Posted 2013

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Lonely Dreams

I never knew following dreams could be this lonely,
But up on the hill, looking back, thank God I'm not the old me.
If the tears will fall, let them be;
I believe this is God's plan, follow your dreams.


Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013

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The Maid of Orleans

Reflecting in her garden sits a winsome little maid;
She holds a purple flower like the circlet that she made
And wrapped about her braids to grace her forehead like a crown;
Her thick and shining braids that are the shade of chestnut brown.
A soft and dreamy smile lifts her lips of cherry rose
As she so elegantly lifts the flower to her nose
To smell the rich and heady fragrance rising from its soul-
Upon this day in early May, her heart with joy is full.
But look! The heavens open wide, and joy is changed to fear,
For Michael the Archangel in the garden does appear,
And with him stand Saint Margaret and Saint Catharine, sent to seek
This girl of twelve, and in her frightened youthful ears to speak
Words form the Lord, of how someday, somehow, she'll have to save
Her native land, her land of France, from lying in the grave.
When in their bright angelic garb these saints to heav'n returned,
She knew they had been sent from God, her heart within her burned
With strong desire, with heaven's fire, to do her Father's will;
Her heart beats hard, while all around is silent, calm and still.

The years pass by, now seventeen, her hour is fully come,
And what is now but distant fancy, dull and throbbing hum
Will be her life, her joy, her pain; her darkness or her light:
For God and country, king and freedom, must, she must needs fight.
The chains of England must be broken, young prince Charles crowned:
A source of hope, of inspiration must for France be found;
For civil war rakes raging claws through weary, hopeless men,
Who fight and die, and sacrifice, and lose their homes again;
Their gardens, flocks and herds, and treasures, all are swept away:
With nothing left but life itself, and naught to do but pray.

God heard their prayer and sent her there for their deliverance,
To lead them on to victory through every circumstance
Of treachery or deviltry that loomed on every side.
Urged on by all the saints above and martyrs who had died,
She bound her armor to her body, helmet to her head;
A troop of eager soldiers to the Orleans siege she led.
Without a fear she faced the battle, banner held up high;
It filled each fainting heart with spirit, waving in the sky:
Unfailing, never falling, always standing at the fore,
And filling every weary soul with courage to the core.
Though wounded by an arrow striking close beside her heart,
She still pressed on to victory, she played her vital part.
The Maid of Orleans did her best, she held back not at all,
But risked her life at every turn to heed her heav'nly call;
She fought and bled and braved the beast until her king was crowned,
And even then she carried on, she traveled all around:
Each city gained broke off the chains of power-hungry kings,
Who killed to gain another's land, his citizens and things.

Alas! She met her fate at hands that should have helped her cause;
The countrymen she battled sold her to be judged by laws
And men that all disfavored her, yet still she firmly stood,
Proud head held high, two gleaming eyes; she answered best she could
Each twisted question meant to trap her clear but simple mind:
With wit and art she answered each; they really could not find
A cause for death, but death must be for such an enemy
The fate; who sees such visions full of vile heresy,
Of saints and angels revelating mortals with God's plan.
They also charged her with the sin of dressing like a man,
But it was of necessity she donned a soldier's guise;
For all throughout the war-torn realm roamed pairs of hateful eyes
Who did not heed a woman's cries, but did what pleased them best:
They killed or maimed or stained for life from eastern France to west.

So thus it is, not twenty years, they chain her to a stake-
The final chain that no amount of bravery can break.
Within her dress, hugged to her chest, she tucks a wooden cross;
The symbol of the Son of God, who faced such early loss
Of life, and like her was betrayed and mocked and led to die
Without a cause, without a crime, without a reason why.
Ten thousand people press around; she feels the burning heat,
As flames grow hotter, ever hotter- licking at her feet:
But on one thing and one thing only both her eyes are fixed;
Upon the figure held before her- on the crucifix.
And she is thinking of a time that seems so long ago,
When as a girl she used to sit and watch her garden grow;
She'd pick the purple petaled flowers, braid them in her hair;
Her life was simple, pure, and sweet, she hadn't any care
Until Saint Michael gave her calling to her way back then.
But if she had another life, she'd do it all again,
For God and country, king and freedom she could die this death;
And so it was that thus she died, and with her final breath
Her soul and body parted ways, and while her body burned,
Her soul went on to realms unknown, her soul to heav'n returned
Into the hands of He who made her, to the arms of Christ the Lord;
Who made for her a better body, more than just restored.
Here ends the troubles of this maiden, gone are jail cells dark:
Forever live the Maid of Orleans, known as Joan of Arc.



{Written by Isaiah Zerbst. For the first time published on October the 13th, 2014.}


Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2014

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It's hard to say

No
A small little word
And yet so hard to say
It tempts me to say
Maybe
Maybe I can make it work
I so desperately want to say yes
It hurts
Crushes me
To see you disappointed
Those times when I have no time
When I am stretched to the limit
Commitments 
Piled
One on top of the other
The important less important things in my life
When I have no energy
No extra to give
No way of knowing if I'm making a mistake
I say no to give myself a break
Some space to breathe

Sometimes no
Is meant to protect
No you can't go
To that party
Spend time with that girl
Hang out with that guy
No I won't change my mind
Even though I have to be the bad guy
No is a declaration
That I care for you
I want only the best
I want no harm to come to you
No is a tool I use to strengthen you
No you can't quit
You must finish what you start
There is no better feeling
Than seeing you succeed 
Those times I said 
"No, you can do it on your own."
Even though I desperately wanted to help
No meant I trusted and believed in you
You can do more than you think you can
No one is more proud of you

I wish you to know
The power of no
When it comes to a girl
No really does mean no
When you are put in an awkward place
You don't have to say yes
Choose your no wisely
No I don't want to go
No I don't want another drink
No I have somewhere else to be
No I will not let you treat her that way
No you cannot cross that line
No I deserve better than that
Yes, no is a small little word
It can change your path
Give you time to breathe
No, opens up possibilities
To choose
The yes
That is right for you
Yes or no
I believe you will choose wisely
Even though no
Can be a hard word to say






Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014

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Follow Your Heart

Follow Your Heart Father Time has brought us safely thus far And our future is not tied to some distant star. We’ve always had each other’s arms That kept us together and safe from all harm. Yet, all our yesterdays now stand alone. And we know that tomorrow is not cast in stone, Where once we saw happiness, now there is pain It seems memories and heartaches are all that remain. So, when life seems the darkest and troubles appear And all the world’s dangers, alarmingly near, Remember our love - let it play its part And don’t be afraid to follow your heart. Written By John Posey 06/15/13


Copyright © John Posey | Year Posted 2013

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We are the Children

We are the Children

Bombs fall from the sky
The little children wonder why?
The night is mixed with blood and tears
Screams that deafen the little ones ears

In the name of what God or religion?
Is this killing seen to serve a mission?
In the name of what Tribe or Country?
We the children ask you humbly

We used to play and run all day
Now we hide fearing bombs come our way
The days we wander in search of foods
Hiding from soldiers intent on blood feuds

Bombs still falling from the sky
The pain and terror, when shall we die?
There is a gun on top a dead soldier there
I myself ended this pain that I could not bear

The bullet saved me from more despair   


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016

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Sending Waves Touching Beautiful Always

She who sends waves touching beautiful warm and gracious words
Draws bright sunshine smiles in our hearts as they sing in her grace
Flowing from the heart her beauty held in her Quill ready to write
Pure diamond sparkling rainbows as a true friend is a friend in deed

The tidal wave raises fine soaked sand from the bottom of the ocean
And the waves curl out pearl white reflecting a most Picture Perfect
Image that is truly splendid and always sublime to behold and cherish
As Nature’s soft wind caresses your aura and inspires your next poem

She who sends these very waves touching beautiful personifies a Muse
So rare, so special—and brings her influence and talents to bear in
Masterfully supporting the efforts of fellow poets and dreamers as they 
“Spill Ink” on blank pages late at night crafting their next poetic masterpiece

The very power and wonder of her good works and positive influence are
Always there magnificently arrayed like pure beams of sunshine touching
And dazzling all in her reach quite profoundly with the magic of her thoughts 
And the quiet courage of her convictions as the simply wonderful poet she is
    
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem (Free Verse Poem),
November 26, 2014 

NOTE: Written in Honor of Anne-Lise Andresen for Her Fine Poetry and For 
Her Continued Professional Support and Encouragement of Other Fellow Poets.


Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2014

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I Have Fallen

I clasp your hand the moment I realise I will fall alone
You grit your teeth in anger holding me as I dangle there
Your jawline is rock hard, the veins on your head popping out,
You are breathing in and out in desperate fear of losing me
But your lightening, determined eyes shoot through me and say,
"Damn it all!
I love you
I will never let you go"

The mountain's edge falls around me and below us
But I will not look down
Gravity is pissed
With all of my strength I hurl my shoulder upwards so that my other hand clasps your arm
You pull me up to safety and draw me into your fiery embrace

Nothing will take us but each other...
I know this and sob in your arms
I have never fallen so in love with you
In that moment when death was so close
From here, we will rise
Kiss me relentlessly through all destruction,
You have taught me that
Every mountain will fall before us


Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2016

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Courage



     Courage is understanding
          and confronting reality...
     Cowardliness wounds us with its lies,
          courage binds us in its Grace...
     The moral courage to share love is in and
          of itself our most vigorous defense of fear...
     Self-respect can be lost 
          in the cowardice of silence...
     Bravery bears no chain of betrayal...

     The pain of failure is
          the most useful tool of courage...
     God did not endow us with the will to die
          but with the courage we bring to living...
     Fear could be an extraordinary opportunity
          that may never be presented to us again, seize it...
     The purest form of bravery
          lives in an artist's heart...

     12/13/2016
          


Copyright © Charlie Smith | Year Posted 2016

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Just keep holding on

Just keep holding on

I know,
to you,
the world
doesn't feel right
I know,
you gave up,
you gave up the fight
I know,
to you,
the world is your enemy
I know,
you feel,
you feel like 
you'll never be free

Chorus

So Just keep holding on
the nights almost over,
soon will come the dawn
Just keep holding on
relinquish all your sorrow
pray to make it to tomorrow
Just keep holding on
The future will get brighter
tomorrow you'll be one day wiser
Just keep holding on
The sun will always rise again
and you'll make an even better friend
So Just keep holding on
Just keep holding on


I know, how you feel,
like the world 
is coming to an end
I know how you feel,
Like you 
haven't got a friend
I know how you feel,
Like everything 
goes so wrong
I know how you feel,
You don't feel
very strong
I know how you feel,
you feel like 
you don't belong.

So just keep holding on
Just keep holding


Chorus

So Just keep holding on
the nights almost over,
soon will come the dawn
Just keep holding on
relinquish all your sorrow
pray to make it to tomorrow
Just keep holding on
The future will get brighter
tomorrow you'll be one day wiser
Just keep holding on
The sun will always rise again
and you'll make an even better friend
So Just keep holding on
Just keep holding on

John Derek Hamilton
January 28,2016









Copyright © John Hamilton | Year Posted 2017

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Melody of a forgotten generation

We are a Melody,
We are what no one can see.
We sing together in perfect harmony,
We rise and fall,
Our souls are big but sometimes small.
The evils haven't caught us all.
Not many of us are left,
Over the ones who perished we have wept.
But we knew the cards we were dealt,
We won't stumble when we look into the eyes of death.
Hand and hand,
We will always sing to the hearts of man.
Untill the very last of our days.

We each made a commitment,
The fears we have makes us stand no different.
To all we may seen forgotten,
Some of us are still remembering the ones who have fought with them,
Remembering when they caught them.
And killed them while they were still singing,
They died for us....so we could continue our purpose among the living.
Along the shadows of the buildings,
Along the Street,
That's where we will be.
We are a melody,
We are ones you can not see.


Copyright © Ettie Christian | Year Posted 2016