Best Excitement Poems | Poetry

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New Excitement Poems

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

The sudden impetuous excitement by CHOLT, W.A.
Rainy Excitement Flares by Roper, Eve
As You Feel The Excitement by Asuncion, Bernard F.
Expression Of Excitement by Asuncion, Bernard F.
Excitement On Your Birthday by Asuncion, Bernard F.
Big Event Of Excitement by Asuncion, Bernard F.
Excitement Zone by Asuncion, Bernard F.
Heart's Excitement by Asuncion, Bernard F.
Kingdom Of Excitement by Asuncion, Bernard F.
Endless Excitement by Asuncion, Bernard F.

View all new Excitement Poems

The Best Excitement Poems

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THE BELLE OF THE BALL

Listen to poem:
My dress is made of fine peach coloured lace Hair is in ringlets, which frames my pretty face The lights in the room cast a romantic glow My first ever ball; I must go with the flow The orchestra strikes up a wonderful tune Ladies and gentlemen glide round the room I stand on the sidelines I am oh so very shy Then a dashing young man catches my eye I smile at him, then I coyly avert my eyes I find him so handsome; that I cannot disguise He reaches tenderly for my awaiting hand We move to the dance floor; oh it is so grand His arm wrapped around my tiny waist We dance to the music, there is no haste So full of excitement at the hope of romance I float round the room at my very first dance At the end of the dance he bows down low My heart is aflutter I hope this does not show He leads me gently to the side of the room Sweet roses enchant us, we smell their perfume Time flies by so fast and we dance all night He looks in my green eyes and to my delight Whispers so gently those words I long to hear You simply are the belle of the ball my dear He reaches out gently and kisses my hand My first ever ball has been oh so grand Sadly now it is time for me to depart I bid adieu to the man who has stolen my heart 11~15~14


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014


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Where Gladiators Fought

Part I

Where gladiators fought for life,
we meet to fight for love
The constellations in the Roman night sky,
celestial spectators, bathe the Colosseum
in the white blood of light
The night is throbbing with the heat of our battle,
our cries, more passionate than any that have gone before

Part II

A short while earlier
A well paid bribe found us in the remains of the Ludus Magnus,
the remains of the old Gladiator School in Rome
where lies buried
a hidden entrance to an underground tunnel 
You pull me with you into dark underground world of legend
By light of a flickering torch,
we travel into the entrails of the behemoth,
coming in time upon the holding rooms
My breath catches 
I hear the sounds of man and beast
carrying through the thin layers of time:
Slaves, criminals, debtors, all awaiting their fate…
Animals pawing, grunting, starved for food
Dying to kill to stave the gnawing pain
Waiting….
Waiting to be lifted up into the arena
Waiting to fight 
Waiting to live or die

Part III

We break into the hypogeum
The crispness of the night air stings us
The vastness of it all paralyzes all thought
Rome comes ALIVE
The resurrection of history enflames us,
and as we mount those final stairs up to the arena,
I feel your excitement blazing through me
Your grasp is almost painful in jubilee
“We are here…HERE!” Your voice is laced with the sacred.
Between those famed arches…XIX and XX
We stand 
You and I all and 50,000 ghost spectators
Here at the East Entrance
The Gate of Life Looms above us
True gladiators passed through these very gates 
Here the applause coursed through their veins
And thundered to the captives below…
Here I stand
Quivering with the knowledge of all this night means to me
That thunder reverberates through MY body
I can hardly breathe
Your eyes are looking up at tiered levels
while mine look ahead
There is the walkway connecting the east to west
At the far side is the Libitinarian, the Gate of Death,
through which dead gladiators were dragged,
their bodies dumped in the Spoliarium 
to be stripped of clothes and armor
Life and death
Here, they converged
Here, they fought
On this night
I know
I will strip myself of my clothing and armor
I will let down my defenses
and give in to your onslaught of passion
Here… I will die to all but your eyes

Part IV

I walk, quietly, with purpose
Here….in this place...
my virgin blood will be spilt
Halfway between life and death, I stop
I turn towards you
My voice reaches you on the night wind
“Come to me!”
I see you move towards me
My mighty gladiator
You who have fought my demons
You who have slain my nightmares
You who have held in check
A savage desire for possession
As you stand before me
I wonder if you know
Tonight is the night
You will plunder and ravage
to your heart's delight
your just reward

Part V

You find a place to keep the torch upright
You see the blanket I’ve spread on the ground
I answer the question in your eyes
With the curve of my lips
I steady my hands as they work to undress me
I feel my body burn in the warmth of your presence
Your eyes undress me faster than my hands can,
and yet... you are....immovable
You stand transfixed
You wait until my only covering
Is my flowing hair
"Make love to me
Here, now...be my gladiator
Come...claim your prize."
I reach out my hand to you
and in a moment
before my next intake of breath
you've come to life and crush me in your arms
Your mouth claims mine
like never before
seeking more
your tongue explores
demanding, commanding
it takes what it will
You pull me in to you 
Your hand in my hair,
my breath is raptured by your sheer strength
Your mouth travels along my neck
Hungry….like a famished animal finally set free to feast
You devour as you reach my cleavage 
I lean back to let you savor my breasts
For the first time
to taste 
You’re down on your knees
your tongue encircling my navel
going round and round and dipping inside
This prophetic dance of what is to come
washes over me
as you lower me to the ground
In a moment, I’m looking at the stars
The two brightest ones being your eyes
You are above me
You are everywhere
Kissing tasting touching feeling pleasing
Finding my voice, I pant...
“Don't...be gentle
not...now!"
I’m gasping with the effort
of all I need to say...
of the weight of feelings...
raging within me
"Don't...hold back anymore
Take me...
Take me...now."

Your hands reach for mine and pin them down
My breasts heave, my body rocks
as I feel you plunging into the moistness 
that your very presence always creates in me
But never...to this luxuriant degree
Pain mixes with pleasure again and again
As I hear your grunt and groan
Your ecstasy comes in manish moan
And I close my eyes to the Roman night sky

I sigh
I die
To the world
I am reborn in you
I hear your victory cry
And feel your jubilant release inside

Part VI

They fought for life
We fought for love
My fingers run through your hair
Your head is pillowed on my breast
My heart beat a reminder
Of what you have won
A gladiator’s reward...

LIFE
found
in the arms
of the woman
you
LOVE


For Justin Bordner’s Contest
Make Love to Me in that Ancient Place
November 16, 2014



Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2014


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LIQUID HEAVEN

Liquid Heaven

A feast for my womanly inner beast!       
I tease, I please, you have me on my knees
I wring my hands, you oint my head
With your fingers locked in my hair of red
You -I call Master! 
Begging for forgiveness, in a position of love
My words are bashing with one stuttering sound
Moaning & Moaning, 
As you make my head spin like a merry-go-round
Craving for you to unleash a liquid heaven sound

My body speaks and mumbles a language meant for you
A touch of intimacy, that lathers up like liquid glue
Sticky but, yet so compelling
My tongue slips silent beloved words of joy into the air
You play the master of this dark solid room
This dungeon's all I consume
You engage me, to provoke you with everything I got
Yelling, please master don't ever stop!
At this moment, I yearn for excitement
To feel the arousing sensation of your presence
That melts me and chill me with a flow that does not kill
I'm your thinker
Your muse and poet
You are my composer creating liquid tunes
Come here and expresses the hardness of your boldness

I confess to you my love
You are all I'm dreaming of
You drive your hands all over 
Reaching every steamy spot
Encourage me to stimulate your mental needs
You are the master withholding a liquid element
In me, you release fluids that hit like a silent tide
A desire that comes with a full force of the fire inside
I crave for the taste of your lips
Your hands on my hips
Your fingers with a tight sensual grip
I dedicate my heart and my lust
To get lost within every push of your trust
Like a treasure deep underneath the sand
I'm addicted to the feelings of your command
Your hazel eyes are the sunrise
You bring out the obsession,
And my sweet tooth temptation
Like the moon above a misty night
Seducing me in every way in a poetic write
YOU, MY LOVE!!!
Your liquid heaven is the beginning-
-Of my delicious delight!

          by: PD

**A sweet Dedication To My Babe**


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2011


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LIBERTY OF EXPRESSION is HERE

Why I am here in Poetrysoup?

I like a seed carelessly thrown 
upon dirty solid black, brown rocks,
I strive, thrived to grow 
despite big rough blocks..

words... phrases... sentences...
They are screaming to be released
or climbing to burst in climax seize
or if not drifting upon crinkled seas

but how can I? 
When will I?
If within
minute by minute
salty prints roll down my cheeks
caused by bitter-lava  of emotions.

Heart is in state of stroke:
my mouth now mute
my lips lethargic to speak
yet my fingers found the head of a captain:

  wandering, wandering
  'til a shoreline glistens
  in the name of hope

Pressed. Pushed, 
I puddle anew the currents,
nothing but my desire to share;
to live, to be happy, to be healed,
to pour safely  fears, frustrations;
trials, dreams that I always pray.

Stabbed from behind,
bang and troubled by shark sharp words,
the powerhouse I built 
slowly, slowly fell to short.

Curiosity ignited my interest,
I attempt to pass a five stanza rhyme verse
eyes shut, ears closed to comments.
Not long, 
sleeping poems from my head popped,
they escaped

  teasing and tickling,
  unafraid, I bite every challenge
  swimming, soaking, diving deep.

Seven months until I taste glory
excitement crawl and peak
nervous yet I...

   I clamor to learn,
   I clamor to move on,
   I clamor to sing,
   I clamor to run,
   I clamor to fly,
   I clamor to soar

from the bluest ocean to darkest clouds,
from lair of lilacs to fruitless air,
from reality to ecstatic speech of fantasy
with pinching memories of past rejections, lost love 

   I hide behind the mask of metaphors
   I tease torrid with personification, 
   I sassy seduce using alliteration
   I heighten arousal with my pose, my muse
   I recite in my own right the rhymes of my soul

Ring! Ring! Ring
allow my poetry  be the bells
clanging blues echoing hues containing feelings.
Permit the tinkles permeate, 
impregnate your thoughts.
Freedom of expression, 
this you and I yearn.

Here in Poetrysoup liberty, I did earn!

Supporters, friends, challengers, lover I gained
yet these I never ask. I never expect.
They landed softly to my open palms,
I accepted. I treasure them.

Finally, my congested suffering heart 
today, beats systematically:

   gratitude, I can only inhale
   smile, I can only show
   prayers, I can only blow...

I know, 
respect, peace and order we all want.
Your verses and so is mine will be of powder rust, dust
but am humbled to be connected.
Pages I will leave here are my immortalized sentiments,
I do believe not all may agree because...
   
   Each one is unique
   Each one has a style
________________________________________________________
8:21 pm, December 26, 2015





Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo - Fraser | Year Posted 2015


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kaleidoscope

through a tiny lens
held firmly with hands
eyes gaze in awe..

with a simple twist
colours explode harmoniously
bright, sparkling,blinding..

the colours are stunning
so vivid, so alive
with truth as in life..

this ever changing vision
is but broken glass shards
not whole, not complete..

simple, plain, tiny pieces
they don't fit, they don't belong
different shades, different sizes..

fragmented, swirling on command
no direction,they stop; at one's touch
and through this seemingly disconnect..

therin lies their beauty
for these tiny glistening pieces
imperfect jewel tone shades, dance; together..

revealing the essence of life,
humanity and all who breathe
for they gloriously join; naturally..

to inspire joy, excitement, wonderment
the green piece could be a used wine bottle
tiny violet piece from a castaway vase..

regardless of their origin
these magnificant, illuminating pieces
unite as one and magically dance..

with truth as in life
beauty is as beauty does
fusing together, naturally, effortlessly..

kaleidoscope..

broken shards now glistening jewels
the spirit of every man, woman and child
is part of this most magical creation..

for every size, shape and gorgeous hue
is us; in every race, age & size
coming together, to create, to inspire..

tunnel vision seamlessly vanishes
as eyes are opened; captivated
at the wonderment, joy and harmony of..

becoming one; beautifully and with faith..

kaleidoscope.


Copyright © Lynn Marie | Year Posted 2006


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Beauty and the Beast

~Chasing Bigfoot~

Across the Bayou Waters
Into vast trails of wilderness
I follow a sound, a sullen scent  
---footprints

He was out there,
hairy large and in charge

Drugs under the beastly moonlight 
Heavy torrents swept me in 
Deep, down and dark
Under a hidden den
Between the moon and stars
I gaze into a world unknown
A comparison of salt water and bonnets
Lord of the forest deep
Entrapped in a romantic secret sonnet

Over the corner in every shadow
Red Auburn hair, above a 12 foot pair
Daring to face the lone gallows
In one peek
I observe it was not made by men
The fear became excitement 
It offered a moment to think 
I don't know if it wants to injure me
It sniffs me repeatedly, 
Smearing my skin with his nose 
This type of behavior, this smell
Began to arouse my rose

Rough nails grip around my neck
Forest flavored lips 
Unravelling a taste unhuman
The touch erupts and fills me with fear
Still, I long to linger near

Sunrise starts with a grin
Revolving around the mood
Upon his long coat of shrooms 
Without fear I stroke his thick fur
Rough and sweet I repeat
Living or dying, I stay
To love the fear-driven inside

Day after day
Deep and gray, life fades
Then becomes elusive
11 years the sun hides
Dark eyes, hold me all night
This wild man, by the bedside
Cries from the woods before sunset
I follow----

Somewhere behind hidden walls
The woods stand tall 
Flowers welt from this burning love
My heart owned by the sasquatch
Though rapid dreams and streams, 
I scream
Of Big Foot and I

By: PD


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015


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Lottery Winner helps Homeless

 
 As I walked into the banquet hall of the 
 Goodman’s Inn, the first thing that stood
 out to me were the eyes of the people. I
 felt as though I could actually see hope. Eyes 
 seemed to sparkle and everyone in the hall
 sat talking to the others sitting around them
 as they waited for the main course of the evening. 
 To understand this report we need to go back just 
 over a year ago when Lindsey Long won the 50 
 million dollar lottery. Apparently the multimillionaire 
 booked the Goodman’s Inn for December 24th through 
 to January 2nd of this year solely to house the homeless 
 over the Christmas holidays. Miss Long walked through 
 the streets herself over the last week inviting the 
 unfortunate homeless to come to the motel for these      
 festivities. Lindsey Long has not only provided the rooms 
 for this week, she also has clothed them with new 
 wardrobes and warm winter clothing and accessories.
 Now as the people sat around the table they were
 told Miss Long had an announcement. We all waited 
 to hear what this amazing lady had to say
 and excitement filled the room. When this 
 beautiful young woman began to talk there
 wasn’t one dry eye in the building. She told them 
 how she was not going to just send them back
 on the street next week but how she had
 built a new centre that would have sleeping
 facilities and showers to accommodate all
 of them. This new facility will be serving 
 three meals a day which will be prepared solely 
 from themselves on a voluntary bases. 
 The feeling in the Inn that night was pure joy
 and as the people realized the impact of this
 wonderful news, they all broke out singing
 It Came Upon a Midnight Clear. This is 
 Rhonda Reeds reporting for 
 The Good Newspaper.
 Merry Christmas everyone.

Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
11.12.2014
Sponsor Mystic Rose
The Good Newspaper 
1st


Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014


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Hopeful

Time to go home there’s that cursed bell Excitement for most - for him an impending hell A torturous journey - that takes him down life’s dark path His old friend ‘Panic’ enters causes a disturbing wrath ‘Humming the blues - got to choose - life or pain - pay the dues Got to cruise - feel the screws - no one cares if I win or lose The bell has rung - I walk among - a beast that preys - on the young With a tangled tongue - a sad song sung - the noose has strung’ Before the hyper ventilating starts - he must leave Can’t show them his cowardice - he does believe His projected fear - needs to be kept well hidden He’s part of the pack - so he knows it’s forbidden ‘The lone wolf cries - no more alibis - got to face the lies Hide the guise - cut the ties - frowning fear will hypnotise Swallow the pain - drain the brain - I sustain the strain My words detain - a recluse constrain - in a demons domain’ He hangs with the cool guys - they chose with care His muscles and strength - but he’s starting to despair This game they play - does not appeal like it did Preying on the weak and frail - his emotions he hid ‘Pressure from peers - hiding the tears - trying to switch gears Pride appears - with fermenting fears - yielding my youthful years I’m part of a clan - almost a man - fighting in streets without a plan No more a fan - go back to where I began - Hi my name is Stan’ To gain recognition - he accepted their invite Felt flattered at first- when they praised his fight Deception but a foolish game that he played well Stand up to them he must - to escape this Hell ‘Fists of fury - I’m now judge and jury - no more in a hurry It’s my new story, no more to worry, get rid of the bully No more in shame, myself to blame, time to put out the flame Not playing this game, so I can reclaim my original domain’ He’s hardly recognisable now - this boy called Stan He’s a boy with a purpose - and a very real plan The future for him - to bring bullies to their knees To clear his conscience and his sad past to release
Acknowledgement: My heartfelt thanks to Winged Warrior for collaborating with me on this important poem which highlights bullying and cyber bullying - major risk factors for teen suicide. Both the bullies and their victims are at risk according to a report from the American Academy of Pediatrics.' Music video by Bars and Melody performing Hopeful. (C) 2014 Simco Limited - Published on Jul 7, 2014


Copyright © Maria Williams | Year Posted 2017


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A Goodbye Kiss

Amber streaks brush across the horizon
holding still a little part of me in a perfect memory
a crisp morning breeze caressing weathered lips
begging for one more goodbye kiss
behind closed lids I can clearly see
those honey dipped eyes
staring right back at me
at the man you hoped I'd be
begging for one more goodbye kiss
you fighting your way back 
to hold the secrets
keeping these cobblestones in place
time slowly takes it toll as autumn rolls into town
the daylight wanes along with the excitement
hanging on along with the yellow painted leaves
waiting for one final caressing breeze
one last chance to see
and one long lasting goodbye kiss


 










Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2016


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October Rain

 
Is it simply a case of precipitation, moist warm air condensation or are they God’s tears showering us with love, as rain washes away our sorrows, in the hope of brighter tomorrows. Gloomy grey skies conceal a shy sun with murky dull clouds lingering. A cornucopia of soggy brown leaves slither and slide under our feet. A plethora of rain drops fall capriciously with no concern for those they disturb. Ladies shelter under umbrellas appearing morose, whilst school children splatter in puddles, laughing and giggling in sheer delight. The rain is never cold when one is young. Pollutant auto mobiles drive by monotonously their passengers are safe as windscreen wipers clear their way. Stores are lit with commercialised displays as the air fills with excitement for fun that awaits. In hope the October rain does not dampen their spirits. Squirrels gather up supplies ready to hibernate. High above birds fly south for warmer temperatures. A fragile old leaf falls upon me through the blustery wind, leading to a philosophical thought about turning over a new leaf. Lost within the season of change and contemplation, one thing will never change though – the October rain. The Silent One originally written 29 October 2015 re-posted 18 October 2017


Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2017


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FALLING FROM THE HEIGHTS

FALLING FROM THE HEIGHTS Who knew the road would fill with gravel’s pain? My feet, sore bare, beneath the calloused peat. The sun beat hard, no friend the serpent’s bane. Fate’s sweat does drip, with chains, the dark complete. The street does twist and wretch, the cliffs enormous. The vertiginous heights of panic feeze. Unpaid regret, ill storm felt ginormous. Unholiness does creep upon my knees. Good pleasure pled, my youth to harken please, whilst time did serve the stench of gargoyled feet. And greening eyes would steal the gold, and seize the king’s pure daughter, then his regal seat. The plummet ferocious does tear my skin. The dirgelike wind does moan and fleece my sin. 3/8/2018
bane - woe, curse, destruction feeze - a state of alarm or excitement


Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2018


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Images of feathers

"Once upon a midnight Poe"

Underneath the midnight mask, I remove the makeup at last,
The moon is anvil to my mood, mooring along the vacant vast 
I lay the Gin and Tonic by the bedside asking for more,
I hear a noise, a lost voice, the echoes of no rejoice,
I couldn't brush the light coming from the cracks under the door
I gave it some thought, 
My eyes twinkle, towards the tinsel tiles on the floor
Seemingly the light seemed to be deeming distance of resistance
Curiosity came in crawling and caressing 
To sense and taste of sinful skin 
Everything then grew thinner than thin
On the spur of the moment, I hear a whisper, my love is near
"Darkness there, and nothing more."

A nerve impulse hits the wall if nothing nary, nevertheless 
I sadistically, stagger a sullen movement, even so
In this moment, Edgar Whispered, "nothing more."
Many nights, I dram of demonic demons, demanding answers for
A sad --sadder voice, sits and whines, with the wind
"Merely this and nothing more!"
A notary, nauseate moment, sea sick, shipwreck sensation
Secular suicide spreading like gossip, sailing through my veins
Evilly and twisted, "This it is and nothing more" - that remains

Tweaking and repeating, the speeding of needing
My drugs of pain and passion, to end the delusion
Of the self-inflicted - bruising from the voices of my choices
I hear the whisper, a selfish whisper, asking for Lenore
How many nights, he comes into my room, dress like A Raven
Painted and tainted like the midnight dreary
Reciting the excitement like The Bells, of Annabel, in a rush
Never, never, nameless here forevermore, in my dreams
Under my evil doing skin, like the sum of sin is how it seems

On the nights, my soul mate does not appear, 
The anchor drowns and torments me with tears
I travel up in fear, of the fear, when my ghost is not near
Rattling and trembling, by the bedside, 
On the grim side of the mental moon, when in gloom
I scrape up my room, screaming to the bleeding, 
From my heart, who needs a killing, 
From a feeding and the feeling of letting Poe, go!

By: PD
Inspired by The Raven


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014


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Not Missing Loves Beat

Not Missing Love’s Beat

Not missing love’s beat . . . .
Sails to you this golden bright morning rising so high 
Sails waving with light, joy, and such promise and hope 
One smile gasping breathless always for you my love

As you walk with me deeply into Eden’s very paradise
Dancing my heart love on that yellow brick road of dreams
Dying to be with you my love forever and ever and ever 
Dreams inside of eternal youth with my heart pounding so	

Awaiting the very day to come when I stand before you 
Down on bended knee holding your hands warmly smiling 
Kissing each and every single fingertip so exquisitely 
I shall ask you to be forever and always with me my love 

You will be my Queen with dazzling jewels of an ocean wide 
The other heartbeat echoing as two becomes one complete
Our thirst for love and passion is almost unquenchable
And my very psyche is afire with excitement when we caress

Sleeping at night my love brings me into your dream world
Where it’s me and you and you and me together floating
Through the very ether of time breathing rarefied air so
Deliciously as we’re hopelessly mesmerized in true love 

When I awaken from our nocturnal dream trance so joyously
We hold one another so lovingly and caress so warmly at once
We kiss passionately and longingly in a most sublime spirit while
Not missing love’s beat . . . . 

Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid – A Collaborated Poem,
Copyright © All Rights Reserved (December 24, 2014) 
(Free Verse)


Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2014


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Burn

What powers held me in this tortured love
Shame and excitement danced around me
Grasped by the cunning illusions, deceiving
My void self image, coercing my
Vanities until I believed the insideous lies

You robbed my soul, knowing
Your presence was sealed with death's kiss
Tossing and turning in the night
I let you back in no matter the cost

Oh, and this is good -
I pretended not to be hostage to your
Cunning facade of empty promises
Even letting you linger in the presence
Of my most cherished posessions
As they also became sick in your stench

Finally, enough denial and nearly destroyed
Still strong enough to rid myself of you
I see you for what you really are, a drag
Killer of desire, coaxing many
Also blinded by your evil

In the last hours of whatever life I have left
And the coffin is near, I'll wonder 
Why I let you hold me for so long











Copyright © Karen Anglesey | Year Posted 2013


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love

Ready waiting anticipating love coming my way
Be ready all you want it is not coming today 
LOVE

The foundation has to be in place starts with self 
Being in love with self others can see
Not vain not plain not bodybuilder pain

It’s under your bellybutton centre of self
A place of calm wisdom excitement rolled into one
Nothing bursting out of here the combination has no fear

Your attractive to so many your centre magnetic
Smiling face and eyes all shinny radiating out like a fisherman’s cast
Easy to catch what is going past your magnetic is pulling strong
 
You love yourself your body and mind soul entwined 
To truly love another soul you must be whole love self soul
    


Copyright © niall fulham | Year Posted 2017


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blessed harvest

as autumn's beauty explodes
in comforting hues of amber
summer petals become bulbous heads
in anticipation of fall's sensual splendor.

an aura of warmth and excitement
kisses our cheeks with a rosy glow,
as we softly cocoon ourselves
in a hearth of tender knowing.

evenings are lustful delicacies
as mornings burst with pleasure,
it is a time of blessed harvest
to nourish and replenish our souls.

wrapped in each other's care
we celebrate and honour
with excitement and passion
the feast of autumn's beauty.

we joyously give in completely
to the magic of autumn's scent
as fiery embers dance with us
to wonderrous heights of desire.

autumn's gorgeous palette
envelops our lingering moments
as we savour, breathlessly,
the rhapsody of souls becoming one.


Copyright © Lynn Marie | Year Posted 2006


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- Angels and Snow -


       My eyes captures the most beautiful moments:
       The drops after tonight's cold breath
       Brown leaves on moist soil
       A coal-black sky with a majestic moon that
       makes shadows dancing with excitement and mystery
       Heralding thus the coming of cold and
       long  winter that is in store
       with snow covered landscape resembling
       Caring angels that the people of the whole world
       Embrace with their luminous wings!






     06.11.2014
     A-L Andresen :)
     Copyright © All Rights Reserved 


Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2014


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On Halloween Night

I hear the October winds whispering and I think it knows,
as the witching hour arrives and a harvest moon glows,
only once a year, do we celebrate death on Halloween night,
it is a time for remembrance, and not a time for fright.

As dead leaves come to life, once more, somehow they know,
on the twisted claw-like branches, I see the excitement grow,
black bats take their flight and wise owls call out to you,
it seems strange, but I imagine that they all know, too.

I ask you now, my dearly departed ancestors, to arise,
come and dance with me, there is no need for disguise,
on this one dark, Halloween night, it is the only time,
when we can feel truly alive and so morbidly sublime.

Let me wipe away the ancient moss from your tombstone,
come forth with dust and decay, your shroud and bone,
feel the warm glow from this carved out jack o' lantern,
and watch his lit, grinning soul, may it flicker and burn.

You must still remember the candy corn's sweet flavor,
and those crisp apples, with juicy bite after bite to savor,
it is only on this night when we can taste this rare treat,
and it is only on this Halloween night when we can meet.

Tonight will not be your usual haunting among the graves,
or beneath the dead willow tree, weeping, shackled like slaves,
you are free to wander, to celebrate, and honor our past,
until the morning sun rises, on this Eve that will not last.

So come with me now and our spirits will live once more,
as we roam down our old streets, and visit door to door,
let us go, and lead them all in our mysterious nighttime parade,
where we can finally be ourselves, no need for a masquerade.




Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014


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My Poetry Friends

I carry our friendship in my mind
And like a “Welcome Home” banner
It warms my heart. 
When I see flowers in bloom
I think of your poetry;
How your words paint such colorful, 
Vivid tapestries.
Even on the greyest of days
They brighten my world,
Shed light on my emotions,
Lift my spirits, and give comfort to my soul.
We are kindred spirits in our love of nature,
The gift of children and the wonder of the
Animal kingdom, how it nurtures us in love,
Inspires us to want to share through
Poetry the beauty of this planet.
When you write of waterfalls
I feel the cool mist on my face.
When you write of trees
I see their lovely trunks and limbs
And how closely they resemble people.
When you write about the wayward wind
An awesome chill cloaks my body.
As you relate the power of the moon
I feel her tug at my emotions and
Her authority as she reigns over the seas.
The contrast of serenity and excitement
Abound when you speak of the sparkling 
Stars, their soft glow or burst of beauty as they 
Burn a bright light through a cobalt sky.
Tears of joy stream down my smiling face
As you describe the sunrise and sunset
In a rainbow of hues from silver to scarlet.
It leaves me breathless in awed elation.
Each season offers a new delight in what you write
And our friendship grows deeper and more
Meaningful with each creation.
When you write of love, I feel loved.
You are a blessing and a joy in my life.
I carry our friendship in my mind.

© 2011 Connie Marcum Wong


Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2011


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An Outback Christmas


Excitement filled the bushland as December was near
Every creature had been waiting for Christmas time - all year.
Wallabies hung their stockings on a  gumtree branch with care
Just as all nice children do – everywhere.

Meanwhile those more up to date logged on the internet
sending E mails to Santa to see what they could get
 Koalas draped high treetops with shiny garlands green 
 And furry possums lined their dens in golden glitter sheen

Wallabies joined in with bright balloons hung on their tails
All the crows tied streamers, cascading from the rails.
Kookaburras’ laughter changed to Christmas songs
While magpies and peewees piped along in throngs.

A wombat and a bandicoot made honeysuckle punch
The parrots came too early and drank’ til they got drunk
And when the’ Magic Pudding’ came to help with Christmas Dinner
His taste was so delicious he left a trifle thinner.

With a Kangaroo as Santa, his pouch stuffed full of cheer
hopping ‘round the outback in the hottest time of year
Just guess what all the drovers got- lots of ice-cold beer.

Suzanne Delaney


For Children's Christmas Poem Contest for Carol Eastman


Copyright © Suzanne Delaney | Year Posted 2014


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Sunbonnet


She shuffled by our house, so slow and bent,
No second thought of where the lady went.
On her return, no one around to see.
A shaded path, she blended with the trees.

We children always giggled, as she passed.
A group emboldens others to harrass.
Our high pitched jeering from a hidden niche,
The frail, sunbonnet lady, we yelled "witch".

One day a fever kept me home from class.
I saw her weary shuffle down the path.
My over-active need to know convened.
I followed with excitement and unseen.

A house engulfed by weeds grown thick and tall,
As vines of every species claimed the walls.
Around the side, a window to peek in; 
A man in bed with twisted, throbbing limbs.
.
The lady rubbed a salve to ease his pain.
And hummed a long forgotten song's refrain.

I blurted all I'd seen to mom and dad.
He stood in shocked alert and mom grew sad.

How soon the path was plowed into a drive,
A grocer truck and red-light cops arrived.
I last recall a fancy bike, brand new.
Events seem blurred, with growing up to do.
.


Gene Bourne.
07-17-14




.


Copyright © Gene Bourne | Year Posted 2014


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Survival


     We boarded the Carnival Cruise in Miami with excitement,
our destination was Montego Bay-   with a promise of great fun;
          colourful reefs, tranquil waters, breathtaking vistas and sun,
pure white beaches, music, and I was soon swinging to reggae rhythms.

     Taking a break to stroll on the promenade, I leaned over,
the railing for a view of the water below and then-  I was falling;
          the next thing I knew was that I was washed up on a beach,
I looked out to sea and there was no trace of the Carnival cruise ship.

     I said to myself, don't panic, keep calm, go find some help,
walking the beach there was no evidence of any human life here;
         this tropical island was uninhabitable, yet I heard birds calling,
and soon noticed I was being followed by a group of cute little monkeys.

     It came over me that I was stranded, marooned, isolated,
on this lost tropical island, although beautiful, I felt a great doom;
          it was then I decided to go inland and find some water to drink,
but found no spring or pond, but I saw that broad leaves held rain water.

     So right away I knew that drinking water was not a problem,
then it was getting dark and I needed to find a shelter for protection;
         that is when I noticed a natural cave entrance in a mossy hillside,
it was dark inside but seemed a perfect place for me to rest until morning.

     I fell asleep quickly and dreamt of my days as a Girl Guide,
recalling some of the survival skills-  that I had been taught once;
          the next morning I went searching for food but found nothing,
except mushrooms, red berries, and roots-   the monkeys were eating.

     I figured if they could eat it, then I could too, and so I did,
suddenly I was covered by mosquito bites, ouch, I ran into the sea;
         later that day I found a plant growing that I knew-  lemon balm,
it had a strong lemony scent and picking the leaves I used them like a wipe.

     In the days that followed I became a survivor-   with a fire,
when I fell a glass pendent came with me and I placed it in the sun;
         with twigs and leaves and soon had fire for a cooking and a signal,
I gathered leaves to use as bedding in my cave and days took on a routine.

    Each day for years I kept the signal fire burning and prayed,
a sharp branch became a spear to hunt, a shell became my knife;
         days, weeks, months, years passed-   and then time mingled,
so old, my hair white, bone weary and tired, I went to my cave forever.

________________________________
January 21, 2017

Narrative

For the contest, Tropical Island,
sponsor, Shadow Hamilton

First Place 


Copyright © Broken Wings- Dear Heart | Year Posted 2017


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My Shoes

In my shoes

Always walking in my shoes.
one step
two steps
one giant step
never the same pair
my shoes are what keep me from walking into a wall
following every sign down this echo-less hall
my shoes, come in every size, shape and color
and what's is a walk without shoes
the walk will get long, and rough
my shoes have a tie that bond with no other
you never know where they might take you

There's only one way to find out!

Enemies of mine, can't find my size.
right foot
left foot
Who are they really?
I lose a pair, I gain a pair
Who really cares!

boundaries to cross
boundaries to lead 
boundaries all around 
boundaries on each stepping sound 

Thin ice
walking on egg shells no matter the lies
dull heels upon a winter canvas sky
my size
your taste
my shoes take me there,
the excitement the knowledge nothing compares 
my shoes know the answer to every question you want to know
my shoes at times skip towards the rainbow
my shoes walk in my dreams
my shoes are every where, except right here
sleepwalking and crying Deja vu 
tired of walking in someone else's shoe
I've walked there before, I'm there now 
the mud under my shoes, tell a story
where I eat 
where I sleep
the dirt on the top, are swept when I weep.
they eat just like me
all the massive energy I store
we talk and we walk
they listen, they carry me
my shoes have no mask, 
they are rugged and non-stop
sometimes my shoes get me to the top

your shoes are running 
to my comfort zone
your shoe, my shoe have a heart beat
your shoes, my shoes ever so sweet.
your shoes are  like my shoes
just different feet

Your shoes, are not my shoes
they fit me real small 
when it comes to my shoes
Why wear them at all?

by;pd


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012


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Poets

I am able to move one’s spirit to the pinnacle of joy or drive it to depths of despair.
Not a chore to evoke passionate emotion--convey love, hate, life, and death.
Within those four small words lies our meek human existence all told.
To omnipresent Alpha and Omega, of what core lies between?
Now I sit with pen in hand to ponder many words of wit.
Gift to paint, not I, yet may cast an image to mind.
Bright lavender fields coax the amorous duo
to mingle with its deep, heady scent.
Amidst wet sewage soaked dirt
a filthy small child lays
weeping for mother
a bloody heap
close by.
See?
My!
The glee
holding words
Make them express.
Giving wide literate detail.
Understand to hold a soft heart.
Else never will you touch one’s soul.
So this is merely the lone reason I compose.
Excitement and warm sympathy and fiery passion,
within many a sorrow and tears and friendly persuasion,
in absolute care I do write and lay my psyche upon each page,
then wonder at length the primary purpose of such artistic endeavors.
Who among the world’s populace might gain an insight from what I scribe?
Does this really matter at all; since rarely, if ever, is it what one says… but how.


Copyright © Michael Santner | Year Posted 2005


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Take Me To Your Heart

I am a captive in your sensitive and sensuous heart,
a palace of poetic and fragrant seductions
that slips veils of sexy silken secrets along my spirit's skin
and I desperately follow your sweating soul into the wilderness
that surrounds your fertile femininity, 
we kiss in moments of heightened exhalations
and then we run and play further, to the edges of your paradise
discovering together how love tortures us
and why we need it so,
feeling the bindings of love's fire
around our bodies, we demand more
give it to me tighter, hotter, faster
press this love closer to my rage and wisdom
whip me with the leather braids of love's lessons,
care for my living bruises with lips that heal
bite my masculine will
with teeth that have carved beauty out of misery,
dig your nails into the thighs of my excitement, 
hold me as I paint the wings of your heart my Love -

This poem was originally posted on New Year's Day, 2016 for the woman I love,
I hope the powers that be understand...J.A.B.


Copyright © Justin Bordner | Year Posted 2016