Best Filter Out Poems
Cottonwood snowcaps blowing in the breeze
fluffs of white flutter, filling a distant history
closed eyes filter out tiny drops of salted sea
Time, lost along with another passing season
misted moments mixed with lavender essence
dropped down in a canyon of heartfelt misery
A fervent haze rises across the baked horizon
burning deep visions of succulent lips waiting
on honey dipped words to melt frozen moments
-never forgotten
Categories:
filter out, memory,
Form:
Free verse
Whispers filter out the scent of delusion
the whippoorwills wallow in a waning sun
and thoughts are on the run
The table's set with mix-matched cups and saucers
the best China's soaking in the sink
and I can no longer think
Blame it on blunders ripping at the seams
me not knowing how to sew
I see why you had to go
Closer I get to the daunting haunts
footsteps roam the hall
waiting for your call
Kisses left along with the weekend
breaths sullenly get slower
better off for knowing her
Emptiness fills the coffers
drips from the coffee pot drop
will heartache ever stop
Pushed in past the chair headed for inequity
silenced amongst all the sorrow
on the sill still sits her flower
and in the dim light I see
her beautiful hues
shining through
Categories:
filter out, heartbreak, hope,
Form:
Rhyme
O' heart, I wonder how
you can store
so many different
emotions of ours
in just thy four puny
chambers
while pumping away the
liquid of life
O' heart in you we
discover love
but side by side you
harbour hate
In you we find the
emotion of happiness
but side by side you
harbour rage!
When you cease to beat
many plans you thwart
May God protect the
young human heart
And while some O' heart
you hold dear
some make you skip a
beat in fear!
O' heart but we find in
you as well
the bad bad emotion of
jealousy
Such a potpourri of
emotions in you dwell
Help filter out any wrong
ones for me!
A mere four chambers
indeed but spacious are
they
invite therein
whomsoever in the
world you may
But in the end forget not
to reserve
atleast a single chamber
for its Creator, to
preserve
Categories:
filter out, heart,
Form:
Ode
I have finally come to the place
Where things can come off the shelf
So I can try to learn from mistakes
And not be so hard on myself.
I no longer need to be opaque
It's time for me to see
That my failures and past mistakes
Do not label me.
No longer trusting what used to assure
Sorting out things that will last
Mistakes filter out what really endures
Permitting to learn from the past.
I know life has its ups and downs
I can't help things don't go to plan
But mistakes no longer bring "that frown"
Now that I know who I am.
Categories:
filter out, life,
Form:
Verse
In the grand days of old let the truth be told/
Those ships and mate's in plight,
With ancient fool's who had launched in an all night battle !
The one who stayed alone and quiet would lose/
A much happy time of old !
Mediocre drawn beers as an angry mob grew bolder !
For the little troll would oft' loosen his undergarments ?
Ready for a fight/
Along came a black knight !
The little troll found himself a bit helpless among the resistance,
In the distance a land far to quaint in which to behold,
Try to filter out the sorrowful resistance/
A castle promptly built for the proud and noble !
What was once thrown down into the rubble,
Yet still my heart beats a bit frantic now ?
Torn in the midst of breathless moments/
We suddenly captured a sweet glimpse of heaven,
But then to suddenly leave again !
With fallen trees of fern and elm,
Then suddenly the sword pulled out of the lasting storm !
With gentle onlooker's to approach,
A vining warrior with hidden spear inside,
Traveler's visiting from the East would often run away and hide ?
Yet what had hit me from my blind side ?
Was it the heavy notion of a wizard living inside ?
A darkened portal that had come to light !
With a famed court prince on some winged plight/
Along comes a big dragon with a focused intent,
Outside a winged servant was inclined to viscously launch out into the night/
To enlarge his welcoming with some frantic fright !
Amidst the hidden turmoil of the given plight/
With the great task in which to make all things right !
Categories:
filter out, animals, art, confusion, death,
Form:
Narrative
Questions and Answers
We are overloaded with responses
To questions we care little about:
What to buy and other nonsense--
Marketing crap without a doubt
Seems the only questions that matter
Are the ones that help you know yourself.
They're the ones with no right answer,
That one must answer for oneself.
(chorus)
What do you have worth living for?
What do you think’s worth dying for?
Does something make you greater than you are?
What down here most sets you free,
Helps you become what you want to be?
What is the dream that will take you far?
Who or what is your guiding star?
If you could filter out all the clutter,
The media makes us hear and see,
And let your mind be still like water
To ponder what it means to be.
What do you have worth living for?
What do you think’s worth dying for?
Does something make you greater than you are?
What down here most sets you free,
Helps you become what you want to be?
What is the dream that will take you far?
Who or what is your guiding star?
If think you’ve found some answers,
Please feel free to share.
If think you’ve got some answers,
Please feel free to share.
If think you know the answers,
Please feel free to share.
Categories:
filter out, angst, dream, life, meaningful,
Form:
Lyric
What is wrong with using "not"?
It is a negative to an eloquent adjective, verb or noun
Simply the opposite state of being; which one should NOT frown
For programmers, "not" is a logical complement
which helps us filter-out things we do NOT want
and is used sparsely and NOT to flaunt.
By simply twisting our thought at 180-degrees,
it's used to portray an abrupt reversal image in our mind.
A quick look at a mirror, and NOT you will find.
Affix a k-, yet "knot" still sounds the same
but it will help keep our things secure.
From our pretzels, shoes and the ribbon-wrapped gifts we procure.
Add an s-, and the children will be amused.
Defiance is in its nature, is it NOT?
That is, to disgust their friends with each others snot.
So, to be or NOT to be
Categories:
filter out, humorous, poems, words,
Form:
Rhyme
(lyric rewrite of Questions and Answers)
We’re overloaded with canned responses
To questions that we don’t care about:
Like what to buy and other nonsense--
Just marketing without a doubt
The only questions that seem to matter
Are questions that help you know yourself.
They mostly have uncertain answers,
That men must all decide for themselves.
What do you have worth living for?
What do you think’s worth dying for?
What is the dream that will take you far?
Where is your guiding star?
So filter out all the useless clutter,
The media makes us hear and see,
Then let your mind be still like water
And ponder what it means to be.
If think you’ve found some answers,
Please feel free to share.
If think you’ve got some answers,
Please feel free to share.
If think you know the answers,
Please feel free to share.
What do you have worth living for?
What do you think’s worth dying for?
What is the dream that will take you far?
Where is your guiding star?
Categories:
filter out, life, meaningful, song, truth,
Form:
Lyric
With every step you`ve taught me, this is my elaboration...
The motherly love, unique to all individuals
however, some not as fortunate as others.
Some born with silver spoons, to extreme empty rice bowls
love that portrays from your own, i do have a jewel.
A family of six, working the majority of her life,2 jobs
She being in her 74th year, active driving her car.
The thoughtfulness, caring for others, her nature that is
her everyday commodity, asking nothing in return.
Her humour, personality eclipses her wide knowledge wisdom, understanding.
Her home cooking, like when were kids delicious as
her Sunday roast, still serving them today
i can`t tell you the extent of gratitude, but you know i love you.
Now 14 years since this was penned, much change has evolved,
your age health taken you down a path of decline.
My pathway of Jesus the new Messiah, making a new identity
and spiritually intertwining, i filter out the dross, bringing you into MINE.
I spoke and told you before, " AS IT WAS WITH MARY , SO SHALL IT BE WITH YOU." You don`t understand. Mary gave birth to Jesus, also did YOU.
To be born into sin, this time around, to be born again, and go through
sheer Hell and filter out the evil for my Fathers purpose to...
Be took to Heaven and transformed into a new man new purposes new desires
to untangle and put straight the confusion and straighten cross wires.
For spiritual awakening enhancements authority to make changes in you
to kick out the devil and for you to SEE what is TRUE.
To restore to erase and replace, the hurts the pains the shame lies and guilt
for heaven and the results of the cross inside me is built.
As i spiritually destroy the works of Satan, the pains are so immense.
I know that you`re suffering as equal, to go through evil no man has suffered, so you are suffering too, to reach the other side of the fence.
Its all for LOVE, your rewards are heaped in heaven without measure
the pains today are being transferred to Heavenly treasure.
AS IT WAS WITH MARY SO SHALL IT BE WITH YOU , ROYALTY.
With much love from your son Jesus Paul xx
Written 2011 updated 2025
Paul Beadnall for:
Sponsor ~ ~
Contest Name Any Mother Poem*(Originally Give a Kiss Mommy)
Categories:
filter out, mother,
Form:
Free verse
Historiography is no job for the coward.
if you are doubtful, locomate to the “cow ward”.
Summon Ibn Bantuta, Jan vansina, Samuel Johnson and Cicero ,
they all know history is made in every scenario.
“What is history” , written and tailored by E.H Carr.
Written tradition will help for I intend to carve.
Great historians filter out myth and fables,
but illusions,monocausal explanations ,and lack of chronology still on their table.
Written sources is our Cinderella,
But in trail, historians is our helper,
cos they will shelter our history for the better,
And also help them out of their obscurity coma.
History will be kind to me for I intend to wright it.
Walter Rodney, Marx, Al-Tabari and other great historians like me are all at it.
Hit at it, achieve it and breath,
cos written history brings us out of the heat.
“Not knowing what took place before you were born is to remain forever child” … says Cicero.
Get matured, grow, flow and know,
as you lay your head on your pillow.
history is an unending dialogue between the past and the present, hope you know.
Sammy Kyle the historian , the poet, oh yes! i am.
Will not stop learning as I need no ladder to climb a can.
Historians are radicals they say, we brag! oh! yes we are
And for ever will I ride on because there is a reason behind the name kyle.
Sammy Kyle
Categories:
filter out, class, cool, history, humor,
Form:
Free verse
The walk that my feet have traveled
The walk that my feet have traveled
The heart that my love has had…
Blankets on beaches, bare feet in the sand
And the ocean so subtle even as I can see the waves coming
The joy that I’ve felt
The wisdom I’ve found
Like a key- finally opening up a door
The lessons always seem to make my love lighter.
The life that’s explored even in dark times,
Makes the sunshine symbolize the hope in all circumstances
The nails that try to cut my hands and feet go away leaving scares
But the toughness of resilience only leaves greater determination
And stronger armor
The darkness is a fake tale that only can grow in doubt and fear
But when the light comes on it all disappears
And shows its true nature… of a small spec
Fragmentation of imagination build up on the sand
Faith restores me slowly as I open up room for it- I give it glory
My eyes show my soul
When I filter out the corrosion and death of present or past
And at last the walk is just that much more tolerable
To wake and smell the clearness,
To feel the peace, to hope and look up once more.
And just smile because it comes naturally
Now…
As my feet continue to walk.
Categories:
filter out, blessing, devotion,
Form:
ABC
With a desk, a cluttered room
Through cracks in shutters I catch the moon
Whirl my tangible face once around the threshold
(Maybe my focus can be found).
What is this I grapple with?
Desire? Or hope?
Perhaps the thought that imprisoned I might choke,
That the dust I lick from a crevice or a floored shirt
Might poison this feeble mind beyond the brink.
Ahh tell me what this is!
By day I sleep till I hear the voices
Those impalpable whispers
Emerging like a wind from uncertain distances
What creature do they speak of?
I cannot appear
With fright I ponder
Would they shut as I bend an ear?
So longer I remain
Inside a clod of splintered fear
For could I spin the brutal revolver
And rasp down the side of a phone
"Hello, there's a caf? not far from here."
I?denote? I proclaim?
For I have picked a hundred reeds
And scratched a hundred incantations
I who stretched across the plain
With arid hopes and dried temptation.
I who scrawled upon your name
Recalculated recalculations
To count each card
To time the spin
To watch the table
And dwell on 'begin'
Even then I doubt
Doubt is like a father
You, who I dream of
I perceive voice and smile
But I doubt you should smile with me.
And in age I ponder on another thought
What would have happened?
What could I change?
Had I clung to some notable face
Drawn it as a mask for some loneliness,
Some shame;
To live long in dependence,
Empty hobbies and deafness?
To filter out from the last acquaintance of youth
And sit bitter at opposite ends?
With no quiver I think not to stir
To the infinite decision:
At what point is life not worth the effort
Of living?
I wrote this for a competition, then realising there was a limited on the lines, but I thought I'd upload it anyway, even if not entering the competition, didn't really want to shorten it. Would be typical me to write a poem for a competition before fully checking the requirements.
Categories:
filter out, age, courage, desire, fear,
Form:
Blank verse
To You from Nighttime Skies
Soft and slow the evening breeze
Does filter out the day
Silently it sways the trees
In perfect night display
A clouded veil does wrap the sky
In grayish darkened hues
This curtain’s dreary night disguise
Does not disturb the views
As raindrops ride the atmosphere
To wet the ground below
Shadows form and disappear
Retreating as they go
Overcast a watchmen sent
His eyes to guard this eve
Still the dream shall come to pass
If only you believe
Dark of night and storms that brew
Will not deny this place
The grandness of its endless charm
Shall find your loving face
For in this vast expanse does grow
An everlasting love
To shower down on those who know
So softly from above
For if you look your eyes may meet
A joyful sweet surprise
You’ll see it is my love I send
To you from nighttime skies
Good Night Soupers
Categories:
filter out, love, night,
Form:
Rhyme
By Laura Dee Battle
January 3, 2015
Match these lights to forgotten memories
Make the sea so carefully calm and hum along
The silence makes me itch away the misery
Be still, my dear, and speak the words you know are wrong
Don't think too much about the truth
It's been refracted in your looking glass
Can't you feel the deceiving voices from our youth?
Pass the trees and merrily decay the lessons you learned in class
School can't give you ways to finally be free
Under duress I stress your shining rebel soul
Make it loud enough to drown out your crystal clarity
Sleep tonight my dear, so we can find the morning light it stole
Come hide away with me in dreams you cannot see
But I can take you there where people never stare
In the place where we filter out the rapture of our memories
Survive the moment and live a single day free of despair
Tonight, tonight...
Categories:
filter out, addiction, for him, love,
Form:
Rhyme
I am a differeent incarnation of a poet who garnered a lot of praise for writing a poem on a
subject matter a lot people thought of consequence, as do I. So if you took my advice and
showed my other poem to your children, cool, and now let them read about how to do what
brought six of my friends down in eight years…..I’m telling you dudes the s**t is deadly…..so
Little Johnnie or Tommy:
THINK ABOUT THE POOR MINK
Those are the breaks
For making mistakes
That’s how it goes
When weeds slay a rose
Look you all
because I’ve got something you probably don’t care to hear
But I have vehement verbiage I want to voice
I want to tell you people that I’ve been places that scare even Satan
Imagine that,
The father of fear
Making hs own fear clear
I’ve used items you all think are totally benign
A baby’s pacifier, an eye dropper, a medical needle , and a thin strip of paper from money
If anyone had any dollar bills left
…………because the end of the eyedropper is a bit too thin to hold the needle without what we
called a “collar”
It was more like a noose
That which we called a “collar” made to bring us relief
Oh, and this I never knew back then,
but a lot of shirts come with cotton on the back of a button.
So if we didn’t have cotton to filter out the particles that may clog your needle we’d use the
back of a button, a cigarette filter or invent something with junkie ingenuity.
And then you need a hairpin and a bottle top from a soda
And you use the hairpin as a handle for the little frying pan you cook the dope up in
I’ve seen people shooting dope in bodily areas you may not believe
Because either he or she had no viable veins they could find
So they shoot it in incredible places such as under their eyeball
Between their toes
All in an effort to make certain nobody knows
The genital area is excellent but mostly for a dude
Chicks don’t have as many places, and much thinner veins
Categories:
filter out, peoplepeople, may, people, places,
Form:
Narrative