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Best Free Verse Poems | Poetry

Below are the all-time best Free Verse poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of free verse poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Free Verse Poems

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

Dads by Mills , Susannah
A Bird's Journey by Young, Emily
A Vision by Evans, C
Means Everything by Evans, C
Whats The Point by Evans, C
Passing By by Ryder, Lisle
I watch you sail away by Krampe, Agnes
The Cue, Clue and Glue of Mathematics by sensele, john
DUSTY GLORY DAYS by Gauthier, Line
Godwinks by Mills , Susannah

View all new Free Verse Poems

The Best Free Verse Poems

Details | Free Verse Poem |

Like A Girl

Listen to poem:

Like A Girl 

I play like a girl, I hit like a girl
You say I throw like a girl, 
And, when I run -- I run like a girl!
All that plus more, enjoy this one size fits all

Who and what I want comes from being strong 
Classy and fabulous, 
THIS is my song!

I've been told, cut to size
The world dark and gray, when life becomes an insult
Take heed when I speak my mind, 
I am tough, outstanding and beautiful!

Move ahead --- say it twice, I smell nice
A taste of Cool Water and Justice Perfume
I have a non-stop multitask fixation
Like a woman, everything about me is hidden 
Magic and alluring the only joy in sexuality you'll need

I'm empowering this moment!
Endorsing Myself, with a certain sorta mystique
I deliver an independent will, 
     don't ever underestimate my physique

I am a caregiver, a female who won't give up the fight
I remain firm and believe all women have equal rights
I walk and talk Like A girl 
    wearing heels Breaking the sound of Annabel

       Like, Mona's unforgettable smile, 
       I stand tall Like Miss Liberty
       I am, Betsy Ross, America's #1 designer
            Harriet, who escaped slaver-y 
       Like Theresa and Mary, I'm here to give change
       I am, Hilary overwhelmed with determination
       A leader -- A Goddess, I burn like Joan
       ---Cleopatra in the room
       ---Calamity Jane's wild side
       Emelia's, won't give up heart
       I am Anne, with a secret hidden spot
       Susan B, with the right to vote
       Emily who writes deep and pretty

The sound In your eyes aren't listening!
You imagine I am weak -- not strong enough -- brave enough, 
You call me different and difficult!
Still, you want my warmth -- my love -- my attention

I am not less, I am more
I am a woman -- I frown -- I cry -- I hurt and yell at the universe
Nevertheless, I make a difference
Like a girl, I smile
A smile never seen or felt before, both defined and undefined
Your heart will ask and implore for more

Like a girl, I'll drive you wild, looking pretty "You're In Love!"
My Self confidence comes from who I am deep inside
Everything I've become follows the makeup on my face
Bare and nude, I am the Madonna flowering the mood

At the end of every day, I have one other thing to say
The Next Time You ask me to cook and clean
Because you think, I belong in the kitchen
You better believe I'm doing it my way
LIKE A GIRL

Details | Free Verse Poem |

Broken People

I wish to be with the broken people
the get in your face challenge me people
The sometimes hidden
sitting in a dark corner kinda people
The don't you love me
I wish you seen me sorta people
People just being real people
not having to have it all together people
Them doing their best to figure it out people
dancing and singing without the smooth moves people

I don't care about the color of their skin
or what others think of as their sin
They don't need to be perfect to win
seeing and listening is where I'll begin
Beyond appearance of fat or thin
I only know what I know
I've never been where they've been.

We'll start 
with our broken smiles
It's the best we've got
It might seem like so little 
still I think it's a lot
Through life's struggles we've all fought
lessons needed learning
experienced not taught
real is real it couldn't be bought

So forget the fake people
the all about perfect hair and clothes people
The I live in the right neighborhood and drive the right car people
It's all about me, top of the hill people
They only hang out with the supremely cool people
those too important to talk to me people
thinking they're the best of the best kinda people
when all along they are merely Sheeple 
ba ba baaing, thinking they are strong instead of feeble

I love characters 
people who are unique
I look under exteriors to gain a peek
strength of lions disguised in meek
unconcearned with fab or being chic
Worth listening to if allowed to speak
the stories they tell will make your eyes leak

For in the end
we are all broken
stumbling and choking
Disguising hurt with our joking
victims of others and their poking
So look close maybe you'll see
eyes that aren't blank 
hearts that aren't empty
Who we think of as complicated
in the end might not be
They might push when others come close
yet they are affectionate times three
Each just a bit afraid and broken 
all the while wishing  
and wanting to be
A part of something
If only we choose to see
those on the fringes
are a part of the we
All we have to do 
is let them be!


Dedicated to our homeless population.
They teach us the unvarnished truth about ourselves.

Details | Free Verse Poem |

The Sowing

Upon the wind sheltered hillside,
the sharp tang of metal and the sting of salt air lay
over a field of blood-red poppies, no Flanders Field.

At years fall, fields of rape roll like waves,
in the harshness of winter-sleet, stray boulders bow,
like the backs of mothers, and daughters sowing.
Their nails torn, ragged, and bleeding.
They bleed by the moon, and son, upon the fields.
No white crosses mark their passing.

For hundreds of years, and crops of rape, barley and wheat,
small hands, soft hands, and soft thighs bleed.
They bleed daughters, and sons.
They birth the fields by consent or rape and in the fields 
unadorned by silver stars or purple hearts, they writhe.

Today, as May's sun wakes the blood blasted pasture,
each precious drop blooms, a heroines soul
acknowledgement, the poppies yield.

Details | Free Verse Poem |

A Cathartic Weave Of Three

Listen to poem:


listen,
the whispers
of leaves
turn colour
autumn is here.

now that you are gone
who will wake every morn
to lift the sun
unveil the sky
etch in the clouds
who will paint the rainbow?

i had a dream and in the dream i wove you a poem
i used the fiber of my character to create spools of silken thread
dipped in the juices of my passion i dyed them in the colors of my imagination
re-enforced each and every single strand with the strength of my love

touch,
the echoes
of the rain
- waters
- blossoms spring.

now that 'us' is just a word
no longer with you as one
i alone wind up metal toys
cut out paper dolls
the beach swept from under my feet
the child in me flees.

spun spools from the intricacy of my spirit
designed a pattern 
to the rhythm 
of the music 
of my inner thoughts

enamoured in your vision
crystal beads gather on my brow
as i toil your finely bred gift
as i braid every part of me
with every memory
into every sliver of fabric 

taste,
uncut
snow shapes
crisp cold
ices the wintertide.

instead now rusted
a fools gold chain of loneliness
hangs around my neck like a noose
mourns a union that once had breath
a twosome that now is dead.

see,
the sand sculptures
paint
rekindle
a childhood summer 
past.

sew in the loving glow emits my flawless dreams
with my boiling blood initial my woven piece

my work at an end i awake
you lay there a wingless angel asleep 
smiling as if you heard a bell ring
your boundless warmth embraces me

the moon no longer smiles
the stars no longer wink

smell,
seasonal airs
stimulates senses
memories they deliver.

without a touch 
barely - i kiss you.

in this 
my decade of one
hope is a wickless candle
the night just day without light

in the glee,
hopes and dreams,
in the human spirit,
lives the miracle of life.
magnificent
voices in every pitch
deep and resounding,
the melody of echoes and whispers – uncut.


Jan 4 2017
With Love
Armand

Details | Free Verse Poem |

A Long Loud Sigh

genius?
sometimes you are in its minimal spotted light...sometimes!
other times you just know you've been touched and you freeze,
moved but frozen...like a stranger it moves in, does its work and leaves.

...maybe it's been a while since you two spoke...
when the dead sea still hosted life,
the hanging gardens of babylon grew in sinc with the breath of the planet,
before the tower of pisa started to lean or mayan buildings were in ruin.

so you write words...any words...they might at least soothe your hurt
hold your heart in a protective shield.
you know how crippling unrequited love can be.
do you still dream of its hug...genius?

life and love share more than a first letter
(like the first letter you wrote under the veil of inspiration).
they also share good and evil...it's a flip of the coin.
either way is fine with you. you'd bathe in holy water or sell your soul.
life, love...passion...somewhere in there...it lives, genius.

all of nature a reflection through its transparent figure glows dark 
like the shadows live in the radiant illumination of evening rays.

so let me speak of us!
recently when i tried to hold you...
you were like a ghost in the bright of day,
a phantom out of its element...
there was nothing of you...i could embrace.
when i tried to enter you a freezing cold ran through me like a winter brook.
you exhaled me 
as if i were fog on a deserted country road invisible to absent eyes.
still you were my drug of choice.
addicted, i chased the dragon...you...genius.

memories fill me...
days when we would paint words,
stitch in a metaphor or two,
weave in music, 
write instruments to fill in the spaces,
ordain a voice.

i remember...

you wanted to taste me
i was overwhelmed 
how you put your fingers on my lips 
how you licked them...you...genius.

you were that giant pine i would climb in the dead of winter
(why do they say that "the dead of winter"? winter will die 
when hell freezes over. winter isn't death it's purgatory.)
the one with the needles that punctures human skin.

come to me again and touch me...
like the butterfly does the wind...barely but thoroughly.
(is it true that just a tiny flutter of their wings could be 
the start of a hurricane? are the icebergs melting?)
i didn't just write that out loud...did i...with you I'm shy...genius.

GENIUS?

fine!
hide.
don't show yourself.
don't speak to me.
fine!

don't bother with rising the sun today.
forget those showers you create your magic arc with,
vacuum away all the plants.
lower your wall of blue.
i'm not interested anymore in those pillowy shapes i use to love so.

i've always known it is fire that cleanses, water that burns,
it is the moon that breaks the heart,
the stars that slaps the face...with...i don't know...reality.
i've always known by the time we see a star...
in real time...it's already extinguished...already dead.

it is our friends that will use us...our heroes that will lie to our face...
our blood will betray our trust...our teachers will fail us...
our leaders treat us like just another job...
the devout that will exhibit hatred.

still i believe. no matter what else...the rose will always survive.
the petals deceiving. they will repel all that is unholy.
grab it by the neck and squeeze out its black ooze,
leaving a gentle soul there to admire its adversary.
don't even get me started on the orchid
or even the flowers all...alphabetically.

i dare confront the beauty of nature's art unframed...
canvas loose to admire...genius!

i miss you but i am out of tears.
do drop in though. 
i can offer you a cup of dry warmth...
soothing like burning logs that crackle with laughter.

or 

take you to my secret place.
behind the camouflage of forests dense,
where vines grow through spiral staircases 
made of turtle shells and dressed in discarded snake skins.
green is the theme there. it is everywhere,
unabridged, unabated, unaffected, undisturbed 
with a fuming, burning, yearning to be touched.
so let's...let's grab...hold...squeeze..
feel free from the cheap paradigm offered.

i don't think you know, even while you sleep, i hold your hand, genius.

dream a full rainbow on a fingernail moon night,
feel february twenty ninth its absolute might,
taste fully the slight of a pheasant in flight,
yearn eternal life, wish a vampire's bite,
concoct rhymes nicely fluffed with built in sight.

genius?
on this sombre morning the sun is blinding.
damn my eyes.
there is a negative entity drapes our children's world.
shame on us...shame on you...i need you.
i am reduced to an objective observer.
life glides on the little wings of its carrier,
its final resting point in the hands of the wind.
another life carried away on a worker bee,
busy stealing nectar from a succulent bud.
a stowaway hangs on for dear life to the flyers leg.
gets off at the next flower.
meets up with a companion to create a new life.

genius?,
everything changed when I met you.
was the sun rising or the mountain sinking.
was that an orange globe against a blue sky
or a lit round hole in a sad wisp of air.

i'll play a keyless piano if you'll paint me a horizon I can reach.
i'll sing you a ballad with a single note...

i walked into my life without consideration.
maybe crawled.
all the same...
when do I get a choice.
when will they stop holding death over my head.

if i could direct a few more plays with you as my guide...
my art, my life! genius i long for your influence...
even one last time to see your face, 
unite and give you one last kiss...goodnight.




April 1 2015
Maurice Yvonne
Sponsor: Linda
Contest Name:A Million Dollar Poem

Details | Free Verse Poem |

Twilight Aurora

like an interrupted dream
shadows of the one who inspired it
linger like morning dew

no aroma and no taste
yet I'm left breathless
as thoughts reminisce
i listen to this tired heart
as one deep breath
results in a thousand sighs
and i don't want to be found
but yearn to understand
why i feel like a million
crumpled stars, silently
sprinkled like paint drops
protecting the moon
feeling like glue
holding the universe together
and who am I to disturb it?

her beauty a merited gift
her departure unnecessary
her lips without speaking
could rewrite history
and I wonder
can she hear these sighs?

her call is the one I want
to answer for eternity
to speak until no words remain
give until there is nothing
defeat to her submission
is life's greatest victory

twilight aurora
night flower of this heart
like a rainbow your presence
brightened the horizons
but just like the stars you
disappeared with daylight

Silent One
Simple Musings
15 July 2017

I'm back! Contrary to idle gossip and rumours, my account was not banned nor deleted. I left for personal reasons.
They say never go back, but I felt the need to return to support my friends and new poets.
I know there is some negativity on this site, but it has so much potential.
Anne Frank once said
"In spite of everything, I still believe people are really good at heart."

and I know some went to the extreme liberties of writing poem about me, but what I do not understand is the obsession with it after I left. Hide behind metaphors, I hope it makes you happy and write as much as you like, because it does not bother me, in fact it makes me laugh and I already forgive you.

We are supposed to be adults, if you have a problem, then discuss it. This is not high school. It is a poetry site, a community and one that together everyone can make a great place.

Details | Free Verse Poem |

SWITCH magazine

I am working with an off-site poetry/prose 
publishing project and would like to have you 
involved with submissions and subscription. 
If interested, contact switchpmag@gmail.com 
for details. Simply type "About Info" in your e-mail 
subject field (for initial contact, info within the body 
of the e-mail is not required, though the magazine's 
editors will answer inquiries), and the editorial staff 
will get back to you (usually within less than a day). 

If you do not want to submit any poetry/prose at 
the moment, but would like to subscribe, free of 
charge—especially if you would like to read the 
published work of some of your fellow Soupers 
in future issues of SWITCH magazine; fresh 
pieces that are not posted on poetrysoup.com—
type "Subscription" in the e-mail subject field 
(aside from selecting the work of people who are 
members of poetrysoup.com, SWITCH is not 
affiliated with—and transcends—poetrysoup.com; 
SWITCH will also be selecting authors who have 
no affiliation with poetrysoup.com).
 
Anyone is welcome to join; to join, one does not 
need to receive an invitation.

I vouch for the editorial staff 100%. Information 
is dealt with in a secure and professional manner.  

If so inclined, one can check for updates at 
twitter@SWITCH_P_P


Thank you.
_______







Edinburgh (the poem that this post used to be)


Sweeping through your scotch broom,
weeping over your cobblestones,
lilting around the columns of Calton Hill,
is an Age of Reason so brilliantly brooding,
some nights I am kept awake
listening to Pendragon's breath caress Arthur's Seat,
and whispers drip from sills on St. Giles Street.

Though roots may drink from a sleepless night,
when morning light creeps through the curtains,
my love for you is renewed.




+/-

Details | Free Verse Poem |

Melancholic Tree

In the middle of winter
within misty moors,
lies a melancholic meadow.

Up above grey skies foretell
perturbed crows to seek shelter.
Down below, 
an isolated tree - naked and fatigued;
Listens in silence.
Her soul is wounded,
but you do not see her blood.

Defiant against dysfunctional adversity,
her roots are stronger than an anchor.
Diversifying in deep directions, 
kissing the mouth of the Earth. 
Her torso may seem tall and mighty,
but her appearance deceives.
Sins of mankind have exposed her sap,
as bark beetles crumble the surface.

Forceful winds and bullet rain blasts
against her weary teary face.
Her tame frame trembles, 
as naked broken branches are 
blown away by brutal gusts.

It is just another battle for life,
as birds leave her behind - suffocating. 
Raindrops stream down her body,
creating puddles of sadness,
soaking deep into her roots. 

In the middle of winter
within misty moors,
lies a melancholic meadow;
where a tree yearns for Spring.
To bloom prosperously 
and to bathe in sunshine -
so departed birds return.

Silent One
20 February 2018

Details | Free Verse Poem |

Glory of her magnificence

Oceans apart
buried under sandy shores,
a rare pearl slept comfortably
behind her walls.

Fate must have been kind,
for a common man like me,
to stumble upon her shell.
As I brushed away her debris,
astonished - my eyes could not believe
this beauty, revealed before me.

Spellbound - I could not help but stare,
stunned by the glory of her magnificence.
As she took one step forward,
unutterable sensations,
took a hold of my emotions.
Yet I remained motionless,
overmastered by this
majestic heavenly vision.

And I could have sworn it was a dream,
until the softness of her fingertips,
graced the imperfections of my soul,
and for the first time it felt perfect.
All of a sudden it felt like we were floating,
ascending towards a myriad of stars,
with the moon guarding us silently.

Stardust sprinkled with the sight of her smile -
how fortunate was I, to celebrate this artistry.
Her lips blossomed like flowers
as they succulently caressed mine.
Breathless,
without saying a word her eyes acknowledged
my vow for eternal devotion with ever lasting love. 

Simple Musings
Silent One
19 September 2017

Details | Free Verse Poem |

Hands

Featuring: Leonora Galinta
----------------------------------
Take My Hands
I Offer Them To You
Hold Them Tight
Never Let Them Go!!!
---------------------------------

~MY HANDS~

With all the time on my hands
I gave my hands one job.
 My Hands   -The Artist-

My hands paint everything in my life
they paint my weakness, my strength 
they paint the fire in my eyes
they hold me when I'm cold
When I need them the most,

Like an architect, my hands colored my childhood,
In one touch they drew the plans and layouts of my life.
My hands *very articulate, are they?* 
They continue to sew and show the way  
Sometimes, my hands paint the truth
Sometimes, my hands paint lies
---  Painting hurtful images on drywall
My palms, my fingers embedded calluses from every fall
Creating images, healing my heart
Sometimes my hands are the only friend I see. 

With no words to say
I caress the sky like a mime
My hands ride the wind, 
My hands paint the world, 

Young and pretty fingerprints 
They feel, they hold, they grip
Don't let go!

Clever and cute
It's time for motherhood
My hands painted your first hold
Traced your first smile
A painting I treasure in my heart
Yes! A Rembrandt they became during birth 
Now you're all grown up...:-(  
Embarrassed to embrace the hold
One day when I'm old,
 you will hold my hands and remember the gold.

My hands paint designs when it comes to love
sometimes a masterpiece 
sometimes a mistake
sometimes my hands feel images I can't describe
Handicap moments when lost
--- My hands perfect when in love
They write songs when complete
So many interlock moment with you
Firm, the perfect match, my fingers spoke.

My hands  -The Artist-  they've been told!!!
Held so many times,
always meeting, greeting,  
waving hello's and goodbyes... 
((you see my hands, they smile too))

Painful, arthritis, cuts, bruises
pinching my way through reality. 
Reaching holding on to dreams
clapping, snapping fingers, we are a team.

My hands age in every turning page
Shriveled and old
Still you embrace and love the hold
My hands touch and made a difference,
my hands employed by me!
My hands give and pray
Right and Left, they know their duty!
When they are bored, they tap-tap
and draw THAT annoying noise.

My hands know secrets, a fortune teller can't reveal
they hold the past, present, and  future in every line.

I extend my hands, without flipping the bird
Thank you, Hands, I enjoy a good sign language show!

In my next life, or so, I will praise my hands
Yes so beautiful, tender, they love to feel.......

My Hands   -The Artist-
I can't believe with all the time on my hands,
I forgot to mention I'm left-handed.

by: PD

Details | Free Verse Poem |

Love Poem 29

Every day, I fall in love with something new,
while maintaining the love I have already found.

I fall in love with scars, wrinkles,
clichés, and repetition; I fall in love 
with items that people throw to the wind,
kick around, and step upon.

I fall in love with my enemies,
one of life's hardest lessons to learn;
I find haters to be marvelous motivators.

The old man who sits in a rain-gorged gutter,
his fist raised to the sky in fury
as he talks to an invisible audience
about how Apollo stole his dearly, beloved wife—

I fall in love with him too.

I fall in love with things that some people deem 
as ugly, dirty, morose, and immoral.
The more I fall in love,
the more I love each moment,
including the pain, torture, and misery 
that may unfold along the way.

Every day, I fall in love with something new,
while reinforcing the love I have already found.

If I write down treasonously teetering words,
the reader could assume such words 
to be rooted in rage, or a cynical outlook,  
when the words are actually birthed from love—
I love every word in existence.

I fall in love with the woman 
who is too shy to have a sincere conversation with anyone,
because she believes herself to be grotesque,
when in fact, she is exquisitely gorgeous.

I fall in love with broken daffodils, bent daisies,
a shattered seashell, the sweet stench of seaweed 
rotting on the shore, and the way her hair smells 
baking in the sun.
I fall in love with black and white photographs,
mesmerized by the essence that the dead have left behind.
I fall in love with marbles, the feathers of mourning doves,
and with the stray cat, who, after she watched the moving truck 
drive away, slunk around the alley in search of scraps—
over the years, she has proven to be a respectful 
and loyal companion (so easy to fall in love with, again and again,
while maintaining the love I already have).
I fall in love with saints, villains, rusted watering cans,
the way sunlight bends into prisms
when it shines through the cracked, antique windowpane
that I simply don't want to replace.


And as for the people who believe that it's impossible 
for someone such as myself
to fall in love with something new, every, single day,

well, I love them too.



2016 Pulse Remix, July 18th, 2016
(original version was written on April 6th, 2012)

Details | Free Verse Poem |

PLAGIARIZING

"Mine all Mine!"

A thief I long to be
Your eyes original like the moon and sea

A lover in the world............
An Anthology, you walk and talk like the word "AMOR."

The words you send, I nicely tuck under my pillow
Every note every line you left behind 
I memorized till they became all mine
Word-for-word, 
Unauthorized I scrape the concrete calluses off the tongue
Pirating the perfect dramatic monolog look,
Basking through the passage around your Bio, 
Lost in the musky scent -around the sonnet of your aura light 
Epic enough, I reach inside to feel every idyllic rhyme
A strong iambic meter curse, conjuring up the perfect verse
In you I lift a copy paste from your lips, 
No need to credit the sources in your bliss
The sweetest undamaged sensual memorandum book
A moment I stole and sealed without copyright proof

My dearest Poet, 
When you move across the room
I see a thousand arrows that follow from behind, 
Indulged when you speak and point out a verse per verse
I am a victim pampered by your words,
Sponging every line, adding them to my crib notes 
Improved wordplay that infringed my everyday diary
A haiku so tangible, it sets the perfect images in my dream,
Hypnotize after I read your first love poem
A printed feeling--
Borrowed from the sun

pd

Details | Free Verse Poem |

If My Love For You Was Greater

if my love for you was any greater
the trees would  line up in poetic forms
...awe you in sonnets written...
...part...to allow winds to cool your face...
 to trace it with natures hand.


all the oxygen that covers all the waters rise,
supercharge the breath of my emotion.

mountains would melt, shed their peaks like tears of joy.

even the arid deserts serve up fruits, 
their prickly pears peeled on a platter.

sunset would pause and sunrise hurry...
...exist in a paradox to herald your presence.

petals would climb their stems 
regroup to bloom again.

butterflies re-cocoon 
emerge as glorious fairies 
for all children to adore.

the skies would willingly 
shape, etch,  paint,  
frame my exuberance.


the planet would swell,
the galaxies expand.

in the endless depth 
of my singular love 
i hold you dear,
safely contain you 
in my admiring smile,

for now,

forevermore.




16~10~2014
Sponsor: Rhonda Johnson-Saunders
Contest Name: Your Most Romantic Poem of 2014

Details | Free Verse Poem |

A beautiful mirror

-Escape of the mountain-

Do you care about my breast?
The new curve - countryside corset. 
The beauty of every summer dress 
Laying down, wearing out gravity 
Embracing the same feeling; Your
hands indulged in. Passion and devotion, 
around perfumed scenery... 
     The perfect pair

Today we will pray,
Counting every second on the clock 
No longer the womanly figure before'
I will possess a new battle, 
around the virtues of my palace.

-Will you still be there, 
  when the hump and lump are gone?
-Will I still be the queen of your heart?
Patiently I shall wait and see, 
 in hopes to gain the time, breast cancer stole 
Leaving behind torn tissue, with a daily reminder of;
The one that got away.

---note---
A Focus on Breast Cancer

Details | Free Verse 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 am 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


Written March 27th, 2016
Entered into SKAT's Premiere contest.

Details | Free Verse Poem |

A smile appeared

Silently, I sat by,

To listen to the sounds of the world,

Of all the voices that touched me most,

Were those caught in the angelic wind.

For all things have a voice,

And the voice for all things speaks through the wind,

So, silently I sat and listened.

With the salty taste of a tear

As it touched my upper lip,

A smile appeared.

All the while the wind kept blowing,

Secret after secret, revealing to me,

If only I could comprehend its wisdom.

But that is half the allure,

Happy I am just to hear it blow,

And acknowledge its influence over my spirit.

The wind has taught me many things,

Though, I cannot speak for the wind,

Instead, let it speak for me.

Details | Free Verse Poem |

The Daughter Of The North Wind Sings In Soprano

 

In riming realms of crystal contemplations
frozen water vapor meditations
and chilled flutes filled with zodiacal light musings 
of ancient cosmic dust 
dancing 
in the arms of Sol ~

windswept operatic reveries
rise and fall
as her stirring soprano
tickled by chantings of icicled chimes
gathers momentum
in strengthening sprays
of frosted musical notes drifting in broken chords...

she bestrides
a clouded steed colored mother-of-pearl  
flowing with fury
within which beats a blustery heart
surging at jet stream speeds
she hearkens to hailstorm hooves
from the streamered skies of the merry dancers

they fly aloft
on arctic gales of lyrical laughter
igniting the imagination
of her freezing fire
burning now with a blistering whip
and a nipping frostbite
that sinks its tingling teeth deep

sailing 
a supernatural stage
amplifying -
her aerated soprano soars
in polar vortex arias
as avalanching glazed trinkets; 
decendants of her fertile femininity
skydive
in shivering sixfold symmetry
falling 
in fierce flights of fancy
as she cyclones on consecrated currents
with wild abandon
escalating
in twirling trills 
of glass beaded squalls
swirling her iced eiderdown skirts aflare
baring tempest thighs
storming with a Siberian sting ~

and as her electric eyes 
sparkle
with luminous lightning
she buries you
in a blizzard 
of opal mistletoe berries
and wanton whims.




Susan Ashley
February 20, 2018

------------------------------


~ First Place ~
Contest: Your best free verse 2018
Sponsor: John Hamilton

Details | Free Verse Poem |

To all the heart breakers -a ZOMBIE's valentine

Wouldn't you rather~

Wouldn't you rather be dead?
Maybe shoot yourself in the head?
Over my dead heart, I'd never want to be a zombie like you.
The sight of your limbs are rotten all the time.
All synonyms say of you looks like a 3 legged swine.
Go ahead and do us all a favor, 
hide and stash yourself away from all your neighbor. 
I think I'd rather have my eyes stuck with glue
So I won't have to look at you
When it comes to family friends, you ain't got none.
You're always gonna be called the lonely retarded one.
Who could ever love a face like yours.
not even your mother see's pass your gores 
No need for privacy when you pee
Go ahead and take a leak and drown yourself in the sea.
Don't think for one second you are irresistible 
Love making with a zombie is impossible.

Wouldn't you rather be dead?
maybe shoot yourself in the head

The time to kill yourself is at hand.
Slicing your wrist is what we recommend.  
Cut your tongue off, don't want to hear you squeal.   
Blood all over, your face is no big deal
A sword or machete will only pick up the pace
I wanna see your guts pop out your mid-waist 
Contaminated objects is a must
Anything to remove your face of disgust.
The easy part is the best
Once you are gone we will all feel blessed,
The flaw of your existence  
Is what keeps us all in distance 

Wouldn't you rather be dead?
maybe shoot yourself in the head

Close your eyes and die
No one wants to hear you cry
You said you wanted to be loved
believe me~ you're better off unloved
I say do yourself off
Anyways you've always had it rough...
Go ahead and scream
This is not a dream
Now see how you make me feel
All I want is for you to end your ugly ordeal.
I will praise this day of course
Knowing soon you'll be a rotting corpse.

happy valentine ~ TO: All My DEADBEAT X-es from Texas.

Details | Free Verse Poem |

Closer

    The sky resembles the robin's eggshells
                                                      scattered across the ground,

a blue so seemingly infinite                     yet fragile,
cracks running between understanding and madness
 
       complementing each other

as divine truths in their own right
to conquer my mind,
to unhinge the doors,
making it unnecessary to pick rusted locks

      letting thoughts fly free,
                                       releasing love out into the horizon.

If frozen within caged snapshots of mildewed expectations,
      it will surely die,
                 but even so,
  I was willing to strangle it by holding on too tightly.

    
    Until I saw the sky and eggshells today


      Peppered clouds reflected on the water,
                                            paralleling speckles on the eggshells,
                                    remind me of the freckles on your face.

  We need to be wide-open-free,
                                                we need to fly,
         without focusing too hard on shells of yesterdays.

We need to unclench our fists,
unclench our tongues,
explore the vast blue peppered sky 
                                                 
                                                      on wings of letting go....

 so that we can once again feel with purity,       
 so that we can hold each other ever closer.







05.24.12

Details | Free Verse Poem |

Rape

October: I'm eighteen, shortcutting home
through an autumn-burnished churchyard -
copper-lustred leaves, moss-skinned stone -
a jaunty swing of skater skirt and arm,
college folder square-sturdy in my hand.
In the moment. In the last pale pulse of sun.

"Hey, can you tell me...?"
I halt. I turn...

Cold earth. Colder blade dimpling my skin.
My coral cameo earrings scatter,
daisy-dotting the green.
My back is spiked by needles of yews.
Sun skews, sky side-slides
until his face is the firmament.
I'm staring into the tumid blank-bloat of blue;
the ground hardening beneath me,
the death-spike trees stiffening.

Heavy Special Brew breaths.
Grubby, moist fingers
like grubs crawling over my breasts,
and, weirdly, I'm smelling pepper -
horror-spice of pungent lust,
its acrid nose-thrust -
and woodsmoke is drifting from somewhere...
lung-flame, tongue-flames
of searing words - his words -
blazing like the umber tumbling leaves.

"Please...Please...I'll..."
Fear-forced bargaining, but I'm beyond care.
And I'm aware
of the church steeple rising,
its phallus penetrating sky.
The tilting church could topple
as tears crystal-crush in my eyes.
Fear-faint, already half gone
in a soundless scream, my muted mouth
mouths silent goodbyes
to Sarah, to Mum.

Time slows to a crawl.
I try to call. Nobody comes
but the man who has me ground-pinned.
Bleachy stink of semen
whitening my ripped skater skirt,
but some things don't fade
and there is no clean in this, just dirt,
wet leaf-mulch, shame.
Ineradicable hurt.

Sacred soil is soiled, sullied.
Stunned, I stumble
shoeless, knickerless,
into the trees and heave
into the mud, into the leaves
strings of spittle-sick,
my thoughts strung out,
reality spun out.

From stinking, pulped leaves I retrieve
crushed coral earrings,
ground-grimy knickers,
my white court shoes
that whitely scream the 80s,
the scattered tatters of essays -
white, like fallen feathers, sunk in the sludge,
muddied, the red-inked words bloodied.
I gather them together.
Gather myself.
I go

forward into my future, stained from pain
and tainted touch, the smears of fear, self-disgust.
And oozing slime-soft into my ears
the mire of incongruous apology: I'm sorry
don't tell anyone - I won't.

I don't.

Details | Free Verse Poem |

The Fallen Poet

(The Fallen Poet)

Shadows, fall from the east
Winter show, white meadows,
Compelling words lost, in a silent world
Beautiful, Bloomingdale is how it goes
Apocalypto-- my very own limbo
Alone in a field of corpses-
A field of men, women and broken pens, 
Images of angels fallen to their knees

A piece of space, of solitude
The sun a wasted disease
The more I prayed the worse I felt,
Lord, I came before - broken and alone

Heaven sees the secret inside
Lost I may be, yet you see
Offended me, I no longer sing
I wait till all is asleep
My ink is dry, a broken poet, with nowhere to go
Lost in the shadows of snow, frozen like ice
A sheet of paper, with no meaning, no words

My friends, my comrades, how easily one forgets

Like a game of chess, I panicked
Made all the right and wrong moves
I lost my way, staggered across
Love comes and love goes
My heart weaker than, weak
I don't know how I survived before, 
After turning the other cheek
I was no longer whole, forsaken myself endlessly 
I was lost, could not even count on myself

Guidance, I ignored no one believed what's become of me
Alone, I stood in old footsteps after falling down

At times end, I found nothing could put me back where I belong
It's time to get back on offense,
Walk through the new, refreshing old footprints

~*~

Details | Free Verse Poem |

Touch Me

"In Touch With Myself"

I can't seem to find her
The reminder of yesterday
I shut my eyes for a few seconds
Only there, can I reach to bear upon her face
The moment I open my eyes
The earth opens and she disappears
Every now and then
Darkness takes form around the blank wall
It brings out a long lost silhouette.
-I inhale a small desire, 
reaching and tracing every line left behind.

I Just can't seem to reach her
The girl drowning deep inside
I turn around to look and feel no one by my side
It's been long since she slowly faded away
I gaze into the mirror and miss her every day
For one second past,
I swear she was there.

Lately, I can't seem to find her
That girl I was before
Empty feelings continue to lounge about
Rejecting yesterday away.
-Honestly, I don't know why I bother,
holding on to somebody that is no longer there?

By:PD

Details | Free Verse Poem |

Quarantine of the Soul

-Quarantine of the Soul-


Tranquil pills fall deep like the night
A sweet fangless course
Bites with no remorse
Your eyes struggle to read my ageless soul
Lost 
Dark
You open a heart under Quarantine 
The past
The present
The future
Stand in the way of what was and never will be
A contagious disease
I call "LOVE!"

(Past-- you came)
Somewhere deep inside --with you--
The Maverick 
The Majestic
The Arriving Vessel of Light
I separated myself from the world
 --to be with you--
I polished a new diamond night
With pleasures of meeting where our hearts began
Deep like the night, you woke my sleepless soul
Removing it from the safe harbor of the sea
-Isolated from all to see
No risk or chance, of smiling endlessly 

(Present-- you set)
Tonight you fell from Mandalay
You spoke in a way that Cut my throat with truth 
You detained my ego clouding the auspices sky
Allowing a smile
A tender peek into your heart
It spread in ways -- I wanted more 
I kept deep until you found your way past the door
Persistent memories 
In search of eternity
Tonight lets learn to live again
With no fear, I remove all labels
Making the moon and sun rise together
My love, my life now depends on you

(Future-- you left)
With no explanation
The age of Quarantine will forever set

You came to me
Set me free
Just to leave 

Now you are a virus --- Just like them!!!

By: PD

Details | Free Verse Poem |

Midnight Secret

*Secreto de Medianoche*   
  
~On this very Night~
   I found myself in a
        FANTASY 

Camouflage in lace, 
I run my hands all over the place
Wet whispers drop in between
In a soft stroke,
I touch the tan on my skin 
Pure sweetness unfolds
The perfumes in the air  - Arouse 
   every sexual intention inside
Without a care, 
I'm lost in the moment,

Every feeling at this point,
   feels erotically insane, 
In a seductive way--
  the night whispers my name, 
A freedom flight - into the night.
                            (Like the wind)
 
Caressing my breast, my legs tremble
Beyond the haze, into another world 
Never pointless - A new sensation
My fingers slither, a play tonight

Circles in motion, 
Vibrations and self-soothing lotion, 
I touch myself gently, 
Thinking of you relentlessly,
Looking around, 
The night echoes a whimpering sound, 
Embracing the secrets inside 
I squeeze the dark damp sheets-
Moaning and moaning, repeatedly. 
Holding my silk pillow, groping my knees,
I run my finger on my lips - 
Satisfaction complete! 
Back into the realm of dreams. 
~Tonight~

:)

Details | Free Verse Poem |

CAMPFIRE

~CAMPFIRE~ 

I hunger to taste your solid wood stare
You and I, no one else at all
Snuggling under the stars
Hungry for each others ears

Chasing every comet across the sky
Fierce when it comes to standing tall
Desires releasing screams from the mundane night
Running naked throughout the world
Firewood burning the depth of our soul
Dancing in a way we put mortals to shame 
A cloud of grey shade arousing the night
Secret moans before morning dew hit sunrise

Crawling around in circles
Feeling each others heart instincts
Surrender to the ashes of our skin 
Passion lost deep in a dream-catchers web.

A pack of thieves we long to be
Weaving each other’s growls  
No one dares to separate the pack we create 
A stare of solid wood I hunger to taste. 


~night after night~ 
  ~IN THE MOOD~
       ~always~

      7/14/2011