Best Get Lost Poems | Poetry

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New Get Lost Poems

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

I get lost by sharma, anurag
Sometimes I Get Lost by Leach, Alesia
Let Get Lost by H. Chouhdry, M. Shahid
Get Lost by H. Chouhdry, M. Shahid
Don't Get Lost In Fantasy by Fairchild, Harrison
There are no roads to get lost in a place called heaven by Clark, Kevin
Get Lost Creep by Pettit, Robert
Before I get Lost by havey, miriam
Let's Get Lost by Matheny, Ali
How to get lost by Meikle, Donald
Get Lost From My World by Moon, Eli

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The Best Get Lost Poems

 
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To Be With You -

I love you,
that's not hard for me to say,
its not a prediction, or a reflection, it just is
a motion in my heart's ocean,
an ocean named Odyssey
a color called True For You,
I don't want to hide that from you like sparkle from a jewel,
hiding love is a difficult game,
an invisible flame starving for the fame of your name,
and sometimes love can get lost in the playing fields,

My soul can't wait 'till another lifetime to spark on your's,
my body won't survive the well wishes of Eternity's elasticity,
the gravity of my greed for you will not escape the orbit of obsession,

I can't afford another lifetime, another baptism in Beauty's bemusement,
Time will not outflank my love for you,
graves & guesses, epitaphs & epiphanies would only bruise my passion,
a will power refusing to withstand the winks of the clock towers torment,
the thick wick of my wonderlust must combust now or never,
we need to turn winter into spring,
flip silver into gold,
to make touch our bread,
push pink into red -

J.A.B.


Copyright © Justin Bordner | Year Posted 2014

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Sweet Sugar Cookies and Peanut Butter Bars

"I dream of Candy!"

Sweet cakes and peanut butter squares 
A living diabetic's nightmare. --  My heart 
sings to the beat, Under the Neutron Star Crunch
Sweet sugar cookies and peanut butter bars

Taunting whoopers, 
Dancing dum dum's, 
The sweetest silhouette show - in my room
Dreamy, Creamy Cupcakes in the afternoon
Cinnamon Cheerios cascade on my spoon
Sweeter than my sweet tooth
Now and later - a forever honeymoon

Jigglin' my jelly belly boo berry Butterfinger delight
I'm in love, licking the icy ICEE  all night long
Extra freshness, once I crop a top off of a mountain dew pop
My eyes sparkle like diamond dazzle razzles in the sky
i LIVE to fabricate my very own sugar extract R.E.M. Sleep
Savoring the sound of saliva trapped in my mouth
THIS night  -   ovulated buds   -  wait to feast!
Enjoying a delicious dulce music sleepy symphony

Braggin' and embracin' a pinata pillow escapade
Enchanted by a cotton candy crave - calling my name

Lalaloopsy licorice and lemonade tea
The best-wet dream I've ever seen
Marshmallows of solitude dulcify every fresh fantasy
Enticing in a bright slushy skittles daydream freeze

One fat sunny bowl of cereals and cane
Crackerjack spell ---  chocolate chip swirls, 
Caramel lumps constipate the brain
Sizing - peanuts and in a popcorn party payday
Wrigley's wild winter Spearmint Breath parade
Give me, give me, some Gummy bear Dessert  
---------"Another Fruit Ninja hair DAY!"
Watermelon Taffy stuck on the top of my gums
Swallowing the whiteness in a whistle pop bar
I FELL LIKE A SWEET SUGAR STAR!!!

Glaze of glory erupts deep down my throat 24/7
Bubblicious, mint twist, Sunkist the best Twizzler breakfast
Yummy in my twinkie tummy, drooling over frosted flakes 
One more strawberry smoothie 44 oz cup   
Counting each and every Pez popping'' up
Goodnight light, 
It's time to get lost under the midnight moon pie sky
SELF- Huggin'' and snugglin'' to a new sugar rush high

:-D


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015




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Old man

Silently he sat in darkness, flinching at the sight of light.
Which created a glow reflecting on his balding head.
His cold glare did not help my nerves, 
so I simply stood there observing his silence.

His philosopher beard's tendrils seem to crawl forever,
some hidden behind his buckled knuckle hands.
Wizened victims of one too many a fist fight.
When you looked closer, they exposed branded tattoos, 
a timeless reminder from his perturbed past.

He was a man whose ship had never sailed, 
maybe too afraid to sink within uncharted waters.
Yet this pilgrim had walked many a path for several decades.
Burning many bridges along the way, until his feet became weary.
To many, he was an 'old dog' that should have been put down
a long time ago - yet he had never requested to live this long.
He didn't seem like a religious man, but he eagerly anticipated death.

An emphatic glance into his lackadaisical drowsy eyes,
revealed hidden sorrows built up through the generations.
Every wrinkle on his sullen face seemed to be an emblem of pain.
He looked tired, worn down by life and defeated by humanity.
A fighter who had fought and fallen many times, 
but always returned to the ring. Begging to be punished.

His body had now become slender and emaciated, 
it seemed a strong gust could blow it away.
It was evident he enjoyed to pretend, but I knew his game.
Especially when his idle facial impressions struggled with 
the sound of bones creaking in sluggish movement.

He started to whistle a tune, it was familiar, 
but I couldn't put a name to it.
As he rubbed his eyes, his cheeks crumpled.
A wry smile, crippled by decaying teeth appeared,
as his lethargic lips spoke with a burdened tone.

“Life is like a coin. You can spend it any way you wish, but you only spend it once.  Someone once said that boy! But, let me tell you, no matter how many times you toss that coin, it will never land on the same side."

A sardonic expression appeared on his face. 
But, I could see he had a story to tell, 
but his tongue seemed to refuse to dance 
with the desires of his heart.
Silence was still my guide though, 
but unsure if it was due to tact or fear.
I wanted to know about the wounds engraved on his heart,
and the agony ingrained in his soul.

Following a deep sigh, he began to speak, but now in a subtle tone.

I can't tell you about smiles, 
but I sure can tell you about tears, boy.
They called me a coward, because I didn't go to war,
but I've been a prisoner of war all my life. 
And I've had more blood on my hands,
than any 'son of a gun,' solider, boy.
Its always been me against the world, 
to save myself I lived a life of manipulation,
but I never meant to hurt a soul,
unless they deserved it and too many did.

After a slight pause, his tone sounded more intense.

"I was born on a night when the heavens cried.
I've asked GOD, why did the angels hide when I arrived. 
Instead he sent the grim reaper to take my mother.
I didn't even have a chance to feel her skin.
I've never been able to call anyone mother."

He was now staring at me, I could see the rage in his eyes,
so intimidating, I turned my head towards the floor. 
His tone now fierce, I could feel his wrath.

"Life is full of second hand emotions, broken dreams,
forgotten promises and bleeding hearts!! Regretful memories,
of haunting ghosts, whose spirit voices torment my mind!!
And you want to hear something nostalgic, boy?
Try being beaten every day, for just existing!!
Try being seen as the cause of death!!

And then they wonder why..."

He wipes away intrinsic tears,
trembling, he lights up a cigarette.

"we done here boy"

and then the silence returned...

Walking away in somewhat of a daze,
instinctively I remembered the song;

 Old man look at me now....
Love lost, such a cost,
Give me things
that don't get lost.
Like a coin that won't get tossed
Rolling home to you.

Silent One
1 November 2017


Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2017

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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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The Blind Painter

There is a part of me missing
There is a part of me that shall never be
Inside of this dark sad brooding mind
Is the painter who will never see

So I take my pen, and vaso of wine
I contemplate
I get lost in the drunkenness of time
Stooped over my own memories on a sour palette

I had the brushes staring at the naked breast
My paints were frozen, at such beauties unrest
Erect and tall, at her feet I did fall
The blind painter, who lost it all

So now you see I am a poet of some seedy sort
Painting Braille, is poetry of my last resort
I write down words with the flourish of my pen
The Braille poet, cause painting I could not fend

I take words and wish them bountiful explosive colors
If only I had talent, a painter and not a story teller
So for me, in pain and clad in the cloth of sadness
I write words, for this painter has only Braille

I have no painting brushes
I possess no smile, wandering along on wistful miles
Of blindness, blowing in the winds of the frail
No map for the future, and yet I set sail

Hoping my words one day will be seen
By an artist who paints the soul and the serene
She takes my blindness and paints boldly my dreams
Taking my words, from Braille to bright pastel creams


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2017

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Hey Jude - Dedicated to Winged Warrior

Hey Jude, love is like a butterfly - just let it be. You've got a ticket to ride, go where you should be. Love is a revolution it shall set you free. Don't live a life of sorrow like Eleanor Rigby. You've got a ticket to ride, go where you should be. From Penny lane to Abbey road, you'll find the way. Don't live a life of sorrow like Eleanor Rigby. Don't be a nowhere man, forget about yesterday. From Penny lane to Abbey road, you'll find the way. Become a pilgrim of the long and winding road. Don't be a nowhere man, forget about yesterday. In a Norwegian wood, you'll find the secret code. Become a pilgrim of the long and winding road, but don't get lost in strawberry fields forever. In a Norwegian wood, you'll find the secret code. All you need is love, so trust the path you endeavour. But don't get lost in strawberry fields forever, I always get by with a little help from my friends. All you need is love, so trust the path you endeavour, in my life, I've seen heartache, but it always ends. I always get by with a little help from my friends. A day in the life of a broken soul, is full of fear. In my life, I've seen heartache, but it always ends. Sometimes whilst my guitar gently weeps, I shed a tear. A day in the life of a broken soul, is full of fear. After a hard days night the mind seems to go astray. Sometimes whilst my guitar gently weeps, I shed a tear. Yet I don't believe you've got to hide your love away. After a hard days night the mind seems to go astray. Sometimes its difficult and you can't buy me love. Yet I don't believe you've got to hide your love away. In the end I feel fine, when healed from powers above. Sometimes its difficult and you can't buy me love. I'm saving all my loving for her eight days a week! In the end I feel fine, when healed from powers above. When soulmates come together, passions reach their peak. I'm saving all my loving for her eight days a week! You'll know when she loves you - you'll want to twist and shout! When soulmates come together, passions reach their peak. You'll see something in the way she moves, there's no doubt. You'll know when she loves you - you'll want to twist and shout! One glance and you'll be singing I wanna hold your hand. You'll see something in the way she moves, there's no doubt. Help the caterpillar to leave its cocoon- just as planned. One glance and you'll be singing I wanna hold your hand. Love is a revolution it shall set you free Help the caterpillar to leave its cocoon- just as planned. Hey Jude, love is like a butterfly - just let it be The Silent One 29 October 2017
A pantoum containing 29 titles from songs produced by the Beatles. Hey Jude (1968) Let It Be (1970) Ticket to Ride (1965) Revolution (1968 Eleanor Rigby (1966) Penny Lane (1967) Abbey Road (1969) Yesterday (1965) Nowhere man (1965) The long and winding road Norwegian Wood (1965) Strawberry Fields Forever (1967) All you need is love (1967) With a little help from my friends (1967) In My Life (1965) While My Guitar Gently Weeps (1968) A Day in the Life (1967) A hard days night (1964) You've got to hide your love away (1965) Can't buy me love (1964) I Feel Fine (1964) All my loving (1963) Eight days a week (1964) Come together (1969) Twist and shout (1963) She Loves You (1963) Something in the way she moves (1969) I Want to Hold Your Hand (1963) Help! (1965)


Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2017

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The Secret

The Secret
Somewhere someplace not far away a couple lied together.
No talk about the future no talk about forever.
They had lovers of their own their lovers were not there.
It's best if kept a secret the love that they would share.

Lost in loves great passion covered in each others sweat.
They're going to have a baby but they don't know it yet.
In nine months the baby born a secret softly cries.
So much still for him to learn of life conceived in lies.

Often he just played alone it seemed it was his way.
Then one day the secret was sent outside to play. 
He grew strong like others did he gave it all his best.
Without one clue he never knew the truth beat in his chest.

Overwhelmed again and again the sadness he can't shake.
The devil whispered in his ear “You are a mistake”.
Still he tried through tears he cried to somehow rise above.
Getting lost time and again in his search for love.

When the walls came crashing down his whole world fell apart.
Welcome to the world of secrets and to your broken heart.
Shattered like a piece of glass his dreams fell to the ground.
Somewhere up near heaven even angels heard the sound.

Tears poured from his heart and soul through both day and night.
Searching for some healing in words that he would write.
Broken in so many ways all he meant for good.
Forever somehow secret where some misunderstood.

Now he walks in shadows seeking shelter from the rain.
Don't you dare look in his eyes you'll get lost inside his pain.
Like the secret long ago he spends his time alone.
It seems being by himself is now his comfort zone.

Asking nothing from no one wanting only just to give.
The only dream he still dreams is live and just let live.
A million miles on his heart and tears that he still cries.
So it is for secrets and those conceived in lies.
Edwin C Hofert


Copyright © Edwin Hofert | Year Posted 2015

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Trying to Grasp The Magnificent

I sense the fullness 
in fleeting moments
At those rare times 
I'm able to let go of me
The ebbs and flows 
of non linear thinking
when I am part of the everything 
I was born to be

For within the simple
Magnificence is grasped
The beginning precedes an ending
that in the future will be passed
Over and under 
all the spaces in between
If we look only with our eyes
the answers won't be seen

Quiet is not time wasted
each moment we have has been lent
Some things don't require saying
Through actions we learn what is meant
Feel the power of pausing
Within a moment thoughts can crystallize 
By choosing to listen with intention 
We learn the wheres and whys

Observations is much more important 
then any of my (me)s or (I)s
I often get lost within my own talking
and hold onto my wordy lies
When I use a different kind of perspective
I hear the whispering of the Wise
Floating upon eternal verses
as within my being they steadily rise

Viewing the mosaic of all creation
The wonder of how all things interconnect
the order of God's magnificence 
creates inner peace and Holy respect
My thoughts are no longer singular
Like droplets of water ideas collect
The things in life most important
I see things I didn't expect
For no person is truly independent 
Through God's grace we draw every breath
Here within this total miracle 
I've witnessed God's width and His depth!


I believe our souls recognize our creator when we are in tune with God's Creation.





Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2016

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Wave by Wave

Sometimes I get lost 
in the shallow-sweet depth 
of empty words.

I wade into love like it’s the sea. 
refreshing, at first;
it claims me for its own 
and I trust it to carry me,
as in a dream, wave by wave 
like a blue-grey painting 
with tangerine glow,

tossed high on lonely waves
and fake-love lines that are written
in the place where sincerity should be, 
until reality drags me down, 
as an undertow. 

Lines are crossed,
then crossed off
all too often I’m forgotten -

I’m drowning
wave by wave
and nobody sees.

Or maybe they think I’m just 
waving 
goodbye.


Copyright © Becca Teagan | Year Posted 2017

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MoUNTAIN DRoP

`~ MoUNTAIN DRoP~

I want to be like the mountain top.  
The higher I go, the less room I have to stop. 
A moment to think~ a moment to slow. 
With one look down!  
I release my breath and let it flow. 
My fallen star has hit the ground. 
Life's deepest thoughts will never be found. 
When no ones around! 
I will allow myself to drown,
only when the world brings me down. 
 
I want to take that key! 
Turn it around, and get lost in that moment only I see. 
I want to lose my soul!
I am ready to go!
I am ready to look! 
Ready to fall!
Ready to leave!
Leave it all! 
 
Jumping off the edge when I hit rock bottom. 
Or, should I continue my lies 
and pretend  to be the best in every ones eye! 
The best to climb the mountain top. 
Reaching for them stars in the skies 
The best~never to look down. 
The best will never be good enough for me. 
While I am around...

~~ SKAT ~~


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2010

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Stargazer

Under 65 degree starry, onyx blanket
Containment of quarter moon identity

A whimsically soothing song exuded
In muffled taps & Prohibition era lyric

In the distance,
Snow-capped mountains reflecting lunar clarity
Off its tips of freedom

As we lay on recycled steel hood,
Made in 1950s USA, when it mattered,
Her silhouetted fingertips released from my right arm
While insistently looking towards stratosphere’s vocal chord

“Can’t it be like this forever?
Oh, how I want to just make love to the stars.
Become one with Orion while riding
On Sagittarius’s arrow”

“What about our stars?”, he softly questioned.

“I’d like to be your never-ending shooting star.
To ride on blue moon’s comet, by your side”

Cricket whispers manhandled his romantic clef
Mother Nature’s afterglow, upon her ears, fallen deaf

Inherent waxy build-up from illicit tongue,
She pat his shoulders like a dog
Being taught his first lesson

Her eyes, still sky high.

“Sigh, I like how you think.
You’re such a nice friend.
You’re going to make a woman so happy one day.
I hope to meet a guy just like you.”

As her eyes sighed with a powerful lack of substance
Into the arms of Leo,
A slammed car door supplants the reverberation of the car’s V8 engine.

He confidently turns back the hands of time.

Reversal gears become his new tune

“If you get lost going home, follow the stars.”

As he pulls away with majestic, amplified lyrics
Of Whitesnake’s “Here I go Again”

Going down the only road he’s ever known

While she stands in fraudulent gasps of shock,
Looking back up to the stars in blank wonder

As he accelerates into a new page in his book
Closing his chapter with wondrous questions

“Why would I taste your starlight?

When you never believed in our constellation?”

©Drake J. Eszes
It’s good to gaze at the stars and make wishes. But, be careful what you wish for. For Earth has its own gifts…


Copyright © Drake Eszes | Year Posted 2013

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Hidden Beauty


A garden presents a most beautiful sight
When seen from afar in a much broader light,
For there in a setting with all that surrounds,
Its total of beauty and color abounds.

To observe much too closely, study and dwell,
Inspect every flower and leaf very well,
Will quickly cancel the powerful presence
Of unified form with divergent essence.

Then we are bound to observe those objections—
The scattered, meaningless small imperfections
Of petals and blossoms and leaves not so fair;
Lose sight of the wonderful whole that they share.

We can also apply this to those we love,
And sometimes must separate, step back enough,
To view the grand total of gifts which combine
To create an image of balanced design,

And appreciate well those colors which are
A bit subtle up close but strong from afar.
So trite imperfections get lost in the ray
Of the aura of wholeness seen from away.

And so like the grand garden’s totality,
When we stand back to thoroughly look and see,
We will vision with awe a marvelous view…
Total beauty and depth now perceived anew. 


Sandra M. Haight

~1st Place~
Contest: Hidden Beauty
Sponsor: Rhonda Johnson-Saunders
Judged: 02/04/2015

Quote: Ralph Waldo Emerson
“Every particular in nature, a leaf, a drop,
a crystal, a moment of time is related to the whole, 
and partakes of the perfection of the whole.”




Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2015

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I Am


I am here but only briefly, 
a believer in today, tomorrow
and ever after. I am a blustery wind
shaking the foundation and a gentle 
breeze rustling the leaves.
I am an observer of the beautiful, 
graceful, awkward and absurd,
feeling like a spy amongst
voices and visions, kinetic energy,
filling the spaces between footsteps
and the void between us.   
I am an over thinker, one woman,
always wondering, waiting 
for the rain on a sunny day.
I often remind myself:
I am not the center of this world or any other.
Still, I must find my place even when 
circumstances change. I do not like change.
Like a sturdy oak, I am rooted and earthy,
but sometimes…I want to spread my wings
and land on a rugged mountaintop.
I am a rock star yearning to ramble 
from city to city, finding solace
in a sea of faces. Oh, to just get lost in the 
music and crowds would be sublime!
I am passionate on the inside, 
reserved on the outside –
complex in all my contradictions -
a broken child with shattered dreams
yet I still find hope in each sunrise and
peace with each sunset.
I am always searching for more time,
just one stolen moment to take a deep breath.
I am forgiving and want to be forgiven.
I am a nurturing mother. 
My sons are my reason to get out of bed
when I’d rather hideaway.
My sons are my joy (both scream
for me right now). 
I am a juggler, trying to keep
all my balls in the air, and also 
absentminded for obvious reasons. 
I am a woman who loves to be loved –
complex in all my contradictions.
I am not that different than you.
We all just want to feel connected.


By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders for Frank Herrera’s I Am Contest, 11/5/14



Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2014

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Your Touches

Your touches are subtle enough to make my heart race 
They draw me closer to you, I get lost in your embrace 
An eternal fire is burning way down deep inside 
If only in your arms, I could crawl into and hide 

To hear your heart beat deep inside your chest 
You are my safe foundation of happiness and rest 
The joy you bring me when your sweet face is near 
Allowing all my fear, worries, and troubles to disappear 

Worth more to me than anything, my most precious desire 
When I'm with you, nothing can get me any higher 
Your touches are welcome, they're all that I need 
When you're not near me, my heart so does bleed 

Leaving me hopeless, my world turns upside down 
I'm heartbroken and lonely when you aren't around 

Co-Written with Tim Smith


Copyright © chelsy gonzales | Year Posted 2014

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And The Road Begins?

Mornings are dreadful time in life unless waking beside gorgeous woman hopefully 
a not married one  husbans can be such a downer.
And when ya wake to a warm beautiful creature by your side.
And the first thought that comes to your mind is i wonder whats for breakfest.

Then ya probaly cant read the menu to start with and desserve 
to have a oversized weight lifter re arrange your ribs.

Im a southern man once means several things  non of which means im normal.
And this morning finds my yerning for a trip and widespread  mischief.
My amigo had vanished after are trip south of the boarder I remember saying 
to myself as i watched him  running naked across the dessert  being chased 
by the flying monkeys  he was surley seeing after his consumption of a foreign substance 

There goes a fine american.

I would have ran after him  but  but i didnt want thoose things to turn there attention to me 
I herd they had a thing for southern  actscents.
And theres nothing  worse than a bunch of horney flying monkeys trust me 
Ive delt with this problem  befor.

and being it was happy hour i knew my slightly insane amigo would understand 
in all his naked glory.
Besides  I left him some sneakers  and a sixpack.
And kept his credit card for safe keeping.

Naked men have no place to keep credit cards and I figured he was in no state to handle 
money.

So as i sit  behind  the wheel  ready to to get lost in the madness of fast food and
  the ant hill of insanity that is wall mart i turn my thoughts to vegas.
For where would a lost nude slightly insane person  run to and feel at home.

I had turn the music up to drown out the sound of whoever was in the trunk.
I figured if i had put sombody in there  in a drunken moment.
It had to be for a good reason.

And so with slightly hungover mindset are road begins.
and so with that do the games also.
And i figured hanging around with a cops wife wasnt the smartest idea.
That and im allergic to bullets.

My muse and 16 year old spirtiual advisor had phoned me to say that.
I probaly needed to Invest in the spirt of Jack Daniels  today.
And hey she had went to church more than once  so who was I to argue.

With a five five spitfire by the name of tinker.
so with A unknown companion in the trunk not helping my hangover i was off
to the races  Untill next time kiddies. 
Adios and im off to find my amigo.


Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo | Year Posted 2009

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Visit to Grandma

Have you ever woken up feeling like a kid 

With angels dropping cotton candy on your soul 

When knocks on doors reveal no steps in snow 

And shooting stars have white beards and presents? 

I get lost sometimes under goose feathers and it feels good, 

Broken speakers squeak Christmas Carols 

There are no clocks on walls, only the rhythm of pine logs in the fireplace 

It smells of the forest I used to fly with horses, 

No saddles, no hats, no shoes, no wolves... 

Just practicing tying my shoelaces and sitting up straight for life... 

I watch her reflection secretly pray in a room made especially for us... 

* 

It's warm, pupils - two mirrors of colorful lights on a plastic tree...


www.scripca.com
 

Iolanda Scripca copyright  2010


Copyright © iolanda Scripca | Year Posted 2010

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Unshed Tears

Slice me with your tongue,
Razor blade wounds,
To suck out all my poisens,
Sweet lonely lullaby,
Accusing eyes of sadism,
Picture perfect prodegy, 
My Deadly Sin,
A bitter taste of arson,
Burning in my vital organ,
Your the pyre that burns away my mortality,
A sip of tea made from Lilly of the Valley,
A shadow of Death stalking,
With odd angel like wings,
A Numbing kiss like Drowning in Morphine,
My Oblivion,
Sweet arms to rest in till my vision no longer holds,
Eyes neither like Hell nor Heaven,
Cocain Addiction,
That Drip of Drugs into your system,
Intoxicated blood stream,
I'd rather not dream,
And instead get lost within - Your paralysing,
Your Paralysing, Brain lapse,
Your moving too fast,
Stay slow and dreamy,
Dancing silhoutte,
Like a burning forest fire,
Pain throughout my veins,
Ravishing and Beautiful,
A voice torn from my throat,
Dying joyfully,
With my last sight of you. . .


Copyright © Jay Loveless | Year Posted 2012

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South Africa

Listen to the jazz instrumentals of Masekela,
as you take red wine outside a thatched
shelter in a beach in the Western Cape.

Enjoy a hearty meal of bobotie (meatloaf), 
chakalaka (a spicy vegetable relish),
tomato bredie (a lamb and tomato stew),
potbrood (pot bread), 
melktert ( dessert)......
and other forms of cuisine;
have a siesta in the canvas tents,
then you visit the misty mountains
of the Magoebaskloof.

To feel at one with nature,
visit Limpopo, and get lost in the awesomeness
of sighting elephants, lions, rhinos.....
You'll see baobab trees stretching their branches
to the red, setting sun;
get dazzled by the Limpopo river's majestic
flow to the Indian Ocean.

Introduce yourself to all kinds of dialects and people;
Africans, Dutch, Indians, and Malaysians.
Watch their traditional dances,
and listen to their folklore - it will remind you
we are from the same Womb; Earth.

See Nelson Mandela in people's smiles and way
of doing things in the cities, streets, and towns.

Listen to South Africa's unifying anthem,
as you take a ship back home......





Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2017

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Ocean Pleasure

Social Media is raving about my seafood haven.
Any ocean gift you wish is on my menu list.
It is known for chocolate bliss in any form that exists.
I should not dismiss other desserts that are hits.

Casual, tables are papered well for messy shells.
My wait staff excels in manners and menu intel.
I love that guests linger, even ignore phone ringers!
Causes could be shell-spiced fingers or the singer.

Yes, a nightly classic rock band known as “Remand.”
Built on the boardwalk, lights twinkle from the dock.
Floor space grants all my dining guests the chance
To party down, get lost in dance or pursue romance.

All seafood, chocolate, romance and dancing you want
Awaits your bidding in my oceanfront restaurant.
My relaxed establishment, named ‘Ocean Pleasure’,
Welcomes all to come soon and enjoy its full measure.



... CayCay Jennings
September 30, 2016



Copyright © CayCay Jennings | Year Posted 2016

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BOOKS-MERAKI


My love and my passion is to get lost in a book,
titles alone captivate me and I have to take a look.
They hold pieces of the past and contain mystery,
I enjoy finding out chapters of old, I gain history.

When money is tight, I can travel to various places,
and different cultures emerge and I see new faces. 
I am a hopeless romantic so I read for sure pleasure,
Who knows what I will find? Books are what I treasure.

As a child I endured a tremendous amount of pain,
a beautiful novel gave a hurt girl shelter from the rain.
They allowed me to be or do anything, I became free,
I believe in the written word,it did wonders for me.



Contest: Meraki
Sponsor: Silent One


12-20-17


Copyright © Alexis Y. | Year Posted 2017

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Ballroom Delights

Ballroom Delights We are swept in the whirl of gowns twirling around In the glow of glass lights shining down from each wall While I dance with his hand holding mine, the sweet sound Of the music brings joy to my heart held in thrall. My silk gown flows with glistening colors of blue And I see other ladies in pink and soft white While the lights from above accent folds that imbue Like soft colors of petals in moonglow at night. As we dance on the floor that reflects like a pond The soft shadows of couples revolve like pale ghosts Every sway and each turn move with grace to respond To the magical music enjoyed by their hosts. Up above I now see the most brilliant of glows— Chandelier, like a burst of bright sun rays, hangs high On the ceiling above, arced, with paintings, it shows Luminescence that captures my heart with a sigh. The tall mirrors reflect this most glorious scene As I dance with my lover in graceful wide turns The charm doubles the beauty of all that is seen… While the music plays on…I get lost in return To my feelings of why I am here this sweet night As his arm holds me tighter, to closer embrace My heart beats with the magic of love’s warm delight… We are swept in the whirl of our hearts interlaced. Sandra M. Haight Ballroom Delights ~1st Place~ Contest: Ballroom Delights Sponsor: Isaiah Zerbst Judged: 12/16/2014 ~1st Place~ Contest: One Of Your Best Sponsor: Rob Carmack Judged: 01/07/2016


Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2014

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The Mulberry Tree And its Birds One of Two

A GIFT FOR EVERYONE ESPECIALLY FOR CHILDREN BASED ON A TRUE STORY IMPORTANT NOTE: Now watch a short Video film made by me (placed on my Music Channel on You Tube) based on this Poetic story and enjoy a Great Secret revealed in this short Video Film about India's grand past and about its prosperity and how it was stolen nearly 2500years ago. Use the following URL : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l5dpe5_GRKE The Mulberry Tree & its Birds My Mulberry tree, in its season Used to get loaded With its sweet, Mulberry fruits. To eat these sweet fruits Birds of different colors and species From even far off places Used to come to eat And to play, on its branches. Watching these lovely birds When they eat Its sweet fruits and play Was a joy for the Mulberry Which can, only be felt If you ever see the Mulberry When it is loaded With its fruits and birds In the, season of Shahtoot* . 01 The birds, used to come To stretch, their colorful wings Sometimes, to show their beauty And sometimes, to show their Their affection for the tree, But, when they were In the company, of their friends And soul mates They used to sing, some lovely songs For the Mulberry tree. 02 Seasons come and seasons go The buds of yesterday, becomes A blooming flower of today As, life keep rolling With the change of time But even, in the season of Fast blowing winds The Mulberry tree remains Spreading, its smiles, Like, an innocent child. 03 Only, in the season of falls When it use to shed its leafs The tree, Becomes, sad and lonely For a while. 04 But soon again, the tree Becomes happy and smiling When, birds return And come, to Joy fully play On its, thick and thin branches The game of love and affection While singing, their songs In praise, of the Mulberry tree. 05 Hearing those Lovely sweet voices and Singing of different birds Seems very familiar sometimes But sometimes, They seem so alien To me. 06 It was not easy to understand What, these birds say and sing In their sweet lovely language and words But one thing was clear That they used to tell, The Mulberry tree That they would come again soon To eat, its sweet fruits And to sing songs For that lovely Shahtoot* Full of fruits. 07 Today, while searching and looking Towards that side of the sky Where, the Mulberry tree Used to spread, its smiles Every morning and everyday The birds find only, A blank space in the sky And they go away Sadly from there To some other place In search of a New Mulberry tree. Those colorful birds, Who used to show their presence While, playing and jumping Up and down, when they skip On the branches, Of the Mulberry tree While singing Their sweet lovely Songs, Have almost fled away For some unknown place Forever and forever. 08 Those birds Often, used to get lost In their sweet singing voices And lovely notes Which were very dear To their soul mates . 09 Ravindra Kanpur India 1st November 2013 NOTE: Protected under the copyright provisions of Poetry Soup and US copyrights. To be concluded in 2nd * Shahtoot = Mulberry


Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor | Year Posted 2013

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April's last Flowers



April's last Flowers


I was watching carefully
The last stems 
Of April's Red flowers
Which were spreading their beauty and smile 
Unconcerned with the destiny 
That after April 
There would be almost no such flowers 
Of red Lily
For another one year.01


The flowers were smiling
As if, it makes no difference to them
Whether, they would be here or not
When the hot winds of summer 
Would try to wither and make dull 
The beauty and grace
Of every human face
As often they succeed in withering 
The beauty of flowers and life 
That exits and breath
Without the love drops of life giving water.02


The last flowers of April 
Were also unconcerned 
That they would shrink and would get dried
By the heat and dust of summer
In the days to come 
When the scorching Sun would 
Burn the Earth, Sea and Water
To create the wonders of rains 
For thirty lands and sky of the earth.03


What a great way to live life 
Was prevailing 
In these smiling last flowers of April
Alas! If only humans can understand 
How to live a life with the pleasure of love
And get lost forever 
Without the worries of tomorrows.04


The flowers were enjoying 
Every moment of their existence 
Unconcerned 
With the butterflies and black bees 
Which were hovering on them 
Since day one 
And were trying to please and praise them  
To win their hearts 
Like men praise and please the women
When they want to attract and win their heart. 05
 

The hovering butterflies and bees too
Were trying to show their love 
To all the beautiful flowers of April
Before the alluring beauty of these flowers
So that these alluring flowers  
May allow them to come close and kiss them
In the flowering season of spring.06


Every time these symbols of love
The black bees, butterflies and 
Even the little black tiny bird
Were coming close 
To kiss and to touch the petals of flowers
They were charging with a new energy
After getting the love drops 
From their beloved red flowers
And they were flying 
More and more high in the sky
Perhaps to touch the those lofty heights
Which can only be seen 
When nectar like love drops
Creates its magic on these searching lips
Filling it with the energy of love
Which get reflected in every new flight 
Of these beautiful creatures
When they fly from one flower to another. 07


And I was watching silently
With a Camera in my hand
While witnessing  
The last of these April flowers 
To catch the glimpse of 
Any of these memorable moments.08


Their silent game of nectar and pleasure hunt
Continued in that bright sunlight
As more and more new creatures
Were coming to please and to win their beloved
Standing there with its ravishing beauty 
So that, they may welcome them
With a smile and beauty 
And may allow them to taste 
The nectar of these red beauty and love
Which starts pouring it's magic 
With the approach of April 
In spring every year. 09


Ravindra K Kapoor
Kanpur India 2nd May 

   



Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor | Year Posted 2014

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Maybe The Last Letter

This may be the last letter I write to you; I am so very tired inside, exhausted...as I lay in bed I’m pondering things. When you feel like you're at death’s door, it’s not the things you've done well that matter, it’s the mistakes in life you ponder. To be honest though, if there was only one thing I did right, it was the day I met you. When love finds you, you want to keep it close forever and ever and ever and never let it go. I’m afraid to go to sleep because of the uncertainty of tomorrow, but I need to set my fears aside…so I am writing. I should not be afraid because you are already there, where ever there is, but I do remember trembling at your touch and the sound of your voice; I'm still in love with you and I miss you so very much. My prayer is before I close my eyes that I did not forget something—I know that is silly. I did make the house payment, the dishes are washed, the laundry is done, and yes I took out the trash. I let the girls out to go potty, and made sure they will be taken care of if I don't wake up.  They're sleeping on the floor by my side, they have been staying close to me tonight. So I guess I’ll put down my pen and take my chance at sleep, but if I could have just one wish, I wish I could see your face once again with those beautiful deep blue eyes I used to get lost in. Goodnight my love, maybe we can meet some where tonight, I love you.

Edward J Ebbs - 9/13/2014



Copyright © Edward Ebbs | Year Posted 2014

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The Mystery of the NA

The Mystery of the N/A

I was once really new to our Poetry Soup,
And I knew I should try to join in with the group,
Post some poems to be read and enjoyed by a few,
And then give it a whirl, join a contest or two.

Soon a couple of poems were a win, a good score,
Was on top of the world, so I entered one more…
But to my big surprise when that contest was done
My sad eyes saw in fact that my poem had not won.

Quickly went to My Poems to find it was still there,
And behold, a strange sign near my write, I declare!
An N/A…what was that?  Very weird, was this right?
Could not find what it meant anywhere on the site.

So I looked up N/A on the Internet, but
What I found was not good, left me still in a rut.
This N/A symbolized a long list, now for me,
My head spun to fit in which of these it could be??

   N/A…Not Applicable………Did I not follow rules?
   N/A…Not Available………Did my entry get lost?
   N/A…No Answer………Did they try to call me?
   N/A…Not Authorized………Did I need an okay?
   N/A…No Action………Did I fail to take steps?
   N/A…Negative Approach………Did I say something wrong?
   N/A…Not Analyzed………Should my write be explained?
   N/A…No Acknowledgement………Did I fail to respond?
   N/A…No Account………Did PS lose my file?

I Soup-Mailed the poem judge and her answer therein,
“Well you see, the N/A means your poem did not win”!
Now I still do not know what N/A represents
When your poem doesn't win in Soup contest events!


Sandra M. Haight

~1st Place~
Contest: New or Old 4
Sponsor: Eve Roper
Judged: 08/05/2016

~1st Place~
Contest: The Contest
Sponsor:  Jerry T. Curtis
Judged: 01/10/2015

Anapestic Tetrameter
Anapestic Dimeter (N/A section questions)



Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2014