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Best Growth Poems | Poetry

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

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New Growth Poems

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

Flowering Growth by Saldana, Rene
Trump Lies and Growth Spurt by Horn, James
Room of Growth by Duffy, Alex
But many forget our growth is in darkness by Frank, Mark
ROOM FOR GROWTH by Gauthier, Line
Flower Growth Impedes by Horn, James
BEACH GROWTH by Beck, Sidney
FASHION GROWTH by Walkingshoes , Anderson
MY POETIC GROWTH by Emery, Judy
MY POETIC GROWTH by Emery, Poetic Judy

View all new Growth Poems

The Best Growth Poems

Details | Growth Poem |

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 ***".
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 her curves.
She decided to eat when she was hungry
nourishing and loving her body
she allowed colorful 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 extraordinary ways.

Details | Growth Poem |

Pretty Shoes and Cracked Feet

Once I'm gone 
I'll only be remembered a small while
I'm a tiny tick on a large dial
The words I breathe will stretch about a mile
Even those who are in history books
the Kings writers and famous cooks
The gorgeous people with talent and looks
They too in the end fade away
Don't get me wrong it's all okay
We might try to hold on but none of us can stay
All have a bit part 
on this watery ball of granite and clay

Some are calm others make waves
One smooth skinned another shaves
She loves him while he's attracted to Dave 
They both pretend because they have to behave
Each in their own prison living like a slave
The preacher too plays his part 
trying to find people to save

Some couples love from the start till death
She breathes in he exhales her breath
Their children thrive Bobby and Beth
While some mothers go it alone
Daddies leave and are never known
Children left to learn life from a smart phone

Some chase riches when other just want to eat
Walking on pretty shoes while poor men have cracked feet
The music plays so clearly yet we fail to hear the beat
So I wonder what's it all for
This wanting more and more
Is that really God knocking at our door
Yes it is I believe it at my core
So why do we leave it closed
Maybe because we fear our sins will be exposed
a life manicured and posed 
could be unfroze
Freedom from each prison chose
Instead why not drink from the garden hose
Wear our humanity 
discard these labeled clothes
Count down the future with fingers and toes
Within a momentary breath each spirit goes
As minds open each heart then grows
What happens next only God knows!

Details | Growth Poem |

The Library of Trust and Hope

The Library of Trust and Hope
The Bank of Trust and Hope

(Cant decide on title, so feel free to pick or suggest one)

She was all but four years of age
Birthdays were such magical moments
The cake was filled with candles
The balloons still in their package twelve on the table

Daddy daddy, I can not fill these balloons!!
They are not magic like you said!!!!!
Do not fret Maria, its daddy who is magical
I shall help you little one, let me see those balloons

Sure enough daddy blew up twelve white and pink balloons
Maria was in awe at daddy’s magical powers
She knew her daddy would fight dragons to bring her but a smile
Maria knew she was safe in daddy's arms, oh what a birthday this will be

Maria was now ten years older
Fourteen years old and already filled with so many happy memories
On this fall day, home from school
There was grandpa in the back yard as usual

He was tending his garden of roses
When she was younger, he told her they were magical roses
Grandma would speak to him in his magical garden
From the heavens above


Now at eighteen, daydreaming in a coffee shop
A stranger picks up a rose from an empty table
A smile oozing in charm, stares into her eyes
This is for you, beauty for beauty


She was swept off her feet, in a whirlwind romance
They danced and dined, it seemed all on her dime
Until the morning she awoke, completely alone
Both lover and credit cards did abscond


Now twenty one, and wise to the world
Absorbed in her studies, somewhat colder than one should be for that age
A chilly fall day in an empty library
A stranger comes, giving her a drawing of a red rose

Hello he says! I drew this for you!
Oh no she thinks to herself, not another one!
Politely she smiles and replies thank-you, but I am taken
This stranger smiles right back and says, the drawing is for you no matter

The next week, and the weeks after, the same routine
He comes to her with a drawing of another beautiful rose
She politely declines his advances
Maria knows that a rose, has a stem, and that comes with pricks

The twelfth week and here he is again
What is the poor girl to do?
She is curious, and she can not quite help herself
She asks, from what do you draw such beautiful flowers?

He smiles kindly and replies
How about next week, I show you?
We can have a coffee, and discuss art
Hesitating she just can not say no to this simple gesture of kindness

They are walking along, and surprisingly she finds herself
Quite intrigued with the ease of their conversation
He takes hold of her hand, and says I live over there, the house in red
She has no time to object as he pulls her forward to the backyard

She stares in absolute shock and awe at what appears before her
Why its the most beautiful, wonderful, enchanting English garden she ever saw
You? she stammers, you made this?
He smiles shyly and says; well now you know what inspires my drawings

Now Maria is eighty and filled with both happiness and sadness
Her husband of all these years has passed on
To be with all his precious roses in the heavens waiting
She sits in their garden, remembering a life time of memories

She picks a single rose, and inhales its fragrance
Contemplating the wisdom's of life
I miss you so much my love
You taught me trust is earned and not given
	Your love was my blanket of happiness, wait for me my love, 
		I am yours eternally





Dear Reader

I was lucky in life to have had a good upbringing. My daddy, showered me with love, but most of all he taught me that gifts were not objects, balloons were not magical, nor was he. I learned that what was magical is the time and effort he took to love me, and protect me and those memories I so cherish, but they also he showed me the values I hold dear in myself and those around me. 

Then there was dear old grandpa. His garden was his passion, and I suspect that if I could have had more time to spend with him, it was really grandma’s passion, and after her passing, this was the activity that kept him close to her soul. In that respect, I guess it was truly a magical garden. Whenever he saw me, his eyes would light up, he would pour lemonades and he told me such wonderful stories. Unlike many though, he listened to all my troubles and told me, that in life I had to learn some things the hard way, but that he himself knew for a certainty that I would find the love and happiness, that as a young women, I felt would be lost to me forever.

I re-tell my story for all the people out there that have lost trust in others, or have lost hope in humanity. You may have your heart stolen for awhile, someone can bring you sadness, but never let them steal your soul. Learn that trust is earned, not given, and never punish the rest of the world, for your bad experience, for ultimately it is you who suffers most. Be giving, kind and generous, with a strong will and mind. If someone does not respect you, then they shall never earn your trust, and that’s how it should be. Be wise, be prudent, be safe, but most of all be open to love and kindness

God bless
Maria Sefue

Details | Growth Poem |

The Awakening

POTD 5th Feb 18

Dedicated to Ken, a good friend of mine who had to give up a brilliant ballet, ballroom dancing and stage career when he was injured after a fall while performing a complicated dance routine maneuver on stage. I hope you will enjoy the video too!

Awakened by the sighs of the whispering trees
Looking across the vast empty space he sees

His winged companion pondering in wisdom
Visiting frequently knowing the significance of Freedom

Waltzing through his mind she invades once more
Intruding reflections oppress thoughts that soar

Imprisoned dreams midst fields of unpicked seams
Endless chasms of regrets in which no sunlight beams

Broken chords strumming tunelessly in solitude
Of songs of praises by an adoring multitude

Time when they were darlings of virtuosic impression
Dancing in wild abandon to a public adoration

Truly enamoured in each other their love did blossom
Though in Life’s carousel sadly far too often

Pursuing perfection whatever may befall
One gets absorbed in the fluster of a fall

Adorning false crowns in high esteem
Ego soars and plummets and shatters the dream

Negative energy interrupts Life’s Grand Scheme

The fall

In the drop of a pin - displeasure he perceives
Their past idolising could not now appease

The icy cold rejection she projects as she flees
Leaving a broken man - who has failed to please

For many long years he lays wishing Death’s end
Dwelling on memories of his so called friend

Friends he thought solid who chose to ignore
Even in his whispered words ‘forgive me I implore’

Shunned he was before his knees hit the floor

Long years of solitude one day he awakens
To find that his dark soulless days have forsaken

Terrors of the night have been released - set free
False security dismissed by a Heavenly decree

From an unsuspecting sky all dark clouds flee

Dark night of the soul heralds White light of the self
Perceptions of enlightenment an awakening of himself

From the corner of his eye a movement he detects
A woman of the White Light he strongly suspects

In her iridescent persona to her task she ascends
His vulnerability she sees and her hand she extends

And in a confetti of star showers his heart she mends

POTD 5th Feb 18

Video : 
Dark Night of the Soul - White Light of the Self
Arbre Solaire: Music : Ludovico Einaudi - Nuvole Bianche Video : " Haoma " - ESMA Movies (Mathieu, Melissa, Elodie & Yann) Jan 2018

Details | Growth Poem |

Little Fire

I witness you fading away,
The winds blow frantically
They are against us, as all are

Little fire, rise in my cupped hands
Be it my life I shield from the elements so unfeeling?

Little fire, brighten as I feed you
This moisture receding from my pores must cease
Before I drown this diminishing beauty

I gasp,
Surprised at the howls and retorts of this icy tempest
Nature’s exhalations mean to end what must naturally end
My hands shake
Little fire—my life!
—I must keep you alive!

Grow against all odds
Against the screaming whirlpools of bluster
Against the torrential tears that mean to overcome you
Against the ashes that can only watch the desolation around you,
As you search for more fuel to masticate

My flesh is no treasure to me,
So lick me deep, my flame
Devour these hands that shield you
Rise hastily, as you burn
 Ascending up my arms,
Lighting every goosebump, shriveling every hair
Rise till I am all aflame in this wilderness
Boil and evaporate every murderous tear—
The fluids of sorrow that so pulverize purpose
Eat through every sinew, and every tissue,
Every muscle and every bone that has grown
 For this moment and this moment only

I give you every piece of me, little fire!
So that my spirit, finally free, shall rise to the heavens
Past the shrieking winds, preceding through the jeers of thunder
I give you my all, blessed fire!
So that these eyes may witness every storm die 
And I may laugh at their futility!

Details | Growth Poem |

Starlit Diva

My mind has wings and wants to fly
into galaxies where stars streak.
Aloft on whispers and a sigh
a hint of stardust on my cheek.

Into galaxies where stars streak
astral winds golden gives me flair,
a hint of stardust on my cheek
starlit  d i v a  with solar hair.

Astral winds golden gives me flair
through cosmic currents I do wing.
Starlit  d i v a  with solar hair
enjoying my celestial fling.

Through cosmic currents I do wing
aloft on whispers and a sigh.
Enjoying my celestial fling,
my mind has wings and wants to fly.



~ 4th Place ~
Contest: End July Premiere 2017
Sponsor: Brian Strand


Susan Ashley
July 23, 2017

Details | Growth Poem |

One World

Love is not a color,
No hue, neither a race.
All of our blood is the same, 
That runs deep within our veins.

If we could lift up each other,
And know that we all care.
If we help our sisters and brothers,
There's a bond that we'll share.








©2013 Honestly JT

Details | Growth Poem |

The Late Blooming Iris

Lately I have paused, pondering death
But I'm not fit for it's journey yet.

It's not that I loathe meeting death's kind
It will be, for me, an experience of a lifetime.

I've had one stupendous, lovely, awesome gift
A second chance at life I could not resist.

So tell me this... who's thinking of dying?
I am the rainbow. Rain falls, next, I'm smiling.


Lately I have paused, pondering death
But it's out of my hands, my stem's length and breath.

All I have been, isn't all that I am
I've taken a stand to let The Source guide my hands.

I can claim to be a calico, carved by nine lives
Again, and again, I rise with clearer eyes.

I'd assume any form my Maker shapes me to use
Would I be excused, if in your haven I refuse?

I am a flower, even in winter
Even in winter, I am a flower.

*

Details | Growth Poem |

TO and FROM

---Everyday---


If I had only one gift
I'd give it to you
In hopes, you pass it along
With a Smile

*******

Sharing is Caring
The True Meaning :)

Details | Growth Poem |

Call it love

The night it is barren
from inland to the sea
but I am the one who loves you
you are not alone.

Tonight the sky is empty
stars fall in the sea
I am the light to guide you
do not wish to be alone.

If the world becomes deserted
all eyes you see are sad
I will smile for you
you will never be alone.
 
Sleeping I dreamed you
awake I keep dreaming
I dream because you love me
and I am not alone.

It is sometimes madness
a longing absentee
call it love
and we are not alone...

Details | Growth Poem |

White Wolf And The Raven

Rest yourself, my white wolf friend
Take your time, until we hunt again

You've filled you belly, as I have mine
We have much time, until next we dine

Then tis I, who will take to the skies
Yes once more, I will be your eye's

I'll spy a creature, then lead you there
Where you'll snarl, white teeth you'll bare

You'll fight our foe, to provide our need
Fresh dead carcass, from which we feed

When seen together, it seems so rare
But that makes us,such an odd pair

So rest yourself my wolf, of fur so white
Soon my black feathers, will again take flight

10/18/17

contest;Could you please
sponsor;Broken Wings

Details | Growth Poem |

Finding Ones Self

Some who wish to find their true self, fearfully resist becoming lost.




... CayCay Jennings
December 14, 2017

Details | Growth Poem |

Absolute Truth

Absolute Truth

What’s in a word that fades away in time?
Seldom heard like a masqueraded mime
What’s in a name that hides in the shadows?
Of feverous fame where poets compose

May we speak of love this echoing eternal bliss?
Be it weak in silence and deepen with a kiss
For love has many ships set sail to heaven’s shore
Thus never ready for what it has to explore

It changes faces right before our effervescent eyes
With its traces left behind admits the guilty guise
But love a constant the ethereal glue of the infinite
For in its content we know little of the magnificent

In its Omni purpose beyond our comprehension
There burns a furnace of emotions in each dimension
We think we know it all but there is much to learn
For within our fall we will always youthfully yearn

We are born out of love and defenseless desire
Mourning death with love amongst the angels' choir
Love the only absolute in the seasons of the abyss
For we are en route for the active soul to reminisce.



...dedicated to Heidi Sands for her Love and courage...plus constant support...

...Music by Sheriff~'when I'm with you'...


June.04.2018
Active Soul and Mankind's Self-righteousness
Sponsored by: Catie Lindsey

Details | Growth Poem |

I Did It My Way

I Did It My Way


I did it my way, not for the applause but because,
failure was not an option and I became a rebel with a cause.
I wanted higher education and was told I couldn’t have it all,
so I had to prove them wrong even if I had to creep or crawl.

I was accused of having a stubborn streak,
just because I wasn’t mild and meek.
Challenging every obstacle placed in my way,
and all the negative things that people had to say.

In spite of all the “You can’t do that,” that I was told,
I stubbornly did it my way and confidently smashed the mold.
Marching to a different drummer and dancing to my own tunes,
I kept my eyes on the prize ignoring all the nay-saying buffoons.         

To keep on track, I learned to juggle tasks knowing I wouldn’t be derailed.
To keep my ducks in a row, I learned to haggle knowing I wouldn’t fail.
With dedication and hard work, as sure as night follows day,
success was mine because I certainly did it my way!


06-07-2014

Contest:     I Did It My Way
Sponsor:    Shadow Hamilton
Placement: 1st

Details | Growth Poem |

Paranoid love

Tell me that this fear is just paranoia in my mind, 
we're not straining, we're not struggling, 
we're not sinking, we're just fine. 
I'm not perfect my dearest, but damn have I tried, 
and I'll try harder but I know I'll have the same results every time. 
Do you want me all the ways that I am? 
With all the struggles and the tears and the clinging to your hand. 
I fear your getting further and Im left on the shore to stand, 
watching you in the distance with a bullet in my hand. 
Tell me all this worry, its just clutter in my mind, 
tell me not to worry that we're doing just fine. 
Cause Im scared to run you off and I feel Im falling deep. 
And Im so frightened of these thoughts that its getting hard to sleep.
All I know is that the heart wants what it desires, 
because of you the match inside has turned into a fire. 
And I feel the broken glass thats sticking from my skin, 
Wondering if you'll remove the pain or push it back in. 
My hearts frantic wondering if you feel the same, 
pleading and begging for more than just a saying, 
but to feel and to see that im not alone, 
with being in this love thats overwhelming. 
Once I told you that we didnt have a spark, 
but you were lighting up and I was sitting in the dark. 
And this fire, this blaze its wrapped in desire. 
Im terrified to lose you, I think I might die or, 
maybe disappear from all the pieces falling out, 
im going crazy but when i open my mouth, nothing comes out, 
and I cant explain to you why I just need to hold you close, 
why every time you leave Im scared to let you go, 
why these tears are building up behind my eyes, 
all I know is that the heart wants what it desires 
and it desires to be your wife. 
So tell me in my panic, that your words are true, 
tell my my dearest what I mean to you, 
tell me that this paranoia is all within my mind 
we're not struggling, we're not sinking tell me we're just fine

Details | Growth Poem |

Black Diamond

On the border of the obscure wastelands,
In the depths of shadows and torments,
Far beyond the land of Never Was, Never Will
Is a place where I hold you, strong and silent…
As the shards of your sensitive sadness prevail,
Sifting the awaiting coals below,
I shall reflect slivers of your light upon the darkest woe!

I fight with the broken alliance within the dimmest coves,
I mean to pull you into Death’s demise
Where the pained poets prevail and the suns of justice arise
So that e’en the coldest of coals reach warmth!
Generating power so strong, that the gods step aside
As these diamonds-to-be burst into the light of day
Revealing your words of Always Was… and Always Will
The Black Diamond, once captive…finally free…though coal black still!

For Shadow Hamilton's Contest: Fighting Depression(poems for PD)
12/7/14

Details | Growth Poem |

Spring Forward

A helical "Slinky" type coil
Compresses or springs without toil,
It’s spiral at times,
Or stretched to the nines...
Like worms that are happy in soil!

Beneath or on top of the ground,
They stretch, but so often lie wound,
Their tunnels air earth
To make healthy dirt
And seedlings are glad they’re around!


© Sandra M. Haight 2015 
   All Rights Reserved

~2nd Place~
Contest: Spring Forward
Sponsor: Debbie Guzzi
Judged: 03/09/2015

Details | Growth Poem |

Better days

                Better days
Is all good 
To hope for
 The better days
But is there 
Actually better days
Without making today 
The best

Oh better days
Can't be without
The best of today

Better days
Too many knees on the
Ground
Too many heads kissing
The floor
Too many hands 
with ten fingers
Together straight up
Like a triangle
In deferent pulpits
Deferent temples
All to one just
Praying and hoping
To god
For only the 
Better days

Oh better days
Can't be without 
The best of today

Better days
Too many questions
I ask myself
Too many places I
Go 
Like I see life's 
As they live in darkness
While they keep
Hoping for the 
 Better Days
Some believe 
The better days only 
Exist After life
With their religion
While a kind 
Like me live 
the better days
Now with love

Oh better days
Can't be with out
The best of today

Better days
What make a day 
Better than another
How can we hope 
For tomorrow
While we waste today 
Away with our ignorance
Oh live every day with
Love and you will
Always have the best of
The day
With love 
each day is better and 
Better 
Here you will always have
A 
Better days

Oh better days 
Can't be with out
The best of today

Better days
Love yourself 
As you love another
Love what you do
Do what you love
Believe in yourself
For you and your image
Is god
Their is no god but you 
And all around you
Love nature respect
Humanity 
Live not with greed 
For your soul not 
To be lost to vanity 
On and on
Above all
Love life for
Life is love
Love is life
As you live with 
This principles 
You always live
Now as each
New day comes a
Better days

Oh better days
Can't be with out
The best of today

Details | Growth Poem |

Growing Old and Brittle

To wake up with the rising sun
Wishing me old bones stay in bed
No longer do I feel to run
Life is all but over and done

I look in the mirror feeling blue
Front teeth no more, leak like a canoe
Getting old, this is no fun
Spending my days inside, away from the sun

Ricky called, hey Arty lets go out
Sorry Ricky, I am too old for that
Ah come on Arty lets go to the park
Leave me alone Ricky I am staying right here in the dark

Ricky was persistent, come on arty the park the park the park
Art replied, I am old now I don’t do parks!
Why not? It’s a sunny day; we always have fun at the park
Cant, Stevie told me, I am too old to go out and play

Why he said I am too old for toys and my trucks
I am too old to play even with the ducks
I didn’t wanna be old but there you have it
Stevie says I am one big sissy with my toys!

Ricky, not to be deterred
Come on man, I love toys too 
Lets go the park, come on come on
You are only seven years old Arty!

I feel older Ricky and missing all these teeth
No one will want to play with me, no one at all
I do Arty! lets go, besides haven’t you heard the news?
Seven years old why that’s the new five!

Details | Growth Poem |

TRUE LOVE SAILED OVER SEAS

TRUE LOVE SAILED OVER SEAS

Have I met trouble when I met your ocean eyes
for beneath that steady gaze, I reach the highest sky?
Slothful moon turned grey, so the stars: tired and pale
when I behold your white angelic grace. . .

Distant and unfamiliar you may seem,
I wasn't afraid to run, run and catch your gleam
without a guarantee of us becoming one,
still, I pursue to behold you, my woman.

I am no Romeo nor you are not Juliet
but allow me to prove, I love immaculate...
Hundred miles and hundred days we may separate,
yonder, seasons change, my heart to you, I dedicate.

Overseas, each time the ship reach the shore,
immediately like thunder, I trip to the door
for me to send my love letter or find a phone
excited I am, the opportunity, I don't postpone!

Pity at that time, no internet or cellphones yet
so the instant a signal peeps, it's you, I first check.
My ears blush and so I am in fever love 
each time our exchange of thoughts began.

Then again while we talk, sometimes, the signal fret,
or without proper warning our chats end to wreck.
Coins gone and so time on shore is done, again I want to dial
My sunshine smile not turning to the river Nile...

My heart on somersaults when they hand me your letter 
like a little boy with his favorite toy, I keep it near my chest
awhile I am on reversed cardiac arrest, I confess.
Winter feeling I have blown and within is a summer weather,

ten months or a year in the middle of the sea
with only your letters and photo I kiss, I, in jubilee!
Years passed, I came home and  I search your address,
my intentions of wanting to marry you, I will express.

Your parents, unsure of me, they probe too much.
How many women I touched-- I gone to bed with
for am a sailor, they thought to any girl I resort,
I was stunned but I remain calm and quiet

as I know myself, loyal to you and no one else.
I tried to woo them and prove, my only love is you.
God must have blessed us-- as their stone heart melt,
a year later, my dream of being your husband came true.

_____________________________________________________________ 
©O. E. Guillermo
 07:42 pm, January 19, 2015

Details | Growth Poem |

Pessimist or Optimist


When young I heard the glass was either ½ empty or ½ full
But with time I learned… to believe either one makes you a fool

My health made me battle from the almost empty place
But I came to see that… your life is not a glass or a race

I always worked to fill my cup to the ½ full point… and beyond
To compare my life to others always made the pessimist spawn

Optimist or pessimist is more than some kind of… point of view
They are each an integral part of what makes you… you

The pessimist is a part of everyone’s make up… that can make us give up
The optimist is an acquired trait… that has to be constantly built upon

Fight the pessimist who can bring you nothing but sadness and despair
Nurture the optimist that gives you the chance… to do and go anywhere

The optimist can give you self-respect and the chance to do great things
It can make your heart and your soul soar… and to grow great wings

It’s a way of life that can add to your existence and also others 
Which way of life, you cultivate, says how much, you’ll see of life’s wonders

You see: Your cup is never ½ empty or ever ½ full… Life is a work in progress
So never give up… Look for ways, in this world, to bless

And why let anything stop you? It is a hard fight, to some times win...
But will be very gratifying… if you keep trying… until the end.

Written by Carol Eastman 11-7-2015

Details | Growth Poem |

Grow

A dream can grow in the darkest places,
even when others lay shattered and dead,
no matter how long and twisted the roots,
dreams can still grow when tears are shed.

It will flower out of the muddy ground,
no matter how impossible it may seem,
and vine and wind around the stoney paths,
as it flourishes to chase the sunbeam.

A dream can grow from almost anywhere,
stunted only by what imagination can feed,
the vision becomes planted deep in the mind,
and will live when your heart is the seed.

Details | Growth Poem |

A Single Soul Cries Out

A Single Soul Cries Out

Across this barren lake my ghost did sail
 lost and heading straight into another hell
Behind, remnants of a dark and wayward past
 treasures stored that shall never last

Sunny skies ever looking down upon me
 joined by those memories soul sought to flee
No wind to send my ghost sailing right along
 on the shore images of a faceless throng

So far ahead a welcoming sandy white beach
 forever racing farther and farther from my reach
No deeds to perform to gain my deep reprieve
 only memories of those I so easily did deceive

Within this lonely lake a single Soul cries out
forgive me , forgive me  , in a wailing shout!

Robert Lindley

note: Once a man raced about all alone, 
stumbled upon a rolling stone,
fell into a headlong dismay,
gathered the courage to just pray,

Words that did by faith then atone,
soon the condemnation was forever gone..

Details | Growth Poem |

Paradise Leaving Not A Trace

Paradise Leaving Not A Trace


I took the last picture off the wall
 then my broken heart started to bawl
 on the floor lay your broken vows
 fat they lay like bloated cows

The love sworn by your sacred heart
 flipped over like an apple cart
 the corner lay three mismatched shoes
 I sit here , lonely, cryin' da blues

I took that picture and held it tight
 sad memories of our fightin' last night
 you spat upon my deep, deep remorse
 grieved as you beat on that dead horse

I saw dear hope entered my heart today
 I saw a picture that reminded me of you
 the pretty girl had your perfect eyes
 sun shining so like you in her skies

Tell me just one more time how you care
 lie to me even if it is an oath unfair
 whisper gasps of our sex-filled nights
 baby, please forget those recent fights

Lets hang the pictures back on the walls
 lock the doors, not take any damn calls
 undress as we rush into mad, mad embrace
 stay in that paradise leaving not a trace

Robert J. Lindley, 06/21/1976

This was my last poem written to her before my first wife and I finally 
divorced. I had my best friend deliver it. He said she threw it into the 
garbage can and told him to tell me to go jump into a lake. Next morn I 
knocked on the door there, her mother answered. I asked for my poem back 
from the garbage can, she got it and gave it to me! I have it still with dried 
food stains on the last stanza.
I keep it to remind me that too late is a damn terrible place to ever be!!! This 
is the first time I have  ever shared it with anybody since she never even read 
it. 
I hope you may like it , for it shows that young fools
 suffer too. And often rightly so...

Details | Growth Poem |

My end is now

When I was growing up,
Daily they packed my outgrown:
Shoes, shirts,suits and trousers;
And paid me commendation
As they milled around me
Like night ants around light!

When I was geisha-guy
And my frame was fame
And my gaiety  was deity
Oh they milled around me
Like day ants around rose

When worker I was
And my table was the host
To all that delighted belly 
Oh they rounded me about
Applauded me with their belch
After my grain and grape.

Now my hairs are white
And my frame is gone
My teeth have left
Sight is dim, hearing is poor;
How quick they dessert me
Like a cinema after the show.

It is home alone
As they call me demented
The brats that once me hailed
No one to tell goodbye
Sad today I must go
My end is now.