Best Human Poems | Poetry

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

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New Human Poems

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

Human Club by Warren, Paul
The Human Body by Rigoler, Maurice
Human Foibles by Talbot, Mick
Senryu on Human Foibles by Canerdy, Janice
Human heart can be by Marjan, Sheikh Shadi
Human Beings by Johnson, Jesu
Human Nature by Kingston , Wayne
Human Race by Van Riel, Faith
Just Human by Aguilar Jr., Todd
Save Humankind From Human Madness by sensele, john

View all new Human Poems

The Best Human Poems

Details | Human Poem | Create an image from this 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


Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2017


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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








Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2015


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A Tulip Grows Under An Evergreen - Inspired By The Poets At PoetrySoup


A
fine
Parrot Tulip
in vibrant intensities 
with unique undertones
of green acquirable only in a 
few forests. A ruby red swirls within 
its petals beckons awareness of those very 
strokes that live in the lustre of your shapely lips 
like fantasy realized. Mirthful yellows in all those lacquers 
barely ever seen as one would scorch their eyes to gaze lastingly 
directly at the Sun - though I have been fortunate to witness identical 
iridescence in strands of your hair you unintentionally flip and like dainty 
fingers wave me on to move closer to your flawless frame - memorized easily.
A 
special 
fuchsia sparingly 
paints the flower they
say exists only in certain 
singular gemstones yet l know
this tincture for I have seen it in your 
cheeks when we play and laugh. Oh your 
laugh how it fills me - replacing noise surfing
the waves of sound in the surrounding atmosphere.
How enchanting when your laughter there - dwells to
tickle molecules invisible to the eyes but felt by the human
heart. Parrot tulips with their soft myriad shades become stunning 
against a deep black backdrop which shimmers bright like your ebony eyes. 
Sparkle like your smile and I grin happily just thinking of you, just thinking of us.
A 
pearl
white that also 
adorns the flower a 
special light effect I have
found in your complexion - dazzles
my mind each and every time I see you.
Parrot tulips a miracle of nature, a special
breed I admit are as remarkable as any offering 
that grows in our gardens but rarer still - you the flower 
I share my life with. No one, no thing, no life compares to you,
your approach - for every time I even think of you, the joy it brings
completes the meaning of my existence full. If not for you no other delight 
would have that extra zest I feel from the sharing of your love and light always.
A
Parrot
tulip oh 
what joy it
brings. How the flower
draws these words from
me. Ironic how true allure felt
fills our glass so I thought I'd share
with you how it uplifts my days - knowing
confident in our love as one - you'd never resent
me speaking of an elegance other than yours. So you may 
know - understand what the fibres of ones constitution compels 
them to write. Now - about a mystique other than the one you sport with
humility. Finally I have written a poem on aesthetics that does not mention you.
A
closing
monologue.
Just above and 
beneath the dirt grows 
riches unimaginable. Made to 
be absorbed by senses recognizable 
only by a few. They are free for the taking.
An appreciation, a love of a natural essence.
A flower, a person, romance you breathe incomparable
to anything real or imagined.  It alone are the wings we humans 
seek...as real and as precious as all else consumable. How lucky I 
am the magic handed out daily on these pages. The people I could never
find anywhere else then here. I am in love with their words in love with them.


the   re    frain       
is a  par    r               a 
ot  tu lip                m
hid   d                a
en u                j
   n             e
   d           s
   e         t
   r      i 
   c    
   e
    v
     e
     r
    g
   r
 e
 e
n
earthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearth
r  r r  r
 o   o   oo
o      o o   o
    t      tt     t 
  s      s   s      s
r r        r   r
o  o    o        o
o  o        o   o
t      t          t     t
s   s        s       s




April 27 2015
The Gardener





Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2015


Details | Human Poem | Create an image from this poem.

No such thing as forever

We all arrive alone naked and vulnerable,
crying our eyes out, not knowing -
this is the first day of the rest of our life.
I guess the saddest thing in life is we have to grow up.

As children we live in a bubble,
gazing at lost stars - wondering which one is ours.
Not realising the impact of our childhood,
until we are adults and it is too late.

We jump in puddles, laughing at splashing sounds,
some even learn to place their coats over them.
Some swim within shark infested waters,
but only a few learn how to build bridges over them.

I have embraced the power of silence,
but some have succumb to it.
I guess it is all about the quality of it,
especially for those who struggle to listen. 

There has been many a rose that has bloomed,
but every single one crumbled into dust.
Even the one whose thorns pierced lacerations
through hearts of stone - yet the heart healed.

Many birds arrived echoing sweet symphonies,
yet there have been those that flew away in silence.
Especially the silent nightingale who sat in solitude,
whose lyrics my heart still yearns to feel.

I've seen many a ship arrive at my shore,
but each one unloaded and sailed away.
It was me who removed their anchor
and smiled as they sailed into the distance.

As tumours poison our existence  - I ponder;
will the human race survive earth's demise?
When death arrives we all leave alone empty handed,
not knowing that was the last day of our life.

I recall Freddie Mercury's famous lyrics... 
Who wants to live forever....   Anyway.

Silent One
Simple Musings
19 June 2018


Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2018


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Hidden Treasures

Listen to poem:
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * s * * * * * * * * * * * t * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * s t a r s * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * r * * * * * * * * s * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * A fine Parrot Tulip in vibrant intensities with unique undertones of green acquirable only in a few forests. A ruby red swirls within its petals beckons awareness of those very strokes that live in the luster of your shapely lips like fantasy realized. Mirthful yellows in all those lacquers barely ever seen as one would scorch their eyes to gaze lastingly directly at the Sun - though I have been fortunate to witness identical iridescence in strands of your hair you unintentionally flip and like dainty fingers wave me on to move closer to your flawless frame - memorized easily. A special fuchsia sparingly paints the flower they say exists only in certain singular gemstones yet l know this tincture for I have seen it in your cheeks when we play and laugh. Oh your laugh how it fills me - replacing noise surfing the waves of sound in the surrounding atmosphere. How enchanting when your laughter there - dwells to tickle molecules invisible to the eyes but felt by the human heart. Parrot tulips with their soft myriad shades become stunning against a deep black backdrop which shimmers bright like your ebony eyes. Sparkle like your smile and I grin happily just thinking of you, just thinking of us. A pearl white that also adorns the flower a special light effect I have found in your complexion - dazzles my mind each and every time I see you. Parrot tulips a miracle of nature, a special breed I admit are as remarkable as any offering that grows in our gardens but rarer still - you the flower I share my life with. No one, no thing, no life compares to you, your approach - for every time I even think of you, the joy it brings completes the meaning of my existence full. If not for you no other delight would have that extra zest I feel from the sharing of your love and light always. A Parrot tulip oh what joy it brings. How the flower draws these words from me. Ironic how true allure felt fills our glass so I thought I'd share with you how it uplifts my days - knowing confident in our love as one - you'd never resent me speaking of an elegance other than yours. So you may know - understand what the fibers of ones constitution compels them to write. Now - about a mystique other than the one you sport with humility. Finally I can not write a poem on aesthetics that does not mention you. A closing monologue. Just above and beneath the dirt grows riches unimaginable. Made to be absorbed by senses recognizable only by a few. They are free for the taking. An appreciation, a love of a natural essence. A flower, a person, romance you breathe incomparable to anything real or imagined. It alone are the wings we humans seek...as real and as precious as all else consumable. How lucky I am the magic handed out daily on these pages. The people I could never find anywhere else then here. I am in love with their words in love with them. barkbarkbarkbarkbark barkbarkbarkbarkbark barkbarkbarkbarkbark barkbarkbarkbarkbark barkbarkbarkbarkbark barkbarkbarkbarkbark barkbarkbarkbarkbark barkbarkbarkbarkbark earthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearth the refrain is a parrot tulip hidden under f this majestic a evergreen e with a l dew f d a r e o l p s t e m earthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearthearth r r r r o o o o o o o o t t t t s s s s


Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2016


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No thunder without lightning

Lightning rarely strikes without thunder,
causing havoc in gloomy skies.
Humans can't control their plunder,
seeking shelter until the storm dies.

Once, I was your prince - full of charm
and you my willing Cinderella.
Kept you safe from storms that could harm,
just like a human umbrella.

We danced from spring until the fall
and laughed so much, until you cried.
Now here I stand, trying to recall,
that exact moment the music died.

Those eyes of soft chocolate brown,
gleamed with your sweet tender smile.
Now all you seem to do is frown,
and even a glance seems like a trial.

Its been such a long time
since my kiss made those lips quiver,
and my hands didn't commit a crime,
but now my touch makes you shiver.

To unlock those sad songs in your mind,
I couldn't sing the correct lyrics.
Still the right words, I struggle to find
as I love you, doesn't raise your spirits.

As our love begins to rot,
regret plants seeds of discontent.
Yet my love remains, but yours does not,
as you lose yourself in malcontent.

How ironic as you walk away,
the radio plays our special song.
I don't have the strength to make you stay,
after all, it would only be wrong.

Your ghost will linger in the gust
with memories that wish to remain.
When bridges burn, ashes turn to dust,
its difficult to erase this pain.

Silent One
Simple Musings
21 August 2017




Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2017


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Playing Human

Introducing: Nate & Linda

The smile on my lips
is forced and coerced
I pretend to pay attention
give the best possible advice
everyone praises me
I'm so kind, polite and nice
It's all just automation
I rarely actually listen
certainly don't care
all I'm doing
is playing human
blending in
fitting in
I'm so perfectly hidden
you'll never even
see a curtain, 
   from where I stand
   Majoring in social events
   Put on a pedestal
   for computing with you
   I'm so perfectly hidden 
   smiling from time to time
   Labeling those 
   with all sincerity
   open soldiery  
   Passing along an appeal
   continuing to fit in
   blend in
   pretend
   force program 
   Is it just me or
   am I the perfect human?

~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015


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WALLPAPER

WALLPAPER

---------------------
Paper Thin
Cut down to any size,
Crumble, crop me wrong 
Pull the insulation from my heart.
Never will I be "A Paper Doll!"
Thank you for calling me a "Friend!"
Thank you for wasting  my "time!"
Enjoy the WALLPAPER display
---------------------

Layers and layers of lifeless brick
KEEPS EVERYTHING OUT! 
Emotional poster boards of doubt 
Envious fiberglass green never seen
Yuletide Carols warped around my energy
Merry and full of acrylic sh!t-
Hand full of putty maintains the makeup on my face
Arts and crafts display my inner fancy grace
Heavy installed Sheetrock so easily replaced

Tough paint chips away silently through the night
Rigid boards transform into fragile crystal light
The greatest illusion blinding reality 
Smooth Tiger Skin, texture of orange simple peel  
Beautiful mud swirl, L'Oreal.
Gypsum soft enough you want to touch

Dark walls of a thousand words
A plasterboard of discordant grey notes
Blots and clots of ink, enslave my skin  
Colorless drywall, resilient to your charms  

Printed designs of cleverly decorated lipstick 
Morbid shadows underneath the ceiling veil
A double coat of Pacific Waterproof Blue-
Printing bags from -- YESTERDAY!

Plastered wounds of cement dry and roughens along the edge
A human-made barrier, not even God comes in.

by;PD


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013


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Best Man

It has been 9 months since your sudden disappearance.

That Hallowed night when your 5’11” nerd aura
Handed me my early birthday gift
A cold shoulder wrapped in a velvet bow
Made in Sri Lanka, sold exclusively at the Dollar Store

That was your appraised value.

But, today, revival’s whisper enters my gently waxed earlobes.

Candy coated revelations
For my allergic blood

“I said yes!”, as she flashed Cracker Jack ring
Filled with Monopoly dollar signs and “Go directly to Jail” Chance cards

I almost applauded, my hands sarcastically never connected
While my eyeballs rolled in epileptic banter

We scream in misguided nerd joy 
As if we witnessed Monty Python & Darth Vader having a make-out session

Sudden urges to watch movies about Traveling Pants & Sisterhood
And PSing my I Love You
While we eat Dark Chocolate Klondike bars and Chipwich Ice Cream Cookies
My ovaries were bursting with INSANITY’S JOY!

But, WAIT, I quickly realized I didn’t have such parts!

It was then, reality crashed
As if Spider Man ran out of web during mid-air leap

My essence now halts at crossroads’ throat.

To my left, “celebration”
To my right, “other”

I chose to be a human this night.

Current time- 9:15pm
Current location- Reception Hall

A 5 course meal,
Including dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets
Smiley face French fries
And 3 glasses of Tang
Surrounded my space on the dinner table

Heavenly echoes of forks & glass,
Ringing in ignorant unison,
Give birth to Tinnitus in my drums

In their 9 months of togetherness,
They kiss with forcible ease,
Frogs refusing to show their true form

It is then, ignoring listless stares from guests,
I stood up holding my half-empty Tang glass
Which MIGHT have contained a smidge of Grey Goose

At the TOP of my LUNGS,
I whispered.

“Friend, I should be so proud of you. I would. I could. You never responded to my open-hearted palm. You left my vulnerabilities dangling at half-mast, as if I lost our final game of Hang Man. But, TONIGHT, it is I & this delicious Dinosaur nugget that will HAVE a final say! You are impeccably flawed, like I. But, I still wanted you to be a part of my tomorrows. Yet, you turned me into a muted yesterday. So, I will wish congratulations on your new slav…um, husband, Pouring this glass of yummy Tang onto this stapled dance floor in a straight line Each drop will be a symbol of how many tears he will shed, before that line is crossed.”
As silence slapped each other in its face Across candle flame blanketed, marble dance hall, With children pointing & laughing hysterically, “Security” enters the room As I hold hands with Cuban female rent-a-cop, her head warming my shoulder, “Thank you for these 9 months. For now, I have given birth to a new me. The Best Man that you will never hold again.” ©Drake J. Eszes


Copyright © Drake Eszes | Year Posted 2013


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Fifty-Three Shades Of Grey

in the uncoloured tint of another everyday amongst the spit polished waxed apples tightly packed in burlap bags they walked like minded in their own burly wrap oblivious to the irony to their similarity of the markets round red fruit unaware of the tragedy the horror of events yet to come it will rain metal shrapnel as human minds grasp with the purpose of their existence as in their ignorance they understand their worth as human bombs with a belief the heavens will open the gates with a fanfare and a promised blessing for their divine act of unquestioned belief the clay shaped bricks the black iron metal stairs the drum sound of engines then the lull not after but before before the pulse of the storm the rain of death yet this moment captured this photograph with man and child in hand smells sweet you wonder bemused why? the world travels aimlessly singularly no one nothing in the universe suggests exposes even a hint even a glimpse not a clue that would lead reveal an answer. life in its contradiction like the proverbial apple offers both the miracle the curse.
09/23/2014


Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014


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H Stands For Human Resources


                                 The Scarlet Letter H



Two Windows                    The Bridge                           Thomas Gordon                                                       

You could tell,                                                                  He was an older man
You knew,                                                                        With a nice smile.
One beside the other.                                                        He was always
They were, dressed                                                           Impeccably dressed,
In sheer outfits...                                                              Impeccably groomed.
One beige, One tan                                                           So when it happened,
Both stripped                                                                   When everyone
identically.                                                                       Heard it happened,
They had,  they have,                                                       They were shocked.
Identical panes.                                                                His peers liked him,
Every moment                                                                  His peers respected 
Of every day                                                                     Him. His demeanour
They looked at,                                                                 Never changed.
The same identical                                                            The company was 
Outdoor scene.                                                                 Downsizing.
Every moment                                                                  Thomas Gordon was 
Of every day                                                                     Deemed redundant.
They looked at,                                                                 He gathered
The same identical                                                            His belongings
Indoor scene.                                                                   Left  immediately, 
I suppose                                                                         Without a word to
one could say                                                                   Anyone. thirty five 
At least one was,                                                              Years of his life
                 It takes a clear thought - a 360% forensic inspection
                 A battle well fought, to get to an accurate conclusion 
At least one is,                                                                  Ended abruptly. The
Redundant. But,                                                                Next day everyone
If you looked deeper                                                          Read about him on
These two identical                                                            The front page of the
Windows                                                                           Newspaper. He was
Were, are far from,                                                            Trending on the 
Redundant.                                                                       Internet. so when it 
When you opened                                                              Happened when
Both windows                                                                    Everyone heard...
And only when                                                                   He did not go 
BOTH were opened                                                             Directly home.
An amazing                                                                        On that fateful day
phenomenon occurred                                                        Thomas Gordon ran 
A natural, soothing,                                                            Into a burning home.
Refreshing, necessary,                                                        He saved two lives
Breeze, filled the room.                                                       Without a thought 
Oxygen to breathe                                                              For his own welfare.
They were, They are                                                           Apparently
Two windows.                                                                     Mr. Gordon
Identical?- Yes!                                                                   Was anything
But redundant?...,                                                               BUT redundant.

 

September 4 2015
Armand


Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2015


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Hero

In a world where hearts ignore compassionate cries. Acts of kindness become rare, so empathy dies. As human nature loses the skill to listen, his mission is to help every smile to glisten. He needs no theme song to introduce his name, nor has a desire to reach Hollywood fame. No x-ray vision nor bionic power, he can't read minds nor move the Eiffel tower. His tongue is an olive branch forming peaceful words, most beautiful soul whose heart can conquer swords. When sorrow calls and heartache leaves the mind in knots, his sincere voice will calm those tormented thoughts. The tenderness of his fingertips will soothe dark scars, as the heart heals, it will illuminate like stars. He sees no difference between a dove or pigeon, his humble heart spreads love like a religion. He is not the sandman, but he can help bring dreams, he has no halo, but his love flows like streams. His life is like a cherry blossom bud full of grace, a butterfly who doesn't belong in this place. In his quest he sacrifices his own pain, aware his emotions are like sandcastles in rain. He knows death awaits, but his empathy bleeds, continuing to inspire, ignoring his own needs. The Silent One 18 November 2017
Example for HERO contest


Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2017


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Tears to Weep

When I lay me down to sleep,
And cry the tears that sinners weep;
To speak the words of a contrite prayer,
And know that someone listens there.

He cares for sheep that have gone astray,
Who willfully wander their own way;
They vex the pride that hides within,
And drink the bitter cup of sin.

The web of lies and dark deception,
Lie in defeat of Light’s conception;
To capture all and destroy life,
With passion’s fire and human strife
                 
We need to plant the gospel vine,
Where evil rules and saints repine.   
While martyrs lead with ransomed prayer,
With hope for life that tarries there.

Blood that was shed on Calvary,
Set slaves of transgression wholly free.
So we rise from the grave to seek reward,
Giving praise to our risen Lord.



Copyright © elizabeth wesley | Year Posted 2012


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Hot And Cold Comes The Night


LIST POETRY - A FUTURISTIC INTERPRETATION
You must know I cried yesterday and I think I broke the world so I braided some words into twine planted some sweet and sour coated seeds I grew free standing expressions and then I joined them with left over thread to present these interlocking pieces in their proper order regardless of the number they wear in an attempt to confuse and deceive. I offer this humble list for your reading enjoyment It is an honour to have you visit my page. The pleasure I assure you is all mine WORDS ON PAPER - THE LIST FIVE I loved you centuries before we were born. You lived in my dreams before I ever slept. When others wasted time picking flowers I waited for when it was time to pick you. Love calls you in the natural scent of your partner. You'd feel their touch in the vacuum of outer space. Your desire for them would melt away the ice age. I want to find a door in the brightest part of the sky I could open to erase what was, to shine a light so bright it, like a book of golden words, would write ideas so vital as to eradicate even a suggestion of our mournful past. I want to be that magician who does not bother with illusion but rather heals wounds and shatters burden. TWO We were at the fair, joviality in the air. A memory filed, I was a young child holding balloons floating round like full moons in vivid colours bright. Fixed on this joyous sight I was on Cloud Nine proud these were mine. If I had not let go of them. If I hadn't watched them as they flew higher and higher as my heart sunk lower and lower I might of never learnt what it felt like - hurt. Hope gloats, hope floats. either your way or just away. THREE sometimes the afternoon sun is.....too hot to walk barefoot........on the concrete path still even then.......I refuse to wear my hat I guess I'll never change, I'm just like that. sometimes when I jump in the lake in late summer... with all of my clothes on...I do it in the evening......as I go down...way down to the bottom...there's a gentle peace overtakes me..I want to stay down like a rock... revel in the ecstasy...not swim back up..........not ever SEVEN ours was a paper mâché love living in a cut out cardboard home with a macaroni art painted lawn and nothing real to call our own nothing solid that we could hold. we tried stacking lego bricks but you have to be able to pop your cheek to qualify as a kid - to get a license to build. the castle we assembled didn't pass the test. so much for fairy tales - hello reality check. we rolled the dice but our thimble went straight to jail and our mouse ended up trapped. can you hear that buzzing the operation failed. where are you going? your tricycle is still in the shop and I might as well tell you..............I have no eights................."go fish!" we fell through the bunny hole where i - jack fell ddddownnn nnnnnnn and broke my crown and you - jill came tumbling aaaaaaaaaaafterrrrrrrrrrrrrrr EIGHT it is a choreographed ballet our love stands strong legs at the base digging deep build roots delicate hands branched out reach high long slim fingers define twigs draw space the body of our trunk thick sweet filled music fills our human needs one sound wind pixies dance meticulously the air sunlight leaks effectively through dark spots lifts carries holds and shapes our smiles it is a choreographed ballet our love in sync our bodies their senses once immersed in I now us ONE I know the last thing I want to feel as I leave this world, it is your lips on mine. When I take my last breath I want to feel yours with its loving touch. NINE Always, no matter the roar or intensity of the storm how severe the attack even out of the norm Always, i offer my hand with sincerity aim to deal with it peacefully. Always! SIX then suddenly it hits like a swarm of locus. a deep dark manifestation that greases my mind my very existence in its unforgiving sense of doom. every bone stiffens, when I move, a sound of dead dried out forest twigs breaking against the boots of hikers echoes in the confined space of my skull. i reach for a pill slowly it dissolves under my tongue i wait and i wait and i wait ... my body is soaked in a sweat with its own cold and hot tap. i assume the position, lying on an unstable floor. the creature depression is now in full control of my faculties. this too i will survive ...that is what i do...what i do...this is what i do.......somehow i survive. FOUR there is a deafening hush... silently raging through the core of my existence...still...I am humbled by the light and the love I have witnessed in my brief appearance...........here on Earth there is a river...that walks at my side... walks with me........at the same stride... April 14 2015 Armand


Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2015


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Pathway to love

As I sit watching fusions of saffron and scarlet hues elegantly charm the horizons. Silently, fluffy lush clouds float by like a magnetic field drawing me closer, in hope they may lead me to you. So I ponder maybe love is like the sunrise so many see it - yet so few feel it. Just the thought of my beloved, leads to these poetic fingers bleeding. As they drown in an abundance of words, that can only be soothed by her luscious lips. For these sentimental eyes yearn to caress her tender skin. So, I set upon the path to discover, if it shall lead to the realms of my lover. A path that I have once trodden upon before, but the soul demands to travel upon it once more. After all I'm only human, the love she planted in my heart still remains and how can I love another, when the heart refuses to give permission. Time has kept us apart. I float to her like a butterfly, and shall float until I reach her province. For this not just an infatuated sensation, you may hear in a fairy tale or sung in a lullaby. Her love is the only sensation of infatuation, as she holds the formula to my alchemist heart. I know I can't simply take her heart, it can only be given to one. But without her the world is cold, and I live for the day she will wrap me up inside her heart and never let me leave. For the love she gave, is still the only one I crave. I long to walk together amongst bluebells and ambrosial roses, roaming through an oasis of enchanted blossoms. Her arms will become my sanctuary. To create a masterpiece of serenity, to achieve an eternal state of tranquillity. I hope before first site of twilight, her perfect vision brings justice to this write. In a world full of expectations, I may lose the passion to exist. Just one beautiful gesture, will help me to remember how to smile. For, I know her radiant eyes will provide clarity, the warmth of her kiss will be my remedy. The Silent One 8 November 2017 Simple Musings.


Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2017


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The Joy Killing Poet

**Back smile/smile Back **

With your heads way up your :]ssa[: 
You will never accomplish the win
I got shots that will protect me from your rabid ways
After you fell into a non-stop falling disease, 
Your movements weakened
Straight from a dried up well, 
Every day you frolic in a disorder that causes more brain damage 
With progressive mental retardation 
You continue to lick the top of your cleft lips

He is the saddest sadist human that ever lived!
So sad he has to live with himself every night
Kissing his young ones Goodnight 
In ways I can't even breathe to tell
The way he follows rabbits down the bunny hole
Killing each laughing hare
Wiping smiles, leaning in, 
The madness in Alice's Wonderland 
Madder and Madder The Hatter
Revealing
Your boldness is nothing more than baldness
A man in a monkey suit
Molesting the minds of his idiotic circle, 
Trying to kill the joy, not knowing
We don't care about his false Harvard WAY
I rather stay here dropping out, than pretending
Following his made-up perception, a cropped out waste
His taste, my best copypaste, he jacked on
A stench, they left behind when open mouths laugh
He educates by attacking women better than his own
Silently to the top of his knife, he stalks nakedly
Removing a few poems he plagiarized
His Poorness, brought many to donate to the salvation of his army
Sadness Delivered by the Joy Killing Poet and his little pigs

Cross My heart and hope to die!!!

~SKAT~


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2014


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Plethora of Poetry

~STRIP TEASE~     Featuring:) SKAT

Silver Skimpy Ink, String, A POET DESTROYER's bling, bling
Think of me as a human ditty delicious decoration,
Something along the line of a sweet tooth temptation
Cherry tastes, between the slit of tender toast 
Fine jumble jam slams down the tongueless throat 
Dance like a diamond on The tight South Pacific Rim
I'll feed you with a slithering seductive sound
My hair soaking, -wet and wild, tonight I trim
A dulcet apple acrostic bottom, to squeeze the greed
Feathers, on top, poetic diction describing to please
At times, I'm in deep dire need of something sweet, and sour 
Endless epic words, and ode to the naked poetic world
We The Women and Men of poetry,
Reveals far more than any nudity found in a bar
It does not matter how you do it or who you are.
I'm an entertainer, of Poetry, 
The good, the bad, the freaking awesome
Don't worry, I keep my clothe On :)

---

Symbol of the spiritual Sexy SKAT Slang
--Provocative-- A slippery succulent, scrumptious kiss 
Counterparts working the tension, another arrant appetite
I am the Illuminati illusion, laminating luscious illustrated letters  
Indulging in the, satire of one stilt spoken sunset
Like a child's spiking temperature, I often throw tantrums, 
Teasing attentions, by incorporating a pole, paper and pen, 
If someone is uncomfortable with facing the fact, 
When I reveal everything, without removing my high heels
Then you must not be worldly or women and man enough 
I love to spoil and slur my scenery, using my best assets
My strength and power parallel, any unique universe 
That's how confident the audience makes me feel
We The Women and Men of poetry,
Reveals far more than any nudity found in a bar
It does not matter how you do it or who you are.
I'm an entertainer, of Poetry, 
The good, the bad, fantastic and fabulous
Don't worry, I keep my clothe On :)


~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014


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Atlantis

~ATLANTIS~   Featuring:) Kelly Deschler

-------
Can't be re-written by the Gods
The land and sands of time'
Destroyed by the fire of Poseidon's curse 
Atlantis swallowed by: Earth
--------

In one day and one night
Peaceful existence met its end
Built on a volcano, now surrounded by ancient rippled tears
Lava stripped apart the rich and glorious empire
Enriched by Engineers and Architects whom loved power more than the Gods 
Forgotten souls, sheltered by a watery grave
History withheld from shallow sunken memories,
Western sky's hide the truth, a vision from the Pillars of Hercules
"An island situated in front of The Strait of Gibraltar"
Ghostly ruins wait to rise above the Mediterranean and Atlantic Waves
A magical island held down by the hands of death, 
~
Atlantis lost city walls ---a secret hidden by mermaids
Partially buried, beneath the ocean floor it lies
The largest sunken treasure never to be found
Magnificent pillars of an imperial palace still stand
Somewhere hidden under ancient sand
Some are leaning against turrets, that toppled after the impact
Nothing human will ever inhabit these walls
No feet will ever touch these staircases, again
Only an eerie silence now resides here, with the blue-green waters   
Seaweed grows along it's outer walls, like ivy on a trellis.
Obscuring it even further from the human eye.
~
Other ocean tides will never compare
Tantalizing blend of fantasy and mystery
Stone walls covered with precious gems
 -Listen to PLATO'S voice-
"Look close, Look close, into the sea!"
Through the light and Pillars of Hercules
Some where out there buried in the vast 
ATLANTIS THE PARADISE


~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013


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- A Most Beautiful Symphony of Love -

 
Rhythmic tones form a most beautiful symphony of love 
A shining star as nature's splendor reflects Heaven’s light 
It’s my destiny to learn a passion and purpose to use now 
Even for a moment, I would not change for you’re my love 
And love is a blessing, an eternal gift that keeps on giving 
Take your wish, shattered dreams—leave this world behind 
And we shall seek and find a togetherness with lullabies pure 
For each new emotion my heart shall always find you dearest 
 
Sending warm golden stirring echoes dancing into your dreams 
Softly lips whispering so gently in the air as a loving tune sings 
As the warm sun lights up our footsteps treading on golden sands 
Perfect maiden you’re the siren ringing bells for midnight chimes 
True precious bride inside the heart you have keys to all the doors 
Walk with me hand in hand as the soul breathes and butterflies sigh 
Ocean waves crash—kissing salt of the earth as windows flutter free 
Safely sitting on the throne as the crown graces a fair maiden queen 
 
Our special music reflects the precious nature of our love dearest 
As we share enchanted moments with each other so real and pure  
When I take your hand in mine, I feel the magic warmth of passion 
When I gaze into your eyes, I sense the depth of our love forever 
The delight I share with you dear one defies all human description 
And so my love—enjoy the oneness we share as two souls together 
As we bask in God’s own heavenly light and music in His Universe 
Our hearts unite as one in forming a most beautiful symphony of love 




 
Anne-Lise Andresen, Liam McDaid, and Gary Bateman © 
A Collaborated Poem – June 22, 2015
Copyright © All Rights Reserved



Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2015


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God Bless America

In the courts of sport and entertainment
They have forgotten the scales of justice
Lacking honor for those who gave life and limb
Sacrificing blood, and buried with god giving grace

The anthem is our history
of all triumphs, good, and even flaws
Look into the eyes of a veteran
to see inside a suffering vault

They, who fought, so that you may play
They who died, so that the rich live this day
Even the poor still have their freedoms
For veterans themselves, knew their reasons

No man, no nation can stand up to perfection
Its about respect of those, who gave...
Despite all imperfections
Without, history repeats, sending more to the cross and knave

When you hear "God Bless America"
Think of those flag covered graves
Think of the children
No fathers, because it is you they saved

Our nation is human
Filled with imperfections
Protest for change, for better days
While holding respect for those, who before you

With their blood, led the way


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2017


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He Touched Me

Do you know what it is like to be an untouchable?
To be so filthy and disgusting
That people shrink away from you
Do you know how it corrodes your soul
To see how the stench that follows your rotting flesh
Contorts people’s faces in disgust
Even from miles away?
I tell you, you die a thousand deaths
Each time you see them cover their faces
To protect themselves from the putrid air
That surrounds you
And they scurry away
Revolted by your very shadow

It doesn’t help that you have to scream
“Unclean, Unclean” everywhere you go
It doesn’t help that daily you have to find your food
Left behind an agreed upon boulder 
It doesn’t help when you taste the bread
Your wife has baked with loving hands
Knowing that the salt of her tears is mixed in the dough
That nourishes your rotting body
It doesn’t help when visions of her beauty and healthy body
Ravage your mind…for she has become untouchable to you
It doesn’t help when all you remember are the last words 
Your crying son sobs into her apron….
“Why does daddy have to leave?” 
And you quietly slink away…unable even to hold him
One last time

Being a leper
Is the nightmare you can’t easily shed
How unlike your body that easily sheds
Your fingers…one by one

And then you hear of a Healer
A Nazarene
A carpenter turned preacher
Who mingles with prostitutes
With tax collectors 
Society’s untouchables
Outcasts like you and you think…
Maybe…just maybe

I tell you this….
All my yesterdays and all my tomorrows
Were bound in the moment I stood before him
His disciples stepped back
I saw a woman get sick
At the sight of me
And before I knew it, the words tumbled out
“Lord, if you are willing…..you can make me clean.”

I was a crumpled ball on the ground
A discarded piece of human waste
Not daring to look up
My half eaten face covered
Thoughts of my wife, my boy swimming in my head
And pouring out of my eyes in the form of tears
And then for the first time since I was banished to the outskirts of the city
For the first time in what seemed like a lifetime
I felt the touch of another human hand 
His hand was on my shoulder
His hand was on MY shoulder
The refuse of humanity
On ME!
Ah…I had forgotten how good it felt to be touched

It was a gentle touch
A touch of love 
A touch of healing
“I am willing, be clean.”
I heard whispered in my ear
The warmth of the touch
The nearness of the voice
Were enough to heal my soul
What more could I ask for?
And yet….I felt something else
New life coursed through my veins
A wave of energy
Started from the souls of my feet
Revitalizing every cell as it rushed up to my dazed head
Bursting into a clarity of vision I had not known
I looked at my hands
Yes, these were MY hands
The hands that she had loved to hold against her face
The hands that my son had clung to when he was afraid
The hands of a workman
Young, strong capable hands

There was silence
As they all witness my rebirth
Finally, I looked up to see
The most compassionate face
That I had ever seen in my life
I saw tears running down His face
And yet, His smile rivaled the sun
And the next thing I knew
I was in His embrace
Whole…body and soul
Whole
All because
He touched me.

Eileen Manassian Ghali


Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2013


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THE DEEPEST DEPTHS OF EPIC PAIN

THE DEEPEST DEPTHS OF EPIC PAIN

The scars of life unveil the weight of lies,
lest it be the torment of moral sin,
wherein the guiltless suffer wounds and cries
of love’s deceit as heartless notions win.

The evil whims of wicked fancy shows
no mercy for those crossed by hands of fate
when magic dreams are cast by darkened clouds
which turns the morbid sorrow into hate.

In rage of fervor, passions zeal is lost, 
oft destroyed by life's dire tribulations,
as sunning rays vacates dawn's gleaming frost 
human frailties blind truth's revelations. 

Within hope destroyed and life's darkest stain 
remains the deepest depths of epic pain.

14th March, 2017
T.J Grén & Robert Lindley


I was inspired to write this sonnet after reading Robert Lindley’s sonnet “Leave This Sad heart, I Can Take No More Pain” and his notes on the sonnet. Due to the inspiration I received from his beautifully written sonnet, I asked Robert to write this sonnet in collaboration with me. I was much honored to work with Robert to complete this poem. Thank you very much, Robert. It is always a great pleasure to work with you.


Copyright © Teppo Gren | Year Posted 2017


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Fallen Star

I tracked along a silver trail
carved out from Earthly dust
by rays persistent in the dark 
and midnight wanderlust.

It led me to a bubbling fount
of sulfurous mud and tar; 
whereupon I chanced a glimpse
and found a fallen star. 

An ancient from celestial realms
ensnared terrestrially
dimly glowing in the murk
I heard it sing to me:

Sojourner of the moonlit way
I sense thy beating heart
I’ve travelled from infinity
now hearken ere you part.

You roam upon this infant orb, 
you draw from it thy life, 
but I sense greed and evil scorn
and no land void of strife.

I beg you tell me how it came
that creatures such as thee
have found such hatred in thy souls
to punish endlessly. 

It’s not so bad, I said out loud
we know of love as well…
as to the fate of mother Earth
I simply can’t foretell.

The ground beneath my weary feet
gave way to empty space
then all around me in the void
I saw the human race.

Starving children, ill and gaunt
were kicked by wing-tipped shoes.
Females ranging every clime
in silence nursed abuse.

In darkness men were plotting war
in light their banners raised
it mattered not which way I looked
some evil met my gaze.  

Make it stop, I beg you please!
Why poison thou my mind?
What can I do to stop all this,
is no good left to find?

Sojourner of the moonlit way
I sense thy beating heart
I’ve travelled from infinity
now hearken ere you part.

You roam upon this infant orb, 
you draw from it thy life, 
and though you’re one of many men
love in thy chest is rife.

You must return to whence you came
you must confer abroad
the goodness that within thee burns
seek first to serve the flawed.

Think on the vast expanse of space
so empty, dark and cold…
and how despite the hopeless cause
star-light you still behold.

So too might thou, if you’ll but try
endure this awful plight
for in the vast expanse of hate
love is thy shining light. 

07/16/15










Copyright © The Grahamburglar | Year Posted 2015


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Snowflakes

Sunlight glistens off crystal snowflakes
As they float and flutter through the sky
Like butterflies in their freedom of flight,
Never knowing where they might alight.
They leave us awestruck as they join
Together turning the landscape white.

Closer view reveals no two are alike.
In this way, we as tender human beings 
Have much in common with snowflakes.
We treasure our freedom, we are each unique,
And there is much beauty as we unite as an
All encompassing gift to each other 
Bonded by the strength of coming together.

Winter is a time of rest and rejuvenation,
A time to prepare for rebirth in the coming spring
As the first bulbs push their way through the 
Snow covered ground, slowly rising up in 
A blaze of glorious colors, exalting spring hope.

© Connie Marcum Wong

Poem of the Day February 25, 2017

Thank you Poetry Soup Team!




Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2017


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On My Mother Passing


ON MY MOTHER’S PASSING i wanted to keep my mother physically with me but it would be like trying to hold the sun like in life she still shines brighter than any star is as gentle as the finest breeze she isn't gone my mother is infinite hers was a metamorphosis like the butterfly represents eternal beauty flies to heights unimaginable to the human mind butterflies are free and so is she she was a wife a mother a sister a friend she was the best of all those roles she was because she chose to be but she was then she is now she will always be free such was her nature we all knew her as that special person could embrace your heart we also knew she was all but she was one you can't own that kind of beauty and her shine filled you with a euphoric joy she was she is like the moon the one belongs to children belongs to love at its very core love she spreads across the universe my mother was is will always be as large as unconditional love i share this story with you in order to comfort you her influence is immense she is now looking after us all be happy, be confident be at peace my mother is with us all and my mother is love armand
.................................................................................................
An Added Bonus (My Parents Always Enjoyed My Imagination For Both Of Them I include This Piece) DISGUISED IDIOMS & EVERYTHING “JAZZ” for you i’d lay down the red and plush give you the shirt I’m wearing walk a mile and then one more hand you the key to my beet red beat commit all my eggs to your stash throw in nine yards the whole of it tell you with no shame “i’m at your beck...just call” no need to do mine turn around I’ll scratch yours i’m yours all my parts even a parcel all of it ‘till the cattle arrive’ Armand ‘aren’t you the clever boy’ Yvonne
..................................................................... Another piece if your in the mood. If not off you go then. BENEATH THE WHINING scaled the walls every time nothing nothing on the other side found the doors their locks never the keys paid my dues never got a receipt every time i fell got back up followed the light always took the noble path stepped barefoot on jagged rocks autographed the stones in blood -mine from great heights lost my hold landed on my feet regret occupies the larger part of my thoughts sometimes i cried even yelled my infamous screams my life it turns out was blessed having accomplished none of my goals i lived an existence i alone could appreciate underneath the layers of self inflicted scars i found a me i loved and respected i need nothing more armand ........................................................................... I UNDERSTAND THE DIFFERENCE. RECOGNIZE ONE FROM THE OTHER. while the evil mind trods awkwardly wears swamp covered boots destroys indiscriminately inner beauty dances in partnership a benevolent synchronized waltz minds adorned in a growing blue green moss nurture strong thick deep roots transfer nutrients lovingly to the breathing heart their silent strength in turn energizes a body of good spread like lavender scented clover over a barren land flow like oxygen cleanses polluted waterways worldwide calms the unsteady unpredictable weather patterns of recent times a new is born and not a life animal vegetable human not any life harmed such is the outcome the collective power of inner beauty armand ........................................................................................ FOR YOU MY LOVE a human heart beats over a hundred thousand times a day the first one hundred thousand every day beat for you armand ........................................................................................................ A SIMPLE SUGGESTION I know my heart is made of butter but you can only spread it so thin armand ........................................................................................................ DISNEY WOULD BE PROUD a blue tree covered in spaghetti branches drenched in a sauce of leaves with no desire to be served up in an Italian restaurant where a lady or a tramp or both might end up in a passionate kiss with an orchestra providing the background ambiance no, this navy colored tree is too busy chumming around with the sky and the odd passing cloud thinking back when it was just an acorn now the tallest the most majestic growth in the forest still never forgetting its roots once just a single seed humbled by its origin dearly loved by the Earth no, more -by the universe comfortable in its greatness happy as just one piece of something much greater a gentle giant at peace with its existence wait, was that Bambi and Thumper just ran by it the giant smiles armand ................................................................................................... ONE CENT ALLEY drove us to a magical mystery go see “there's nothing you can do...it's easy all you need is love” so we latched on to a mustard coloured submarine "something in the way..." walked down a british road "and in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make" armand ................................................................................................. A PROPOSAL a sheet of paper printed slats of wood measured extra thick rope strong large fat nails steel a set of tools exact a driven will instinctive and there you have it a bridge perhaps we can meet in the middle armand


Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2018