Best Open Book Poems


Open Book

Read me devour me with your knowledge if I am description you cannot read between the lines how would you understand me for I am yours to keep comprehension beyond your intentions mention in its own way I'm as open as the seven seas lakes all bodily waters which fall to rocky planes from the mountains that I move

-an Open Book-

~An Open Book~

My life is quite an open book
For anyone to take a look.
It’s lying there for all to see 
Feel free to uncover the real me.

Within its pages I share my heart.
It’s like a navigational chart
To my dreams, my pain, my sorrow,
And all my hopes for tomorrow.

In this book, my fantasies I disclose,
Some in rhyme and some in prose.
But on these pages you will discover
The man who is my one true lover.

Between the lines, my fears I reveal,
These I have no desire to conceal.
The pain and anguish are all a part
Of the many emotions in my heart.

Know that I have nothing to hide,
My book tells of my shame and my pride.
So if you care to have a look,
Feel free to ask about my book.

~~x~~

Premium Member Open Book

Open Book.
.
My hasty quill does not spill ink
Like a quill often would
But part of me and my heart
And written with my blood
.
Driven by my passion to write
With deep emotion conviction and lust
Before my life is over
And I unwillingly return to dust
.
Poetry to me
Is a way of setting my soul free
My mistress my life
And my therapy
.
My fertile mind drifts off
Reaching places I’ve never been
Drawn from the fountain of the heart
And mindful lucid dreams
.
Mt enthusiasm is such
It often pains me too much
And my heart cries and breaks
For my love 
And for arts sake
. 
Here trapped on my lonely island
I bridge the gap
Between reality and fantasy
And I can become someone 
That I’d rather be
.
My imagination can take me 
To dance among the stars
Or far across the sea
And say what I believe
.
Without my words
I cannot live
And as long as the hour glass sand doesn’t run out
I have so much yet to give
. 
For I am but an open book
Naked and shameless
For anyone who wants
To take a look.
.

Peter Dome©2020.
© Peter Dome  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member My Life Is An Open Book, But

My life is an open book, not that it's all that interesting really.
It just doesn't concern me what the world may think about me.
One can ask me anything at all about yours truly
and I'd answer all about myself very freely and honestly,
but there may be times when I may come off as a hypocrite.
One might ask me a question whereupon I'll appear very evasive.
" It's too lengthy and too complicated to talk about it,"
is not an uncommon response that I sometimes reply with.
Most likely you've touched on a subject that has brought back to me
very tragic, sorrowful, painful memories.
I've been through all that crap once and once was more than enough for me.
To answer your question would force me to relive it again and that I will not appease,
but I never end my reply with, "I don't want to talk about it."
I end with, "l'lI let you know one day if you happen to be truly interested,"
if you're still then interested you will receive an email from me as quick as a wink.
Subject: In Reference To Your Question. Message: Click On This Link >.
One of the benefits I receive from writing poetry
is that my words are posted on the Internet for all to read,
so whenever anyone asks me a question that may disturb me
and stir up all my dormant feelings within me from tragedy,
I answer their question by providing them a link to my poetry
that touches on the subject that the individual had asked of me.
Their question gets answered hopefully
and I didn't have to relive another episode of my life's tragedy
by having to explain it all again vocally.
However, once again I declare that my life is an open book.
It's posted all over the Internet and the world is free to have a look.

I'M An Open Book?

I've been told that I'm an ''open book''.
I leave nothing to guess.
If you asked me if it's true 
I'd simply answer ''yes''.

But do you really know me? 
Do you know what makes me cry? 
Do you know what makes me giddy? 
What it takes to make me sigh? 

There may be many pages 
to this simple little book
that perhaps may even shock you...
if I gave you time to look.

You'll never crack the binding.
You couldn't take the pain.
You'd worry of my sorrow
and the heartache would remain.
© Mary Nagy  Create an image from this poem.

Candid

So tired she thought it best
to wear her heart on her sleeves
and get things off her chest

Ignored a notion preconceived
that living like an open book 
would only make her more naive

She said if they simply take another look
they'll see a clear transparency
and just maybe, let me off the hook


Open Book, Open Letter

I was an open book
I shared an open letter
It was getting old anyway
What am I talking about
My feeling were real
the pain is real
I can hide behind my fury, my pride, everything I am
but I'd still be broken down inside
I can say none of this has phased me
look at this as learning
say nobody can break me down
but how much of that is true
when I know deep down inside
I don't have a clue
How everything just suddenly
turned into a raging storm
Everything was falling up
now everything's spiraling down
I'm an open book
but I feel like dying now
Everything I held onto
the one thing I kept
lost it in a game of charades
a childish bet in a game I've never won
And I'm trying to play it off
walking tall
hiding myself in the shade
smiling at my surroundings
while at home
I bury my face in my pillow
dream of a willow
sitting by the sea
attempting to possibly do the impossible
and try to do the act of forgetting

Open Book

OPEN BOOK 

I want to read her..  
From front to back...
From up to down... 
From cover to cover... 
I want to read her.....  
I want to read her eyes.
While I discover every thought in her intellectual mind.. 
I want to read her soul....
Embodying her copiously, 
Substantially...
Gratefully.
I want to read her heart.. 
Guessing, and studying, every chapter...
Caressing every piece of her...
Reading between every line..
Carefully defined, 
Designed, 
In a divine plan.
I want to read her with suspense... 
Predicting, gauging, evaluating, what will succeed to happen next..
What we succeed in seeing... 
As the thrill and excitement floods my entire being.. 
Beaming with energy,
Vibrating with the frequency...
Of love, and awe and wonder.  
As I gaze into her...  
I wonder if she's attempting to read me too. 
Two of us, open as a book bent so far back, that it will never close... 
Every secret disclosed... 
Exposed..
In the rawness of the realness of her....
Reading her.....
Discovering her....
Glued to every page... 
Eyes fixated on her lips...
Magnetized..
Hypnotized...
By the magnificent beauty of every word that she says..  
The sound of her voice, allowing me to feel her thoughts in my head..
In my soul,..
In my mind..
I want to read her for the first time....  
For the second time.....
Everytime.... 
I want to read her.... 
Cherish her...
Learn her.... 
Know her.... 
Appreciate her...
Desire her..
I desire to read her..... 
I desire to read everything about her..   
From front to back..
From cover to cover...
From inside out.. 
I have no doubt..
that I am reading the best chapters of my life.. 
In the book of her.  
I can concur..
She is the best book, I have ever read..

The World Is An Open Book

The world is an open book 
When you continue to grab education
You obtain valuable knowledge 
What a bright sensation 
The mind is an essential tool 
Utilize it wisely 
Be that sage person 
Who articulates succinctly

Open Book

My life 
It may be full of strive
Private to some
Public to none
Never to be broadcasted upon a movie screen.
The things I've seen would make some men scream.
Rising above the ashes.
Yet judged upon my past.
Deeds of old reflect like a mirror.
Never taken for the man I've become,
But looked down upon of the man I was.
Pushing towards the future, but yesterday is what's seen.
My life knows countless struggles and hardship. 
But none have tasted my tears or known my pain.
My failures are recorded, but good deeds forgotten.
Among some I'm a hero, but to the world I'm. nameless.

Open Book

He said not to fear and He said a lot of other things too
He made it all very clear for one looking for what's true
Every story that He told and of all the things Jesus spoke
They came young and old because their souls had awoke

The Words He'd say and the parables that He would tell
About how you should pray in so keeping your soul well
They had come from everywhere mourning, noon, night
Of Him all were aware coming to Him with every plight

Where ever Jesus went He always attracted a large crowd
They listened so intent He didn't have to speak very loud
Many came to be cured and others came out of curiosity
But what had truly lured was the chance to be set free

Today is much different, Jesus is no where to be found 
But not the message He sent in His Book firmly bound
As if He was still here standing right there a top the hill
His Voice ever clear in the revealing of His Fathers Will

Like An Open Book (An Intermission For Sarah)

Before I remove my gaze from your face,
I want to read your eyes, then read your lips,
Until I read your thighs, then read your hips,
Viewing each chapter at a steady pace.
While using my finger to mark my place,
My imagination will take a trip,
And then my thirst for you will take a sip,
Being quenched by just a drop of your grace.
My finger will then turn another page,
Until the climatic point has been reached.
The satisfaction will be all the rage,
Because the walls of pleasure will be breached.
And, as the symbolism sets the stage,
The most seductive message will be preached.

Premium Member Love Is A Shady Nook Or An Open Book

It's not so much what love brings you
But more important how it makes you feel
What we may feel it is love or just superficial good looks
And lust and pretence and not real

Love is something the more you look for
It more it pushes it further away
It doesn't come to everyone it's like a locked door
But for the fortunate who find it
And Cupid looks their way and they get the key
And loves an open door

It can be like chasing butterflies in the wind
Close but just out of your reach
You just can't win everything

One moment you're flying high
Through clear blue skies
The next flying through moody skies wanting to die

It isn't always a good thing
it's not always you to blame
It can make your heart sad or make your heart sing

It's a game of forgiveness
Earned trust appreciation not taking them for granted
Faith and being aware of each other's feelings
And give and take

It's easy for someone to say I love you in bed
When they don't love you at all and the next morning they have forgotten 
What they'd said 

It may be a blessing to have children made of love
Or an unwanted heavy weight you don't want to carry 
On your back made out of lust and selfish unresponsible
© Peter Dome  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member I Am An Open Book

You are like my 
morning coffee
without you
I cannot start my day...

You are like the
chorus of my favorite song
without you the 
song would be incomplete...

Your simple hello
brings serenity
to an otherwise chaotic day...

You broke down
the walls I’ve build,
no one else 
has come this close...

You know my thoughts
my every mood, 
in fact you know me...

To you I am an open book
so tell me, why do you always need surety?
Why the insecurity?

An Open Book

I look at my life like an open book
as I write my poems
I allow the world to look
look at my life
and all the strife
that I've been through
if only you knew who blue it use to be
you see
things have changed
since my boo came
into my life
now about the strife
it's not even apart of my life
now that i'm his wife
everything is so right

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