Best Timeworld Poems


~ "horizons"....

Closing my thoughts to clear my mind; sight....

Floating through a souls time, unto tranquilities breeze

Gently, that I may find, somehow such treasures

The beauty, within all of life ~

Pleasant these things; these paintings dreams....

Leaving the world behind, to embrace "This Light"

Melting inside pristines, immaculate love so bright

Pure as the freshly fallen snow, upon my lashes

Softened feathers; warmth, which tenderly glows ~

Walking along the tides; soothing pictures before my eyes....

Gathering in smiles; hopes; joys; these, drying tears

Splendours moment now turning towards, "The Sun"

Flowing from the tips of the unseen stars; memories

Passing by the dawn of a nighttimes rescinding

Glittering, waving to an ocean of endless hearts; precious ~ 

Caressing my thoughts to clear my mind; new reflections 

Floating through a souls time, unto tranquilities breeze....

Gently that I may find, unrequited; unremitted, love

A canvas thus brushed; a beautiful promise ~

Melting inside, forevermore; leaving the world behind; pure

As the freshly fallen snow, upon my softened lashes; these 

Magnificent dreams; majestical tales to be told; unfold

Beyond the brilliant colours of, "A Tomorrows"....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

...."Horizon" ~

I Hate That I Can Touch the Ceiling In My Bathroom Walls

I hate that I can touch the ceiling in my bathroom walls.
I hate that eerie lonesome feeling that I'm getting tall.
I hate how e'erything now is small and how I've grown so high.
I hate how petty tiffs are teeming and I'm asking "Why"

I love that I can now explore the world without a care.
I love that I can sleep and snore until the midday's air.
I love that I have learnt to share and my how I can swim!
I love my aura and galore, expressed with but a grin.

I hate how all my fascination with the world declined.
I hate how sky clouds' animation perished from my mind.
I hate how no one's ever kind to me and I'm alone.
I hate how alcohol's temptation over me has grown.

I love how I can feel emotion t'wards another soul.
I love that I can sail the ocean, always in control.
I love how in my life, a hole is no cause for alarm.
With simple grit and great devotion I shan't come to harm.

I hate that I can touch the ceiling in my bathroom walls.
I hate that eerie lonesome feeling that I'm getting tall.
I hate how e'erything now is small and how I've grown so high.
But never will I cease my dreaming—
—That I'll someday touch the sky.
© Gael Attal  Create an image from this poem.

Bleeding Sky

The wind is a messenger,
Who preach the world all over,
But human not even once never,
Listen which lead our world with anger,

The future is getting colder,
While our minds is getting weaker,
Our present will not be better,
Unless we start all over

Lies fall form our mouths,
Tears comes out our eyes,
A curse of our mind,
A sun from a bleeding sky,


Illusion

The world seems so quiet
The world seems so still
But is it ever silent
When my heartbeat goes on
The world is always moving

A silent deep breath
Of time passing by
Silence fills my ears
Nothing left to hear

I hear nothing
The world, empty
It’s a lie

Not empty
Not silent

Illusion

####
Written for Paula Swanson contest breathe in Silence

Future

Some think it is bleak,
They say it will truly reek,
But I say take another look,
Sit down and read a book.
The future is bright,
As bright as a full moon at night.
You may think I am insane
But let me take a minute to explain.
The future is only
What you make it out to be.
If you are soft spoken and meek
And a place in life is what you seek,
Look not to the past
For the die is cast,
The future is the place
Where you will find solace.
If you like to dream
And want answers that seem
So far away
Day after day,
Look not to the past
For the die is cast.
Get past the glitch
And you will be rich.
The world runs on dreams
And so it seems
That without those of you
Whose intentions are so true,
Though the world tries and tries and tries,
In the end society would die.
Now you see how the future works,
How in the dark it always works.
In the sky it can soar
Or it can lie below the floor.
However you look at it,
If you’ll sit
And think it over
You will see that I am sober.

Turning Air Into Gold

It is like turning air into gold, 
to be born into this world uncontrolled. 
Against all astronomical odds, 
this had to be done by the gods. 

To come into this world of chaos and confusion, 
living life as we see it, not as an illusion.
To be here and to be happy with what you are, 
getting a life to live, is as rare as a shooting star. 

Born in the same time and place, like someone dealing.
That it should be impossible, to have this feeling.
You were made so perfect and beautiful in your mold.
Me, knowing and loving you, is like air turning into gold.
© Chris Matt  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member A Moment

The day is oh so quiet.
The sun has not come up.
But I can see it peeking.
The world awaits it on its throne.
Everything is still.
No one is running about.
What a perfect time for poetry…
Before my brood is up.
Beautiful. Serene.
A cup of coffee near by.
A moment out of time.
Within this cocooned moment…
The world is all mine.

Frozen

The night turns to day 
And one season changes to another 
But why do I 
Stay the same
Everything changes around me 
And I can feel nothing
The years past and the 
Time changes but I have
Been frozen everything keeps moving around
Me but I can not seem to move on
The life I know no longer moves 
But stands still frozen in time
Have I died and cant understand why 
Has my life ended and my mind still wonder
Or is this all a long endless dream that wont end
I watch every one around me 
I sit there while the world spines 
I sit there in my world of frozen time
A world that no one can see 
Me but I can see every one
Why has this happened 
If this is all a dream 
Why wont it end

My Little World In My Forgotten Little Town

Oh how alive I feel!
Now spring has come again.
The familiar sun,
My old friend.
Come at last,
Warming my face
As I walk from place to place.

High up in the hills 
I meet you each morning,
Rejocing once more
That a new day is dawning.
Singing birds
Serenade your grace,
Of sorrow, there is no trace.

Colours so vibrant,
Venture to be seen.
Left lush from the snow,
The grass shines green.
Golden daffodils
Wave their hello,
As further down the track I dare go. 

In a world of my own,
I go back in time,
When the bracken was untamed,
And the fields only just lined.
Happy am I...
Until a pylon cuts in...
But that is the world we now are akin. 

If only I could stay up there all day,
Playing hide and seek with my little dog,
Until we come upon the cows, 
Emerging lazily from amongst the fog.
Standing so firm,
Blocking our way.
To the next path, then, we shall stray. 

Looking out across my nowhere town,
Always a journey's chapter, not destination,
Not thriving but there all the same,
With it's dying high street and long gone station.
I know every street,
Every square and alley,
Toady it wakes so very sadly.

Gone are the days when Henry VIII,
Favoured the White Horse, as his inn.
Gone, too, are the days of strong Industry,
No more do the men at work sing.
But it's my little town,
No matter how dull
And if you want, you can still find it's soul.

That's why each morning I wake at dawn,
To go up the downs and stand my watch,
Looking past the cars, new builds and shops,
I see the Market town, whose past was forgot.
To the cross roads, as always, 
My eyes are drawn 
Of the romans they were born.

So that's my morning,
That's my little town.
Part of my little world,
All up on the downs.
With each spring,
It ages once more,
But for all time, I'm sure it'll endure.

Worlds of Us

Worlds of Us

Worries surround our worlds.
And as we pass through each,
A new, seem to attach itself to all that already exist.

As the worries in life come,
The world, that we all swell to survive,
In ways, feel to be lost in the midst of difficulties.

Raging times come to each world.
With this; are times of forgotenence of joyousness,
Replaced are memories of worries, passing through our eyes into mind.

Worlds come always by our waking side,
To be of peace, then to change to worlds of the unknown,
Causing disbelief in the change brought through eyes to mind.

The worlds die by our falling into subconscious of the setting horizon,
But the difficulties of each new world bring back forth the worries.
Worries, from before the last fall, into our restful world; night’s peace.

But we continue falling; to gain relaxation from the previous worlds.
We try to swell to survive the worries of each world’s bringing.
And; not to leave into the forgotten, but remember the joys of the world.

For there are memories of joy brought by every world we go through.
Memories remembered by the calm; in between every brought worry.
And to think of each world’s joyous time; makes each coming world survivable.

Mother

i live like there is no tomorrow
only to find myself swallowed
i pray for for a world of peace
yet the world would rather cease

closing my eyes for the last time
i have decided to change my mind
about what is right or what is wrong
or what is poetry or just a song

silly old talk about a memory
then she walked out on me
if in it there was no truth 
why she vanish in a poof

no goodnight, i love love you
only dark skies with no blue
the stars do shine brightly
but no longer enough for me
neither are your stories
© Lacey Vann  Create an image from this poem.

So Fast

Scrape the skin
Heal the scars
Wonder if I can win
Faded wounds from the past
Looking right at me
Something I don't want the world to see
And the world is blind if I let it be

Fingertips tracing the marks
A touch of the past
Reliving the fears
They come back so fast

Think about speaking
Arguing with myself about it fast
Cause I don't even know
And even so 
I doubt they will believe
That it's apart of the past

Don't want an uproar
Don't want attention
Just want some people to know 
There's more to me than you can ever see
So much beneath the surface
More screwed up than I may seem
I wonder if it's hard to believe

Just want to be honest
Just want to have the relief of not hiding behind a mask
Even if I confess I'd have to fake a laugh
Cause I don't want anyone to worry
Or give me that look
I know what they'd say

Yet it's apart of me
Is not knowing of it
Not knowing me

Fingertips tracing the marks
A touch of the past
Reliving the fears
They come back so fast

In My Hands

I’ve got the world  
in my hands
I hope you understand
I’ve got the world 
in my hands 
Time for to make my stand

Left foot 
Conflict
Murky rivers
And washed away 
Soot 
A beginners fee
Listen 
And you will hear
The lasting cry’s 
Of a sinner’s 
Final plea
In merit
We cherish 
This burgundy 
Life
Equals stains of mercury
Polished soldiers 
Built within the words of me
Yet for so many days
They lone only to murder me 
How can we go on
In spite of those 
Whom wish us gone
As a nomad
On these evenings 
Of dusk
I roam 
Tomorrow 
Just may bring about
A place of fiction
A far way home
A similar addiction

The Final Moment of Light

The last golden beams of sunlight
Shining bands cast an amber tint to the world
Reaching out into a darkening Heaven
Grabbing at the sky in a final vain effort
It reaches for stars too distant to reach
Trying to keep daylight for one more minute
The sphere fades over a blue horizon
From gold to violet to the darkest blue
The world changes its hue
The world noticed and becomes at peace
Its chaos turns into a peaceful rest
Even the strongest winds fade into a gentle breeze
The sounds of life silent themselves
And the world sleeps

Scenery

My day’s awry
My days gone badly
Times I once had
The privilege 
Of being only

And I just can’t sing
Oh the way I want to 
And I keep my mark
Until these days fade dark

And I once was told 
It takes you and I
To remain calm and behold

But it’s such a real world 
That I can’t hold it
And it’s such a real world 
Why don’t you listen
Find what’s been missing

Did you miss me
While I was away
Or am I writing 
After my days delay

My days gone awry
Why don’t you listen
My days gone badly 
Don’t you see 
What you’re missing

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