Best Wisdom Poems | Poetry

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

the wisdom of Solomon by Kelly, Justin
Wisdom Within by Sullivan, Toni
Words of Wisdom by Schuetz, Gwen
I PRAY FOR WISDOM by Gauthier, Line
Refugees For Growing Wisdom by Dillenbeck, Gerald
Wisdom to Survive by Dillenbeck, Gerald
Words of wisdom by Duffy, Alex
Seeking Wisdom To Higher Ground by B., Robertina
The Economics of Wisdom by Olson, Richard
Painful Wisdom by Barden, Gregory R

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The Best Wisdom Poems

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Disposable Wisdom

Each day Annie Lesley opened a can
Her eighty-six-year-old hands trembling
As she sat with her cat and ate pet food
What is wrong with this elder’s rendering?

Pride swallowed to remain independent
Large, sunken eyes peered from her weathered face
Her late spouse a decorated hero
Annie’s lifestyle a national disgrace

More enlightened cultures all over the world
Have revered their seniors throughout history
Asians and Native Americans
Are just two who honor their ancestry

Polynesians, other Pacific tribes
Respect the wisdom that comes with age
Seniors are welcome in family homes
But here in the states they’re placed in a cage

Bone-thin Annie Lesley chose to be free
Amazing neighbors with her endurance
When social services tried to intervene
She fought with remarkable resilience

Old photos on walls told many great tales
But only purring Tibby was listening
Each morning she rose to care for her cat
Until the day that Tibby went missing

In tears she claimed he must have been poisoned
Though in cat years he was older than she
Each day she sat by the window, staring
Awaiting the homecoming of Tibby

She’d been abandoned by society
Lost in the world’s most “progressive” nation
For sacrificing her spouse in World War II	
Annie received little compensation

This widowed war bride never had children
Her mate had met his fate in Normandy
Posthumous awards she dusted each day
Annie’s life was defined by loyalty

To a man and a cat who never came home
And the vigil she kept all alone
Ended quietly one warm summer night
When an angel came to take Annie home

With a can of cat food in hand when found
Annie had nothing else to eat in her house
This is the way a veteran’s wife died
And tear stains had blemished her faded blouse

Although seniors’ wisdom is heeded
In societies that grow from history
Too many like Annie lead lonely lives
Wisdom untapped, they die in poverty

Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2009

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I hear much joy in the music,
View elation in the dance
Feel happiness in the laughter,
Soulful spirit in poetic romance.

I feel love in the language
Swelling in my heart.
Reverence for God and Goddess
In beloved families far apart.

I love the customs and the people
As they celebrate each day
Living life to the fullest
In their honor I wish to pray

That I may learn to be as humble
As loving and as kind,
To be blessed by elder wisdom
In every senior that I find.

This is a gift to give my children
To open their sleepy little eyes.
To see the value in rejoicing,
To reach for stars up in the skies.

When they learn this knowledge 
To listen well to the sages,
They will know of sacred secrets
Handed down through the ages.

© 2014 Connie Marcum Wong

Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2014

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To Take Each Day As It Comes

To take each day as it comes
To gratefully praise The One
Joyfully face the new dawn’s grace,
That's now my everyday plan.

To take each day as it comes
To guard my thought as it roams
On anything or anyone
That's now my everyday plan.

To take each day as it comes
To be careful with my words
To use the value of my hands
That's now my everyday plan.

To take each day as it comes
To do everything I can
And bring a smile to not just one
That's now my everyday plan.

To take each day as it comes
To celebrate other’s gain
Not consciously cause another's pain
That's now my everyday plan.

To take each day as it comes
Not all the time comes the sun
For sorrow comes to everyone
And that I must understand.

To take each day as it comes
And know that I’m but a man
I will be glad, life’s not that bad
And do my part in God’s plan.

*A resolution during a time of disappointment.

Kim Patrice Nunez
04 August 2015
image credit: Edwin Hofert

Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2015

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Tenderly ...
As if robin's eggs ...
I consider the brittle fragments of her heart,
Cupped in my tarnished Tin Man hands ...
Not taking for granted the entrustment of their care,
I lay them out like priceless puzzle pieces
Upon a surface of loving intent.
She is but finery, fragile,
And I her fool.

Considerately ...
As if leaves on water ...
I recall the women and passions squandered,
Encounters and affairs and intimacies ...
As spicy, splendid and varied as an artist's palette -
Some, immutable as acrylics, others fading like watercolors in the sun,
Swept away by life's intrepid courses and floods.
Love is but portion, fragile,
And I its fool.

Delicately ...
As if disarming a bomb ...
A Muslim man cleans the lifeless body of his little boy,
Killed by a roadside explosive device while riding his bicycle ...
A mine left behind by an enemy brigade, retreating his town as part of a truce,
His Hindu brother's brigade - the brother he loves ... and despises.
Washing his son with his tears, he thinks of naught but vengeance.
Peace is but sufferance, fragile,
And I its fool.

Exquisitely ...
As if fine goose down ...
I scrutinize the keynotes of my existence,
Turning them gently over with the voltaic breath of my thoughts ...
To the effectuation that none afford me the broadsword of achievement,
That the faults far outnumber the fortunes ... successes, far short the falls.
Still, I've known the passions and shadows as deeply as any,
Formidable joys, exquisite agonies, and sublime oblivions.
Life is but passage, fragile,
And I its fool.

Poignantly ...
As if fine lacy crystals ...
We gild the memories of lost loves and those passed,
Consummate hurts and piercing heartaches ...
Each and every one a precious memento of the depth of affections realized,
Scars and wounds, the invaluable proofs of how profound our devotions, thus. 
Oh, how intensely we love! How dearly we grieve!
And how acute our need for BOTH!
Pain is but love, fragile,
And we its fools ...

Its sad, happy fools.

** FIRST PLACE in the "Fragile" Poetry Contest, John Hamilton, Sponsor. **

Copyright © Gregory R Barden | Year Posted 2017

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Cascading Love

By the breath of God frost is given ...
Hast thou entered into 
the treasures of the snow? ...
Out of whose womb came the ice?
and the hoary frost of heaven, 
who hath gendered it?
— Job 37:10; 38:22,29

Standing in the winter cold,
tasting the small snowflakes that fall
I think of you, my God ...
and your boundless cascading love
You revealed to me the secret treasures of the snow
How each small act of kindness
is like one little glistening snowflake that the wind blow
Your love so heavenly dispersed
across the whole earth
Billions and billions of countless snowflakes,
I open my mouth wide to taste
So much heavenly love cascading down;
I see the virgin snow shining all around,
as more snowflakes of love fall to the ground
Your godly wisdom shows us
that the heart of man wax cold
So You reveal the warmth of Your endless love
in the form of the falling snow
Your evergreen shower of white love covers the whole earth
Each small snowflake 
represents an act of pure faith birth love
given to each individual
Billions and billions of souls,
and billions of countless yet-to-be more
Be fruitful and multiply God said:
Let the whole earth abound with love
I see the snowflakes of cascading charity
shed abroad from the heavens above
Such pure, falling white love 
Oh, how the cold feels so warm!
So much infinite love cascading down
Your love, my God, truly transforms
And more snow, more snow ... more snowflakes
keep falling out from the storm — 
like hoar frost manna
falling down from the sky
They’re heavenly tears of joy ...
gently melting in my mind
Of whose falling,
I now know the meaning why

Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2017

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Invisible Colors

About our first parents,
here’s something beautiful to know
Adam was created perfect,
and from out of him, Eve followed
God said to His Son:
You and I, We are One 
Lets make them like us,
in Our image color them invisible
Give them one rainbow soul,
two spirits with hearts of gold
But the most precious gift of all,
God gave them a skin of faith
So they could live under the Son,
bathing in the bright rays 
of His love, free and unafraid
Using invisible colors,
is how Adam and Eve were body painted
With a faith paintbrush,
their children were meant to be picture perfect sainted
God made us all in His image — 
beautiful invisible colors
God said teach your children this one thing:
to love one another
God said to Adam and Eve:
your children are all sisters and brothers
For I have blessed them, you see,
to look like My Son and Me — 
Pure and holy invisible colors
We were meant to be fruitful and abound,
growing in love for one another
And I will confess right now:
We are One ... everybody connected to each other
And I love you and you and you,
for you are all my sisters and brothers
Looking good in our spiritual skin:
beautiful invisible colors ... 
beautiful invisible colors

Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2017

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What dead eyes sees

                    Imagine you have died ~ a free spirit without a cry

  Walking down the avenue ~ people passing straight through you

     Hearing whispering thoughts to blind ~ some of good intentions ~ others 


  Emotions running wild ~ the same old jungle ~ the same old sigh ~ you 

           begin to wonder why

  Imagine seeing yourself ~ an unfamiliar face ~ someone else of 

           another time or place

Somehow you could see the good and bad ~ why hearts are broken ~ the 

                inner sad

Imagine you could live again ~ knowing fully well ~ No one loses ~ no one 

   All the patterns and deceptive roles ~ a chaotic system ~ way 

             out of control

 Imagine you have another chance ~ to right some wrongs ~ to understand 

     ~ the way things really go down ~ 

  Would you be the same ~ You'd surely say ~ It’s impossible to tell ~ 

within the concepts  of heaven and hell

Copyright © Arturo Michael | Year Posted 2018

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What goes up must come down. 
No colors can define who you are. 
You may own a cart or limousine. 
We'll still reach the end when it is near. 
I may be poor today and eat from trash. 
Tomorrow, you can't tell. I'll earn some cash. 
The bed where you lie is soft and wide. 
I sleep at a sidewalk and the stars are my lamp. 
You wake up each morn' with a feast on your table 
While we are scavenging to fill stomachs when we're able. 
Our destiny isn't written in the stars. 
We work for a living to thrive in this life. 
Be thankful every morning you witness the sun 
And pray tonight that no one lives same as I. 
Wheels come in full circle,rolling round and round. 
Today you'll be on top, 
I am watching from the ground. 
Let us bear in our minds that we are better than birds. 
Our loving Father ensures each mouth is fed. 
Not even the smallest details can pass by His eyes. 
So plant a seed of kindness and reap a better life. 

sponsor:FRANK H.

name of 

*5th Place winner

Copyright © Aiyah de Torres | Year Posted 2014

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Enlighten Me

"Haiku of enlightenment"

all explanations 
a perceptive, world of green
mocking the land

summoned bird calls
tantra and morality 
zestful garden-----------------  in waiting 


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014

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To Forgive Or Not To Forgive

To forgive or not to forgive, that is the question.
When you are offended, whether real or imagined
by a loved one, a friend, or by someone esteemed,
do you confront the other, or resolve to be patient?

If by some stroke of luck, the offender apologized
but turns around, talking glib gobbledygook,
do you keep silent and still, looking cool as ice,
or do you tell it to his face, that he’s more than a crook?

At such time as this, or any time for that matter,
it is best to forgive whether he asks for it or not.
Do not poison your heart with cyanide blather;
bitterness can bother like a bat’s up your butt!

Forgiveness frees the offended from the devil’s deceit;
and makes you smile at the debtor, as his debt, you forfeit.

*First line draws on Hamlet's soliloquy, Act III, Scene 1; W. Shakespeare

A modern sonnet.  
06 October 2015
Poem of the Week - October 11 to 17, 2015

Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2015

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The Ladybug's Whisper

And the ladybug placed a caressing whisper into dragonfly’s ear,
“I want to fly again. I crave to flap my tiny wings towards sunset’s crux. 
I want to breathe again. I want to be held like winds within canyon’s dialect.”

“But, first, I just need to scream.”


Let me be your breeze.



The power to swim!
The power to grin!
The desire to never, ever fall again!

Let us embrace conundrum’s waterfall to be its resolution!
Let us allow joy to be our bedtime lullabies!
Let us let love IN without full moon’s dependency!

Ride on this impeccable jet stream towards animosity’s downfall!

Look in the face of your beautiful enemies
Daring it to stand above pedestal’s fallacy
Let your radiance be their final intimacy!

Take incipient steps,
Upon mended asphalt wishes

Let them tremble at the sight of your beautifully embattled smile
Knowing they will never reciprocate

Where desert winds kneel in our reflections
For we are an oasis
Forged of blood diamonds; sacrificial memories

Breezes become gusts
Gusts become worshipped exhales

All that I am!
All that you are!
All that they hope to be!

Our Yin & Yang
Will release proverbial boomerangs
Breaking vicious circles upon this genesis

We sway above greener pastures.

Gusts become breezes.


Breaking enigmatic mirrors to see your true colors
With a scream to paint your new canvas


The time is now,
Let your two feet become one.

Rise, my ladybug!

Say goodbye
To detrimental trials

And caress newfound trust
Within a gentle

S				E
       M		 L

©Drake J. Eszes

Copyright © Drake Eszes | Year Posted 2013

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The Poet Warrior

My Dear Enemy
Here I am
In full armor
My quill is full of arrows
My bow is taunt and ready fro battle
My horse is pristine and shiny black
I am your enemy
As you are mine to the death
I shall take my bow and arrow
Pierce you through the heart
My king shall praise and honor me
For many battles so well fought
I know I have to shoot my arrows
To save my own pitiful soul

My dear enemy
I just long for you to know
Every arrow, every drop of blood
Every soul that must depart
Due to my fine skills and sharp arrow darts
I die along with you
I know not who you are
Yet a weep for your lost soul
I imagine other times
Maybe we would sit for tea and cookies
Laughing over words of glee
You and I so battle ready
I am sorry for all the battle scars
The blood that flows so deep
Every arrow that leaves my bow
I am sure it too, also weeps

My Dear Enemy
I prey today that before the dusk
One of you will have a finer bow
My heart no longer has the will
To fill my quill with arrows so
Today, I let one of you end my day
No longer can I live on this way
All my fine arrows fired
Have finally been on target
My Dear Enemy
I love you as any man
I have only love for humanity
I pray one day
Our Kings and Queens shall feel this way
As off the battle field, I am carried away

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015

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Everyday is Beautiful

Everyday is beautiful, son,
and no that's not being optimistic.
You're here - you're alive - with one more day on your plate.
That's just being realistic.

Tuesdays are for Tenderness, for the little things found beneath the rubble:
a flower peeking or a new-dream seeking, even though its subtle.

Wednesdays are for Wishes --- like hoping on that pretty, pretty star,
for something just around the corner is never all that far.

And Thursdays are for Thoughtfulness, on those reflective afternoons,
where all of life hangs between your ears, as your heart struggles to make room
for all the love that's bursting inside of you ...

            (I know it's there!
                        hiding somewhere ... perhaps beneath the dirt and muck)

Fridays are for Friendship --- to the ones who you know true,
and hold you oh so close, despite all of life's various hues.

Saturdays are for Sanctification from all of distraction's clutter;
an occasion to make small your piece of toast, for there's too much of time's butter,
spreading oh so thin on Little You.

And Sundays are for Sunflowers, and the smile that ensues on even the coldest soul.
Treasure it child, if you ever see it bloom, for she's a fragile beauty that makes you whole.

Yes, my son ... EVERY day is beautiful, and Mondays especially,
for that's the day we praise our Mothers,
for giving birth to us at such a time as this      (God knows it wasn't easy)
And no, I don't need to see the Seven Wonders,
to know how beautiful life can be,
for I've got all the splendor I can handle ...

... seven days a week.

Image Used: The I Hate Mondays T-Shirt Picture

Written April 10th, 2016
For the Images Contest Hosted by Silent One

Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2016

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The Little One is Three

I see his smiles
His sisters laughter in the breeze
I confess a cold heart, warmed

When though will I be free?
From the pain of long ago years
From tears that soaked my humanity away
	I love you all
if only I could stay
   	Life seems so trivial

so when I float away
	who will

Blow out the candles
	as cake and happiness are eaten away

We never met
You and I

	An war or crime or crippled thoughts
	Shall never stop
	The celebration of birthday dreams
	Friendships never lost

The wishing well is full
Illuminated by an intrinsic brightness

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2018

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Were I to know your depth’s degree
I’d want to dive quite fearlessly
give all the things required of me
to plunge into our destiny.

Were I to touch the heaven’s gate
I’ll even bear hell’s jealous hate
for being in this tortured state
you’ll see that I’m your destined fate.

Were I to scale the steepest height
of friendship's pleasure and delight
I’d want to share our deep insight
fun and laughter each day and night.

Were I to taste your sweetest kiss
I’d want to stay, that I won’t miss
for too long I did wait for this
the moment our souls meet…a bliss.

Were I to hear your heart’s desire
I'd want to touch, feel the fire
the fiercest heat while wind and choir
rise to the highest notes of lyre.

Were I to hold the strength of yours
absorb the substance of your force
I’d want to leave a charted course
and row with passion’s guiding oars.

Were I to ride the ocean’s waves
before it feeds the tempest’s graves
I’d want the shelter your heart saves
for you my love, it’s I… who craves.

But, were you to ask this of me 
be your true love eternally
I still cannot accept, you see
…this is my sad hypocrisy.

So I'll pretend not loving you
I'd rather hurt ourselves in lieu
of people who shared our lives' hue
before my world got splashed by you.

What is Your Hypocrisy Contest - 1st Place
08 April 2015

Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2015

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Moment of Truth

I was walking with two friends of mine,
when we saw a woman
who was tall, beautiful and black
They spoke lewd to her,
so she didn't speak back
In their rejected anger,
they cursed her in a cruel, mean tone
That's when I interceded,
and said leave the poor woman alone
My two friends looked at me
like I was some kinda traitor
That day we parted ways,
there would be no more days of see ya later

In a moment of truth,
will you stand up for the truth
Or will you back down,
and keep your mouth shut

It's moments like those
that reveal what manner of person you are
Will you be naked or clothed,
will your spirit be dark,
or will it shine like a star

Nobody ever said friendships are forever,
not when you have to compromise
your integrity in a matter

In a moment of truth,
don't keep your mouth closed
Let your voice roar
like a lion, strong and bold

Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2016

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Temptation Itches On All Living Things

Temptation Itches On All Living Things

Temptation itches on all living things
often nobody knows just how it stings,
not the icky-glues in its sticky pastes
nor the rotten fruits in its wasted wastes.

She the vixen nobody could resist
her vanishing pleasures - elusive mists,
long legs descend from heavenly skies
later, such dark pains in lamented cries.

Victim once thought to be heavenly bound
lost, voiceless, no understandable sound,
finds temptress, sexy wares designed to win
she that siren alluring to all men.

You scratch that itch, risking your own peril,
finding wounds that can never be sterile!

12-15- 2016

For Daniel Turner's , What Was I Thinking,  Contest
15 December 2016

Last verse inspiration, from his poem "Between the Lines

Couplet sonnet
Rhyme Scheme:  a a – b b – c c – d d – e e – f f – g g
10 syllables each line.

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2016

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Muse On The Loose

Where did she go...she left me in a spin,
     with words fragmented...where do I begin?
She took my thoughts held tight within her arms,
     and now I fear I'm left without her charms.

My missing thoughts and words in pieces lay;
     without a plan, they'll stay in disarray.
Where did she go, that artist of my soul;
     without her lead, no thoughts, no words, no goal.

My muse is on the loose, oh help me, please.
     She's gone for good...or is this just a tease?
My muse is on the loose, what happens now...
     I'm crushed, forsaken...this I can't allow.

I looked into the den where books are kept;
     way high up on the shelves, and then I crept
down cellar stairs among the antiques there,
     then up again, climbed second story stair.

I looked in every corner, neath the bed;
     no sign of her, but then I soon was led
up to the attic with great window view...
     entranced, she sat, and that is when I knew.

My muse was on the loose to find new scenes,
     and now beside her, inspiration streams.
The vision of the mountains, valleys, sky... 
     so beautiful it made me gasp and sigh.

Together we sat weaving thoughts and words,
     while hearing the sweet lullaby of birds.
I learned a poet's muse must be set free
     sometimes to find new views successfully.

Sandra M. Haight

~2nd Place~
Premiere Contest: Muse On The Loose
Sponsor: John Lawless
Judged: 09/12/2016

Iambic Pentameter in Couplets

Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2016

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Bit Of Truth And Wisdom, Found In Old Age

Bit Of Truth And Wisdom, Found In Old Age

At that age wisdom says life is a joke
consider blindness of other poor folk.
Stop to ponder why on earth we exist
you may just find giving on that big list.

To live well, love hard and thus procreate
easy to see easier to relate.
Living life together with your soulmate
should be a part of everybody's Fate!

Finding life is not about what you got
should be holding solid, number one spot
Tis more about life lived well and deeper
with one you found, knew to be a keeper

If long life, happiness is your great aim
if reaching not for it, you are to blame!

Robert J. Lindley, 1-16-2017

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2017

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I see you coming, old age
Approaching at an ever accelerating pace,
Your face so grim
Your expression so austere
Your look so menacing,
A frightening sight you are
Many battles I have fought in life
With vigor and youth at my side
Thus victorious I emerged


Now that my allies slowly abandon me
One after the other,
I am left alone the last battle to fight
A battle, I know beforehand I am bound
To lose


At this moment as trials begin
When all seem to get tougher by the day
A new ally I have found, willing to help me,
All my courage to amass for to confront you,
Oh merciless old age:
The wisdom I have acquired all these years 
Of my life! *

© Demetrios Trifiatis
       18 June 2017

* This poem was honored as POTW on the 25th of June 2017. I thank everyone who has appreciated it as everyone who visit me and comment for without their love nothing would have been possible. THANK YOU PS! 

Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis | Year Posted 2017

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Truth Found, Recovery Of A Broken Soul

Truth Found, Recovery Of A Broken Soul

In nightmarish dreams he found such great dread
Of lost hope, life's decay, eyes of the dead.
Day's clear lights his damaged mind repaired
Deep traps from which his heart had been ensnared.
In sunshine he felt life's returning glows
Erase night pains and darkest of its blows.
As sun waned and shadows of dark arrived
He felt again, joy vanquished, love deprived.

What of this devilish, persistent foe
With such powers, its broken claws regrow.
Hope alone, can evil be defeated
Or must Fate decree, his life be cheated.
In sun's bright shining hours his heart grew bold
Oft from tales of warriors of old.
On such bright days his thoughts returned to her
Destroyed dark powers that made life a blur.

Where deepest love passions reign, hope survives
For in man's inner soul, true love revives.
Times and cherished moments serve to remind
With love's great truth, one can never go blind.
Standing firm with knowledge of man's powers
One can face even darkest of dark-hours.
Faith, love and hope are the right paths to take
All the rest are results of blind mistakes.

Armed with newfound wisdom and clearer path
He had weapons to overcome Fate's wrath.
Every night before falling fast asleep
Head bowed, he recited prayers true and deep.
As new dawn's brighter lights came, his heart knew
Torments were over, as joys in life grew.
Found true, cursed Fate can be defeated
If one but lives, each day truth is greeted.


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2017

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A Slow Hand, Deep Thoughts And True Pen

A Slow Hand, Deep Thoughts And True Pen

Each time I write of my crashed hopes and dreams
mind falls into black-depths, sends cold shivers.
Tempted to falsely praise my misdeeds and schemes
I return to my vow, embracing realm of true givers.

Such leaning towards positive and the good
once was abhorrent, not in my prideful style.
When lightning bolts struck me as they should
I found my life was a massive rubbish pile.

With pen and paper I then sought truth to tell
of life, love, loss and darkness once embraced.
O' yes, I did not hide my parades in hell
nor innocent young life I once so disgraced.

Years flew by and age gave its usual aches
far too oft, I swore to give my poetry up.
Darkness whispered, take well deserved breaks
porch lounge sit, empty thy hot coffee cup.

Ah, but my muse, she heard and was not amused
up she bolted, screaming like a raving banshee.
Reminded me of my past, my life I had so abused
what a coward I would be if I now sought to flee.

Pen in hand and regretful of my wasted past
I write to send some light and truth boldly tell.
Praying some good comes, a few words may last
redeem myself from youthful days dancing in hell.

( Seek to do good and watch as darkness flees )

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2017

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Global Warming

As I wake up to the dawn of another day
I wrestle with myself and ask why bother
Just another day, without any warmth
There is a chill in my heart, sadly this is true

The coffee pot sings, an attempt to lift spirits
I confess I welcome even this small endeavor
A machine trying to cheer me up,
In this a cold cold cold world

How can this be?
Me so thirsty and cold?
I hypnotically prepare for another day
As I curse Al Gore

I see you all scurry from here to god knows where
Curious I ponder what’s the rush?
Snow falls from a dreary sky
A blanket of white to chill us even more

A child romps happily in springtime meadows
Chasing butterflies and dreams
His heart now filled with Vodka Ice
How did such warmth turn into an ancient glacier?

In the subway deep underground
I see a stranger, a woman, tears falling
Icicles form under her eyes
She too has a frozen heart

I would hug her, with words of comfort
If not for the invisible cold barrier between us
We are many on this subway of desire
So close, yet we all feel the northern winds of loneliness

This world of love and compassion has become frozen
We have forgotten the season of spring
We have been frozen out of emotions garden
We shiver here in the cold together alone

I rise up from the subways depths
I know my heart was murdered by the arctic winds
Something inside of me , cries
Go Go Go melt something, anything

I pass the newsstand selling flowers
I buy one single rose
The woman with icicle tears is nearby
I hand her this rose

I whisper, what this planet needs
Is some global warming
She smiles a sad thank you
As I walk away, hoping 

Global warming takes hold

Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2014

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Call Me Insensitive

You call me insensitive,
But I don't believe that's true;
Because, you see,
It's all about me.
It's not about you.

You say your opinion doesn’t matter,
That I’ve no respect for your point of view;
But I do if we agree,
Because it’s all about me.
It’s not about you.

You say I’ve no compassion,
No feelings for your troubles or your blues;
But none of us is issue free,
And mine are all about me;
But…not about you.

A time old adage, 
“To thine own self be true.”,
Is all about choices you see.
My choices are all about me,
And, certainly, not about you.

So, when its time to make your choices
You’ll understand and know it’s true; 
To decide what will or will not be,
Won’t be at all about me;
It will be all about you

But special moments confront each of us,
When what matters isn’t “Me”.
And while these moments are few,
They’re not about me, not about you.
For a time, it’s all about “We.”

Yes, “…no man is an island.”
Is a valid point of view;
But if it’s not about “We”, 
Then it’s all about me.
Sorry.  It’s not about you.

Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014

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I Am An Owl

Who can change what it is to be me?
The owl, hidden there in a night's beauty,
a beauty that most don't even try to see.

I am a deceiver in the shadows
who can show you a different light,
and open your eyes, once closed.

Come nearer. I am not known to bite;
there is nothing here to be afraid of.
Who is just your friend in the night?

In darkness, who will hear my call?
I may be wise for my age at times,
though I never claim to know it all.

My voice is heard; still I go unseen.
Tell me who is magical and mystical,
and yet, all things in between?

Owl: mystery of magic, omens, silent wisdom, vision in the night, deception

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2015