Best Youthfully Poems


Absolute Truth

Absolute Truth

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

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

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

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

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



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

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


June.04.2018
Active Soul and Mankind's Self-righteousness
Sponsored by: Catie Lindsey
Categories: youthfully, destiny, growth, love,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Missing Teeth

Missing Teeth
                   Authored by Chuck Keys

a rainbow walked into my room
pretty enough to bloom
pink and purple with smiling missing 
teeth, happy as a butterfly cutely reminiscing

fulfilled deep brown eyes open wide sensitive
pensive and alert digesting the entirety of it all
innocently studying my face, yet with question
licking her lips, hungry in thought ...
reciprocal smiles signaling raceless acceptance 

blind to doubt, hate, and experience of time
wanting to thirst willing to trust without rage
demanding more giving more deserving more
she stands proud filled with sugary sweetness
youthfully contrasting my many years  

she calls me papa, i call her princess
missing teeth and all
© Chuck Keys  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: youthfully, friendship, life, love, ,
Form: Free verse

Premium Member May Is Mother's Month

May is Mother’s Month

May is green 
spawning inchworms.
I nest too
cleaning closets,

busily morphing 
contrary to my wont.
Even the slothful move,
to her blossom song. 

In a whistling fragrance
I recall how mother
loved lilacs and wearing
shorts to show a model’s leg.

This was her time, the spring.
Oh yes, and summer, I guess.
Fall and winter, too.

Quick now, the cycle is mine to ponder;
lo, youthfully to long for me
who follows me and calls me mother.

©Kathryn McL. Collins
Categories: youthfully, mother, me,
Form: Free verse

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Your Girl

Take these old hands into yours
remember how they felt when
they were unwrinkled and belonged
to a young girl.

Take this tired smile honey I know
you don't miss and see the temptation
of passion that even now old, burns with a 
deep desire for your kiss.

Take my grey touched, raven hair
and let it dance through your fingers
as if you do not care.

Take these older hazel, green eyes
and see that when looking at you
they still youthfully shine.

Take this old heart for it is still yours
and lend to it the thought that I am
no matter how old, still the same,
your girl.
Categories: youthfully, devotion, for him, i
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Vows of Love That Time and Distance Can Not Deny

Vows Of Love That Time And Distance Can Not Deny

Beyond the ocean and high clifftop ledge 
  Across great expanse of water and skies
Two lovers far apart gave loving pledge
 vowing truest of loving never dies.
Each longing for fever of midnight dreams
  welcoming beats of tender, aching cries
Whilst wading through youthful life as a team
  insuring their foresworn oath never dies.

In the distance, bright pharos blinking glow
  As if in time with lovers longing hearts
Each in night's waning hours wanting to know
  Again that sweet each loving  kiss imparts.
Deep rising crescendo of true love's ache
  With romantic, sensual - hot delights
Rhythm of loving taste as tide's splashing breaks
  As two hearts gasps beauty of tender nights.

Waking to vernal freshness of dawn's rays
  Giving thanks for bounty of love's blessings
As each, across the ocean bows to pray
  Love's eternity - both are confessing.

R.J. Lindley, original  May 2nd 1980
Romanticism, ( The beautiful hope of life, youth and love )
Edit, 9-27- 2006,  6-3-2021, 6-26-2021

Note: 
(1.) *pharos=  
(lowercase) any lighthouse or beacon to direct sailors.

(2.)*vernal= 
ver·nal  /'v?rnl/  , adjective
of, in, or appropriate to spring.

Note two-
Excuse the many edits but fate, time, future insights 
demanded a few changes from the original as was 
first composed by a very none world hardened poet of
a mere youthfully blind 26 years old, in the year 
of 1980.
Removed were several dark verses warning of the
many pitfalls of love and life that I,  as have so very
many other young lads- found to be a quite sad part of 
love when it fails. This new and heavily edited version
represents the beauty and blessing of love when it 
triumphs and gifts its dearest, greatest sweet treasures….
Categories: youthfully, art, kiss, love, passion,
Form: Romanticism

My Memorial Day Family Salute

My mother’s brother lies in a grave in Normandy 
If he had lived I would have known him as Uncle Stanley 
I recall his oval framed picture hanging on Grandma’s wall
Uncle Stanley so youthfully dressed in army attire proud and tall
Stanley’s eyes seem the same as my Uncle Jimmy’s to me
I always imagined Stanley’s voice whenever Uncle Jimmy was with me you see
Most all the men of my mother’s family
Served in their country’s greatest hour of need proudly
My Uncle Jack became a prisoner of war while fighting in Europe
All through my life only once did I ever hear him tell the others of it
Uncle Leonard flew across the English Channel in a flying fortress
I remember him crying when he told my father about this
Uncle J.T. was wounded somewhere in the country of France
I recall him using a cane and joking about never being able to dance
Uncle Ted entered the Great War two years late
He worked in supply – far from the front lines of deadly hate
Uncle Lloyd who is the only brother left alive to this day
Will serve his country yet again on this Memorial Day
As always he will proudly adorn his Marine dress blue on Monday
To lead the city’s festive military parade
I will hoist my country’s flag in my front yard
Sing our National Anthem loudly and hard
I have been so blessed by my mother’s brothers who did so give sacrifice
That I this day am afforded such a rich and wonderful life
Categories: youthfully, family, memorial day, memory,
Form: Rhyme


Humanity

Your abundant display of floccinaucinihilipilification
Has been established from the time of conception
Like a rotten fruit shaken to its kinetic destination 
Is this not what the world expects from this generation?

Beaten into submission by the depreciation of individuality
We have conformed to the ‘it’s all about me’ mantra of impartiality
Boldly pusillanimous which enhances our real appearance of frailty
Covered up by the tinseled boulder of youthfully exuberant gaity

Just like the Quakers decided we were the ignorant ideal in their initial determinism
Then soon conveniently revised it in keeping with exhibition of popular barbarianism
You and I have been fickle in our choice which has down played truth of expressionism
Being on the fence has undermined our value; oh if only we embraced humanitarianism
Categories: youthfully, care, introspection, rights,
Form: Didactic

True Life

Guilty of life once lived in sections,
drastically making changes.
Concessions to new obsessions,
suffering identity exchanges.
Revision life's only pattern,
inborn self considered a sin.
Wherever did the facade end,
and my actual truth begin?
Mercurial soul.
Gale force wind on fire.
Searching recklessly.
Banishing true desire.
Stunted by fear.
Cut low by local society.
Angrily relating ashamed.
Depression continually haunting me.
Loving heart protected by rage.
Angel morphed to succubus.
Ignorant of a different way.
Residual burden of distrust.
No compass showing the way.
Pilgrim of self identity.
Fractured mind's weathervane, 
self destruction my proclivity.
I failed in my search.
Experienced life vainly, physically.
Blind to evolutionary growth.
Recently found enrichment, mentally.
Mistakes made youthfully, forgiven.
I look forward filled with hope.
Fortune smiled upon me.
Enlightened at the end of my rope.
If you believe in second chances,
first gift yourself one.
Explore your own depth, just once,
and you'll find life has just begun.
Presently, daily, I show for practice 
on life's uncertain field.
I want the ball, as a champion should.
Sprinting forward, I'll prove what life can yield.
When mortality knocks on my crypt,
I plan on being prepared.
Living life by my own script.
Lessons learned by decisions erred.
I'll take my place amongst the stars,
having shirked mortal coil.
Ready for what is next.
To my nature, proven loyal.
Come with me on this journey.
Banish need for acceptance.
Live your life entirely.
You'll only get one chance.

-Angel Fatale-
© Ryan Tyler  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: youthfully, emotions, encouraging, forgiveness, inspiration,
Form: Rhyme

Message To the Youth

Even when the world glitch,
All that remain constant is change.
Move from your comfort zone, and begin to stretch,
For your youth is coming of age.

Depend not on ascribe, 
Read books, strive to achieve.
For your old age will not survive,
If your youth is passive.

Move off from your comfort zone,
Now that you are a youth,
For when you start ache in both flesh and bone,
Life will then be as youthfully cute.

The dance reduce,
The work increase,
At old age for the joy not to be induce,
Because mind and soul, with not your youth at peace.

By Will Mountain you can move,
If you work for your old age to be relieve,
Nurture your youth, help it to improve.
For your old age will not survive by fanatic believe.

Youth is active,
Old age is crude
As youth you need to be creative,
And stop being rude.

From Proconsul to sapiens,
Life respond to it dynamic plea,
For dynamism is man,
Work your body for the fat to kill.

Now as youth, now as youth,
The world's power is in those hands.
Raise up your head and tight up your boot!
And come out with the world ever best plan.
Categories: youthfully, age, youth,
Form: Rhyme

June

Janus-faced, Jekyll and Hyde—ever revealing, ever concealing,
Uncompromising, stubborn yet humble and yielding
Notoriously sly yet sunny; playful and youthfully mature,
Ephemeral in spirit, fickle in love, nomadic in nature.



~June 8th
~08/08/2015
Categories: youthfully, june,
Form: Acrostic

Premium Member Sweet Time, Give Me More

Sweet Time, Give Me More



Sad rain fell like hard and raw mental pain
  as great doubts showered my soul
on it's quest to youthfully love , live again

Deep within the fight still shifts and wages
  little battles fought with tiny jabs
of reminding pains as my body quickly ages

Love does it's best to lessen such slashes
  as battles renew each newborn day
in glory's sunrise as sweet time still passes!!!


Robert Lindley, 06-08-2014

Sweeter the life the more dreaded the coming ending,
  fading shadows and low whispers remind me 
 never can cheat death, so stop so foolishly pretending!
Categories: youthfully, blessing, family, hope, love,
Form: Rhyme

Autumn Bloom

Happiness reblooms anew,
And age is less with me.
The flowering is late, the petals few
But planted youthfully by you.
I pluck ecstatically.
© Steve Eng  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: youthfully, love
Form: Verse

Snow

When first it fell - all powdery white
I loved it.
Skipped playfully making snowmen
Throwing snowballs
Giggling youthfully
Took a million photographs
Went on Facebook
Told my stories
Listened to theirs
And then the thaw came
Fell painfully
Slush saturated
Older stiffer
Confidence gone
I dream of summer
© Liz Walsh  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: youthfully, seasons
Form:

Premium Member Those Summer Days

Those sweltering moments
Those summer days are coming.
Day by day, mind numbing
Silent cold is melting.

No longer winter, a lingering
Exchange  budding beauties
Memories of each snow flake.
Vernal equinox, and youthfulness

Is new to me youthfully.
Well anticipated is that memorable
Spring to come, awakening
Senses.
Thirst quenching summer is 
Inching  thirstier  

Followed by soft rain rolling
Down my window pane
After the rain has dried
Song birds sing lullabies

All Things are now spring temporarily
Tempting sessions  of delicate
Pastels, when  summer paces the porch.
Carefully carrying the torch.

Every gradual happening has its 
Assigned time, all ingredients included
And the year, it crawls  ending
Happily.
 Rainbow drops fall

Year ROUND......
YEAR ROUND 
YEAR ROUND
Categories: youthfully, rain, rainbow, summer,
Form: Free verse

Wild Rose

WILD ROSE

The wind is quiet, wearily quiet this evening,
(and they say that winds do not age)
and I,
I am fondling the wild rose
with the inexplicable hope
that I shall find your tear on its petal.
Since you have gone, many a night has lost its brilliance,
and they tiredly walk my dark paths,
as if they grew old too,
just like our memories.
Those wonderful young nights
- in which we used to look at turquoise nets
woven by singing crickets during silky nights –
now they became completely tired and dark,
and they aimlessly wander my dark paths.
The wild rose's petals have long since stopped dancing,
because the wind no longer touches them.
They say that winds do not age,
perhaps not the desert winds,
but the cemetery winds certainly age and die
along with people and flowers.
It is so quiet and dark
in nights without you.
Everything died inside me
apart from the hope
that I shall see your tear on the trembling face of the wild rose,
the same tear
that was conceived in your dear, warm eyes
when I first kissed you.
How the night shone, how the wind was singing youthfully,
and the rose pensively sighed
when your tear slid onto it.
But now, everything is so quiet and dark,
and that wild rose
you used to fondle during storms,
like a lost child,
is perfectly quiet now,
perfectly abandoned.
Our wonderful young nights
grew old amidst our aimless wanderings,
just like I did.
The wind is so quiet this evening, so tiredly weak,
it pushes the night along my dark paths like a tired old man,
and I,
I am courting death like an aged old man,
because I know the end is near,
that our young nights shall become older with each new day,
and that your wild rose shall fade and completely disappear.


© Walter William Safar
Categories: youthfully, love, night, old, lost,
Form: Free verse
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