Life Blank Verse Poems | Examples
These Life Blank Verse poems are examples of Blank Verse poems about Life. These are the best examples of Blank Verse Life poems written by international poets.
And, so, with the dawn
of a new night, we met
for song and dancing.
Stars are made for wishing...
while suns are dear sources
of life.
As I get older
And as I amble and imbibe
The wafting of the aroma of roses
And as I get older
I still rock (just not in a chair)
And I roll with the lingo
Of the younger generation
I think things are sick
I try not to throw shade
I think somethings are fire
I am stupidly blessed
(and I say in my Hampton Orphanage drawl)
One hundred percent
As I get older
I find (as Ben Franklin confessed)
That the God of Heaven
Governs the affairs of mankind
The good, the bad and the ugly
And as I get older
(I said older not old)
I am a work in progress
According to the Lord
And as I head to
The autumn of my life
(The words of my Army buddy
And amateur sage Jack
Echo in my mind)
"People say
I am in my own little world,
That's ok,
at least everyone knows me there."
WHEN I LOOKED BACK
WHEN I LOOKED BACK AT IT ALL
ALL I CAN DO WHEN I LOOKED BACK
IS LAUHGED AND LAUGHED
WOW IT FEELS SO GOOD TO LAUGH ABOUT IT ALL
WHEN I LOOKED BACK AT IT ALL
ALL I CAN DO IS LAUGHED AND LAUGHED
DAMN I WAS NAIVE
WHY THE CLOCK WAS TICKING
THINKING YOU COULD CHANGE
THNINKING I COULD CHANGE
THINKING I COULD CHANGE YOU
THINKING YOU COULD CHANGE ME
ALL I CAN DO WHEN I LOOKED BACK
IS LAUHGED AND LAUGHED
ALL I NEEDED TO DO WAS TO SWITCH DIRECTION
TURN THE PAGE AND CREATE THE CHAPTERS
WHY THE CLOCK WAS TICKING
ALL I CAN DO WHEN I LOOKED BACK
IS LAUHG AND LAUGH
I SHIFT MY LIFE
I CREATED MY FUTURE
I LOVE MY LIFE
I FREE MYSELF
ALL I CAN DO WHEN I LOOKED BACK
IS LAUHG AND LAUGH
WOW IF FEELS SO GOOD
ALL I CAN DO WHEN I LOOKED BACK
IS LAUHG AND LAUGH
...it is impossible for God to lie, we who have taken refuge
would have strong encouragement to hold firmly
to the hope set before us."
Hebrews 6:18
Some parents fortify, supporting kids
to stay on top when testing waters’ depth.
Great expectations, ends, ev’n enemies,
are God's Supply, the wind and weight of wings.
A worthy teacher who embraces life
communicates those skills which stay the storms
for fledgling sailors, novice on their course.
God’s Sacred Scriptures give sound teaching scope.
A mentor stands as aide to steady growth
for doubting deckhands who can misconstrue.
Wise lessons bear resolve for hasty choice
when God's own Spirit is the mainstay - truth.
An anchor is one worthy of belief,
whose balance holds the navigator’s trust-
that hope which guardsmen put in the Pilot’s hand
God's Son, my Anchor, yea my Cornerstone.
What is the water of the Bay?
Is it the water that gives life to others?
Is it more than that?
As I look from atop the mountain I see beauty in the bay.
The water around her feet makes her seem like she is walking across the waterline.
As she sings with no one around I hear beauty in her voice.
If only she knew that she had beauty in voice, heart, and vision.
At least I know the truth of her love as I can see the vision of perfection.
Of course, my vision of perfection is when the person does not see themselves as more than humble.
That is the concept of true beauty when they realize that the quality of being humble is beautiful. It is only one concept, but it is the most important.
It is Destiny as her voice sings it proudly!
I walked into a room and did not know it well
yet, feel I should, for I have been there many times,
not a liminal space, though sometimes this is so.
But this time, oddly, somewhere I should know and be.
Should I recognize those strange eyes that gape at us?
Some duty that I should as duty stares at me.
Yet I know them not, nor the paintings in the hall.
The not familiar couch where lovers once had lain,
its crimson redness gash against the dreary walls.
Was this with you, or in some other life I had?
Are you even here or I? Truth, I do not know.
FEBRUARY 2024
I've got the shoes of life on the wrong way
so chop off my legs and let me walk with the stump,
so I won't have to take this anymore.
I'd rather walk left, left, left
than right, right, right
to fall into your arms, into your ballad of wrongs.
But I'd rather walk right, right, right
than left, left, left
to fall into a damned blackhole of I-can't-take-this-anymore.
So, please, chop off my legs and let me walk with the stump,
so I won't have to take this anymore.
We seem to be losing our famous entertainers so fast. Its not that they can last forever. But its that they must finish their talent in Heaven, where they can rest. The best part is that their recorded music lasts a life time. However, their bodiily existence is gone and we can't see them perform in person.
The new performers are good, and entertain our minds for the present. But the old ones we grew up with can never be forgotten or replaced.
So here's to you Connie, Beach Boys' leader. and all the others. Your music keeps us going. Keeps us believing, they were always on our minds.
See you when I get there, again. L-O-V-E.
The flood of life bring sorrow
Mind become empty in a moment or two
Calling for perspective on the event
Almost forgot what's the most important
in that moment of time
The flood comes slowly
It kept deeper and deeper
Get out people your present was not need at that moment
Get going find a higher place
To settle down till morning.
A gull glides slowly
Through the cloud-grey sky
No sign of hurry,
No hint of worry
Content thus to fly.
Dramatic contrast
To the traffic down below
Human hurry
Human rush
As though its sinful
To go slow.
Maybe somehow
In a very little while
I’ll let time take
Its gentle course
And gull-like
Peaceful go.
The mirror copies—
life responds.
Inside a mirror you are frozen.
A stasis oasis.
As if you’ve entered a black hole—
and God took a screenshot.
Paused,
at the last real still frame.
Everything else…A timeless story.
There is something sacred about a mirror world.
And it’s that you remember the light before it was refracted.
Because that echo—
the silent director to your story—
it’s all you’ve really got.
So, reflect it. And it should bounce back.
This is a mirror world after all.
Timeless vibes on my Spotify,
Reminding me how time thus flies.
Nostalgic memories I can’t condone—
Over the years, I’ve always felt alone.
When life was simple and my mind was free,
Now I’m nothing, a nobody, like a dead man walking me.
Walk me back through time when everything was right—
No more sadness, no more stress, no more tears at night.
Friends who died spend nights staring at the sky.
Mind is empty, soul is dark, ain’t no more envy.
Dot my ‘I’ and cross my ‘T’, surely life goes on—
Back then, four years ago, my mind was so damn heavy.
All these worries and pain can’t buy me a gun.
Shot my past, but I missed—now I’m on the run.
It’s been going on for years, scared to face my fears,
Drowning in silence, buried in tears.
Timeless vibes, but my clock feels broken.
Smiles in the mirror, but they’re only tokens.
I play each track like a voice from the grave—
Memories I couldn’t keep, the ones I couldn’t save.
Still, I rewind, hoping to find peace,
A moment, a song, where the chaos ceased.
The world shows us one thing,
but behind it, something darker lives.
We’re told stories shaped by power,
not truth.
They write history to fit their plans.
They call it help,
but it's control.
Rich men send poor men to die
in wars over land, oil, and power.
And we believe it's for freedom.
Every minute, a man takes his own life.
Every day.
But where’s the movement for him?
We talk about equality,
but some voices are left out.
They build us up just to knock us down
puppets for their games.
We’re fed lies through screens,
taught what to think,
kept asleep while they move in silence.
Some get the best schools.
Others are born just to work and serve.
Kings stay kings because
they’ve locked our minds in cages.
Old cities are being uncovered,
but we’re told nothing.
Technology exists that could change the world
but we only see it decades later.
They’ve built pyramids we still can’t explain.
Billionaires fly to space,
but we don’t even understand our own oceans.
The world is broken.
The truth is buried.
But some of us are waking up.
And we know:
something is coming.
The only thing worse than getting lost in the dark,
is getting lost in the light you’ve mistaken for your own reflection.
A window says “see through.”
A mirror says “see you.”
And this life…
It’ll getcha if you start reflecting.
The serpent?
He works in a mirror factory.
A place where every thought bounces off another,
until the original feeling can’t find its way home.
If you aren’t careful,
you’ll spend a lifetime trapped in reflection—
not memory,
not meaning,
Echo.
Thoughts chasing themselves.
Images copying images.
Like shining a laser
in a mirror house.
You’ll call it thinking.
But it’s really just refracting.
Endless distortion,
in a mind that forgot how to look out.
The eyes, they are not mirrors.
You were made for vision,
not feedback.
For clarity,
not kaleidoscopes.
Look through.
Because asking a mirror for help is like handing your wounds to a photograph, and expecting it to bleed with you.
It’s like whispering secrets to a shadow.
Two Pieces of Wood
From trees that grew somewhere
Cut down and then sawn
A carpenter chose two pieces of wood
One short and one long.
He joined them together
In the shape of a cross
For another good carpenter
Whose life would be lost.
On that cross, crucified,
Jesus, nailed hands and feet
Our precious Saviour,
Crucifixion complete.
“Looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” Hebrews 12:2