Book Poems - Poems about Book

Book and ministry by Adejola Joseph Book and ministry Warring in my member Book and faith Which way to go? Confused as a delayed menstruation Confounded as an ambushed soldier I fought and thought Jah leads the way Victory is sure Victory is certain Hallelujah. Amen....

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In an old book, with torn pages, my soul navigates through labyrinths of dreams, seeking the hidden story in the silence between the lines, where words were never written, I try to fill the gaps with the silence of stars dancing on the sky of oblivion, believing I understand the story that flows like an unseen river through...

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Every morning I open my soul like an old book, where verses stretch wings of light over sleeping dreams, poetry is a spell that turns my thoughts into golden butterflies, dancing through air laden with mysteries and hidden desires. I feel words flowing through my veins like a river of stars, illuminating the forgotten realms of my heart in secret, and...

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Living in an open book, I am everywhere I look, I thought I took a wrong turn, Feeling the fire burn, I yearn for peace. Releasing my hold, Dropping the load, Eroding into the landscape, There's no need to escape, The lesson is taking shape, I am the paper, The vapor in the air, I...

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life is a book in the beginning you hold it in your hands new, fresh, unblemished it is only potential who knows what dreams it holds? at the end you look back at a story, cherished you hate to put it down it's sad to realize it's over it was wonderful, but... so different from the story you imagined when you picked it up...

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Another chapter in my life over much too soon when there's so much more to live it's just not opportune but is Anonymous the author or would it be myself possibly writing this tale so true could it be an autobiography and yet I won't be put on hold my one and only guarantee tho' late won't be overdue when it's check out time for me for...

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L-eaves A-lways I-ntrigue L-onging E-yes, N-aturally E-mploying M-ysterious E-arth's J-oyfulness I-n C-harming A-bode ©bfa060325 Monocrostic (Birthday of Lailene O. Mejica)...

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Loves, kick out all the bad in your brain, don’t let other take up space in your brain. Tell them you have no place, for their games. They pretend to care, but only want to cause you fear. They play mind games, to try to control you, and make you have fear. Life is like...

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If life was a book, Then I would have never picked it up. I would have never kept reading. I would’ve burnt the book the second I had the chance. It’s like a book you know gets bad, but you can’t help but read on. It’s a book, it’s meant to be read. It’s life, it has to be lived. If life...

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Whatever happened to the telephone book enquiring minds need to know there hasn't been one here for years so wherever did it go and what about the telephone box or the answer machine I haven't seen either near it's clear they're few and far between they went the way of the dodo long before their time as not everyone owns a mobile phone and no you...

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Whatever happened to the telephone book enquiring minds need to know there hasn't been one here for years so wherever did it go and what about the telephone box or the answer machine I haven't seen either near it's clear they're few and far between they went the way of the dodo long before their time as not everyone owns a mobile phone and no you...

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More than just word pages It’s a read for all ages Lessons learned and experiences gained Theory through the journey Adventure beyond compare Truth and mysteries foreseen Sentences overflow You come to know Like Flood Gates let out Stories near and far Beyond one’s own belief You will learn to understand Through the atmosphere of the mind It doesn’t matter soft or hardcover You will begin to discover Look and...

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IX. In the ICU, machines create their own songo— ventilator, heart monitor, IV pump— forming an accidental orchestra the clutch of machinery holding time like a hi-hat choking its own decay. Underneath the electronic rhythms the human body maintains its own stubborn organic tempo— proving that even at the edge of existence we are fundamentally musical beings. The climate protestor's chant becomes a militant clave pattern— Save our planet!...

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VI. We are all metric modulations of our former selves—changing time signatures mid-measure, learning to count in odd meters when life refuses to conform to 4/4 expectations finding beauty in 7/8 existence— the off-kilter cadence of becoming. The teenager tattoos pain across her skin in sixteenth-note flurries— razor crescendos marking flesh rimshots echoing in a locked room her body a snare absorbing what no one will hear. But the counselor...

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In the gathering gloom of a winter's afternoon as the light leaches from the room I'm more prone or inclined as comforts tug to recline supine beside the hearth here on the rug with a good book than step outdoors as if you would take a look outside the window should you care it's more than slightly chilly out there with snowflakes blowing in the air better on the floor I think with a...

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