Calling Poems - Poems about Calling

vomit on the stairs a qualmish situation where is a mother...

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Calling Death Just sitting in the room. Cold air comes from the window Dawn woke me up from the cemetery. Great early lights Calling the eternal life. The clock has stopped. It’s time The heart is still beating. So fast. Pain and pressure inside Need to change, change the time. Passed years. It’s global All this life has gone away. A...

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Calling To the I Am Alone and on my knees In a valley filled with death's air  His gift: Freedom in an endless expanse My prison's narrow walls collapsed  I walked in green meadows  Seeing the sun Calling Inspired by a prayer from the beautiful "Man's Search for Meaning" by Viktor Frankl....

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Thank you for calling Your Destruction. If you’re calling to bring forth your personal hell, press 1. If you’re calling for emotional devastation, press 2. If you’re calling to enact physical harm, press 3. …Thank you. Your Destruction is now offering a summer sale. If you are interested, please fill out the survey on Your Destruction website. …Please hold…please hold…please hold…please...

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My soul weeps again, calling out your name, Through endless dreams of silence. I lose my roots, no longer knowing where you are, My soulmate, from where will you appear in evenings? I write letters in the night sky, stories drawn in stars, On the canvas of life, I reconstruct the path to you. I wait, lost in twilight, where are...

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Call me spoiled, call me late for a date, call me casual or smirky or crazy But do not call me sloth-like, sluggish, disengaged, placid or lazy. Call me from Mexico, Canada, China, France or another fine place. Call me from Venus, Mars, or a meteorite from outer space. Just don’t call me from Kansas City, for it is...

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The classroom is a quiet forge, and I, a blade in silent fire— shaped by care, tempered in calm, honed to serve a brighter purpose. But into this heatswept chamber she storms, a tempest cloaked in titles— her words the hammer’s fall, striking without measure, without proof. She holds a flame to my calm steel, asking why I do not sparkle like she: “Why do...

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Its time and past..Its your chance to stand.' Maybe The last chance for Australia.? Lies in castle law.? And your hands.?What would our ANZACS from the 50s do? With that I leave it to all Queenslanders, who are 'true blue' I'f you'll protect your mates..Also family I say its great.' And good on'ya mates..As right now i am so...

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I stoked the fire, you drank the flame. I poured out my soul, you ditched the game. I'm gutted, bone dry, howling in pain - You reeled me in, gave nothing back again. Black hole love — you ripped me apart. I'm holding the line, playing my part. I gave and gave, you drained and drained. How did our love become...

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There was a time When my faith was unshakeable The Lord proved That I was remakeable His love for me Was simply not mistakeable The Holy Spirit’s strength Was totally unbreakable For forsaking me He was incapable His call on my life Was just so inescapable But I went rogue And became insatiable I thought His love Would just be replaceable In the world I could hide And then become untraceable Write my...

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Is something calling again From the distant hills outbound? Is it a small voice within Or something hidden without? What awaits you down the road Once you cross the valley bridge? Should you find it and take hold Will it satiate a wish? Will you bring just a trace home ...

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Decidedly, no longer a teenager Even older than the president, I'd wager Curmudgeonly, "that's not music", he mumbles Reliably, "prices are too high", he grumbles Each year, his age is closer to infinity Perhaps that's how many times he wakes up to pee I guess the time has come, I must  accep' it -  To tell you the truth, it's me who's decrepit   ...

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"As the day ends, one is closer to heaven." By Poet My neighbor is old, she can be very bold. Loving to wear lots of fancy gold, and decrepit I am told. You know age is just a thing, numbers one wants to ring. How old are you, that number may make you blue. They tell me I am a decrepit ninety-two, but I can...

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Montreal is my favourite city ~ a mix of old and new. I love its architecture which graces it with style and unique character. It's got more than its share of cathedrals, pubs and restaurants. It boasts a vibrant mingling of local and exotic culture. Well known to be the hub of exquisite cuisine and fine dining. Montreal gathers artists...

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Inspired by Mati, a Stubborn, Beautiful, Black Angora When Mom sat me on the ground, oh, meow, what fun I found. Loved the out, but now I need in more, so I call and rub our door. Where's our stuff they carried out, I still smell familiars about? They just don't hear me yet, I'm sure there's no reason...

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