Those quiet times in the night,
You hear the voices in my mind.
The decisions and concerns,
Of the heart trying to find love,
From the very start.
I feel like I'm being pulled apart,
As a robot with no heart.
I’ve tasted the sweetest of lips—
plump, embedded in rare nectars.
The scent of your skin lingers on me:
a velvety, flawless cashmere of senses,
an aroma envious of exquisite flowers' perfumes.
I’ve tasted the sweetest of lips...
and the scar that was left in my soul.
Note: The background art was AI-assisted and curated solely to enhance the dark, somber mood of my original poem.
have I enough?
Adding up the cause,
Because the cost, is gathering
Sum bodies hungry
Justice and cause
Lucrative
Makings of large sums of money
Yet! improvised lacking to show subtenant sustenance
Plenty of no food, nor drink other elements
Though I need to live and survive, even without seeds?
have I enough?
9/30/26
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2026©
Peace is when you stop chasing
what was here, what was there,
when worries turn to silence
and calm fills up the air.
When you enjoy your moment,
with happiness in your heart,
you feel, you listen, you breathe in nature,
and hear its peaceful art.
When you start finding yourself within,
you find the peace that lives within.
You feel happy with everyone,
and see a part of yourself in everyone.
Sharing without thinking of having less,
caring without expecting anything,
having fun like a child,
free from the weight of everything.
It is not the world that changed,
the world within you became peaceful.
The world within you,
under the same endless sky
Perhaps the sky is also a world
that quietly lives within you.
For when the world within is peaceful,
the world around you can be peaceful too.
Let peace begin within our hearts,
For every change begins with a start.
When we choose compassion, love, and grace,
We take one step toward a more peaceful place.
~RA~
We live in a world where we choose
To just completely cut off one another
Where we can simply hit a button that allows us
To have no contact with another
And then we wait
We wait till we can't take it anymore
That we click that very same button
We used to push the other away to see
If they sent a message
Posted a status
Liked a picture
Tagged a post
To than sit and wait some more
The More time we waste
Just to waste more time on
someone we didn't want
To see
Didn't want to talk too
Didn't want anything from
So we block
We forget
We move on
There's a tendon in my calf rhymes with my surname
I call it my a- Gillies
Most would know it's common name
connecting to the ankle the achilles
Two months have been unable to do a daily run
an hour so of fun
This right tendon has been torn I am forced to limp
Finding alternative exercise no desire to be a wimp
Each day the injury receives some heat
my leg upon a stool my bum upon a seat
With hot water I fill a water bottle
Most unusual for me to have to hobble
When I lay on my deathbed,
counting my last heartbeats,
I want you to be the last person,
whom I meet.
We'll share our laugh and our sorrow ,
where I quietly hope to live till tomorrow.
Thousands of flashback flooding in front of my eyes,
yet I only want to relive the moment I have spent with you twice.
In the end I hope ,
you'll cherish me forever the way I do,
and love me until the next time we meet,
cause I am laying on my deathbed counting my few heartbeats.
As moths, man draws near to light --
Sun bathing by day, moon bathing
By night – they both can burn, you
Know – days, more apt the skin,
As for nights, brave play a potentially kindling
Part -- Love, the oldest inflaming protagonist~
And the theater, a highly, combustible human
Heart….
This man is too hurt to move on and forget,
he holds onto pain, not letting it escape
from his clutched hands stained with guilt;
that's something safe in his grip.
This man will go on in search of hope,
destroying his past, trying to cope.
Are there bitter regrets and roses with thorns
whenever a flashback sends him back?
He'd rather grieve than remember words
his sweetheart said to make him feel a wrack;
she hid a secret from him, he often wondered
if she was committed to another guy who cared.
A lot of hurt shows up in intense emotions,
a lot of hurt controls a person's moods.
This man will go on in search of hope,
he will walk on the longest and thinnest rope
to find a kind soul that understands his need,
someone who reaches out, sharing love without greed;
will he forgive who hurt him and return to smile,
spotting a big rainbow dazzling with morning sunshine?
He can forgive others, not himself,
it sounds strange to express grief;
disappointment keeps him at bay,
a careless child in foolish play.
Oh, regardless all, he's in search of hope;
he climbs up avoiding a sliding slope.
So bittersweetly fair of face; I stare at a breathing dream,
baring the sweet taste of smoke on his lips,
as I longingly yearn to trace mine over. Your bitter secrets and untold words.
Through breaths that fall short—
and sweetened lips I pine to part
like torn paper sugar packets.
my simple and tranquil sweetheart,
how much even of a day,
reawakens in all those who are returning at dawn
beneath a tree
watching earnestly
at eyes still bright with having seen you.
I kiss fingers that have touched words they would not understand;
I listen a long while to the rhythm of their shadow where the old evenings hold night prone.
(Blackout of Tell me my simple and tranquil sweetheart by Emile Verhaeren)
Every day hurts a little more,
Feels like I'm sleeping on a concrete floor.
Every day I feel worse,
Wear my body like a curse.
My energy drained by years of pain,
Every moment lost came with no gain.
So many passions set aside,
So many dreams I learned to hide.
And every day that I look back,
I see the widening of every crack.
A stolen childhood wrapped in shame,
My heart learned how to bear the blame.
A command to smile when I was ill,
But they never let me eat my fill.
Everyone else had needs to be met,
And they haven't even considered mine yet.
Every breath fills my lungs with a fire
That can never match my heart's desire.
Every beat of that treacherous heart
Taught me how to play their part.
Every step I will ever take,
They never thought I had the strength to make.
Yet every day that I awake,
I see again how much it can take.
So here I seek solace among the trees,
No judgement in the gentle breeze.
Here I'll sit and silently weep
For all I've lost and could not keep.
you have these moments i am held
dazed in your essence
when your concern catches me deep
a vividness my heart surrenders to
the slight reverse touch to your heart
apprehensions walk deep within
a countenance of a mein
a soft prayer in a breath
God stop this
the soft plea only a woman possesses
that carries the dire warning
there are the unforgiven
pariahs who never return
this is one jewel in a chest
i keep in my heart from other moments
such as you looking up
lost in your garden, hands in dirt
upon knees, wiping a moist brow
asking, would you get me some iced tea
alas, the fate of a man who only drinks coffee
a man whose only wish when crossing the veil
accompanied by a chest of jewels
Oregon 9/26/26
STILLBORN
So like a tree
Inside a storm
Weeps her leaves
To save herself
So too you weep
A womb, your keep
Lonliness
You are inborn
Your tangled hair
In tortoise shell
Combs that hold
The shadows there
A heart in need
Allegro beat
A blackened well
Once wishes fell
With furrowed brow
The winds that howl
Beyond the walls
Are muffled now
The barren lea
But she is free
To fast and feast
The carnival
Inside the gloam
So one forlorn
A eulogy
For one, stillborn
roc
Gloam - The time of day immediately following sunset.
One winter I stood at the base of a very old, very tall tree. Her trunk of bark with it's deep groves and ridges reminded me of a well travelled road to a horizon where the branches canopied chaotic to infinite possible futures never chosen.
Oh, I think about them a lot;
The letters you would have written to me.
And know I'll be keeping the letters until the ink fades.
So, write me a letter every now and then.
And on the days in between, a little note does the same magic.
Now, don't worry about not getting the same treatment.
I learned love before I could speak a word.
And I'll love you in every word, in every language I know.
Those letters you would have written would be my favourite words to read.
I'll write back every time you want me to.
And when you don't, I'll love you the hardest.
Write me a letter when you're finally here.
Desire Categories
Definition | What is Desire in Poetry?
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.
Related Poetry Forms
ambition, appetite, aspiration, craving, devotion, eagerness, fascination, greed, hunger, inclination, love, lust, motive, need, passion, thirst, will, wish, yearning