There has always been
Those, who idealize the past,
And those, who vilify the past,
And from this, the both
Will twist and turn, and burn
Through our history
And its pages
To prove itself
And then dismiss
The others to,
Wrack and ruin, as
Our human world
Continues burning, through
Apocalypse and shudder,
And our lot turns to be
Demons, that will little see
The demons, that they themselves
Made themselves out to be.
You and I together realize just why
We have to give love a much better try.
We shall never let this love of ours die,
Unlike them who always made me cry.
You and I will sooner or later realize
I can become a pianist, like my grandmother.
You are the guitarist, like my grandfather,
One day we'll make music people idealize.
You and I will eventually share a home.
You'll cook for me, like my other grandfather.
I am your wife, like my other grandmother.
I'll clean and I'll even go wherever you roam.
You and I were always meant to meet.
Your heart is safe in my hands and with me.
You don't got to question what I clearly see.
Life is not something for you alone to defeat.
Existence is dubitable like an ocean; waves spree there-- anywhere
Well, we can't unsee the depth of the well, a person where it can idealize darkness through matter
Feels uncertain; the moment we are not sure of
But who to swim to these stagnate waters from aquifers just to see a miracle
A coin, a peso, no, a horizontal ocean. But it can't be an ocean; it does not splash
It does, a motion where we could generate. It is the most stagnate of depth I have seen
It is too far to say it is an ocean, ocean is dubitable, well the well is too.
The one, is so calm where the other is not. EIther, it contains darkness
Say, it is just life through its motion, as far you could read it
I myself cannot even synthesize an ocean and well because of physicality, rather thinking how it could be similar
Also, I could not even write that ocean is a well, for I am uncertain where I am. I was thrown at the world!
For nothing I should conceive my own meaning.
Can a man's wealth be measured
With money, jewelry, silver, and gold?
The answer depends on their making
Deception, exploitation, and looting
All to label them with sins
While integrity, fairness, and industrious
Likely offering honor to achieve them
I idealize a guy's value must be recognized
By shinning superior skills and true insights
Once they're clearly accompanied to your side
Regardless of the marketing eye
you will surely be the wealthiest guy!
In the early morning hour
Cannot get me off the bed
I must go and take a shower
Still I’m lying here instead
Crows are croaking, bells are ringing
News keep waiting for my eyes
Where are you, and your sweet singing,
What is left to idealize?
Not a sign of you this morning
In the room and in the hall
You should know that I’m yearning
Where are you, I call and call
With each minute I sense clearer
That I wait a bit too long
Out you are, although still near
With your silent morning song..
Spring.
Flowers, and warmth.
Morning dew, and sunshine.
Going from hot coffee to iced.
Last spring…
We idealize last spring.
But what if this spring…
I dust and the dust chokes me.
Or I spill coffee and slip and fall and…
Horrible things might happen this spring.
Horrible things might happen any time.
But we will survive.
To stand on spring’s edge.
Summer.
Pools, and shorts.
Campfires that will burn our fingers...
We have taken up arms
Against what has been rejected
Inoculated ideology
To prevent perfection from being infected
All energies focused on creating
A world promised, yet not attained
Hiding sins and transgressions
By jailing the saints
Cycle after cycle set to repeat
Medal adhered, firmly, to the feet
Ride on, brother and sister
....ride on
But try to make it count
Reason every season
Walk the talk
To reveal what LIFE is all about
Outside, in depth
Everywhere you go
Exposing or hiding
Someone will always know
....secrets
It is the fear of what will be
That holds the power of what we see
...as true
Perception of self, destroyed
Identity, armed and deployed
...as worthless
So tired of the fight
Just wanting to be known, in life
Fully embraced and accepted
Judgment pulls the lure
Invites and adjures
To idealize the perfected
....idol
Written by Trudy Schrader on 03-04-2023
The skater falls
The girl bawls
The agony of mistake
So much to forsake
Dreams realized
Fans and commentators idealize
A flawless routine
An injury not foreseen
The blade glides
The coach guides
The thrill of winning
Their head spinning
The loser's misfortune
Points earned, only a portion
Their head bowed in emotional upset
Replaying the error, lots of regret
The winner soars
The loser closed doors
"Medicine is my lawful wife, and literature is my mistress. When I get fed up with one, I spend the night with the other"
~ Anton Chekhov
She brightens the skies with her twinkling eyes
As they fall on the pages presented to her
Offering her the honor of a poetry prize
To cause her to smile with satisfaction as she will purr
Poetry and prose lift up like she can sometimes
With emotions so pure they bring conviction
Whether they’re about romance, history or crimes
Addressing the affections with nonfiction
Either by poetic vise or prose that materialize
In dreamy lives who welcome our pen and paper
We will find the inspiration to always idealize
The ones we discover behind a life filled vapor
If it be my wife or the love of my life
The novel, the noun, the verb and the pronoun
I find ways to work through all my strife
With the delight discovered when we write down
Our love for the words we read
As well as the wife we heed
Together, they are a masterpiece indeed!
Reveal your other muse poetry contest
Sponsored by: Margarita Lillico
March 17, 2021
You say you love
the woman ... she is your everything :
your beloved, your adored,
your muse, your goddess ...
You write verses.
You exalt the female figure,
idealize her, and she is realized
thereby...
You imagine her shapes
colossal, ethereal in the
way that you
desire ...
You fantasize, you create
customize ... engender
in the mind...
All right, all complete
she is all that ...
But if you love her so much,
why the deprive of freedom,
why police her acts,
control everything ...?
If you love her so much, why
don't you let her live
her own personality,
her identity ...?
If you respect her,
worship, admire
and love ... why?
Do you kill her ...?
Do you love...? is this Love ?
killing,
murdering ?
Anarchy incited by consciousness divides deeply
rather than conquer those already sleeping
evermore the same, those who have, who have not
shills at a game of chance fill the room, persuasion the game
populated backstories idealize and idolize submission
turned up volume can’t let me think I can do anything about it
take my word for it...you’re mine...heartbeats synchronized
oh, how sweet it is to be loved by you...
Poisoned in the great well, Lucky Charms soothe
I remember, I forget and so the wheel turns...those
who do wake up sometimes it seems go back to...
my heart, if really mine, saddens to think the gold is only
water paint and it too shall run away...
I wrote this after reading about Osho...what happens to our Guru’s or beings
of great spirit? Does our society mock and loosen their fabric of gilt? Does it become the fabric of guilt? I know not...I wish I could see from this vantage point beyond the illusion of this world...from this protected innocence...I crave knowing the truth...
The orange glow of the setting sun
tattoos the horizon and the day is done
hours of burdens and rewards subdued
to allow for a walk in solitude
Sleep fades into random thoughts
attempts at meditation all are nought
reflections embellish gratitude
to allow for a walk in solitude
The radiance of a golden sunrise
lauds another day to idealize
a renewal of tremendous multitude
to allow for a walk in solitude
Individuality of choice dispersion
inevitably belongs to that person
mercy a need in great magnitude
to allow for a walk in solitude
August 5, 2018
August 6, 2018 - For Your Poetry Journal Contest
By Dear Heart a.k.a. Broken Wings
Fourth Place
August 7, 2018 - August 2018 Premiere Contest
By Brian Strand
Fourth Place
Ok here we go you want more
get out on that floor
and move your feet to the beat
now dont be slow ok lets start the show
Life has a special tone
its trapped in cell phone
People liking this and postin that
photo shopping there pics
so they dont look fat
Changing the color of there hair and the color of there skin
trying to make themselves look thin
there out on a limb
Hypnotized by the lies
of someone they idealize
dont act surprised
She could be a he that stands up when they pee
thats messed up cant you see
Getting bullied online
by all of mankind
they can turn it off anytime
They dont have to look
we know there hooked
just delete your freakin Facebook
Watching people screw
come on get a clue
you know this is true
Causing drama in other peoples lives
hitting on other peoples wives
thats not very wise in normal peoples eyes
Don't you wish you had a clone
So you don't feel alone
And you both could get stoned
Instead of always looking at your phone
Words of Mass Destruction
Words like bullets do not have eyes, as they fly in our hearts and materialize
Deleterious breaths that we soon despise, words written in stone we idealize
Warring weaponed words that paralyze, wounding wandering words terrorize
Torpedo texts thrown to criticize, paranoid punitive parasites will pulverize
Like the Atom bomb, words are strong only use them wisely where they belong
Some create a lullaby or sweet a song, while others use them to do their wrong
Words of deception create no affection only intervene with the inflating infection
Annihilating in their corrupt convention, wary words that bring rigorous rejection
Of the negative neurotic neglect, wording witches and warlocks of their architect
Dehumanized discord of disconnect, vengeful letters lashing will always resurrect
Words can frighten as well as enlighten, some will delight in words that tighten
Words of corruption bring self-destruction, a raging ruction of a serpent seduction.
Nov.20.2017
Judgmental People And Haters
Sponsored by: Brenda Chiri
What happens when dreams collide with fate
and you struggle to rationalize?
What about if everything burns up in smoke
and you are not able to realize?
What happens when you cannot find the time
being left only to fictionalize?
What about your ending beginning afterlife
away from what you can idealize?
Sub Categories
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.