Unified Call- We speak their names with
Reverence, and the ancestors rise in
The unseen to witness.
The world reads them before it knows them,
But the obscurity answers; their capital is
Older than any bias.
They learn caution too early, discretion too
Young, yet the unseen strolls with them in
Every stride.
Harm pursues them without petition
But protection gathers like a second horizon,
Shifting the air, not today, not this one.
Their names hold history, optimism, and the
Right to grow old, and the ancestors say each
Name is an ancestry of brilliance.
When the world looks away, injustice transforms
Into bold, but the shadows rise; we do not look
Away.
Truth returns to them like a safeguard,
Justice throbs even when unheard, and the
Unseen closes the circle:
Their lives mattered before the world began, and they matter now, fully incessantly.
Pressure came knocking at the door,
And slowly, love began to fade;
The laughter heard there once before
Was buried underneath the weight.
Two hearts that once would softly meet,
Now speak in whispers, cold and brief;
The days are filled with endless needs,
And nights have little room for dreams.
Where pressure grows, pleasure retreats,
Romance becomes a distant song;
A tired heart has little strength
To give the tenderness it longs.
Love needs more than roofs and bread,
More than bills that must be paid;
It needs a smile, a gentle touch,
A little time that won't be traded.
So ease the burden, hold your own,
Remember why you chose to stay;
For when two hearts make room for love,
Even weary souls can find their way.
Pressure and pleasure cannot coexist;
Where peace returns, love finds its bliss.
History of our lives
We have time to pray for our God
Before we go to bed
Before the house grows quiet
History of our lives
Every night we go to bed early
So we can get a proper sleep
And wake with enough for tomorrow
We are not rich
We have a limited amount of money to live
And that is okay
There is bread on the table
There is peace in the room
History of our lives
Every night we go to bed early
So we can get a proper sleep
And wake with enough for tomorrow
If we were rich
We would be miserable
We would not know what to do
With a lot of money
We might lose the things we have
That teach us how to be grateful
History of our lives
A quiet prayer before bed
Not everything is plenty
But what we have is enough
Serial Soap
The Years of Our Lives
Serial Soap
I knew you before you blossomed,
When each of us was still a child.
Before you wore the face of a beauty queen;
Before your curves started driving me wild.
I knew you before we could tie our shoes,
You were the girl who lived next door.
I knew back then I would never choose
Another girl I could ever love more.
I sat beside you on our first school bus ride,
For the next thirteen years we sat side by side.
My feelings for you I never could hide
Everybody already knew you were going to be my bride.
I danced with you at the school sock-hop,
Wishing the music never would stop.
When I took you to the senior prom
I was awestruck by the beauty holding my arm.
We got married right after high school
Much, of course, to nobody's surprise.
Then enjoyed fifty years worth of mornings,
Together watching the new sunrise.
I can't remember a day without you;
Not that that is something I would ever try.
If ever I said I wanted to be alone,
You would know that I had told a lie.
I was five years old the first day that I swore,
I was going to marry the girl who lives next door.
It’s so nice under the carpet
In our cozy home of dust
I believe we couldn't get
Any better place for us
In our dust community
We are friendly, living free
Using ingenuity
The cleaners cannot see
Yes we heard the latest news
About other dust
They had nothing left to lose
And were tossed too fast
Right into the litter bin
Comrades, have a rest
Yes we’ve seen it all, we’ve been
In the East and in the West
What I found the most important
Doesn’t look so at first glance
Dust’s the only thing immortal
Tells about lives that passed.
Ah dear angel, there’s no life without flesh
Spiritual, we are abstract and formless
It would’ve been a miracle, to refresh
Our lives, to be revived from nothingness
But miracles don’t happen often, do they
Your ASDA list completed, lawn is mowed
The rooms are tidied, as they were that day
That froze in time not to be spoken much about
We’ve found ourselves just by a happy chance
My dear angel, help me with my thought
Was it a miracle that happens only once
Or an unconscious life we bound to sought?
It is stitched into my bones, this disease,
call it shame if you need a smaller word.
What it does to me is uglier than that name.
It festers in the soft dark of my soul,
rotting everything my hands reach for.
And still, I love it.
The way you love a scar you keep reopening.
The way you love a fire for the warmth,
even as it eats the house down around you.
I know it will kill me.
I know, and I stay.
So tell me,
how does anyone let go
of the thing that has learned
the exact shape of their hands?
Lust lives in the church
Lying and cheating live here
This place is corrupt
They were completely taken by surprise
The "dragons" come as thick fog
apparently, cushion-soft
Fascinated, but worried and afraid
- rolling wet attack over ocean
Dangerous to sail
it will require a lot of knowledge
In the fog, every wave
and every sound is amplified,
the familiar becomes strange
On top of a windswept cliff
there stands a lighthouse
with its magical light
It is the salvation, without a doubt
Truth will not die, it always finds a way to be reborn.
Bury the truth and it will take root
deep within the earth it lives
Waiting for the time to sprout up and feed
upon the light shinning it's path forward
and onward, traveling as a whisper
in the wind . First softly as gentleness of a breeze
awaking emotions into the hearts of men,
suddenly Truth spreads as a wildfire
by winds of hurricanes in voices
of repressed and enslaved seeking
and fighting for freedom
lead by truth.
All men are created equal by the breathe of God
Liberty is not dream but a birthright
For truth wrestles the weary soul free
into a living spirit of justice and liberty
won by the spelled blood of fallen heroes
whose sacrifice shields all before present and future.
Truth lives for a world that hungers to hear it
to speak it, to see it, to feel it, to taste it to live it.
We are free for Truth lives.
Loves lives, it gives, it guides, it has all we need and we follow it all of our lives.
True love never lies, it makes all of our days bright like the sunshine.
Love you are the one, the one that makes my days feel bright and fun.
Love you are every moment in my heart, you make each beat feel so nice.
Love lifts us up, making me love you more and more each day and night.
Love even when your gone, I feel your presence in my heart and mind.
Love lives forever, it makes our days better, look for all our sunny days, filled with our loves close each day.
Love you are the one, the one that makes all of the sunshine, you smile with your happy face, making me feel special each day.
Love lives in our heart, it lifts us up to make our life bright, like the sun in the sky, you make each moment bright with your love light.
Love you more each day, you give and give so much light making me feel alive.
Lifting prayers to God, today and every day.
There was a young girl who lived in the bush,
There weren't many people around, she looked.
There were a lot of trees, tall they stood.
Bugs tiny and fast,
take care of them, Mum said she should.
When the sun rose, her skin felt good.
When the sun set, it was time to read a book.
When she picked berries, she was careful how many she took.
When the grass russled, she didn't take a look.
When the fields called, she put on her boots.
When the skies turned dark, the stars would shoot.
There was a young girl who lived in the bush,
There weren't many people around, she looked.
Though the flowers, birds and muddy puddles filled her heart up just as good.
The porch was warm that summer night,
Fireflies buzzing, swift and bright,
a moment held in memory’s gentle sight~
the day still lives in me.
My granddad’s laugh, a low, sweet roll,
the kind that settled in my soul,
a sound that made my childhood whole~
the day still lives in me.
The scent of cedar in the air,
his calloused hand smoothing my hair,
a tenderness beyond earthly compare~
the day still lives in me.
And though the years have slipped away,
I feel that porch in every day,
its quiet grace still lights my way~
the day still lives in me.
What Lives Inside
Beyond the noise of the world outside,
there lives a truth I cannot hide,
A story, a dream, a restless tide,
What is it that lives inside ?
A silent voice I cannot define,
No perfect words no design
For nothing fills the empty space,
the outer world cannot replace.
And when the ones we love let go,
And leave us aching , lost and low,
We turn within where shadows hide
To find a gentler world inside.
A place that never turns away
Nor leaves our fragile hearts to stray,
It holds us close through every storm
And loves us simply as our form.
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.