Dancing blind is what they called us,
we both had two left feet.
I moved on the dance floor,
then she followed me gracefully.
Awkward it became,
as they laughed at us.
We did not care,
as we held each other tight in love.
In love with each other,
in love with the rhythm of the music.
In our last big turn,
our canes showed.
The room went silent,
only the music could be heard.
Now they knew we were blind,
but not by the music or by our feet.
I saw you perfect, so I moved you.
Gently, like fire under glass.
Then flaws rose, black petals.
And I loved you even more.
Not for shine, but bruised truth.
For the tremor in your light.
For staying, unmade, with me.
For being real, not sacred.
When we met,
brains went out the window.
Why should I listen to what you say?
When we met,
heart went overboard.
Why should I listen to what you say?
When we met,
you moved me now soul must listen.
His parents moved Ed to a small town his senior year of high school.
He had always had buckets of friends and was a popular athlete.
We already have a team the new coach told them.
No one knew him here, and no one wanted to know him.
They refused to sit next to him, speak to him, or acknowledge him.
He was alone, banished, confused, and lonely.
His classmates were beyond mean.
They bullied him.
He did not learn the reason for ten years.
Two weeks before he moved to this small town there was a car wreck.
A popular senior boy perished.
His name had been Ed.
They did not want to have another one.
Every time his name was said it was a sword in their hearts.
here are the garden gloves I have been looking for
and my backscratcher, magnifying glass, and a few things more
I was against moving the couch until we finally had no other choice
Now here I sit staring at things I have lost for years
the candy wrappers are of no value at all
My old dog sits ignoring this mess
the puppy dives in, grabbing things with his mouth
why did we move this couch? I ask my husband
Moved to pity
Moved to grace
Moved to love
The human race.
Christopher M. Swan 2008
Receiving kindness and
learning of actions that
enrich lives of others
are precious moments when
I feel my spirit moved
They never know what their gaze whispers, or how quietly it bends the way I feel.
I’VE MOVED ON
They had me in a box I am movin on
I am moving on my Father raised me up
I am moving on I stand above the clouds
I am moving on was in despair
I am moving on I’m out of there
I am moving on graced and peace stares
I am moving on My Father cares
I’ve risin rose beyond the storms
I’m in my Father’s home
I’ve overcome by His love
I’ve moved on
I’m moving on Hallelujah
I’ve moved on
7/6/25
Written words & music by James Edward Lee Sr.2025©
From “I CRY OUT TO YOU”
You have been assigned your mountain
In order to show others that it can be moved
Often you are set in your ways
This will not move the mountain
You have been assigned a mountain
You need to grow
This will show
The power of your weakness
That can be turned into a strength
Dissatisfaction is the key to progress
Doing what others don’t do can
Open up a fountain of reality that
Can show you that the mountain can be moved!
You have been assigned a mountain
You need to grow
This will show
The power of your weakness
That can be turned into a strength
Mark Frank
Copyright 2025
I think of you
And realize
I haven't thought
Of you today
I feel
Like I've done
Something wrong
Somehow
I've been missing you
For so long
It feels like
Second nature
And as I think
Of you, even now
There is no usual
Pang of hurt
Spiking in my heart
Somehow
The absence of it
Hurts more
And it hurts
Because I know now
I've moved on
Without my
heart
knowing
I've been having
Sleepless nights
Of thinking back
On you and I
And I wake up today
Realizing I slept
Without a dream of you
I wait for
A thorn to prick me
In my heart
But nothing comes
And my heart feels empty
without you
Silent
I've moved on
What happened to the old ‘Do-wop’
piano triplets and ‘bop-she-bop’
Romantic ballads juke-box kissed
disco nights now wrapped in mist
Brian Wilson’s surfboard gone
Liverpool mopheads no more spawned...
New heartthrobs soar, then fade away ~
Beethoven rolled over yesterday
Our childhood home in old Monroe
Is now home to someone I do not know
I knocked once but was left standing
Alone and waiting on the patio
Like when we waited for Dad many years ago
My family sold it when they up and moved away
Under some spell or hopeful for a change
Sometimes people need to go their own way
I saw your childhood home
After a handsome young man had died
Now looks dilapidated
And I don't dare go inside
I stopped next to the gravel driveway
Only to look
But I couldn't take a step or get too close
For I was frozen with fear
That perhaps Id see your injured ghost
Childhood is childhood and cannot last long
Sometimes Love flows in and away too quickly
For us to grab it or hold on
A house is a shell it's people that make it a home
And when they are gone it feels strange and lonesome
I cannot go back home ever again
For those places no longer exist
Except In my head
When the curtains of my eyelids moved slowly, your face arrived before the light,
As if the dawn had learned from you to gently and gracefully dispel the night,
The night spent all its prayers for this silent and divine moment,
My hand traced the gentle contour of your cheek, and time paused for a heartbeat.
Your serene smile blooms on your lips, and I understand what it means to be blessed,
Then those innocent eyes, restless from sleep, slowly open and look at my hand,
As if memorizing the warmth, the presence, binding me to this moment forever,
The soft touch of your lips on my skin is like moonlight kissing the waves.
Like a traveler finally reaching the long-dreamed shore, at the end of a journey,
In that silent and sacred pause, I realize with profound clarity that there is nothing more to seek,
I have already found all I ever dreamed of, in this moment where time stops,
And I understand that happiness is here, now, in this place where everything completes.
Her words and actions are conflicting
inconsistencies and quirky thoughts
going through the motions
and playing your part
aa man can get tired of the samethang
wondering what spell you're in
wondering if things might change
creating distance guess you're not
commitment minded but you wish to
think you are
you express interest in me
only to have your way
undermining my sincerity
or maybe it's me
it could be
identifying myself as
yours
maybe it's me
that's a possibility
people like to make you
believe everything
about you is wrong
you should never convince someone to
make time for you
From S[lit D Ring
She acts weird so that if you talk about
the person she allows you to know
is completly different
then the pperson she is.....
I losted the reed to my oboe
and was upset. She used the condition
of my emotional state
to create a situation.
Is it past tramua effecting us
or mix signaling.
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.