New To(P) Poems - Poems about New To(P)

New Frontiers

Earthbound, beneath the dark sky above,
enduring a empty endless night, 
I first gave my heart over to love,
and my spirit suddenly took flight. 

Illuminated by this newfound light,
what had for long been a dormant seed,
nourished by astonishing delight, 
was, at once, fortuitously freed.  

What followed, then, with surprising speed, 
a sleepless child, who would

Your new capitcha

Civilian communicator
Manager and organizer
Reckon it really is smart?

Tests for IQ hadn't passed it
Sense much it doesn't real make
Shall we announce a tender 
Requirements for contenders
Who and or what judge will take 

Pairings and the APIs
Monopolies marketing lies  
Vs this Predator Apex
If human is website
Your slice

How will your memories
Of brain yours and enemies
Forget all that

New Again

When I turned to God
He made me clean, whole and new
Reborn, through and through.

not new nor novel no more

not new nor novel no more
See some sights, see some more
But now I am standing at my door
The room the same as before

not new nor novel no more
Still, I can't be bothered to make a change
Yet I'm longing to turn the page 
standing still at center stage

not new nor novel no more
But I could change

Brand New Tea Kettle

Decsions, decsions he spoke of his chooses of ffod.
The meager of supply would change his atitude.
Simmering, the spicy broth he
waited to smell
the savory food. Then he added dumplings, his favorite
comfort food.
He had roasted a tough rooster
one that had pecked in his yard. The flvor was rustic
and gamey he ate it with some chard.
Mushrooms, Mushrooms garlic

The New Cut

Every snip feels off.
I stare at my own hair.
The sides are sharp today.
The top does not feel right.

I run my fingers through.
It is different, maybe odd.
I pause, not sure I like it.
I hope it grows on me.

Maybe they will like it.
It could be a better look.
Could even catch some smiles.
The girls might notice too.

The mirror

The Start of a New Poem

It is a night creamed by melting darkness.
Fireflies are obsessed with secrecy tonight
And dim their lights cautiously, frugally.
Crickets and cicadas crepitate with muted
Feelings, sallying wretched, orphaned tadpoles.
I cringe from traditional horror,
Wincing with the power of concern.
Lest I forget, the moon travelled out of town.
The constellation was keeping wake in the outer
Universe, where stars were hired

New Sonnet 4 'Unlike a Spurgeon, I by dull words unfold'

Unlike a Spurgeon, I by dull words unfold
The limits of my Sarah's love for me,
But I realize that the rot and stink and mold
Are all within my mind, beneath my See.
There is no other person who can love
For me.  It is my duty and my joy.
It is the Truth that True Love is made

I talked with the new moon tonight

I talked with the new moon tonight,
And asked: - How fast,
How slow
The seasons come and go,
The birds migrate, the grass is getting dry,
And not be late
In life,
In death,
At birth, how loud do we have to shout?
How long to stay?
And wait,
And count,
How slow, how fast we have to love,
And get a glimpse of quicksand,
A touch of

My New Old Poster

An old-time poster caught my eye 
In an antiques shop where I like to browse.
On seeing it, you might ask why,
So I’ll tell you, long as rhyme allows.

First, the colors pop and its retro look,
With a smiling man in an old-style hat,
Made me grin and that was all it took
To think, “Gee, I’d like to

If love is a battlefield new song version

If love is a battlefield

Sarcastic words 
are launched
like glass hand grenades
Shattering her dignity, 
she's bruised,
battered and afraid

When coming home 
fills her with a
dreadful trepidation
When her words 
walk on eggshells
trembling in expectation

Chorus

If love is a battlefield
then, 
somethings not right
Home should be 
a safe haven,
not cut like a knife
Oh, 
if love is a battlefield
and there's a cry

Between the Rivers

The Hudson River stretches wide
From Jersey to the far west side.
The east, though, is where I reside
So I don’t see it much.

It’s quite majestic, driving past
And on the highway, going fast,
I try to conjure up the past
When locals spoke in Dutch.

‘Cross town, another river flows,
Much narrower and, I suppose,
Some Germans came because that shows 
In

New from dyslexic temple mount

New from dyslexic temple mount...

of one mortal university 
undergraduate built in madly
the brainchild of one Forest Hadley
an a Ford able game paid top dollar
after being purchased by Milton Bradley
called Dodge the Old Farts.

A favorite game I (and the wife) play
here at Highland Manor originated
by yours truly (me) and the spouse
soon after we moved here
eight years

I'm Crying In The Car Listening to 'A Whole New World'

Streaming like the rain outside
The windscreen wipers working like 
My heart and chopping onions stuff
A testament to will the good of another 

The kids are in the back and can't see what's going on
Soaring, tumbling, freewheeling in the driving seat
I think of my wife and when we first met
She was always running late

As I was

Death in the New Year

Our hands are tied, Death
Since you dawned on us this New Year . . .

Shapely bottles of champagnes have shone
And have broken to fragments with the ululation
Of firecrackers that warmed cold and dark wintry skies.
Now, aphonia sets in from unending lamentations.
Headlines, buried by the chilly bones of winter,
Are barren of good tidings.
A chionophile besieges the

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