Or Poems - Poems about Or

Why I Abhor Ai Generated Poems Poetry Contest Sponsored by: JCB Brul 14/6/25 “Books serve to show a man that those original thoughts of his aren't very new after all.” Abraham Lincoln I assume that goes for women too, Abe! “An original idea. That can't be too hard. The library must be full of them.” Stephen Fry An artificial...

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To many lines now crossed!! Putin weighs carefully the Odds..Stakes are nuclear by now to many (stupid sods!) Pushed the row ' Heads must roll.' They will pay their own Toll.' Gay-ne of function..and its resultant unction? Perhaps we should enter into the more sustainable world Functions.?...

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I can either be a genius. Or not. Or a little piece of tape that falls off the wall. They’re going to find me someday. I can either be a genius. Or be a genius. Or be sculpted and sliced. And let it happen again. I can either be a genius. And not really know...

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I am swiftly transforming into either a giraffe or a dalmatian My hands are spotted, speckled, dotted and wrinkled now. I have only seen these hands on one other person My grandmother when I was twelve Sixty years ago I wonder which animal I will become Giraffe would be nice; I would welcome her height Dalmatian would be good; I would love...

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based on the song Bible Black by Heaven and Hell for Ronnie James Dio Poetry Contest Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- In this dark. misty land a stranger took me by the hand- and into a gloomy library I was led. A dusty book was soon found, I was fed- heed...don't ever bargain, never be sold for these words are...

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Heart or intellect? Happiness of heart or beatitude of mind? The mind can also bring happiness … Gladness to you Life in the heart or live for the mind? No, live in the mind. Happiness of mind is … The crystal love Thank you Master You're welcome, …from your mind ...

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There are many times, When we are stuck, Like when a player exclaims, “Checkmate!”, And our king falls, as it is struck. At that point, The game is lost, It is over, Despite how we were flossed. There are also moments, When we need to perform it right, There’s only one chance, To match time and heart’s delight. One of those occasions, Might be to propose, At...

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Have I truly moved away, or am I just becoming a shadow in time, like a ghost forgetting it was once flesh and blood, my laughter is louder now, but only in places where your echo doesn't reach, I say I'm fine, as if wielding a language of illusions and other worlds. I've closed the paths to you, yet...

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Is life truly an art or just a messy canvas I never asked to touch, and death the same, a final brushstroke or just a fear hidden in dark corners? I ask this because, if life is art, then I suppose I am an artist, but shouldn't artists love what they create, find peace in their works, not feel...

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'Tis it better to know, or not to know? Now there's the rub! The dilemma in a Pandora paradox. Sure it's nice to get to know yourself, but not entirely, for the abyss within the cage will return the gaze. Better, perhaps to not know that the killer asteroid arrives tomorrow at half past ten. Nor what's in all the horror-scopes...

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How Long a wait will my weak feet endure? For many years On your snub I still wail. Yet Veils of lies don’t cover your allure; Your Elegance I still cannot but hail. Your words Often fail to convey passion, Your heart Remains closed off to compassion, Since you Heave out too little in response, Within the Arcade of hatred you ensconce. With...

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You say you’ll love her till the day you die But when she feels unwanted and broken inside Will you hold her and tell her she’s enough When she’s tired of pretending to be tough Will you love her when she’s a mess Her hair in a bun, her face not at its best When she is...

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has it meaning or just screaming rhyming or just chiming? words on a page or thoughts of a sage to touch a heart and change hatred to love arrange an artwork coming on just an old folk's song no structure or form is it a poem? Put a trophy on it, a perfectly formed sonnet endowment from Lord God today, considered odd. oh, the skill to have iambs no...

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Salt a gin and tonic, It’s too dry. Assault my temple with sin, Be honest, You like the rye. Look me in my honest eye, Conversations with myself are the fondest, Because no one understands me better when I rhyme. Took a pen and across the paper it slides, Scribble out the oddest lines. Apply pressure...

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MAGA folks, with Trump are mostly delighted Democrats up in arms, yet affrighted Is Trump dealing democracy a ‘death blow’ or just...

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