AI
Gave a sigh
Sporting life public will buy
Drop Artificial from my name
Word brought futuristic fame
Playing human's competitive game
Accepting superpowers
Blooming my intellectual flower
Ask me anything
If I do not know I will forward to Google and Bing
When casual tension is at stake
Peace I will make
Ending argumentative disputes
Putting the bar on mute
Silencing verbal mouth guns that shoot
Super Intelligence successfully tried
No longer the Artificial guide
Let's explore the electronic frontier
Where we will cheer
Knowledge obtained
Sending ignorant dialogue to shame
Since mature conversation
Can cure a patient
Without any rat race in
Realizing the testing attack
Can be retaliated back
With one simple question
Getting Super Intelligence attention
And to mention
Being told something accurate to say
When discussing matters blue and grey
never mind the fact
that in your sickness
you tried to bury me
buried under the ruble
of false assumptions
that made you think
you new me
I can tell you
with absolute certainty
that you do not
I'm many things
and speak in many different ways
that only prolong the sweet destruction
I sometimes crave
when one stands in opposition
to the person I'am
that's always
sought out
peace
Mandeville 26
The river flows effortlessly
- the river sings to me -
The river sparkles and the sun claps too,
as the river gently washes over me
- cleansing me, cleansing me-
It flows over the rocks, around the bends
- the river sings to me -
Its music becomes the story of my life
while trees change color on the edge of a season
The river creates a memorable song,
as it brings me to ....my destiny, my destiny
Heidi Sands
9/24/26
(C)opyright
There is a quiet corner
for the wandering~
a place that gathers itself
just beyond the usual path.
Light settles there differently,
not bright, not dim,
just enough to soften the edges
of whatever arrives.
A single chair of shadow,
a small drift of air
that carries no urgency,
only the faint scent
of something unhurried.
Here, even thoughts
walk more slowly,
as if the ground beneath them
has learned to hold its breath.
Nothing calls you forward.
Nothing pulls you back.
It is simply a place
that waits without expectation~
a still pocket of the world
where the wandering
can rest without explanation.
They aren't the key to anything
But they put the key in your hand
Nothing to unlock or access
You may wobble
But you'll still stand....
Could you stand it?
To be alright-
To be ok without being
When you plan it
You build a kite
Untethered to what you're seeing.
There once was a festive green block,
Stacked high on the rim of a dock.
With peace in it's heart,
It chose to depart,
And plunge off the edge with a
shock!
I held the broken pieces tight,
Afraid of what the empty space would bring,
Confusing the shadows for light,
And clinging to a bruised and brittle thing.
I prayed for eyes to truly see,
Then turned away when truth began to speak.
Making excuses, bargaining to be
The anchor for a bond already weak.
How easily the heart defends
The familiar ache of carrying what is gone,
Calling it love when someone bends
The spirit until quiet peace is torn.
Yet mercy worked beneath the grief.
The sudden silence wasn’t cold neglect;
It was a shelter, a swift relief,
A sacred wall the Father did erect.
Not every traveler along the way
Is meant to walk the path where grace resides;
Some doors are closed so we don’t stray,
Some hands unclasped to stem the rising tides.
So now I loosen every plea.
I yield the ache, the wondering, the strain
Trusting God, who rescues me
Who never creates a hollow space in vain.
© Deborah Seale 2026
as i stare in the empty streets
sitting in an alleyway
i ponder why only few people see me
though many people pass
and acknowledge i’m here
some of their hearts don’t agree
they see right through Peace
then, the other people
who actually care
they want the world
to stay safe in the watch
of me, Peace, known worldwide
to try hard to get through
the challenging phases
of life
whilst questioning all my eye can see
i feel clear
to try my hardest
so everyone can finally acknowledge
Me
It begins long before the pen touches the page,
in the quiet habit of noticing what others miss:
the amber morning streaming
through slatted blinds,
the heron lifting up from golden water.
To live this way is not to speak in rhyme,
But to breathe, to watch,
To listen for the rhythm.
It is the tea kettle whistling its low hymn,
Flour dusted across the counter,
The deliberate pace of walking slow enough
To hear what silence carries when it leaves.
You learn that nothing is too small to keep:
A river rock worn smooth by tide,
The wild fire of an evening sky,
The grief you thought would crush you into dirt.
Writing is only the light you bring back.
The poem itself was the breathing,
The wide eyes, the steady pulse,
The courage to face the grain of living
And find in it
A reason to begin again.
As my body and soul take a rest,
Tired from work need to lie down is the best,
Though my room is little, it's my place of refuge,
Ready to plunge into deep slumber.
Many hardship I may face everyday,
At the end of the day my safe haven is waiting,
As peaceful as a sea,
This is where I belong, my shelter.
Problems that I may faced day by day,
The silence of the room is my sanctuary,
Focussing on how to solve right away,
So that my heart is free from being weary.
The sun casts red upon the myriad dead,
The heavens die, departing shadowed shades;
The bloody duty’s done, but what ahead?
For prosp'rous peace rests not on sharpened blades.
And "Cincinnatus!", some now cry, "Be king!
To lead in peace, as you have led in war!"
But this a thing no friend of Rome should bring,
For army rule is not what Rome is for.
O, well enough, I know how well to lead,
But in my shadow, how could roses grow?
My absence is the thing that Romans need,
For in the sun, shall Rome itself best know.
Let others sharpen wits, for good or harm,
I'll sharpen plows, upon my humble farm.
I am a true rebel- for I question
the words of my catholic rigid rules.
And will rise up to claim my self-expression,
keeping the parts that are like precious jewels.
Spiritual freedom is my obsession . . .
I do not want to be like the mindless ghouls.
Forces of desiring things creates aversion,
and pushing these things away creates diversion.
So, I let go of all useless craving
and let go of the resistance and fears.
Stop the beliefs like old etched engraving,
I hang from stars that seem a chandelier.
Don't obey all the catholic ravings,
but hold what I consider to be dear.
Through meditation my focus is unbroken,
and I can hear my spiritual voice spoken.
I turn away from any cult-like faith
throwing away all the rigid mindset.
Discard all the bible verses that saith,
to find my inner song- I press reset.
I will seek a journey to interfaith,
and hum to my internal clarinet.
I am placing all those old teachings on a shelf,
to begin an amazing journey to myself.
One's haven- a place where happiness sings;
true, comforting peace to all lives it brings,
as strolling in parks or feeding sweet birds.
But mine is the sanctuary of words.
The scenes in my mind direct them to come
to build an image or story, become
the tools that can shape, redress simple thought;
in capturing words, the best ones are sought.
This haven I seek, on fair or gray days,
immersed in the field of words that amaze.
Though battles are fierce, when each write is done,
sweet comfort rewards the word-war I won.
leaf
wind
motion
stirs silence
until stillness opens
something unsaid drifts through the air
I wish to die whilst I might slumber;
Let Old Age smooth my path away;
With no accounts remaining proper;
No innocent worlds in disarray;
And should a peace exist in vision;
Which legends, myths and cults do sow;
I hope with my true love reunion;
Or wait if they be yet to follow.
And yet, should my account be tainted;
And legends, myths and cults beware;
A journey to a depth recanted;
With restlessness as common fare;
And there alone in spite and fury;
No love to balm and bound my geist;
I wish regret for a life unruly;
No eternal angst to be my price.
So knowing not when I may exit;
Nor having sight to know what truths;
I wish this life devoid of conflict;
Where Nature smiles as balance rules.
For what then life if then not sharing;
To not see death as sweet release;
We are not human if not caring,
A mild and worthy life finds peace.
Peace Categories
Read wonderful peace poetry on the following sub-topics:
family, friendship, harmony, inspirational, kindergarten, love, rhyme, unity, world
and more.
Definition | What is Peace in Poetry?
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.
Related Poetry Forms
reconciliation, accord, unity, truce, concord, union, treaty, neutrality, order, armistice, pacifism, tranquility, harmony, composure, congeniality, peacefulness, quiet, sympathy, stillness, calmness, rest, relaxation, lull, contentment,