Return Poems - Poems about Return

"Return to Bourbon" (The Gritty Underbelly of New Orleans) I left my soul in a crawfish boil And my transgressions in a taxicab, Where the driver was blind in one eye And the meter was stabbed. The gutter gurgles like a gospel hymn Also, the rain comes down hard, like a drum, But Lord, I’d...

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Intellectually and artificially Can it be more worse, tell me unofficially Why should we be managed for what Bloody purpose to satisfy who’s plot To tell you the truth I miss my youth I’m sorry this lesson to learn But you feel the same Here we go again But thank God we shall never return Away from this paradise lost I can’t pay the required...

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The Point of no Return It all started innocently enough, casual conversation. Just the usual banter at the coffee station. A couple of co-workers teasing each other. He liked her laugh. If he was honest, her yellow blouse with pearl buttons was a special treat. The top button was undone and the fabric draped over her breasts...

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Written: May 31st, 2025, for contest by Kai Michael Neumann *************** In the stillness of twilight, shadows sway. and a delicate craft rests on the shore, embarking on a perilous, winding path. Odyssey, its supple rostrum slightly widening as if attuned to the twilight. Drifting on a warm breeze, such a leaf, Its brittle...

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A crescent moon dangles in the distance, whilst meteors jet across Prussian blue heavens, leaving trails of grey ash in their wake. An abnormal, elongated silence creeps through threadbare trees, as an imperceptible breeze skims past my hair, causing, for just a second, déjà vu— a flutter between my muffled heart and a crushing ribcage jolts me back. Never-ending, frayed nerves keep me...

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The point of no return could be global or individual but never is it in the middle. It is a horizon of dreams aloft in hope held by tentative strands of rope that weaken and deny what hearts are seeking. It is love, stirred with hate that drips need to bleed us, heal us and force...

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"Point of no Return" ************************************************************** Death is a "Point of no Return" ...

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Across the wandering life’s changing dynamic landscape, I traversed following the footprints of destiny the tortuous pathway in the undulating topography, that winded for me, tracking the trail of racing time to the amorphous future, taking the ordained shape, Many streams in spate I had swam with passion across the waves of somber squall. With the buds of nascent hope...

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We spend the hours in tinge of pale There's no tenderness quite right-- And more hazy moments prevail Growing dimmer like snuffed twilight. Although he's near the inky hues Splatter into unanswered coos: While this pained heart bears all To feel his cold of whispers diffuse. Shall we grate hours in tinge of pale? This time... let me request, The tiny stars...

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The point of no return comes suddenly, and without a whit of subtlety, saying: I told you at the start that blaggard has a darkened heart, and no amount of rosy coloring will stop his faithless plundering; and still you go running back for more!...

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They said the sun would rise again, But not how red it burns at dawn— A bleeding orb above the hills, Where shadows march and boys are drawn. We kissed our mothers’ hands goodbye, The station rang with rust and steam. Our boots were new, our hearts unscarred, Still halfway clinging to a dream. The sergeant’s voice was gravel-rough, It ground the child from...

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Have you practiced kindness on the path you chose? Are you thankful even despite all your woes? Do you realize love is all that really matters, but desire for great wealth will leave you in tatters? Can you let go hate and forgiveness learn? Bright light you will see then at the point of no return. ...

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You ...

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Drag back the hands of time  our love has g r o w n in leaps and bounds     we've f~l~o~w~n with b~i~r~d~s many times, returning         to hold an olive branch— our feet s.t.u.c.k in clay, molded by love~     we are now at a point of no return Count the teeth in our mouths  many...

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It’s been a long time since I’ve ventured into this new studio of mine— dust has settled like ashes on the unshelved books and the jars of brushes still packed away in boxes that intimidate me. Since I’m already here I might as well unpack one carton of my past. I slit the tape on a box labeled Miscellaneous, not knowing what I’ll find. Inside, a parrot, a toucan, some...

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