Wisdom Words Poems | Examples
These Wisdom Words poems are examples of Words poems about Wisdom. These are the best examples of Words Wisdom poems written by international poets.
Every statement I make
is a question to someone --
how we juxtapose truth
and conviction. All seeing
the same things slightly different…
looking for toll-free bridges,
no one wants to pay the actual
dims and weight.
Even love has a price-tag,
draws of cards and petals for mulch.
It’s too often about recognition,
needing outside sources to
feel internally alive and poignant,
the God connection, for many
in those lonely physical hours
seeming not remedy enough.
------------------------------------------
I sat to measure the sky,
its width and depth,
limited by my senses...
I thought to measure my
heart, limited by your feelings --
Truth, a 5 letter word
should have more emphasis
than the 4 letter words
now having gained favor
in our language – children
use them freely, example
set by parents. F this and
F that...F n good grade son,
daughter. Don’t be late
for F n school. Listen to
what the F n priest says,
He knows F n Best. God
only has 3...fearing soon
another acceptable 4th --
I know, F this preachy write,
just more of the F n worthless
Same! I can see the next
new bible translation: Paul
accidentally spilled
the sacrament wine, and
Christ was F n irate....
the last page is gone
torn cleanly out of the book
no final words wait
the story stops mid-sentence
somewhere beyond the torn spine
endings gather there
each one wanting to be true
none can reach the door
every ending stays alive
on the lost page still in flight
perchance it escaped
slipping quietly from print
into someone's thoughts
weaving space between bookends
the story scripts the reader
Do you paint with words?
Well, maybe you are a poet!
Of course, all words, by themselves
are morgues for art~ stores for outwardly
portraying
one’s private thoughts and feelings in
colorful, expressive ways. The baby
paints her own basic language – cries her
picture gestures,
hopefully appropriately responded to
by loving parents, often challenged
to transcribe
a vaguely familiar, long forgotten
non verbal~frantic vocabulary –
So, words are clearly voice: while liquid,
like blood and oils – they are colorful, the
pigments of flowers and death --
and when a relationship fails, the essence
of words are what
we frame and tearfully regret.
penumbra gathered at the edge of evening,
that quiet border where outlines loosen
and the world seems to reconsider itself.
I walked through it without urgency,
letting the muted light imbue each surface~
a fencepost, a drifting leaf, my own breath~
the dimness offering a wisdom untouched by light.
a quiet drift of air brushed the understory
as if uncapping a bottle of elixir
mixed from resin, cool bark, and the faint
metallic scent of approaching night.
nothing reached out for meaning~
yet the moment felt quietly inhabited,
as if presence itself were enough.
With pen in hand,
while others quantity scribble
the poet choice-fully writes….
(The latter requires more
thought, and perhaps less
feature – a truer poetic portrait
minimal angel a bit creature -- )
Do you want your last words noted,
oft repeated, and endlessly quoted?
More than wit and wisdom, you'll need timing,
and, in my case, they'll be rhyming.
Love can do little more than suppose
an eternity. Your charming
inspiration drawing me deeper
into The Poet’s Right of Lyric
Passage. Conclusion: a writer
only dies outside his text – each
composition a fond tease of
omnipotence.
So much to be said
and only a lifetime together
to say it --
So much love yet to give --
hoping we can hook-up
in the life hereafter….
Some days are strewn
with oughts
and pending obligations;
others with
ought-to-have—
ought-not-to-have
must-do
have-to
need-to
better-not
maybe
maybe-not.
Then on quieter days it's
what-if
why-not
if-only
what-might-have-been.
forget-me-not
has seen better days,
then again—
perhaps,
perchance
oughts
have become
noughts
or neighs
time's up—
just do it—
let's dance!
We pour parts of us into
every poem~ a self-inflicted
wound, the point of a pen
drip, drip, spurt, spurt – a Fever
Abater --
Ideally One’s Spirit~ a positive Universal
Donor!
Breaths and words, inseparable
are cousins with heartfelt translations --
Life-force, heart, soul~ Divine opportunity inherent in
every vehement articulation – may our pronunciations
be those of love and forgiveness~ “Live long and
prosper” as that Great Vulcan, Spock, bade us.
"What I have Learned about Broken Promises is Priceless." By Poet
As a young child,
friends would make a promise.
They would break their word,
followed by hurt.
The dating world was famous for this trick,
as boys loved to break their promise.
Did it make them feel powerful?
Maybe!
My dad was a very wise person,
he never made many promises.
Guess he knew the pain hiding behind words,
words that were unkept are friends with lies.
He would say,
we will see or maybe.
I knew if he had made me a promise,
it was guaranteed to be done.
So glad this lesson was learned as a child,
thanks dad.
Keeping it real this
morning, writing of the 60’s --
Bandstand, cookies-and-cream,
hot-dogs and home-runs --
M&M Boys, swinging for the crown!
No brow-burner~ a basic poem
without the fancy footwork of Astaire
and Rogers; no dangling metaphors
Like Hand-jive with knives, sanguinary
Greaser-floors --
Poetry is not written to be read
More like, lived to be written --
And then by those natures so inclined
who survive, in verse form to the rest
of us unwashed, spoon-fed.
AHHH…
The sexing of words…
An ****** of wisdom:
Awareness coming…
Better suited for waste
than for news
Wise folk tear them up
~ these crepe paper views