Written Poems - Poems about Written

I haven't written anything truly meaningful in a while, my soul is silent, So, could you speak to me a little more, give me a voice through your presence? It’s not about selfishness, but the ink in the pen yearns for your attention, it trembles, It desires you, more intensely than I do, in a silent dance of...

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I walked a quiet road at dusk, Where frost lay silver on the grass, And in the stillness, words I sought Some startled birds would rise and pass. They brushed my cheek, they touched my hair, Then vanished into fading blue; I thought of you, old friend of snow, Who spoke to silence, stern and true. Your lines were fences in the mist, Your...

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On a tablet of stone, Mankind was made known, A covenant of laws to abide. Not a place remaining to hide. Sinful nature that leads to death. Come seek God who created breath. On a foundation of sand, Was written one shall not stand. The storms, wind, and waves. But by the One who rose from the grave. For all have sinned and shall not...

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Dear Lord Jesus You're my friend and You are my brother even though You are a King, I love You more than any other and my soul belongs to you. You're my Rock and You're my Shield to You alone will I gladly Yield. As the deer pants for the water, so my soul does long For You. I ...

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I want to weep at the destruction of poetry that comes now with the use of...

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In all the books of history written with ink of blood and dried tears, There is no war that was not hatched in the shadow of palaces of power, Governments alone, like birds of prey sharpening their claws in silence, Independent of the hearts of people, for whom war is always poison. How many generations have marched on dusty...

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Some souls don’t chase the blinding stage, They live between the lines of age. Not carved for fame, nor shaped by fame, But born to set the stars to flame. I wrote a script in desert sand, A tale of fire, of heart, of land. Dubai lights danced upon the sea— And in that dream, she came to me. Her steps were soft,...

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time and seeming aging affects us all that's the story told and told convincingly yet appearing with a healing emptiness appearing as these words...

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There once was a sensitive vicar, who said, "I'm not one to bicker, but the peal of that bell, makes me feel quite unwell, and plays merry hell with my ticker." An incensed old soul by the spire, preaching incense-igniting to the choir, exclaimed, "There is but one catch, when striking a match, don't set your surplice on fire." A parson spoke from the nave, "Spend...

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At thirty-eight, his story seemed to have already been written, he sipped his coffee and recalled where he went wrong or maybe got it right, for he had grown tired of the insurance game, of small offices with glass walls, of clients who came and went like faceless, soulless shadows. He was weary of the lies told to his...

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Red bracelet My mother went to ganga And bring some gifts Some gifts for my sister Some for my brother Some for my daughter. And one red bracelet for me That red bracelet I didn't like it once It was made up of 12 beads with centre of an eye I don't want it on my hand Just want...

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Mothered inspiration birthed from the seed of my soul send my mind in to a frenzy with racing thoughts hard to gather and control Words roll off my tongue with provocative pronunciation climaxed by the inflection of each insertion of punctuation ejaculated thoughts wrestled into pleasure provoking position are gone over back and forth and back and forth...

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If no one seems to give a hoot about a poem you've written, try reading it out loud to your dog or to your kitten. And if, as you read it, all the while, you see their tails wag and their faces smile, it was worthwhile ~ at least ~ from where they're sittin'. ...

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An outcast this night, I mournfully sigh with gloom: but, I make war, fight! to defeat my rising doom, and defend my haunted tomb. ...

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There is a teacher I know. Someone who walks into the classroom like he’s stepped into a memory, quiet and worn, yet still showing up. He doesn’t speak much, but when he does, his voice carries more weight than volume. His words are deliberate, as if each one has been measured before release. There is...

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