Year Poems | Examples

Premium Member Let It Rain

What a long hot year here,
the cactus are wilting.
Cement is getting soft,
birds in the trees are cooked.
Long hot days with hot nights,
must stop for everyone.
Let It Rain-cool rain now.

Premium Member One Year On

On your first anniversary tears are shed.
More than memories, we want you home instead.

You're my first and last thoughts every day.
You'll journey on within me.
Your memory will not fade away
As long as I live and breathe.

Like the glow of a fire in the wintertime,
Your love warms this heart of mine.

I close my eyes and I see your smile.
I fold my arms and feel your hug.
I watch your shows and hear your laughter.
I sit in the dark and see your light.

I'll carry your light wherever I go
You're no longer here but I love you so.

When I see something awesome I hear your "Wow!"
And feel your emotions during certain songs.
Though we can't communicate,
Somehow I know the things you'd say.

Thinking back, I still wonder why
We never got to say goodbye.

Even you didn't know yourself
That your time to fly had arrived!
You are cherished and loved by all you knew
And today you unite us in thought.

It's hard to believe you've been gone for a year.
Miss you lots Nana...wish you were still here.

Why Is Governor Desantis, Killing So Many People This Year

the papers don’t say it,
they never do—
just the numbers,
like headstones without names.

men and women dropping,
old ones, poor ones,
sick ones who couldn’t pay
for the cure.

you look up,
there’s the smile on tv,
a governor’s smile,
white and sharp as a knife.

he says freedom,
but the graves keep filling.
he says choice,
but it’s always his.


Over One Percent Of Floridas Prisoners Die Every Year In Prison And It's Never In The News

the sun cooks the fences
the guards smoke and laugh
men rot behind steel,
stacked like moldy bread.

over one percent
they die—
nobody counts
except the families,
and the dirt.

a body here,
a stabbing there,
sickness in the cells
that medicine never touches.

no cameras come,
no headlines scream.
just a whisper in the dark,
and silence sells better than truth.

One Year of You, Melissa

One Year of You, Melissa

One year ago, the stars began,  
And heaven said, "She is mine."  
A small spark, a breath so new,  
The world was brighter all for you.

Your giggles flower like morning sun,  
Your eyes, two stars that brightly shine.  
Each step you take, each sound you make,  
Turns average days awake.

You've taught us love in its pure form,
In warm fingers and sleepy sighs.
One smile, a coo so soft,
The world seems new with you.

We have witnessed you grow, in wonder, in awe,
Each step taken in love and law.
From lullabies to weeping whines,
You've filled our hearts, you've filled our skies.

Here's to you, our birthday star,
Our miracle, just as you are.
May grace and happiness be with you,
With oceans broad dreams to chase.

A single candle today, but, oh, the flame
It shines hope, it whispers your name.
Happy birthday, little dove,
You are our world, our limitless love.

Death in the New Year

Our hands are tied, Death
Since you dawned on us this New Year . . .

Shapely bottles of champagnes have shone
And have broken to fragments with the ululation
Of firecrackers that warmed cold and dark wintry skies.
Now, aphonia sets in from unending lamentations.
Headlines, buried by the chilly bones of winter,
Are barren of good tidings.
A chionophile besieges the rim of a sedulous Yuletide
Grieving by oneiric alleys . . .
I speak of the Friedhof of haunting grimness behind
The curtains of howling winds;
Chants that frequent the disease of frightened melodies, stained
With the aged banality of youthful death;
And the purlieu of cremated souls and consolidated ashes.
Daggers are drawn to paint skulls on canvas slit by the
Whispering tongues of fire
Candles burn their tallow gently on the skin of cancer,
A stinkaroo that stinks with rage.
We do not know how else to turn the calendar.
The edges brim with hostile, burning blood,
Frozen with bits of hate and servile penetralia.

New Year hangs the singed sigil of death
On the bosom of fattened scrolls.


Night of the James Taylor Concert during Freshman Year at College

My friend most beautiful
sat shoulder to shoulder with me
after the lights went low
and the show began.

We took in ballad after ballad
the tender voice hour after hour
and a spell was cast.

The song of Don’t Let Me Be Lonely Tonight
spoke to me— I could almost cry.

I glanced at her
and she looked straight ahead.

This was the night I wanted for months
although we had some casual dates

o the times when I pleaded for more

but tonight she was so tender
when I put my arm around her shoulder.

I knew the night was good for her
when we stepped out the elevator
onto her dormitory floor
and the music resonated in my mind.

The taste of her kiss was so sweet
on that special night.

She must have known
it was our last.

Premium Member Years That Ask, Years That Answer

Winter storm. 
Question marks 
fall like snow 
on shoulders bent 
with seeking.

Hollow caverns 
where certainty 
once lived
echo chambers 
of why.

Face pressed 
against cold glass. 
Fingertips trace 
what cannot 
be grasped.

Footsteps 
soft on unseen paths. 
Autumn leaves 
crumble 
in cupped palms.

Dreams, half-formed, 
scatter 
like dust 
through fingers 
that cannot hold.

Shell splits. 
Light finds 
the crack, 
makes home 
in broken space.

Seeds 
in soil dark 
with surrender. 
Emptiness, 
the deepest cup.

Time spirals. 
Winter storm, 
spring light
dancers 
forever entwined.

Seasons turn. 
Seeking becomes 
soil. 
Purpose 
in the endless round.

Morning 
breaks endless night. 
Golden light 
spills through spaces 
carved by questions.

Rain-clear words 
unfold. 
Dark landscapes 
reveal their faces. 
Stumbling 
was beauty.

Coffee steams 
in morning cups. 
Mystery 
becomes 
the ground we stand on.

Sacred spaces 
hold golden light 
poured by doubt's 
careful carving.

We are 
spiral dancers: 
asking, 
answered, 
broken, 
filled, 
home.

Days

Amazing, beautiful
Sunshine
Moonlight
Nighttime
Brightness
Clouds in the air
Whispering winds flowing
Blowing unknowingly
Days upon days
Elated, joyful
The days.

It’s That Time of Year: It’s So Hot!

There are four seasons every year on earth.
They are Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter.
The season now is like boiling water.
This season is mostly good for the plants.
Well, experts say that plants need much sunlight.
All living things need sunlight to live too.
It’s so hot, but need to get used to it.

Oh, the sun! The sun! The bright shining sun!
Some brightness is enough to light up sky.
Not too few and not too much that hurts eyes.
We know you’re here by looking up the sky.
You are gone above when he starts to cry.
You make nature and humans have new life.
You may be there until the end of life.

The Season of the Year: It’s Spring Time

A new season comes
Gorgeous and wonderful plants
Snowdrops and new trees

Premium Member Auld Lang Sighs

It doesn’t happen everyday
Through perilous weather, flies Santa’s sleigh
Reflecting in the Winter sun
Are its legs, in gunmetal grey

Yet as Christmas Eve turns to Morning
Falling behind red-silk and cotton
Among the frost
One’s mind is lost
And all else is forgotten

The children play with what was brought
Without as much as a second thought
From where these marvellous gifts came
Or in the manner how they were wrought

To gratitude, they must adhere
In the closing of the year
Unaware that these times are austere
And each of their new toys, hold near

While countless harsh weeks lie ahead
A return to school, many will dread
And memories, so bittersweet
Will be recalled instead

They say that what goes up, must come down
Such includes the crib and tree
The wrapping and its debris
Whilst wearing a cap and gown
This cold new year evokes a frown

Year After Year

Let the rain fall through the town
From the hills, all around
Watch the flowers grow in sync
They'll stand tall but don't you blink
Then the time of laugh and cheer
Which will never disappear
Fog stays the most of all
Soon after the leaves fall
The chilling age in time is here
With snowfall always near 
The year repeats time again
But the joy that came will stay

Premium Member A Giddy Happy Spinning Two Year Old

I would bring you a dancing two-year-old
A giddy, happy, excited, joyful toddler
She would be wearing a fancy dress
Her spinning and twirling would make you smile

She would take your hands and clap them for you
You would be delighted with her, for she is delightful
She would show you how to fingerpaint and remind you to laugh
that hearty happy full out laugh you have not had since childhood

A giddy happy spinning two-year-old inside a chocolate egg.
What an Easter gift!

Premium Member Hold The Applause

As a young child of five, 
I found myself in dance school.
It was a fun place to make new friends,
as we learned about dancing.
After a year of training,
we were ready for our big dance recital.
The exciting night finally came,
we were dressed in hot pink outfits.
Now it was our turn with music playing,
we marched out onto the huge stage.
Bright lights were on us,
as well as every eyeball from the many seats.
The lead girl froze in place like a statue,
so please "Hold The Applause."
I stepped in front of her,
and kept on dancing.
The other girls followed me,
as we danced across the huge stage. 
We finished our dance recital,
now we will take your applause.

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