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Best Poems Written by Jake Werner

Below are the all-time best Jake Werner poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Jake Werner Poem

Please listen

I wish I could put pen to paper and stop the fight,
put mankind on a different plight.
To make people understand, 
that we as humans must demand;
race, religion, gender, sexual tolerance all,
stop listening to hate causing the squall.
It makes no difference who you are,
the clan or a country from afar,
whatever the color of your skin, 
or what religion you are in.
It’s time for the world to take a break,
words and action cause heartache.
You have one mouth but a set of two ears,
controlling the one will prevent tears.
Whatever philosophy you believe, 
to merely listen to others and you’ll perceive,
that nothing of others is all untrue,
and understanding perspective we can undue,
the sanctimonious history of religious wars,
the endless fight of political soars.
If we could all just pause and think,
we need mankind back from the brink.
So no matter the battle or side you’re on,
there is no line that can be drawn,
where your opinion or belief,
is paramount to others.
You are simply not commander and chief.

Details | Jake Werner Poem

Pleasures in Life

If we start we may not end
but, here it goes for a special friend.
In no particular order or rank,
too many people to mention and thank.

So lets move on to other things,
like a package waiting when the door bell rings.
The telephone beeps a call from our son,
One of the grandkid’s football team won.

The rain keeps coming in it’s endless streams,
but the crops and the flowers are happy it seems.
The lighting and thunder flash and clap,
While I lay on the couch just awoke from a nap.

The fire in its place gives out a warm glow,
and surrounds us with peace from head to toe.
You curled in the chair reading your book, 
Me thinking about what’s for dinner to cook.

Out the window I spy a hawk on a branch,
searching for dinner if he gets the chance.
The big dogs at your feet rise and shake,
It’s time to go out for a bathroom break.

Out on the porch the air is crisp and clean,
the dogs running and playing the usual routine.
Out in the fields the angus slowly move,
chewing their hay and apparently approve.

The ducks and geese in the pond below,
swimming in circles with chicks in tow.
Out she comes with a bottle of wine,
sets on the table and puts her hand in mine.

We sit on the porch as the sun slowly sets,
both of the same mind, no regrets.
Around the corner and onto my lap,
the old cat wanting a place to nap.

I have traveled far and wide,
I’ve seen most of Asia and swam in many tide.
Africa, Europe and islands I’ve been,
Thinking about it makes me grin.

In truth this journey I’ve been on,
to my pride five children spawn.
I’ve met people of every race and creed,
with some I argued but most agreed.

To me there is but only one race,
It is the human one we must embrace.
Yet let’s be ware that evil does exist, 
knowing Buddha, Mohamed and God persist.

This world we live in, big yet small,
amazing people who have answered the call.
Such a big planet with such amazing sites,
ancient cities, oceans and mountain heights.  

There’s nothing better than a full harvest moon,
yet me and the sun, we are in tune.
I wake to greet it most every day,
and stand and clap as it sinks into the bay.

My fortune is in the people I have met,
the fishing, hunting and nature kept.
Elk, moose, buffalo and bear have seen,
fished lakes, rivers and mountain steam.

However, in all of the world’s places I have seen,
countries, oceans and and fields of green,
My truest of all pleasures in life,
are on this farm, sitting next to my wife.

Details | Jake Werner Poem

Memories of a Storm

It rolled through last night,
began at dusk.
A glass of wine while sitting on the porch
and the distant  thunder began.
 
The sun shrunk away,
almost in fear it seemed.
The songs of birds quieted,
and the trees began to move.
 
Without much notice the once blue,
moved to the other side, it’s gray.
That which seemed light by day,
was now dark and heavy.
 
With bottle half gone,
suddenly, lightning strikes with criticism.
The little sting of drops,
and then the rains commence.
 
Totally unleashed the torrent begins,
it jolts, bangs and crashes.
Heavy now, non-stop,
nowhere to hide, dark, unceasing.
 
Without remorse or worry,
the storm at peak.
The last sense of things leaves,
and the remains are dark and grisly.
 
The sound now like a train,
with the instincts of the wild,
lashes out,  cutting across the sky
and shaking the ground.
 
There’s no turning back,
time and life only move forward.
Everything has been soaked now,
shaken by thunder and bitten by lighting.
 
At last it slows,
tired and worn.
The energy is spent,
it has left a cool emptiness.
 
Some quiet now,
drops like tears from the shaken trees.
The wren’s head appears from its nest,
In the hanging basket of flowers.
 
At dawn the sun peaks,
as if testing the safety of things.
Beside me, the blue returns,
no memory of the for- nights storm.

Details | Jake Werner Poem

Dance of Dreams

In the evening, on a moon lit sea
if you stand on the shore and admire
you will notice, not one, but a million twinkles

As the light from moon reflects on the sea
its not shown as one but pieces of sum
like the hopes and dreams yet to come

The weary heart can take note
that all who have passed before this shore
still linger here in the light of night

The lawyers, doctors, teachers and pupils
the love struck wanders, farmers and bankers
the builders, preachers and store keepers

They stood here watching, fixing their sight
on the lapping waves across the endless plight
of water dancing in the night

And all of their hopes and dreams became
part of the very thing they seam
the multiple light of the moon lit sea

And now the light from that very moon
shines its light for me to see
my hopes and dreams flicker in that same sea.

Details | Jake Werner Poem

Happy Holidays

The wonder of wonders
Christmas brings,
the season of all
the best of things.

Two thousand years later
choir’s still sing,
hark the herald
remember the King.

Shoppers fill stores
searching out for,
the perfect gift
for ones they adore.

We with a bit more age,
also remember when,
our dreams too
were wistful then.

Making our list
and into the mail,
headed for Santa,
we believed the tale.

Wishing for bikes
or barbie dolls,
quite a bit different
from I-Phone calls.

But all in all
it’s still season,
when family and friends
join for good reason.

So with good cheer in the heart,
and eggnog in hand,
Merry Christmas to all
throughout the land.

Details | Jake Werner Poem

Hinge people

Have you ever felt like a hinge?
Holding two things together 
while knowing they will soon separate,
and then hopefully reunite.

I think about this when I open the frig.
I often leave the door open if I am merely
going to return something after use,
hoping to save wear.

It is humorous in a way.
Thinking about one’s life
in such a manner.
The life of a hinge.

When you think of people,
it does make some sense.
You have those that are angry,
proud, stubborn, resolute.

Then others who are easily swayed,
emotional and often offended.
The hinge, brings them together
again and again..

The hinge seeks resolution,
in a world torn apart
by politics, fear and emotion,
forever seeking to bring it back together.

Details | Jake Werner Poem

Autumn has arrived

Autumn has arrived.

The sycamore are starting to loose leaves, and the corn fields
almost ready to be picked, indications of its arrival.
Though the temperature, especially in the evening has cooled,
it’s still not quite demanding a sweater.
The night creatures haven’t ceased their songs.
The last of the tomatoes still cling to the vine,
and potato plants withered and hilled, still to be dug.
But as this big ball turns and tilts, ever so slightly,
I can feel it. The month or day isn’t all that important.
Life moves on at its own pace and we humans,
merely participants in this universe, move with it.
Like the sycamore, the mirror reflecting my image indicate it has begun.
The age of summer has gone.
The mind is still sharp and the muscles, stronger then most,
at least at this age, like the last of the tomatoes.
Similar to the songs of the night,
plenty of life and work still ahead.
But all too soon, it will be time for winter’s sweater.
Though seeming early, Autumn has arrived.

Details | Jake Werner Poem

You choose

Would it not be nice, 
if somewhere between,
plugging in your phone,
and turning off the light,
you were able to choose
your dream tonight.

Where would you go and
who would you be,
if upon closing your eyes
you would become,
the king or queen
of fantasy’s kingdom.

Within this delusion, 
which you control,
the sky is the limit,
and you brush the paint,
onto the darkness appears,
the picture you hallucinate.

Out in the green pasture,
along a babbling brook,
under the shade of a tree
a picnic blanket spread,
and upon that quilt,
my love laid and read.

A large grey hound
slept at her feet,
while birds in the branches,
sang a afternoon song,
next to the brook,
where leaves float along.

So this is my choice
as I turn off the light,
if I were able to choose
my dream tonight.

Details | Jake Werner Poem

Maternal love

He felt the void from early on,
and knew innately the loss
of something beyond touch.

A life of bad choices,
and failed relationships, 
still left him searching.

He witnessed it in others,
friends and family,
the relationship, bond and love.

In the Fall of his life,
he identified the piece missing
and hoped it was not too late.

Details | Jake Werner Poem

Memories of a snowy night

It started last night, gently falling, large flakes.
I was back again almost instantly.

All the faces, my brothers, friends and neighbors.
Everyone is bundled, wearing half the clothes they own.
The speed and thrill going down the hill and 
the long, cold trudge climbing back up again.

The warmth of the bonfire once you finally reach the top.
Jokes and heckling about the previous run, 
then do it all over again, and again….

There are no worries here, 
no democrats or republicans. 
No one has children or mortgages, 
and no one has been to war.

We pile onto large inner tubes from tractor tires,
the more the weight the faster the ride.
Piled high down “Suicide Hill” with reckless abandon,
headed for the frozen creek below. 

The bodies of snow warriors are tossed aside,
we are the children of the cold dark night.
Our laughter and screams echoing as a song,
throughout the surrounding hills.