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Best Poems Written by Mike Jessep

Below are the all-time best Mike Jessep poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Mike Jessep Poem

Bittersweet Rose

Across the countryside and into the grassland pastures;
inhabits the battle fields that segregate a Peony Rose.
Such as the gentle beauty of the rose that threatens those,
who are drawn to the undisturbed meadows of the divine,
and become caught in the thorn barb and twisted twine.

Coveted by the splendor of our sight,
we horde the natural beauty as it is our given right.
The Peony Roses are captivated in our possessive might.
The beauty must defend or to shatter and remain in a vibrant tatter.

For each life is to begin in the epoch,
of uncertainty, fruitless, and in a perilous world of bitterness.
As for all the desires to be fulfilled in the end of the epoch;
seeking meaning and clarity as their souls,
reaching for sweet unity.  

In the courts,
man throws his mighty stick,
changing the rules, scheming a new trick.
See the weightless power of man
and the fear at hand that he brings.
In the churches,
the prayers of woman 
in a quiet peace,
for a faithful praying
as she sings.

A vicious world with beauty,
hiding as a flower.
Attraction to peril in fury,
as we deviate from a greater power.
Was it a Greater Being’s perfect mistake,
or a beautiful mistake by elements of chance?

In the birth of creativity,
allowing mistakes to creep in.
Seeking the perfect form in nature,
while there is no true formality.

Living with these two extremities,
of the hot desert summers days
and the cold arctic winter nights.
The Peony rose hiding away in the sun rays,
and sleeps under the distant star lights.

Vanity or our pride of youth,
we become prisoners of our own devise.
Dreaming of tomorrow as a given truth.
Selfish thoughts we never considered unwise,
we desire for the things we can never own.
We covet what we see
The beauty we can never be.
The danger of the rose.

The aggressions of a Man
and the tenderness of a Woman
can be read by the hardness of his hands
and the softness of her touch.
Is it the end of a gentle beauty of the rose,
To look at her pedals, smell her sent,
feel her touch,
and still be pained by his thorns in the stem?

Details | Mike Jessep Poem

Divisions of Two

I walk between these divided yards,
through the gardens and the graves.
I can feel the blossom of growing life
and anticipate the withering of certain death.

I step through the institutions,
among the colleges and the prisons.
I grow with enlightenment of an education
and diminish in my solitude of the human captivity.

Through these divisions,
between the light and the dark,
there is my journey.
The unknown glory paths without hindsight.
Sometimes, these struggles take away,
all of my inner pride
and disguises another.
Between these divided lessons,
the people are divided into two.

I drive through the classes,
between the wealthy and the poor.
I see great works of the movers and the shakers
and become disheartened to see the ones,
who are oppressed in their shapeless homes.

I walk my way through the city buildings,
among the corporate offices and gray factories.
I feel the vitality of sales in the city sea
and the alienation in a dreadful routine. 

I travel around in my surroundings,
between the cluttered cars in 
conformed lined roadways 
and the aimlessly free open space.
The life of control and the freedom of choice

The struggle within us,
the emotional heart and the rational mind,
as the spirit is divided into two.
The fight between reasonability or sensibility,
or just wanting to lose control.
The struggle to be whole with integrity.
Through these bounded divisions,
the people are divided into two.

Details | Mike Jessep Poem

Fade Away

I’m fading away.
Like a tired song,
wearing thin on the air waves,
overplayed in the bar seine,
and I am tired out.
I had to walk out, 
it was time to move on
and not to
fade away.


Never been;
Never found,
the connection
to that counterpart.


Still,
it is fun
to hang out
with this crowd
and not care for a while.


The sun is sinking
And it’s cold at night
I sit here thinking
Wondering who might
Color my fading heart.

The horizon is peaking
And I never took that flight
I sit here drinking
Wondering who might
Be that counterpart.



I’m Dreaming;
Like the mind of the child
Who is at home traveling
Venturing the great sea, riled
To fight pirates in the pond.


Never seen
Never found
That captain 
To sail my aimless heart.


Yet,
I’m having fun
To hang out
In this seine
And not worry for a while.


Never had
Never loved
That aimless heart
To find my soul-mate
And make that start.


The sun is sinking
And it’s cold at night
I lie here thinking
Or wondering who might
Color my fading heart.

The horizon is peaking
And I never took that flight
I sit here drinking
Questioning who might
Be that counterpart.

Fading as a sunless sea…

Details | Mike Jessep Poem

What Is Right

A spirit born to exalt.
Shaped to be willed ambition.
Sometimes, 
can be trapped in an oppressive flight.
Yet, the soul will always be determined,
with a sense of mission 
and a sense of 
What is Right.

Lost in a hopeless situation.
Obedience governing the direction.
Struggling between sadness and madness,
and driven into a fitful rage.
Will modes into insanity,
as we turn the page.

One world’s reality.
Already predetermined and justified.
Served on a platter to feed the next mentality of
What is Right.

Feelings, Beliefs, Values, Morality, Popular Opinion,
was it “Right” that gave purpose to all “isms?”
Just as it is for us to decide to let it burn.
Until then, our new change of season,
Will come to smother and turn
All their heads be reason.
We follow all fools
into majority
rules.

When can we all sleep at night,
knowing being dark is a Right,
and the Right of plight
will lose the sight of
The color of Right?

Full of Right, I am blind.
For me to see the sane.
The greatness of a guiding light,
that allows me to be humane.
So full of Right,
prevents me to feel, 
What is good.
And I begin to question,
What is truth.
So then, tell me, 
What is right?

Details | Mike Jessep Poem

Open Spaces

Light shines where darkness lurks.
Color paints the plains when it lacks.
Heat always enter into coldness.
Passion awakens the dullness.
As all breathe new life into an empty space,
And filling in the voids,
To a growing world in it’s own race.

Question life,
And it stirs the thoughts of the imagination.
Wonder is every philosopher’s motivation.
Life, as having no purpose,
But containing so many different truths.
Each promising sense, feeling, hearing, and seeing,
Can trick the mentality of every human being.
So much color in meaning,
In the recognition of multiple truths.
Yet, the world of today,
Is perceived in BLACK and WHITE.
As if we see blind or bright.
And the truth of life,
Only as wrong or right.

Space cannot be without time.
Time is but motion which,
Cannot move without distance.
Distance cannot exist without space.
All interweaving with one another,
Each coexist in a mathematical pace.

Our space, our home,
With every place a heart can hold.
Like a growing city in an open valley of the plains
Filling in OPEN SPACES,
Balancing out meaning and mystery.
While the unknown and the untold,
Lies timeless as the soul of history unfolds.

Details | Mike Jessep Poem

Everyday Missions

In everyday life,
Do we notice what we are dreaming?
The dreams that we cannot hold onto.
These visions of symbolic meaning
Set us in our daily goal.
In everyday missions.

We fill the world with will
Our wild kinetic dreams
Breaking the world’s surface.
Will molds visions
 Into 
Everyday missions.

Has our expectations flown too high?
Seen so far away without the wings to carry.
We still try.
The twist of fate
Will always vary 
From the circumstance.

Please give us a chance
Or a guiding hand.
Find some faith in our freewill.
Give us strength to take a stand.

So much selfish acts without shame.
So little recognition of the real deeds
They come unnoticed to these heartless acts of blame.

And these closed minds with shattered hearts
Trapped in a captive society 
Some will try to escape
Or our drawn to the crowds of festivity
And come home to families 
In a home town.

Give us the right
Or a moment to understand 
Find some faith in the human will
That gives us strength to stand a fight.
The battles of everyday missions.
End…

Details | Mike Jessep Poem

The Age of Youth

Naiveté, for the eyes could not see,
Naïve like the child who knows little.
Now the truth stands before me.
Each year passes now like each day.
I didn’t know enough to be afraid.
My anger had led the way.

My anger, my courage, my strength,
These drives that live for life,
and to die for love.
The wild untamed heart,
It does not rest for the age of youth.

The political power,
Love seems to be our only escape.
We lose the sight of the way.
Drifting along in our careers.
Hidden emotional barriers,
In wanting to explode,
Or take us at mercy.

A discovery of injustice,
Of inequality in justice,
Makes up the quality of life,
And the quantity in rise and fall of right.

Emotions distort reality,
Shaping hopeful illusions.
The longing of desire,
We see the passions of great lovers
And reflect it onto our own lives.

Lost lovers or hopeless romantics,
The stride to kill a pride
In needing to be complete.
Half of us,
With our heads in our hands,
And the other half,
      With our hearts making demands.

Who is this voice of reason
Inside the realms of knowledge.
Driven by hunger, illness, guilt, and anger
We call upon God or a father figure
To battle with our pains.

Details | Mike Jessep Poem

What Little Remains

It’s quiet in this house again tonight.
Alone and I have the television on blocking my sad thoughts.
Sleeping tablets and bottles of wine and I know it’s not right.
Still, I keep those visions of you on my mind,
and the memories of the cherished moments.
When life seemed to treat us kind.

What little remains.
I still hold onto a picture of you and I.
The way that it was and it still haunts me.
To easily I let you go and now the phantom mind will lie.
I’ll never get over you finally walking out.
Plenty of warnings, but I let my anger put me in doubt.

I’ve never been the kind of man to let my true feelings show.
And I believed that being strong was never letting myself cry.
I’m getting drunk enough to lose the pain and let it all go.
To hell with it all, let go of my pride and let it pour like rain.
Crashing onto the floor and let the tears run all down,
like a gentile stream flowing onto rocks and splashing droplets all over.

Does it help if I turned a sad song on?
To let it all go and move forward.
Or does it only make me more realize of,
the loss and to ponder on the choices I made.
Being by myself sure hits me now that your gone.
Living my life on the edge and now your finally done.

Beat down by the burdens of life.
I put myself in doubt and fed off of the strife.
The rare meeting moments of chance we never took.
The places we might of met and never spoke.
Desperate and insecure,
We sometimes take a chance,
Bearing over our hidden pain and under swallowed pride.

Now the truth stands before me.
I should have pulled myself together
Allowing hope and guidance to show that way it should be.
You tried helping me in your own way.
But I couldn’t help myself and fell in a drunken sway.

For what little will remain.
Not seeing the pattern ending just the same.
Making the same mistakes and throwing it all away,
Now we are just a little older and more aware.
And for those who let it all go.
We should had found the inner beauty and let that grow.
For what little remains can still hold us together.

Details | Mike Jessep Poem

I Am

I seek to better myself,
For I am always searching for ways to be versatile.

I seek to enlighten myself,
For I am searching deeper meaning and higher reasoning.

I seek out truth and skilled purpose,
For wisdom is the heart of precision and endurance is my motivation.

I seek creativity within myself,
For my inner passions are fueled by imagery.
 
I seek to enrich myself,
For I am always developing through my interactions.

I seek out the real things in life,
For there are so many styles without substance and so much stuff without style.

I seek harmony and empowerment in my surroundings,
For I must allow space for many living beings in our world. 

I seek ways to quench my thirst for knowledge,
For I live in a growing world of wonder.

I seek ways to promote diversity,
For changes are not permanent, but constant change is.

I seek out ways to express my integrity,
For I have pride and liberty.

I seek out different alternatives,
For doors of opportunity open and close every day.

I seek to honor the quality of justice,
For all the quantity of injustice.

I seek for adventure,
For danger plus survival equals fun.

I seek to explore,
For life is limited and discovery is limitless.

I seek to reveal my identity,
For what I know and what I value is what makes me who I am. 

I seek to be me,
Therefor, I am.

Details | Mike Jessep Poem

What's Your Dream

So life has begun it’s battle
before your dreams have surfaced.

So God or man of a fatherly figure
doesn’t hear you cry,
but you still try.
Try to find some comfort
in some small sort of security.

You tried to understand yourself.
by seeing your future plans.
The image to be,
but you always look back.
Selling your future dreams that you lack,
then wonder about the past and see:

The innocence slipping away.
Loosing the dreams,
and the infatuation to believe.
You sought your vision, eyes alone.
Counted the hardships as a lost victory.
Now I want to know one more thing.
What’s your dream?

So now reality 
is the dull pain of life,
writing you into hidden history.
Did you want your name,
to be known among the stars,
or are you just having fun?
Has your dreams begun?

I won’t look back.
But just to see how far I’ve come now.
Have I lived long enough to rest,
or do I need to keep fighting for this dream?
Soothing my burning needs is the final test.

Desire or forgotten wings,
dreaming drifts you to a higher place.
A final home, living your dreams.
But sometimes you wake up alone,
wondering what angels still stand by your side.
What was your dream?