Free Poems

POEM - By Virginia Nzioka

2012-05-10T02:39:00.000-07:00

POEM

One thing I shall bequeath
To this gorgeous World
One thing I shall share
With the descendants of Eve
The eloquence of poetry
The richness of the Stanzas
That compose poem

Flows with beauty
Oozes with creativity
Sharpened by poetic language
Interwoven with poetic wisdom
To provide leisure
With such an ease
That compose poem

I shall handover
The writs of my poem
To the readers of poetry
With this my request
They unearth the hidden jewel
The natural soother of hearts
That compose poem

The pages of poetry
The diversity of ideas
The simplicity of my poem
Shall be the inheritance
To be distributed to my poetry heirs
To compose another poem

-Written by: Virginia Nzioka

This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.

Lost & Found - By Mani J.

2012-05-10T02:32:00.001-07:00

Lost & Found

Became someone else, for someone else,
And in the process, I lost myself,

Played so many parts, your world my stage,
And in the midst of it all, I lost myself,

Pushed so hard, just to see your smile,
And through it all, I lost myself,

Sat and wondered, what I had done,
And in that moment, I had lost myself,

But I came to my senses, and let you go,
And with that strength, I found myself,

I went back to the role I was born to play,
And with that spark, I found myself,

I remembered the ones who made me smile,
And within a laugh, I found myself,

I found a heart, that's made of gold.
And with that love, I am now, myself.

-Written by: Mani J.

This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.

I Listen for the Water - By Anna McCarthy Hoffman

2012-05-10T02:25:00.003-07:00

I Listen for the Water

I listen for the water

and for a moment

it is Christmas eve

filled with anticipation

the present of you,

unwrapped from your robe into our bed

still steamy, moist and warm

residue from a long day expunged

sterilized, freshened, reborn

into my arms, cupping my body

your breath light on my neck

after so many nights alone

hearing cars go by

airplanes overhead

the television murmuring

in the flat above

The purr of the refrigerator

from the kitchen

until now

I am in bed before you and

the shower announces your arrival

with the applause of raindrops

- Written by: Anna McCarthy Hoffman

My poem may be published online as long as the author is given credit and a link is included to http://regentsparkroad.wordpress.com/

Naive - By Christina Barningham

2012-05-10T02:08:00.005-07:00

Naive

I can’t help, but notice how you push me around,

You force my emotions to escape your sight.

So you don’t have to ask me, if I’m alright.

I’m so confused.

Whose selfish, me or you?

Right now I honestly don’t have a clue.

You’re nothing, but shadows,

Monsters lurking all around me.

Sometimes I wish I could just be free…

- Written by: Christina Barningham

My poem may be published online as long as the author is given credit and a link is included to my twitter page, which is updated with my writing https://twitter.com/#!/cb7396

Spectacles - By Anna McCarthy Hoffman

2012-05-03T10:18:00.001-07:00

Spectacles

Iconic
Those specs that don’t flatter
your face or anyone’s
except maybe Buddy Holly
or Malcolm X
certainly not you with
insecure bleached hair
splayed down the middle
exposing dark roots of
counterfeit and caprice
I observe you sitting in a natty hotel
in this fly part of town
where all the other black-rimmed
trendies revel in retro relevance
graffiti artists, cameramen,
tattooed imbibers,
bespoke boot makers
wear flashback floral skirts
and crotchet collars
taken from grandmother’s closets
cassette tapes swinging from around
your necks and stacked one on top of
the other as wallpaper in bar bathrooms.
A generation of Warhol wannabes,
pop art making spectacles,
repeating frames
circling Old Street roundabout.

-Written by: Anna McCarthy Hoffman

My poem may be published online as long as the author is given credit and a link is included to http://regentsparkroad.wordpress.com/

The Handsome Figure - Christina Barningham

2012-05-03T10:08:00.005-07:00

The Handsome Figure

Stood behind me was a handsome figure I was yet to face,
The music pounded against my fragile ear drums,

until I noticed the little symbol on my phone.
“Boo :),”
Nervous shivers sprinted across every muscle in my body,
I turned to face him.

That warm smile,
Those snowy white teeth,
His god like height,
…Those captivating blue eyes, lined with silver.

Every word ever stored in my mind vanished,
I felt numb, yet happy.
What was making me feel like this?
An arm stretched out towards me,
I relaxed immediately with just one touch.

-Written by: Christina Barningham

My poem may be published online as long as the author is given credit and a link is included to my twitter page, which is updated with my writing https://twitter.com/#!/cb7396

My Heart - By Anna McCarthy Hoffman

2012-05-01T08:41:00.003-07:00

My Heart

If I were to release my heart

it would pour out my fingertips

running across the table into your lap

leaving drip marks on everything I touch

a misty, wet sheen blurring my vision

everywhere I look with dewy eyes,

sometimes a delicate fog,

evaporating in the heat of disappointment

other times frightening in its power to be vigilant

drowning and destroying anything in the way

sweeping the rest of the world behind me

in my wake

-Written by: Anna McCarthy Hoffman

My poem may be published online as long as the author is given credit and a link is included to http://regentsparkroad.wordpress.com/

Dating Profile - By Anna McCarthy Hoffman

2012-04-25T07:13:00.000-07:00

Dating Profile

I am not particularly interested

In the size of your pension

Or body mass index, salary, education

Hair is not essential but hygiene important,

A dash of humor and good dress sense a plus

What I really want to know about you is…

How spicy do you like your curry?

This means more to me

Than job prospects or skill at sport,

How much or how little you talk

In this minor confession

Is the measure of your life,

A foreshadowing of your fears,

Your inherent willingness to risk

Tolerance of all things hot,

How open you are to cultures not your own.

Through taste I have discovered

True compatibility rests

In the garam masala test.

Your ability to seduce me

With the passions of your palette,

Making love to me with each bite

Of saffron rice and naan.

When finally we meet

Our eyes smiling across the table

Forkfulls of contentment

-Written by: Anna McCarthy Hoffman

My poem may be published online as long as the author is given credit and a link is included to http://regentsparkroad.wordpress.com/

Sweat Lodge - By Amelia Hawkins

2012-04-25T07:00:00.002-07:00

Sweat Lodge

The Medicine Man invited the darkness of the night. Not for business, but for accompaniment.

The wounded, gashed cores started to slink out of their ego's and slip back into the womb.

The silence was loud...but not nearly as loud as the cries from each heart.

Water...it claimed the stones, and then disappeared into the clinging black.

The eve of a major festival in a minuscule city lit up the pit.

The rounds continued, erratically at first, then by pattern as recognition set place.

The darkness darkness was providing a lucid world to lose each self in.

An orchestra...it was getting heavier as the musicians started destroying their instruments.

Then, slowly, smoothly, a song was exchanged.

The air was no longer short, but soupy rather, with the occasional bread roll.

We were searching for asylum in a world of refugees condemned to wander.

The Medicine Man told us to maintain focus on our intentions, but they were long ago gone, ran off while they had the liberty, before we could catch them.

Then, as stealthily as a wild beast scrutinizing its prey, we were back next to the lodge, the pit, the egos'...

The womb had slipped away before we could notice, and we were born again, in the same night.

-Written by: Amelia Hawkins

My poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.

Architect - By Anna McCarthy Hoffman

2012-04-23T00:06:00.000-07:00

Architect

My favorite is
the bow tie eccentric
spacial planner, mad hatter
making bedroom forts with sheets and string,
treehouses made of dreams
bouncy castles popping up
in fairytale forests
sagging at the seams with heavy expectations
over budget, over inflated
over heated, over rated
over reaching, over achieving
Willy Wonka with pencil waving
paper wasting
intent on reshaping the world

-Written by: Anna McCarthy Hoffman

My poem may be published online as long as the author is given credit and a link is included to http://regentsparkroad.wordpress.com/

Westminster - By Anna McCarthy Hoffman

2012-04-19T09:19:00.001-07:00

Westminster

Medieval halls smell of savage times

Acts of aggression, human fear for preservation

Fine clothing, fine minds, fine ideas

Pacing these green carpets

Oak paneled passageways

Used for waging war and enlarging empire

Growth of nations over pints of beer and clinking teacups

Ordering the world, redrawing it’s maps

Connecting railways, common language

Deciding society and legality under

The swinging arms of a glorified pocket watch

Eternal timepiece sounding the hours til judgement

-Written by: Anna McCarthy Hoffman

My poem may be published online as long as the author is given credit and a link is included to: http://regentsparkroad.wordpress.com

The First Day We Met - By Christina Barningham

2012-04-18T08:29:00.000-07:00

The First Day We Met

The summer sky was bright and tender.
You and i were friends, remember?
The clock ticks and the cold breeze flows.
As for me, i know where my heart glows.

Why did you do this?
You did this to me.
You stole my hear,
can't you see?

...I've fallen in love,
with the man of my dreams.
You left all your clues,
and all your little schemes.

-Written by: Christina Barningham

My poem may be published online as long as the author is given credit and a link is included to my twitter page, which is updated with my writing https://twitter.com/#!/cb7396

DEEP BLACK SEA - By Nichola Jade Wong

2012-04-15T22:58:00.001-07:00

DEEP BLACK SEA

Darkest parts of a man’s soul,
Consumed vastness,
Let him plunge to the depths of his black sea.
He drowns, he flails,
Wanders, lost in his pitch black darkness,
His merciless wilderness,
Screaming silently, like a motherless child.
Clouds part high in his sky,
Rain falls from his heavens,
Tears he never once cried,
Infinite oceans, once stirred,
Never seem to dry.

Floating in darkness, all at sea,
Vast watery requiem, eyes closed tight,
Quest for survival, with all his might.
A leak, at the base of his core,
A recollection of tests,
Reminders that his heart,
Sometimes longs to feel, needs to be sore.
Consciousness gone, eyes closed tight,
Floating in darkness for quite some time.
One breathe of courage,
Small peep through an eye,
Stops drowning, stops flailing,
Floats still in his darkness, for a while.

Floating in the depths of his black sea,
Eyes open wide, staring at his darkness,
Absorbing nothingness, pit of his soul.
He floats still just for a while,
Patience, his courage,
Darkness starts to subside.
Clouds part high in his sky,
Light shines down from his heavens,
Paths his darkness with light.
Like blinding sunshine tattooed on an eye,
At first a blind man,
Finds the courage to sit in his dark room,
Just for a little while.
Blind man sees, darkness not so dark,
Brilliant light shines behind his darkness.
Never imagined, eyes awed by a beauty inside.
A man’s treasure,
From his quest in his deep black sea.

-Written by: Nichola Jade Wong

This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.

Pieces - By Daria Renata Jaworska

2012-04-15T22:49:00.000-07:00

Pieces

Very infective weather came here today. With all that silence and gore.

What about the shame? Well, it's got an ability to kill us.
What about the shade? It's got the strength to get us back.

What was she wearing under the moonlight?
Was it your star that worn out her thirst?
For there is no might upon her face tonight.
And there is no need to seek for the race of light.

But every sail on her offshore sky has a silver lining...

The most silky and sensitive skin ever written by man was cancelled and torn apart from your brain by society for being nasty.

One December night, one road through hell.

What if what runs your flesh is not what should be called your blood? It makes me sick. A fuel made for stars? A flame? Fever? Some sort of an organic air? Even if the light is not so common - you see.

I will erase my skin, as well as my inner self.

Too proud to let myself be stolen from this world for that long. Such a shame.

Damn. Did that hurt? No, passed as time sheds - for once in a daylight there's someone who win(d)s and leaves for ever.

Jesus what. Four spooky glances at the past. Forty eight entities of consciousness. Fuck you, I'm not gonna answer that gloomy calling.

It's nothing. It's just kind of nothing. What's kind of nothing? Nothing's kind of nothing. Bloody surprise, isn't it? A plastic fever. In every moment we have two basic options: to be dead or to be alive. Isn't it wonderful? It's always something spectacular. It shall always be the most spectacular choice you could've been given for free. I let them forget. It's kind of charming, anyway, it's disgusting. Pretty mindfuckers. It's kind of this kind of a kind nightmare to become a part of me. Very kind. Is it desperate or just blind? It's like I'm drowning deep down in the space, just like a small dead rabbit. So drowsy. So drowsy. So deadly drowsy, so damnly drowsy. Drowsy, drowsy, drowsy. There's nothing but this bunch of roses. So stupid. I care for people who are not even humans for me. Indeed. What, the fuck, is going on?! The grass was stormy that night. Upon the light. Homeless & hopeless. That's the sensation. Darkness. Too near to be real, too far to be fake. Trying to extricate from this volatile world is driving me round the bend. But I know, the point is to believe that your destiny hasn't been lost. Hasn't been lost... that much. On the path that leads to nowhere. Steadily stargazing. Sylvaner sky. Floral drowning. Just like your thought. Just like your flower. Dead amen.

Always a spy, never a killer. Always the last child of future generations. Never promised to be born.
Reckless and wild. The Savior.

Brothers of the haunted blood, we spend our days crying for baptism by the river of life. And here we are, back, in the garden of mythic delights. Pure. Beautiful. Unraveled. Snake's children with the ancient sun on our tails. In the eye of the greatest imposter.

Not able to see you down the street below your confident being, she was sleeping in the voice of depth. Pacing through the void of thousand suns.

Breed city lights upon the nights. Festive silence. As far, as rotten shall it be. And then there'll be no sign of life but this joyful river of dark, dark fate. One hell of a time - how shall it equal being new again? The most justifying hour.

City. It's just a place we leave our hearts in and then we die like every thing. Except these words.

The infantry of infants. Soldier of solitude. Fake & envious. Not jealous. There's a cruel connection between space & will. Believe me, the end is coming to wake you up since the day you were unborn. Wake up, child, wake up. Keep your thoughts into the dust. Pointless words and restless nights - it'll be all gone forever. Fly, fly higher and deeper. Into the lust. Straight into dust. It's just another day to die. It's just another way to kill yourself with a gentle crime. We're all locked up in eternity for ever.

They stormed us into the bargain of our own hearts. And that's how we've sold our dreams. A few skies under the Red Babylon. Children of radiance, charm and thought. With too many broken bones within this ether. Have you ever felt that everything world once used to be melts and sinks through the bars of your hands? If we only could grab the riverblade blindly on this junkyard road.

Because it hurts to be overdreamed to the core. Time is not necessitated. Let it be neglected. Let it burn us down. Let us be thorn by the sudden horses of its insane melody. Come on, jester, let's unchain the absence of endless war. - said the last Scorpio among the living man, standing on the edge of the battle line.

Things. Things, things, things. Why are they being so nasty? Naughty little words of things. Stupid little havin'-fans.

-Written by: Daria Renata Jaworska

My poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit and a link is included to the author's blog:
http://alltradeart.co.uk/daria-renata-jaworska

Believe And You Will Receive - By Leonie Russell

2012-04-15T22:41:00.000-07:00

Believe And You Will Receive

Oh Lord, I'll rejoice and be glad for this day!
To you, oh Lord, I pray. With thanksgiving, I present my needs to you.
I know you’ll find a way.

Without you Lord, I have no good thing,
I can do nothing apart from you.
I find faith in your word; in your time I'll be heard,
Jesus, you’ll know what to do.

I lean on you Lord to answer my prayer,
As I cast my cares above.
You'll always do what's best for me, so covered in your love.

I pray to you for guidance, on worry, fear or strife,
I’ll fix my eyes on the Lamb of God, the way, the truth, the life.

“There's no need to add to the worries, that each and every day brings”,
I look to you God to answer my prayers,
As You know, I need all these things.

“Ask and you will receive”,
Your promise , I do believe,
For those who ask, receive,
Those who seek, do find,
To those who knock, the door is opened,
Jesus, eternally kind.

Let me love you with all of my heart,
And seek your kingdom first,
For you alone are the Holy One, in whose love, I am immersed.

-Written by: Leonie Russell

This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.

MINDFULNESS - By Robert Gresak

2012-04-13T02:13:00.000-07:00

MINDFULNESS

I am ever reminded of God's infinite grace
as I gaze up at infinite space in all its wonder-all its beauty.
I am ever reminded of God's infinite grace
as I gaze upon those in devout prayer, faith and hope shining from each face.

-Written by: Robert Gresak

This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.

JOYOUS ENCOUNTER - By Robert Gresak

2012-04-13T02:11:00.000-07:00

JOYOUS ENCOUNTER

The sky was brushed by flame and all of nature round
about seemed to joyfully shout the divine ineffable name.
Orange, green, and pulsating violet soon appeared, achingly wondrous, scintillatingly tiered.
It was as if the very soul of the Absolute, reared.
A cosmic javelin of glorious light through to the Earths core speared.

-Written by: Robert Gresak

This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.

LOST AND FOUND - By Robert Gresak

2012-04-13T02:08:00.000-07:00

LOST AND FOUND

Cry for errant man,

cry for this abused Earth,

cry awakened souls for that purest of the pure,

for that of shining worth;

that purest truth and the nobility of purest goodwill again come to birth.

-Written by: Robert Gresak

This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.

Ode to a Deer - BY Todd Meade

2012-04-08T01:13:00.001-07:00

Ode to a Deer

A doe lay sleeping in the grass
a lovely and enchanting lass
serenely heedless of all who pass
silent and peaceful, she.

Sleeping all the day and all the night
still there she lay at morning light
her beauties attracted hungry sight
her charms were for all to see.

As the gentle wind made whisper-sighs,
vultures wheeled in brilliant skies
crows in joy arrived, and flies
buzzed and flitted merrily.

At night many a roving beast
crept close for the abundant feast
each morsel savored to the least
by appetites eager and free.

An open cage of clean-white bone
in morning sunlight brightly shone
in grass beside the road alone
silent and peaceful, she.

-Written by: Todd Meade

This poem may be published online as long as the author is given credit and a link is included to the author's blog:
http://poems-and-vignettes.blogspot.com

An Ode to a Beautiful Stranger - By Kirsten Mia

2012-04-08T00:59:00.003-07:00

An Ode to a Beautiful Stranger

It’s almost a complete moon’s cycle passed, when I met the reason I write this…
A scorching Friday afternoon, frustrated, hungry and tired I was,
When he strode in…past me…..
One of the most handsome men I have ever laid eyes on.
His snowy shirt and coal blazer gave no reason for dismay,
Yet on his being, with those sun glasses, a lethal combination indeed!
Odd how my imagination proceeded to remove every one of those articles
Off his frame until in my mind’s eye he stood as nearly as at his birth (chuckle)
My eyes stared and my mouth itched to say something, anything…
In my trance I could not help but hear him speak of food that I so much craved
And my mind was alight with ideas…Thank the good Lord for allergies…
I milked the moment like my life depended on it…and so did he…
Meal time and he handed my feast like a special package…
He looked at me and I swear he spoke and I heard…telepathy redefined…
Only a corner of his lips curled up and it gave me chills to simply look at…
The stolen glances would have made a glance bank broke if ever…
In the day that followed, he warmed up and charmed,
Sitting across me he asked,”you look pretty, what has changed?”
I fought to rip my gaze from him, not to blush, not to flush,
Such honesty and innocence in his question, I could have yelled
“I’m always pretty!” but I just sat there, drew in a long breath and thought…
My charming “boss”…..sigh….If only he could read my mind….
Soon, the weekend was a past cloud and reality set in, back to routine,
Often my mind conjured him up and wished his presence,
And almost as if on que, he blew my mind, swept me off my feet and crept into my heart...
He had read my works and heard me...he will never know how much it meant to me.
On the day that followed next, my battles caught up with me,
My body caved and he came to this damsel’s call of distress…charming,
I would have trekked to Mecca and it still would not have felt as long as that ride with him.
My words failed me and when I found them, I fumbled through them,
My eyes darted about and when I raised them to him,
The central player of my muck-up still sat insouciantly at the driver’s seat…
He had no idea what he had done to me with his irresistible smile and fabulous anatomy,
He quizzed of my troubles and for some reason, it felt okay and safe to tell
And I told…..
When he opened his mouth in response, I was utterly shocked!
His ingenuity and persistence were something out of the ordinary,
He had a most audacious solution to my woes….HIMSELF!!
Time flew and hours made days, days into weeks,
The conversations, addictive, his laughter gave me shivers, so honest,
I was attracted to him! How unthinkable and inappropriate of me?
There really was no end to the obstacles in my path was there?
I owed my loyalty to another, yet I shamelessly thought of him,
He was like a beautiful serpent….I couldn’t help but fit in Adam’s shoes
REGRETABLY,
The more we told of each other, the glimmer it got in my mind,
He was too different, like we came from different worlds,
My head was a maze with no way out…I did not belong.
In the confines of what we had become, I let it out,
He seemed to understand……..or did he really??
Would he ever understand being with someone yet you felt like a misfit?
Would he ever understand growing up in a home you were a misfit?
Would he ever understand my insatiable hunger to be loved twice as much?
Would he ever feel my fear of repeating history as the present I live in?
Would he know how it feels to be free yet so bound by none of my making?
And even if he did, would he stay forever? What of his friends? His people?
His world was too perfect, there was no need for me there…
None the less, I believed…I guess I was a dying man clutching at a straw,
When he looked at me, his eyes gleamed as if they held a secret,
Like everything would be fine, so bright and trusting…..
I made time and space because he had grown on me faster than I could run,
I was fond of him, of his sweet laughter, his nice voice, gorgeous eyes…
I wished him for myself…but how would I tell him that?
And I think that is where I erred…I wanted to lay claim to a free spirit,
Drag him down to the dungeons and shackle him up in my shadows…
Though in my heart, it was affection…thoughts…dreams…hope…
Now I have made peace with myself...
In our being different we are one, yet in them we are two strangers,
I will not rob the world off all the charm that he is…
Instead I will pack up and head for the hills, continue searching,
And write this ode for him so that I never forget…
That I once met a most handsome and beautiful stranger at heart,
Fly away free spirit, color the world wherever you go…
with love, Kirsten*

-Written by: Kirsten Mia

My poem can be used for free as long as people first obtain my permission by writing to kirstenmiablog@gmail.com

Beauty in a Summer Breeze - By Phillip Knox

2012-04-03T10:06:00.001-07:00

Beauty in a Summer Breeze

Swallowed in a dream of bliss,
and sunset berry kisses
in the still of azure skies
I gaze into your eyes.
Your candy sweet lips
hypnotize, mesmerize my soul
making me speak with a lisp
soft whispers of me as yours.
I'm lost for words at such beauty
it eloquently defies
eludes my mind
like visions in a summer breeze
hard to define.
I would steal polyanthus
and lay beds of jasmine
and touch you with the sweetest passion
as i outline your face by candles.
If I could allure you
for you inspire me
I want to liberate your heart
as you exhale pressures with me.
How may I explore the depths of you
open you like oceans,
feel your emotions, your affections
in truth your very essence.
I'm held captive by your style
come away with me for a while
beguile me with a smile
there are pleasures to find.
Your silhouette like shadows of night
tantalizes every thought
every curve in movements of poetic lines
this pantomome in part.
Her finger tips drip elegance
in the moonlight mist
sensations new, her hips
like jewels of skies aglint.
She is delicate as a lily
flawless as a pearl
in sea-blue threads of tapestry
which colors my world, my queen
beauty in a summer breeze.

- Written by: Phillip Knox

This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.

ME - By Virginia Nzioka

2012-04-03T09:56:00.001-07:00

ME

You saw me
At the first instance
Young, simple, untainted, an open secret.

That was me
That you met
My mellow eyes, searching innocently
My supple breasts, slowly rising from my warm bosom
My lips, caressed gently by the evening breeze
It was me.

Was me,
That you timidly touched
That my groin you held, assuredly
Then progressively discovered me
That was me

It is me
That you see
Me, that you have
It is me around you
Full blown, mature, lovely
Curvy, shapely, beautiful
It is me
It will be me.

- Written by: Virginia Nzioka

This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.

Murderer - By Claire Glover

2012-04-03T09:50:00.000-07:00

Murderer

I do not read books.
I kill them. Stab my knife into the pages with
A savage joy. Twist until the words jumble
and a stream Of ink rushes down onto the table
The life's blood of a book.
I let it slide through my fingers, feel
Strange joy as the book's soul
Joins with mine. A horrible deed done
I erase the evidence, place the book back on the shelf
Wipe my hands of the ink, the stray words
Clinging to my shirt.
And walk away
Simply a passerby.

- Written by: Claire Glover

My poem may be published online as long as the author is given credit and a link is included to:
www.quiltofdragonflies.blogspot.com

THE LONG BREATHE - By Sylviah Salima

2012-04-02T20:45:00.000-07:00

THE LONG BREATHE

Am breathing from my soul:breathing the beat:
Breathing my way to love
Am breathing the rhythm
My heart is opened
Am breathing :breathing again:

The sincerity in my tone
The dreams in my mind:The pressure unloaded
The forgone hate:
The love discovered:My mind is made
Am breathing:breathing again

The doors of my heart almost forever shut:
The doors of my love have diverted:
The doors of my freedom are opened:
Am breathing:breathing again:

A lie made up is like a tormented soul:
A lie to oneself is like a dagger through the heart
Forcing oneself is a nightmare in broad daylight
Loving oneself is like finding love through the path:
Am breathing:breathing again.

I escaped my sorrow
I rubbed the pain
I found love:I found you
I choose my path:no regrets in me
Am breathing :breathing again.

Am living the moment:Am living the dream
Am breathing again:Am breathing the love
The hurt is like forgone time
The wind blows my sorrows away
Then I keep breathing:breathing again.

- Written by: Sylviah Salima

This poem can be used for free as long as the name of the author is included and the author is given credit.
If the poem is published online, please include a link to this post.

The Eyes Of Twilight - By Lee Woodward

2012-04-02T20:40:00.000-07:00

The Eyes Of Twilight

A duet – the distant clatter and roll of articulated Lorries;
the internal rumble of inarticulate thoughts – ails my peace.
An instant of clarity is fleeting: unseen faces from broken sleep.
The eyes of twilight wink at sober bed creases.
The morning turns me to and fro,
guides my eyelids up and down – deleting fears and worries.
Then, when I’m ready to fall, the morning reminds me;
The curtains are drawn, the sun ascends,
And reality gently blinds me.

- Written by: Lee Woodward

My poem can be used for free as long as people first obtain my permission by writing to:
lee.j.woodward@gmail.com