- Poems - Page 3
Page 2 of Poems | Page 3 | Page 4
-
Life in the Tank
Fish in the aquarium
‘Round and ‘round I go
No beckoning sun, no siren moon,
Just calm fluorescent glow.
And I need no guide to navigate
The bottom of this bowl.
Existence in this waveless tank
Is all I’ll ever know.
Contained in my house of glass,
There is no room to grow.
But then, all they ask of me
Is that I swim to and fro.
They feed me well, they keep me safe
From any natural foe;
No lines, no lures, no entanglements
No struggle and no woes,
I gently glide in gilded grace,
My life is just for show.
I know a small fish like myself
Could not make it on my own.
I would not long survive my puny fate
In stormy seas, alone.
Here I defy the Darwinian scheme
In this, my cage, world, throne.
So I live my tepid, lukewarm life
Wasn’t that the goal?
"Better to swim in circles
Than dashed upon the shoals.
There are fates so much worse than this..."
See how well I fit my role?
-Sheila Spoering
top
-
Simpleness
Take a step back.
Zoom out of the happiness, the stress, the sadness
that distorts your life and your mind.
Breathe in the clean, cool air surrounding you,
Enjoy it while it lasts.
Take a step back.
Watch the tree branches dance,
Feel the wind empowering over your body.
Listen to the sounds of the night:
the wildlife, the nature, the distant traffic.
Gaze at the moon and stars, gazing back at you.
Slowly, begin to take it all in.
Take a step back.
Realize that without these simple joys of life,
Nothing would exist.
There would be no harmony, no point.
And life would be even more meaningless
Than it has already proved to be.
-Liz Gittsovich
top
-
The Time Snipers
Where does the time go?
Each minute slips past me
On tip toe, like mice past a sleeping cat
I could catch one if I tried,
And put it to work on my treadmill
But other beings are out to catch them too
On the battlements of the library
High up in the dusty air
Snipers on the lookout
for a wandering minute
Innocently slipping past
Looking for somewhere to go
The snipers, with time in their cross-wires
Ready to fire their ammunition
Of melting softness.
A chocolate here, a day dream there
Killing time swiftly
With a velvet garrotte.
Or if it avoids them
There are the marauders who lurk
Low down in the floor boards
Waiting ready to bundle it into their dark coats
From whose depths,
Not one second can escape.
The time thieves wear afghan coats.
Soft and weathered with age,
Warm , inviting as sleep.
Once inside, the time is muffled
And silently suffocated
Its body as transient as dust
So how can I win
Against these cunning rivals?
Each second I snatch is a victory,
A moment saved from the snipers
And the time-thieves
Who lurk, ever watchful,
Waiting to pounce.
-Bekki Pearce
top
-
Feeding the Flames
All that's left is memories
All that's left is pain
All that's left is thoughts of fights
Out in the pouring rain
All we ever had has passed
I know not who to blame
All that I now know to do
Is curse the sky and feed the flame
The city is now burning
The city we once knew
The city that was home to me
Was also home to you
That city is mere kindling
It'll never be the same
I've got my torches burning
And it's time to feed the flame
For years we've wasted life
For years we've wasted love
For years we've wasted prayers
To the heavens up above
For years passion was burning
But now the world has gone insane
The world is catching fire
And it's time to feed the flame
You'll see me in the movies
You'll see me in the sky
You'll see me in the smoke signals
That are whispering goodbye
You'll see that life's a party
And you'll be so glad you came
But you won't see me anymore
I've gone to feed the flame
-John Casteele
top
-
Fall From Grace
The grandeur has fallen from grace,
the elite discarded,
shattered by the reality
that their status means nothing.
Now they worry,
for in the real world
personality is what counts
and their egos deystroyed that long ago.
-Amanda Cobb
top
-
It Only Goes So Far
It only goes as far as my mind allows
I don't dare pass that point
of where I feel comfortable
safe within years of confinement
and carefully constructed walls
build with the blood of the past
holding it all together.
It's only when I shut my eyes and dream
I see past my conscious self
into endless possibilities
a place without restrictions.
Scared and shaking I awake.
did I glimps freedom,
or merely someone else's reality?
It's only when I catch myself looking inside
in a moment when my guard is down
that I see my binds are not permanent
nor are they created by another.
I am responsible
and in accepting that
they disappear.
-Jackie Curtis
top
-
For Jodie
Plainly, simply, and completely justifiably, I am in love.
After a simple three days,
Though known in an instant.
Tonight I went to a restaraunt with my father, his woman, and a relative from abroad,
who I've seen for the second time in my life.
The conversation was family orientated,
The meal was family orientated,
And my shirt was family orientated,
And I was nothing more than short of craving the attention of a so far unmentioned female,
Whom, may I cordually introduce,
Is Jodie,
A woman with more light in her eyes and glint to her smile than a russian diamond -
mine.
I am suffering the grandest insomnia,
And If I fall asleep, my dreams,
Of her,
Everything, from bone to brain,
I can feel it all as if suddenly alight.
My being male doesn't help.
I feel almost pathetic -
I should be digging holes or putting up shelves.
But no,
I'm dreaming of a woman with bee sting lips and drowning blue eyes.
Did I mention the eyes?
I think I did.
Surroundingly desolate,
It's like I'm being haunted by a persona,
And to be honest with you,
It doesn't feel that bad.
In fact, it kind of feels like being on a roller coaster,
Not a normal one though,
One that only I can see, and ride.
My god this feels strange.
Is this love?
This battling confusion,
Constant yearning,
This deceptive shadow on concentration?
I don't know.
Let's just keep these fingers crossed,
as far as my mind.
-John Rogers
top
-
Paving Stones
They say,
That the road to Hell
Is paved
With good intentions.
So,
Precisely what,
Then,
Is the road to Heaven
Paved with?
-Rob Newton
top
-
Gentle King
Fighting the battle,
Romancing the stone,
Chasing the princess,
Owning the throne,
That's what makes me king to her,
Yet soft enough to sing to her,
Holding the fort,
armies from nought,
Vanquish for love,
The love that she sought,
That's what made me king to her,
Still soft enough to sing to her.
Wade through the waters so deep,
To find a flower for her to keep,
Always beside her,
Until he rests me down to sleep.
That's what keeps me king to her,
Forever soft enough to sing to her.
-John Rogers
top
-
Losing, Lost
I remember all those years ago
When the world seemed fresh and young
And there weren't all these shades of gray
And all the songs had not been sung.
The starlight once burned in your eyes
But now I face a night too dark.
I long for your gentle touch
Just kinder waiting for a spark.
I'm losing my mind,
Losing you.
I'm losing my life,
Losing you.
I'm losing my grip,
Losing you.
I'm losing sight
Of what's true.
Roses once bloomed in your cheeks
But now they've all turned to ash.
The joy of light once flowed from you
But now that's all in the past.
I'd like to turn this thing around
Paying no mind to the cost.
What good is having what we've found
If I turn to find it's you I've lost
-John Casteele
top
-
The Lover
I am a goddess,
transcending your understanding of all that a goddess is and can be.
I am whole without your half,
But I wish to share because
numbers excite me and
our one is better than our two,
is better than my one, is better than your one,
and because I am first a lover.
I say these things in hopes of
stopping you from ending too hastily
that which will undoubtedly take hold of your thoughts and your memories for lifetimes,
so that while you eat,
while you drive home late at night,
while you sip your coffee quietly and feign immersion in the text you are reading
so as to avoid her eyes,
while you make love to some exciting stranger,
while you bathe,
while you dance,
your body will be possessed by a trembling so fierce
you will find yourself incapable of containing it,
even at your table,
at the wheel,
at some cafe,
under the stars with some mysterious stranger,
in the privacy of your shower,
on your stage.
You see, love is my calling.
You hear, and so you look away.
And sometimes the lyrics will escape
And you will miss losing yourself
In my music, in my m a z e.
Turn around now, and return
to your sweater, your sofa, your DVD player, your dog.
Many lives content themselves with these simple things,
and maybe you mean to be a statistic.
But if you leave, you will never know.
You will never discover the scent of roses on my skin
when you wake to the song of my mouth whispering your name,
a prayer so beautiful, it draws
tears and sighs and starry eyes
and can only be said in this voice
with these eyes
in this bed
in these legs
in this light
in this sigh
in this hour
sacred only to this pilgrim who sees something new each time she
rests her eyes on you.
Yes, leave now.
Save yourself from these hands
that will touch you under the table
as you signal the waiter for another bottle of wine,
from these lips that will brand you with kisses you know
must have been waiting on a fire for hours,
covering your entirety so that you will think her an artiste
and your skin her impatient canvas.
Protect yourself from this mind
that will duel with yours at whim
until you are exhausted and pleading insanity,
from this pen that will at times persuade you that there is no distinction
between a poem and a naked body,
that might at times capture your essence so well,
you would swear it was a mirror.
Leave now.
For who yearns to be pleasured so?
Certainly not a gentleman such as yourself,
who undoubtedly receives such propositions often
and with equal, if not more, fervor,
from women who fear God and man,
from women who count blessings and calories,
from women who love yes, but only at their leisure.
-Leslie Travis
top
-
Tangles
Finding my own way
to unravel the yarn,
getting tangled up in life,
twisted around,
coming up for air,
holding tightly to the thread.....
and suddenly I'm
a long, long way from you.
You, you were my sister,
my partner in crime,
my gentle shoulder.....
we came so far,
we twin but separate souls,
clinging to a past that
has become a fork in the road.
I don't think I know you anymore.
You are working on
a different piece of thread,
pulling steadily,
searching,
methodically undoing the knots.....
maybe we'll both find our way back,
along the same strand, someday.
-Jenny Clark
top
-
The Complex God
God is.
Is that your God or mine?
What is God?
Many or just one,
Divided into thirds or whole?
Hindu or Buddhist?
Islamic, Judaic, or Christian?
To me God is
Air, earth, and sky
The land and the seas
us and them, you and I
The great void of space
and a molecule, too.
The dreams of the young and
The memories of the old
To me God is
autumn colors on a crisp fall day
a harvest moon
a foggy glen of tiny spring flowers
a gentle snowfall
The songs of the birds or
silence of the night
The taste of honeysuckle
and the smell of the forest
Glacier topped mountains and
puffy white clouds
The colors of the rainbow
the laughter of mankind
To me God is
all that has been and is now
all that will come to be
Is that your God or mine?
God is.
-Brad Pavone
top
-
Ask Me
Ask me,
Go on, ask me,
Why I want to leave,
And I will tell you,
I have nothing left to bleed.
There is blood all over this house,
bitter memories behind each closed door,
And the curtains hang in misery,
Heavy with the weight of arguements,
Ask me,
Go on, ask me,
Why I need to be on the other side of the door,
Far away,
Another planet will do.
Ask me,
Go on, ask me,
And I will tell,
I don't love you.
And you cry,
Bitter sweet tears,
Pleas in regret,
But its too late,
Too many years,
Each one to paiful to forget.
Ask me,
Go on, ask me.
-David Beechey Whelan
top
-
Choices
Who are you?
Have you ever really known me?
Have you ever seen me
As the lover and the fighter
As the thinker and the doer
As the wolf and the dove?
What are you?
Have you ever really known me?
Have you ever glimpsed me
As the worker and the friend
As the musician and the artist
As the student and the seeker?
Did you try
To starve the artist
Demoralize the student
Hate the friend
Rape the lover
Kill the fighter
Torture the thinker
Chain the worker
Bind the doer
Murder the wolf
Cage the dove
And grasp my soul?
Or did you try
To feed the artist
Boost the student
Love the friend
Impassion the lover
Soothe the fighter
Inspire the thinker
Free the worker
Release the doer
Understand the wolf
Lift the dove
And touch my soul?
Which choice did you make?
-Missy Golubowicz
top
-
Slow Dancing
Your lashes graze me like a ghost
Like I don't have a say.
Your fingers find my waist,
I catch my breath, we start to sway.
And though I wouldn't move in close,
I couldn't pull away.
-Leslie Travis
top
-
A Bias Comparison
As a painter uses pigments
To make us see his thought,
All stretched out on canvas
A picture soon is wrought;
A poet uses lesser things
To show a grander view,
A rhyme or metered group of words
Makes us our lives review.
A painter stops a single breeze,
As we see the flowers bent.
We see exactly what he wants,
Exactly as it’s meant
But the poet makes us feel the breeze,
As though we were right there,
As he takes us to a different time
And lets us smell the air
Where the painter has his limits,
In expression, depth, and hue.
He can merely represent
A single time stopped view.
A poet’s brush is language,
His canvas is the mind,
His pigment imagination,
His space is not confined.
The painter and the poet –
Both necessary parts
Of what mankind can offer
With and through the arts.
-Brian Francis
top
-
The Night Before My Future
I see a door that's open slightly;
I wonder if I should go in.
I don't know if this is the end of a dream
or one that's about to begin.
I start to walk down the hallway,
trying to steal a peek
through the misty, cloudy glass
that adds to it's mystique.
I wonder what's behind it,
a future glowing bright?
Or maybe a very different scene
without a lot of light.
And in my sleepy train of thought,
I think about my life.
Should I get a job and earn some pay
and be some nice boy's wife?
Perhaps I should get more schooling
before I make up my mind;
after all, it's my decision
IF I could decide.
I'm getting nearer and nearer
to that door down the hall.
I'm just about to open it
when I hear a call.
I turn around and there I am,
laying in my bed,
trying hard to figure out
what just went on in my head.
-Raquel Miller
top
-
How Many Would You Keep
Of all the dreams you've ever dreamed
Have any helped you sleep?
Of all the memories that you've made
How many would you keep?
Of all the things you've ever owned
Have any brought increase?
And of the all victories that you've won
Have any brought you peace?
Was it the touch of the healer
That cut you like a knife?
Was it the angel of darkness
That gave meaning to your life?
Was it lost hope and confusion
Passed for the joy of youth?
Was it some kind of illusion
That brought you to the truth?
Of all the friends that you have known
How many are still there?
Of all the lovers that you have loved
How many really cared?
So many ships that sailed the seas
Now lie down in the deep.
Of all the memories you have made
How many would you keep?
-Michael George Brock
top
-
Extended Forecast
The dream weaver dreams no more
The rainbow builder has lost his tools
The lamplighter quivers with fear in the dark
And still, the storm rages on
The lightning blinds, the thunder deafens
The space between the two is black and silent
The ground cannot absorb the rain
It rolls away in torrents
Carrying away the fragments of a life
We surrender a dream here, a wish there
And soon, all that is good and right
Bows to the violent agitation of the storm
All hope and joy are sacrificed to the tempest
Only the fear remains
Reinforcing the storm's awesome power
The victory is complete and total
Nothing is left to surrender
And still, the storm rages on.
- Joanne Bean
top
-
Goodbye My Dear Friend
Memories of the past keep echoing through my mind.
Bringing me back to a youthful bliss, a simpler place in time.
School girl memories of you and I at play.
Promises we made on long warm summer days.
But sometimes life isn't kind and promises go astray.
With destiny a mystery those long warm summer days.
Oh, how it came to pass and changed our place in time.
I watched you lose your hope and dreams, while sharing only mine.
You seem to find a smile as I'd come home day by day.
As you'd wave to me through the window next to the bed on which you laid.
Day after day I watched you get oh so frail.
Your eyes drew so dim, your face became so pale.
From the distant age of ten until the age of now,
I still can't comprehend, but you got through the days somehow.
Not till your last good-bye, did I understand,
why God chose you to fade so soon, changing all our plans.
Angels can only visit, they're never meant to stay.
God called you home to be with him and in Heaven is where you play.
So I will say good-bye, until we meet again.
You'll always be a part of me, good-bye my dear friend.
-Ruth Schreiber
top
-
Hollow
Your absence is stronger than
the presence of anyone I know,
making itself felt
through every conscious moment
of the day, and in
restless dreams in the night.
Going through the motions;
I talk, I walk, I laugh, and
no one seems to notice the
missing parts:
my hollow heart,
my bruised smile,
my empty hands.
This never gets easier.
-Ceallach Allen
top
-
Page 1 of Poems | Page 2 | Page 4
Visitors:
