when I first met you, you like my poetry now you say you leaving me cause my poetry has become too dark almost like it has joined hands with your current demeanor-dark what happened to that spark that so delighted my heart and I can't click checkout cause my cart is still open with needed healing items cause you have become so dark. I miss yo poetic spins that spunned me into estacy..stuff like I Am Secure In Your Behavior; Welcome Back Stray Cat; Mah Nex Wife. Some say your poetry is whack. is that why you and your writings became so dark? they whack!
please come back.
Copyright © Monty Rocke | Year Posted 2025
Wondrous poems are melodies
Emancipated from live trees
Freed at last from trunk and limb
Freed at last to sing their hymn
Transplanted in the hearts they've torn
Transplanted by the poets they've borne
Echo in our hearts as rhyme
Echo through the sands of time
Written down with pen and ink
That all,
That would,
Might stop and think
How wondrous a poem can be
That's written deep within a tree
Copyright © Jon A Cavanaugh | Year Posted 2012
Unable to sleep or pray, I stand
by the window looking out—
at moonstruck trees a December storm
has bowed with ice.
White Oaks and Maples concede
beneath the crystalline weight,
their branches falling brittle upon
a frozen tableau of memory.
Love—that old revolutionary road,
veers sideways toward scrutiny;
where I've wandered, reliving moments
at the long junction of unease.
But make no mistake—
The trees themselves, as in winters past
will endure their burdening; broken thrive.
Am I less to You, my God, than they?
What does this have to do with love?
I shatter a mirror just to glimpse
the shifting umbra that lurks behind,
searching for the source of wholeness.
I hear it—the mutability of love in stead,
its voice, cutting a swath through leavings;
worn, blessed, shaped by earth
while rising out of what was lost.
I pull thread by thread, at memories lost,
as if to weave them back together;
but each attempt reveals the tear
in every promise once coveted.
Is love then, nothing but a gap—
a space we fill with longing,
a promiscuous fire lost in the cold
leaving us searching for its light?
The trees, staunch, their silence deep,
and in their forboding, I see more
than in the frantic rush of hearts—
they bend and splinter yet carry forth.
Love is not the comfort we expect,
rather the oscillating tension
that reveals even in ruination, there
is life's will stirring in the dark.
Copyright © Darius Benhaim | Year Posted 2024
swirling gracefully
greeting heaven's rays with bliss---
...awesome whales'* delight.
*Genesis 1:21 And God created great whales, and every living creature that moveth, which the waters brought forth abundantly, after their kind, and every winged fowl after his kind: and God saw that it was good.
April 19, 2018
6th place, "Haiku on Fish" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Mick Talbot; judged on 4/23/2018.
Copyright © Beata Agustin | Year Posted 2018
Listen to poem:
It seems so simple
When you close your eyes,
Peace disappears,
And blood fills the skies.
Setting out for the Good
Describing the dance
Framing experience
Tossing to chance.
We pull back our morals
We aim our desire
We target our lust
And enter the fire.
Copyright © John Rockk-Fiordelisi | Year Posted 2016
I'll always be there
haunted by memories
lost in unhappiness
nothing else matters
Copyright © Karen Croft | Year Posted 2011
predictable pairing
like plans and lovers
two sparrows fly, flirt
wing beats hyped
to dull the scent of overcrowded news
in spring air, grinning
scrappy species
two birds that pitch and swoop
an operatic flow
their sheen of relatability
braided together
a courtship gallantry
in circled bolts
when two birds fly about you
suspenseful joy
like an untroubled sigh
re-directing thought
seasonal movement
a flight of promise
that opens to the sky
Copyright © Brian Sambourne | Year Posted 2022
Two exits up ahead.
One to the left could go west,
One to the right could go east,
I could drive straight past
Continuing down the predictable path.
The exit on the right provides a return
route to beginnings — attempts at do overs.
The other tempts me. It is new unexplored
A place to forge forward despite mistakes or
I could just continue forward.
Going straight ahead keeping my momentum
Following the route laid out by me for me
Relentlessly marching one foot in front of the other
Accomplishing surviving plus ignoring regrets
Going forwards is best, at least that is they expect.
They are not driving today. It is my choice.
Left, Right or straight ahead. The explorer,
The part of me that thinks I am still young
Suggest left. It probably won’t kill me to take
A look. But can I glimpse and return.
The ramp on the right speaks to me
“Going to your past will not change it,
Following me to make amends is necessary
Unavoidable, if you do not take me now
I will show up again.” What is right is not always helpful.
Wondering about what could have been
I responsibly continue straight past each exit.
Hopeful the choice will come up again
So I can visit the past, heal some more
Or move on to the new and unexplored.
Jeremy P. McKay
Copyright © Jeremy McKay | Year Posted 2024
Again we presume one another
Revealing to highest degrees
I play up as you shoot down
Intentions for you to leave
How you open for me so easily
What I see and what you think
Lies aren't behind the midst
Truth isn't disappearing ink
Copyright © ... Gigno | Year Posted 2010
The ant is one who works all day
and barely sleeps at night.
And seldom is he, if ever,
fearful of an unjust or a losing fight.
He lives to serve a queen
and she he never sees.
But he is hers in mind and soul
to do with as she please.
She dictates and rules to all her breed
with a simple yes or no.
For she is the queen and her word is law
this we all know to be so.
But the queen behind her mask she sneers
at the knave of an ant and all his peers.
who work all day and through the night
and fight the battle of a losing fight
and believe that because of her
what they do is right.
Yes, we are all ants,
one and all
constantly ignorant of our own minds call.
Copyright © Paul Flynn | Year Posted 2021
To David …. The One With A Lion’s Heart
I never knew you...
At least this side of eternity…
In a way though….
I did know you….
I recognize your heart…
I know the pain of the struggle…
To keep one’s head above water…
Trying not to drown amidst the pain…
Tired of going under…again and again…
Weary of struggling to stay in this life…
Wanting with all one’s heart to be free from the pain and struggle…
To be with Jesus…the Lover of Your Soul….
Running free in the fields of heaven…
Free from the torments of this life...
I know the pain of being confined to the “healing hospital”…
Where one’s dignity is taken away…
Where one’s voice is not heard...
Where no one asks “why?”…
Where you feel alone and scared and misunderstood….
I know the pain of no one understanding the depths of despair…
That life is too much…too hard to continue the journey...
You were a sensitive soul…
You felt deeply and passionately about life…
Your heart ached for those whose voice was silenced…
You roared like the mighty Lion of Judah…
For those who could not roar….
You felt the pain and suffering of the weak and broken…
David…you …a protector and warrior for the down trodden…
You …a man after God’s heart…
You knew His Heartbeat…
You.. so loved by your family and friends...
You were broken…
You are healed and whole now….
Your heart is free from pain and ache and longing…..
I long for the day when I can meet you …
Face to face…spirit to spirit….
And give you a hug….and say…
Words that I wished I could have said face to face to you on earth:
I know…it is ok…I understand…
You could not hold on one more minute…one more hour…one more day…
There is no condemnation….no blame..no shame...
Rest now…in the loving embrace of your Heavenly Father…
You are so loved…..
You are home now….
by Elise Hendry
December 9, 2018
Copyright © Elise Hendry | Year Posted 2018
There will come a time
The melancholy of loss will overwhelm
Tears will bring no solace
The despair complete
The arms will reach out
With no one to embrace
The beauty of the last
Breath will be taken
*
Copyright © John Crawford | Year Posted 2023
There was trouble written all over her
like a treasure map, gold buried deep
between the missing ampersands
where to begin,
X marks the spot
Y chromosones
like quicksand YX
rolled up, a necessary
reoccurring addiction
sage smoked slowly
then fed to the sharks
gold buried deep
between the missing
ampersands
the better treasure
hidden
XX marks the spot
Candide Diderot. ‘24.
Copyright © Candide Diderot | Year Posted 2024
The Time to Rise Up
Swirling like the waves of the ocean
is all around you
moving and shifting
Turmoil bubbles up
taking hold of what ever it can grasp
Swallowing with its intensity
Don’t let it overtake you!
This is not the time to lose control
It’s time to shine
Time to rise up
You’ve waited patiently for this moment
The glory that you were meant to declare
has come to you
For such a time as this
Your radiance for all to see
You have been tested and tried
Found to be pure
Your brilliance overtakes
All those beside
Rise up, my friend
To behold your destiny
Choose to shine your light
Don’t look to the left, nor to the right
but straight ahead.
Rise higher and higher to greater depths
Mountains be removed
Rise up to shine like the glorious morning rays
Peeking through the skyline until the full day
Dispelling the mundane and dreary clouds
With tremendous light
Burst forth and shine bright
Rise up!
Grace Daub
Oct. 22, 2020
Copyright © Grace Daub | Year Posted 2020
There is a man, locked away.
Shackled, chilled rusty bars, barb-wrapped fences
apart from his fellow man.
Shunned, unseen and unheard,
stigmas of a world unknowing of repentance.
Of reawakenings and redemptions.
A walnut gavel, robed fist clenched,
brought down upon hard top of sacred bench,
Its loud knock—a plank walk and a drop.
The man, crestfallen, eyes on toes,
led, tied, wrists to waist, foot to foot—away he goes.
Cast overboard into the dark blue seas of oblivion and doubt.
Seas achurn with the harsh musings of a mind stripped to its core—
layer above layer of guilt,
of unvoiced apologies,
of myriad what ifs...
Backed by time, poor choice, and circumstance,
into the darkest of dead ends,
forced to about-face, to look the monster in the eye.
Spine pressed to cold red brick, heart pounding,
temples afire.
Nerves tingling, electric
eels swimming through his veins.
Starved for options, reduced to few, perhaps just two:
To curl, to draw his knees into his chest,
eyelids tight as the vices that brought him here.
Or defy the fight or flight or freeze,
and scrape at the settled dregs of a mind fettered and in turmoil and pain,
too long closed and locked and limited by the fallacies of the white or black.
To find a path, for a path must be,
through the anguish and the agony,
its steps shrouded to the calves in murky haze,
invisible pavers, hidden, but there the same.
To emerge the victor, made anew.
A worthy man, he's me and you.
Copyright © Nico Coar | Year Posted 2024
Locked in a room with no windows
I became a shadow
Invisible and unheeded
Having as duty, the slow and steady merging
Of myself with the dirty walls
As time went by,
I stopped feeling myself
And started thinking that I am naught
But part of the furniture
That stands in the room,
Filled with dust particles all over!
Once, I coughed and realised that I have voice
Which means that I can express myself
And this brought me to try to say something everyday
Just to remind myself that I am alive,
A living human, having in me, the sparkles of mystery
As time went by, my voice got louder
And soon I started shouting out to the silence of the room
That I was confined in, hoping and hoping for an answer
From anyone, even from my own echo
But the echo was never returned to me, however much
I kept vociferating!
Locked in our own vision, we try to receive echoes
From those who battle this world, like us
But the echoes will never return
As those from whom we are trying to receive them
Are merely mirrors, who allow us to see ourselves as we are
And mirrors don't echo back
Mirrors only swallow us in their murky ponds
If we dare dip our toes in!
The room allowed me to shelter myself from my reflection
Still, I yearned for an echo from its vacuum
But I was only met with the harshness of emptiness
As even if I refused to see my truth bared
I went through it as every human would!
Copyright © Anoucheka Gangabissoon | Year Posted 2025