My Blood, My Poem
So many works of my life
I dodge to write these verses
So much time I spend behind
Every couplet, every epithet sucks
A little dropp of my blood
Every letter sheds sweet from my ducks
Every line steals my sweet sleep
Every phrase is my dream and hope
I breathe in every word
Every punctuation dips in deep emotions
If it does not work and effects the heart
For whom these are composed
The masculinity of this poet is crushed
The stone heart of mine cries through eyes
Tears roll down, my blood is worthless! !
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Related quotes
Sweet Dreams
(graham russell)
This is the time when you need a friend
You just need someone near
Im not looking forward to the night I will spend
Thinking of you when youre not here
How many times will I think about the things
Id like to do
Always denied the right to live my life the way I want
I want to share it with you
(chorus)
Close your eyes I want to ride the skies
In my sweet dreams
Close your eyes I want to see you tonight
In my sweet dreams
Ill think of your kiss as the days roll by
And Ill write the words you love
And what I cant say in a letter
Will just have to wait till I get home
Ooh theres not much time to tell you half the things I should
Only that Im so glad I fell in love with you
And Id do it again if I could
(chorus)
Close your eyes I want to ride the skies
In my sweet dreams
Close your eyes I want to see you tonight
In my sweet dreams
(repeat chorus)
Sleep like a child resting deep
You dont know what you give me I keep
For these moments alone
(chorus)
Close your eyes I want to ride the skies
In my sweet dreams
Close your eyes I want to see you tonight
In my sweet dreams
song performed by by Air Supply
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Poet To Be
A poet I claim not to be,
For words are never there.
In all the years I've tried to write,
I have no words to share.
I sit and think but nothing comes,
No inspiration here.
I want to write of anything,
But still no words I fear.
I read the works of other poets,
I wish I were like them.
How do they write such beautiful lines,
A poet, I'm not him.
I try to write from the heart,
From deep within my soul.
I try to write of the love I have,
But cannot reach my goal.
But why I ask, why can't I write,
Of love so pure and true.
Why can't I write about her eyes,
A mix of green and blue.
I want to write about her smile,
It brightens up my day.
I try to think of anything,
But words I cannot say.
I wish I knew how to write,
A poem with such bliss.
I wish I knew how to describe,
Her soft but tender kiss.
I cannot even begin to write,
How she holds me tight.
How her arms around me,
Makes everything just right.
A poet does not have to think,
The words flow right out.
When I sit and try to write,
I want to scream and shout.
I mean come on, how hard can it be,
To write about her hair.
Such long beautiful natural blonde,
That flows in the air.
I try to write about her laugh,
The words will not fly.
Time passes and finally,
I say it's soft and high.
It's been an hour and a half,
I'm here on verse twelve.
I had to go to Rhymezone,
To find out the rhyme is shelve.
A poet does not do that,
Go online to find a rhyme.
A poet has it in his head,
And can write at any time.
But a poet I am not,
For I cannot write of love.
How the girl I am with,
Is an angel from up above.
How I love her with all my heart,
And want to spend my life with her.
How her love for me is more,
Than I can ever be for sure.
As I draw near the end,
My mind is not so numb.
I realize I've just written of love,
A poet I have become.
poem by Adam McKim
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Slumber Songs
I
Sleep, little eyes
That brim with childish tears amid thy play,
Be comforted! No grief of night can weigh
Against the joys that throng thy coming day.
Sleep, little heart!
There is no place in Slumberland for tears:
Life soon enough will bring its chilling fears
And sorrows that will dim the after years.
Sleep, little heart!
II
Ah, little eyes
Dead blossoms of a springtime long ago,
That life's storm crushed and left to lie below
The benediction of the falling snow!
Sleep, little heart
That ceased so long ago its frantic beat!
The years that come and go with silent feet
Have naught to tell save this -- that rest is sweet.
Dear little heart.
poem by John McCrae
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Dream tryst
The breaths of kissing night and day
Were mingled in the eastern Heaven,
Throbbing with unheard melody,
Shook Lyra all its star-cloud seven.
When dusk shrank cold, and light trod shy,
And dawn's grey eyes were troubled grey;
And souls went palely up to the sky,
And mine to Lucidè,
There was no change in her sweet eyes
Since last I saw those sweet eyes shine;
There was no change in her deep heart
Since last that deep heart knocked at mine.
Her eyes were clear, her eyes were Hope's,
Wherein did ever come and go;
The sparkle of the fountain drops
From her sweet soul below.
The chambers in the house of dream
Are fed with so divine an air,
That Time's hoar wings grow young therein,
And they who walk there are most fair.
I joyed for me, I joyed for her,
Who with the Past meet girt about:
Where her last kiss still warms the air,
Nor can her eyes go out.
poem by Francis Thompson
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Sweet Dreams
Sweet Dreams
Date: August 11,2012
Do not suffer as I sleep
When ‘cross my lips, a stillness creeps
As I will pass this way again
I have not died, I'm here my friend
Whispers of a passing breeze
Will bring to life sweet memories
And butterflies that softly land
Will be as I, to kiss your hand
Sweet as berries from the vine
You'll recall these lips of mine
I have not gone away in death
I did not breathe my final breath
Deep in your heart I shall remain
A joyful spark, an endless flame
So do not grieve when I have gone
I would not leave your heart alone
Spare the tears and sad goodbyes
As, I'll be here, when you close your eyes
************************************* ********
Copyright © 2012 Leria Hawkins, All Rights Reserved
poem by Leria Hawkins
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One Drop of Christ's Blood Shed…
One dropp of blood
of Jesus Christ, shed
Frees millions of sinners
Of their life-time sins!
One dropp of blood
Of Savior Christ, priceless
Absolves the punishments
Of the worst repentant sinners!
One dropp of blood
Of Messiah Christ
Opens the gates of heaven
For souls which yearn for God.
One dropp of blood
Of the slain Lamb of God
Annuls eternal damnation
Of all who repent and plead!
One dropp of blood
Of the Redeemer Christ
Can save mankind
From the fire of Hell!
Such is the immense power
Of the blood of the Son of God,
Who suffered and died upon the cross
for mankind's sake!
The sacred blood of Christ
Can sanctify all souls,
Who are truly sorry from heart,
From time immemorial!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 22-06-12
poem by John Celes
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Dedication To His Love
SWEETEST, in desperate hours
Of clouds and lightning and rain,
You came like a vision of flowers
And summer and song once again:
You came, and I could not receive you,
Seared in my flesh, in my sight.
I heedlessly turned back to leave you;
We passed on into the night.
(Heart, soul and all, sweet, never to sever, Love me for ever!)
Dearest, in hours of twilight,
Terrible, silent and lone,
When the light, long sought for as my light
And found, for ever seemed gone —
When the hope of the love-dream of boyhood
Passed sad with unknowing rebuff,
With your passionate patience and joyhood
You came, O my Priestess of Love!
(Heart, soul and all, dear, never to sever, Love me for ever!)
With your lips to mine deathly-reposing,
You kissed back the blood and the sighs:
You lit up my tired eyes unclosing
With the light of your beautiful eyes.
You held me close-pressed to your bosom,
Your heart to my heart, beating strong,
In mine eyes put your life like a blossom,
Put my love in your lips like a song!
(Heart, soul and all, sweet, never to sever,
Love me for ever!)
Dearest, of my heart-blood's Evangel
I hail you Queen, and of me:
Sweetest, I revere you Archangel
Of the better time that shall be.
So to these Songs, for my love's sake,
As Priestess of Love must you stand,
And, for the great Truth above's sake,
God's seraph with his sword in your hand!
(Heart, soul and all, dear, never to sever,
Love me for ever!)
poem by Francis William Lauderdale Adams
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Crying Heart
I hear my heart crying out for you.
I do nothing to stop the pain.
My heart cries more and more
Each day passes.
I still love you.
Do I ignore my suffering?
When I don't think of it.
Do I miss you?
Indeed I do.
Do I think of you often?
Yes, you stole my heart and there is nothing I can do, but sit here and write in my book and watch my tears dropp from my eyes onto the page as I write.
poem by Veronica Nieves
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My Sweet Valentine Acrostic
M y lady Valentine is my loved one
in my heart she marked as only one.
letting the time consumes our youth
in the end my love still holds the oath.
zest fills up the moments that we care
as sweet Valentine always there to share.
Part of my heart and soul is my Valentine
i can not thrive this life if she gets off line.
zenith where my dream for my sweet Valentine
a love we both cherish and savor for all time.
real are the laughter my loved one has shown
real as the tears I wiped dry which flood her eyes;
oh sweet Valentine how lucky I am to possessed you.
Bright are my hopes for my lady Valentine
reaching for the stars she shall be forever mine.
a promise to love her amidst all life's turmoil
to protect, care for her welfare and not spoil.
oh sweet Valentine how happy I am to love you.
poem by Marvin Brato Sr
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Above From The Deep
Above from the deep
Taller than the sky wall
We shall pluck the sun
Embracing all shines in our arm
Bring it back into the ground
Brightening dark deep down
A Light for our dreams to grow
Above from the deep
Let the shine in their eyes staring
Upon me holding something
In my hand without a thing
Because only my eyes knowing
The existence of what i am holding
The invisible dream that i dream
Own my heart as whole
Forever it will be placed in my hand
Coated with my every strength
With all trust i lay in this palm
For invisible dream to survive
Just like a farmer without a land
Only in my heart for seeds to grow
Waiting for wake up from long sleep
In a while we witnessing the flowing wind
Moving with the time, roll the clock wheels
Then we watching days changing to years
Observing the hopeless grass grow taller
The shine in their eyes intriguing
Of my invisible seed surfaced by the dust
Layers of ashes bury it deeper from above
In my hand, i still holding, i still believing
The strength and trust i keep holding
For a small wish one day will growing
Above from the deep
Fertilizing with trial and error
Usual watering without surrender
Above from the deep
Raising hand from below
The green hopes finally crawling out
In ambient of different calling to wake up
Above from the deep
The sun still waiting for this new born
Touch them up to reach higher as they can go
Higher and taller above
Above from this deep
I just like a farmer without a land
But seeding dreams without discriminating
Of which seeds I should choose and growing
To pick only the best one to grow, No oh No
As my heart says grow all, their potential we don't hold
So i will grow all without discriminating
Even I am only a farmer without a land
One sweet day i smell something sweet
From a garden of my soul
The growing plant i seed once
with tears and hardness i witnessed
Harvest from sweet sacrifice
Turn for joy and happiness
For reality now in same line
Side by side walk with me
Above from this deep
Sweat and tears dropp to my feet
I smell the existence of my ripen dream fruit
Yet if i grow all dreams i shall have many
Of diverse tastes and colorful flowers
So i told the seed and land, my heart of no land farmer
Believe your self to go above, get brighter
Even you cant, don't go deeper, it's darker
So take care of what you dream
Just matter of time to tell you when
For one day it will go above
Higher, reaching from this deep
Above from this deep
: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : About this poem: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :
This is a poem that i write for one of my friend here, that finally
found the strength after many times feel down for uncertainty time
I'm so proud to see how great smile can bounce back to that innocent heart.I know we dream many things in our life, sometimes we can reach sometimes we cant but never abandon what we have start, seed them with try...maybe for others our dream is a small but in our eyes that is what we wanted for, so chase what you want to do...we may not have it now, seed takes years to grow as a strong tree, some even to sprout takes years to get favorable condition....I never agree
for whom said, pick the best seed or seedling...sometimes the weaker one could be stronger and better, it changes through time, like our life we become better..we learn to survive, so give any chance to anyone and dream to grow and proves as what they really are...and for a dream we dream we will enjoy a fruit imagine if we dream of different, we may have many types of fruits/flower just if we seed and care them....but dream without try and care it is hopeless...
It's a dream in a dream...For my friend who knows that this is for you, you have fallen many times, cry deeply and now i am glad you find a shineSo go my dear friend, for everyone Go above from the deep...you will smile, For all..LOve_Unwritten Soul
poem by Unwritten Soul
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Taste of Blood
The taste of blood,
So sweet and delicous.
I can't get enough,
Of it.
Freshly caught,
Fresh meat,
Blood so pure.
Dense and tasty,
I can't resist,
To drink it.
One dropp on my tongue,
And I'm stuck,
And I get more.
So sweet and great,
Blood is what,
I live on now...
poem by Dragon Crenshaw
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dad and Son
A dad, a son,
One life, one love,
A road, all alone,
One last strife, from above.
Dad's ticket has been bought,
Dad's heart has been shot.
Unfair, son cries,
Dad dries.
Shaky hands rub son's face,
With embrace,
Dad whispers words,
In son's ear.
Another tear of the son falls,
On dad's palm vanishing with rainfalls.
Can not breathe easy,
Blood flows from dad's body.
Dad smiles and looks his son,
As his hand falls on the ground.
Eyes stay glassy and empty,
A tear dropp stays still on dad's eyelash.
Tears in son's eyes,
Dad slowly dies,
In weak son's hands.
By the road purple lilies smile,
Red roses seem to die.
Son takes a sweet lilie
Lies it in his father's hand,
And whispers slowly;
'I know, I know, me too dad'.
Last dad's words;
Son, I am sorry,
I never said,
But I......
poem by JeanFrancois Denis
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Til' The Last Drop
My pen has only a little ink before it is dry, but my heart still has many more words to say. So I will write until my heart has no more words to say or ’til the last drop.
My dear sweet love;
It has been several years since my eyes have had the pleasure of seeing your beautiful face, or my arms the pleasure of feeling your warm embrace.
But I’d like you to know ‘til the last tear dropp falls
from my eyes, in my heart your love will lie.
‘Til the last dropp of love leaves my heart, you and I will never part.
‘Til the last dropp of compassion is drained from my soul, in my arms you I will forever hold.
It has been several years since you been out my life, and even through you’re in heaven you’re still my wife.
Well, my love the words are starting to fade, but not because my heart has no more to say, but my pen is going dry.
But before the last dropp I’d like you to know I will love you ‘til the day I die.
It Is Crazy
i kiss your lips as though they are all mine
and you kiss mine as though i am yours
our tongues search for the perfect union
our teeth grind themselves on the thought
that this is all sin, but then the kiss is too sweet
like syrup and we keep on kissing, till our gums bleed
and we taste blood inside our throats but then blood
tastes sweet and bitter like wine and we keep on drinking
for we think we are still as young as the night and we
never have in our minds death and regrets.
we burst. we explode like we were so full. we rested.
we go deep into sleep. we grapple for a new beginning.
love is the reason for this all. and we dream this love we have
is beyond sin, beyond waking, beyond all of us. beyond this
frailness of our humanity. this is divine and we still think of this
as a glimpse of God and heaven.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Why Do I Write
I write from my sadness
I write from the madness
I write because I have something to say
I write to pass the day
I write only from the heart
I write for sometimes I am not that smart
Whatever is in head just comes out on paper (in this case a word document) , and I go with the flow
Write to let my mind go
I follow my hand to where ever it takes me
I write all the things that I can see
I write when I am happy, but not as much
I write from my heart that you can touch
I write because I’d go insane
I am driven to write quell my pain
At times I feel alone so I write what I am feeling
I write for it is self-healing
Confident not so I write it all away
I write and write to pass the day
I write to comfort my soul that cries out in the night
I write for love is always out of sight
I write so I don't have to cry any more
I write for I have no one to adore
I write so someone somewhere will hear my plea
I write for someone is out there for me
I am lost and I the clown
I write to turn my frown upside down
I write to embrace the sadness I hide inside
I write with my heart opened wide
I write to silence the ghost
I write for I’ve been let down by the one I loved the most
I write through the stormy weather
I write for I am light as a feather
I am not a writer nor am I a poet
I write for the grief I do know it
I will write until I draw my last breath
I write because I'll die a lonely death
I have to write for strangers delight
I write because I have to write
I write for my own happiness
I write to relieve my stress
I write because I have no other choice
I write as if I was writing a letter
I write because I can’t do any better
I write because I am afraid not to
I write for this is what I do
I write for I give a damn
I write just because I am
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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0005 Letter to a Younger Poet
Thanks for your letter. Though
you’ve caught me at a rather awkward time –
I’m going into surgery tomorrow – a rather
risky op; so I’ll try to put all the answers that I’ve got
into this one letter;
I hope you'll understand...
and that helps me to make my first point to you:
write as if you, too, may not live
beyond tomorrow – write as if
it’s the last thing that you’ll ever write –
give it everything you’ve got,
hold nothing back;
or better still – write as if
the world will end for everyone tomorrow:
write so that in their last hours, too, this
will make them feel, will make them know
we’ve faced life fully, faced it so complete
that death is relatively unimportant now…
write as if it were only yesterday
that, in an air crash, all your family –
parents, wife or husband, partner, children, and best friend,
had lost their lives; write as if,
were you not to write,
your heart would break forever, or you would go mad...
write as if you’re writing somewhere
where there’s no such thing around, as ink;
you’ll have to use your own blood in the pen,
so use it carefully; so red, so living,
look at it… so beautiful, so precious,
and so solemn – use it carefully, don’t spill a drop…
write as if you’re borrowing every word
from the very centre of the universe, where suns and gods are made;
and need thus to account for every word
with your whole life, no less; know that every word
must be given back, cleaner, stronger, brighter
with your own power, than when you borrowed it;
write as if every poet that ever lived
is leaning over your shoulder, so that you
can feel their breath upon your neck as they say
‘Tell them all that we would tell,
but cannot now; tell them all of this’…
this, now, is how you must deeply be and speak;
write as if you are the only being on earth
who can tell them this; as if tomorrow, if tomorrow comes,
you shall visit them every one, at home,
and look them in the eye; write as if
you love them more than they will ever know;
write as if you were offering to live their lives with them;
write as if you were a force of nature in yourself:
as if whatever earthquake, hurricane or flood might do,
whatever law or love may greatly do,
whatever gods or men can speak, in fullest force,
this you may do, because the sound of poetry is such;
yes, write ‘as if’ – but know you really write ‘because’…
write as if – no, write because –
you know that only poetry can tell
all, that must be told, and must be known;
and as all hearts melt in the heat of your own love,
be in no doubt – and see that all are in no doubt too –
that life was never, never more serious,
never more glorious, than it is right now;
write all this.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You Set My Dreams To Music
(steve dorff / m. a. leikin)
Oh, Im loving what I see
Each time you smile at me
I love the look of what youre thinking
I know how it feels to fly
Im glowing like the sky thats on fire
As the sun is sinking
Oh, you set my dreams to music
As you spend the whole night making them come true
And in my whole life
I have never had a dream as sweet as you
No-one else I ever knew
Touch me quite like you
Or say as much
Without a word now
Love, Im hoping you can see a songs inside of me
That holds more love
Than any song youve heard, now
Oh, you set my dreams to music
As you spend the whole night making them come true
And in my whole life
I have never had a dream as sweet as you
I know how it feels to fly
Im glowing like the sky
Thats on fire
As the sun is sinking
Oh, you set my dreams to music
As you spend the whole night making them come true
And in my whole life
I have never had a dream as sweet as you
And in my whole life
I have never had a dream as sweet as you
Ah, ha, you set my dreams to music
Sweet, sweet, sweet music
Ah, ha, you set my dreams
Sweet, sweet, sweet music
You set my dreams to music
Yeah, oh yeah
Sweet, sweet music
song performed by by Dusty Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poet of the People
Cries out good people, listen to my voice
I would hsve you understand, my feelngs
for this land, my deep emotions for
nature's wonders. my melancholy nostalgia
for times gone by
good people of this land, stop a moment
listen to my sighs, and cries,
reveal to you in metaphor, majestic language
those deep down stirrings of the heart
I conjure up for you
lay before your mind and ears
the tragedy of my tears and fears,
paint the passing of the years
alas the poet does not know it
few so very few will pass the time
or spend a dime
poem by Shimon Weinroth
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Wild Honey
B. wilson
Mama Im tellin you as sure as Im standin here
Shes my girl and thats the way Im keepin it my mama dear
No good will it do you to stand there and frown at me
The girls got my heart and my loves comin down on me
Last time I met her since I got a taste of wild honey
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
You know shes got the sweetness of the honey bee
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Honey, (sweet, sweet, my honey bee) she got me all and stung me good, oh, yesiree
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Before he even stung bees buzzin around her hive
She singled me out, single handed took me alive
Im gonna take her home and spend my life
Eatin up the wild honey
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Oh mama shes sweeter (sweeter) and sweeter (sweeter) and sweeter, sweeter
Yaaaa, honey (sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
Let me tell you how she really got to my soul (sweet,sweet my honey)
It aint funny, (sweet, sweet, my honey bee) the way she made me want to sing a little rock and
Roll (sweet, sweet, my honey)
Theres nothing quite as good as the taste of wild honey
Break my back workin just to save me some money
I can spend my life with her eatin up her wild honey
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
Oh honey shes sweeter (sweeter) and sweeter (sweeter) and sweeter, sweeter
Now
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
(sweet, sweet, my honey bee)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Gimme some gimme some
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Gimme some gimme some(shes the one)
(sweet, sweet, my honey)
Gimme some wild honey
Gimme some gimme some..........
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Water Melon's Truth
Roving back through wild centuries
At rust and ripeness time
To land blood wet, martyrs fed,
A water melon still conceives
What alone bears peace-a sweet heart,
Summer's blood, timber scent-
Each slice for life time sweet,
Munch you as you would grapes or kisses.
Her only hope, wish for nothing on earth
Save eternal be her internal love's season,
Akin to sea plain where no autumn comes,
Though all things go, not one lasts.
poem by Yoonoos Peerbocus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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