Outside the Windy City
Outside the Windy City
lives the Lady Finnegan -
Carol dearly loves the Lord Jehovah
and is a part of His earthly plan.
Her heart has been pierced
by God's Holy Spirit;
for she placed her life before Him
and has chosen to submit.
Her adoration for the King
has burst forth with heart's joy,
from reading her great nephew's literature
within the borders of Illinois.
Now she's become God's messenger
via her gifts of Joe's Christian poetry -
For the fragrance of God's Love
envelopes her with scriptural potpourri.
Blessed to be a blessing,
her friendship has touched me -
For we have found common ground
between kinship and a love of poetry.
Dedicated to my Great Aunt Carol Finnegan,
the sister of my maternal Grandmother Marguerite Massa.
poem by Joseph James Breunig 3rd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Carol's Bright Smile
Carol with her sparkly eyes, always has a great big smile.
Happy to see me even when she's blue,
she is sincere person through and through.
Carol is supportive of my writing for she is a loving soul,
Carol compliments me to bring me up when I'm low.
Carol thought of me at Christmastime,
she is very giving and kind.
Carol is always busy and on the go,
she helps her family who loves her so.
Carol loves her grandchild who lives quite near,
she babysits her grandchild when she's here.
Carol has style and dresses quite slick,
she goes out dressed fashionably chick.
I always love how Carol does her hair,
either a ponytail, loose curls with a flair.
Carol's from Boston and soon will go back,
her bright sunshine is what the Dorchester will lack.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on February 5,2012
poem by Christina Sunrise
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Carol's My Friend
Carol with her sparkly eyes, always has a great big smile.
Happy to see me even when she's blue,
she is sincere person through and through.
Carol is supportive of my writing for she is a loving soul,
Carol compliments me to bring me up when I'm low.
Carol thought of me at Christmastime,
she is very giving and kind.
Carol is always busy and on the go,
she helps her family who loves her so.
Carol loves her grandchild who lives quite near,
she babysits her grandchild when she's here.
Carol has style and dresses quite slick,
she goes out dressed fashionably chick.
I always love how Carol does her hair,
either a ponytail, loose curls with a flair.
Carol's from Boston and soon will go back,
her bright sunshine is what the Dorchester will lack.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on February 5,2012
poem by Suzae Chevalier
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry The Beacon!
Beacon of literature is ever poetry only!
Greatness of literature lies in quality ideas;
Richness of language depends on poetry;
Worthiness of matter in poetry only is best!
Writing needs creative mind whatever thing is!
Novels, Short stories, Prose and Poetry are they
That enhance the richness of literature ever;
That too writing poetry makes one great sure!
Having chosen the form of poetry to write itself
Is not an easy matter as it needs skill and time
To write what one feels, thinks and conceives
In heart, mind and soul, otherwise no good at all!
Other forms of literature needs concentrated work
But poetry needs natural ability to express free all!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Remembrance of Grandma - Poem & Background
Now that people are becoming more aware of my poetic efforts, interests are being expressed regarding the background of my poetry - in addition, to my spiritual muse. In this installment, I share the background and poem 'In Remembrance of Grandma'.
I recognize that most of you reading this article will not know much about my maternal Grandmother, other than what you're able to glean from this page. However, there are universal lessons that need to be shared. This poem was originally written for her funeral.
For nearly forty years, I was blessed to have known my grandparents; blessed - because many people don't have the opportunity to know their family history personally from those who came before them. Within about one decade, mine were all gone - with my maternal grandmother being the last one to die. Of the four of them, I had spent the most time with her. My grandmother had moved to Portland, Maine; this came about as the result of two significant events in her life. First, her husband Al Massa died unexpectedly; second, her oldest daughter (and my mom) had gone through a divorce. So they decided to purchase a home jointly and move on with their lives. Also living with them was my aunt Tina, my mother's younger sister.
My grandmother was an intelligent woman; she was one of those people who completed the New York Times crossword puzzles - in ink and usually in under an hour. And she grew some of the most beautiful roses in her tiny backyard. It was wonderful to see the joy in her eyes when it came to her flowers. The problem was that she was heart-broken when Al passed away; for decades they would go dancing at night, just to hold one another more often. With him gone, she stopped living for herself. Less than a year from his retirement, her husband died on the picket line at work. Although I can only imagine her grief, it was difficult to see the affects of this tragedy slowly eat away at her soul. She rarely left her home, with the exception of going to Church, the grocery store or some of the neighbors' homes a few times during the month. She and Al were to go to Hawaii for a second honeymoon, but she could not bear to go there without him. In The Word, we are essentially reminded that 'people without vision perish' (and yes, I know that there are variations of interpretation of this concept) . Despite our ability to absorb pain, we must learn to move forward in life and not let the pain consume us.
For many years, she smoked cigarettes and was unwilling to give them up. She did so eventually; my mother moved out of their house, Tina got married; she and her husband lived with my grandma. Tina and husband Greg started their own family, raising three boys - thus giving her the incentive to quit. As most everyone knows, smoking increases one's risk of having cancer. My family were under the impression that she had managed to escape the misery of that disease. Less than two weeks from her death was when most of the family learned that she had contracted cancer and emphysema.
Although I understand and appreciate the need for privacy, it was selfish of my grandmother not to share the condition of her health. Her justification for not telling anyone, was that she had decided not to go through with the cancer treatment. By not telling us, she figured that no one would be given the opportunity to dissuade her from her decision. After all, it was her decision (and rightfully so) . Before she died, Tina started quickly gathering information about cancer - to better learn about what to expect regarding the few remaining days of her mother's life. One cancer brochure shocked her; as a result of reading the material, she was now having to deal with guilt. This particular pamphlet laid out symptoms and patterns of human behavior of those suffering from this fatal disease - stuff that Tina had observed, but never realized the meaning of until it was too late. So in effect, my grandmother caused her family more pain by not sharing. In addition, not everyone who cared about her, had enough time to say good-bye (while she was alive) .
Although I had time to compose this brief poem in her honor, I did not have enough time to process my grandmother's death fully (prior to the service) . I was supposed to read the following poem and share a few words. To my surprise, I was choked up with immense grief, which kept me from delivering my eulogy; my wife kindly stepped in and presented the poem. One of my brothers was extremely upset for my inability to talk on behalf of my grandmother; so he spoke on my family's behalf. It's one of my few regrets in life; however, she was the only grandparent of mine that got to read my poetry manuscript. Less than two months before her death, she had taken time read my poetry and was pleasantly pleased with my efforts. During her appraisal of my work was the first time I learned that she wrote poetry - as of today, I've never gotten to read a line of poetry that she wrote. So it breaks my heart not to know what she composed, as well as not being able to share any more of my writing with her. And so here is my tribute for her...
In Remembrance of Grandma
A manicured garden
of colored, cultured roses
now goes untended.
For Marguerite has been freed
of all mortal constraint;
left behind
is a silver trowel
and dancing shoes,
as her spirit flies
to the Hawaiian shore
for pirouetting barefoot
on the seashell sand.
Goodbye Grandma Massa; I miss you already.
(18 June 2006)
poem by Joseph James Breunig 3rd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Two Loves
My passion is shared by my poetry and by you
And for each, it's growing ever stronger
That I'm in love with you both is undeniably true
And I'll love you forever, and even longer
With my poetry you'll never have to compete
Or ever have a reason to be jealous
My poetry is inspired by your love so sweet
But sometimes I get a bit overzealous
You and I share a love as a woman and a man
Satisfying each other's deepest desires
You make me feel like poetry never can
Our love ignites passion's fires
But the way I feel when a poem's taking shape
Is like nothing I've ever felt before
My creativity at last, has found an escape
Cascading over me like waves on the shore
Of my two loves, you are first in my heart
and I promise you always will be
Because of you, my poetry got it's start
Now you both are the best part of me
poem by Harry J. Couchon Jr
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry On The Chin
You gouged my mind's eye,
Tantalised all inner thought,
Shocked from unknown angles;
Sold me, told me cold,
Unfolded, moulded;
Shouldered any harbouring
Of empty morals.
You spun me round; undressed -
Pestered me with background riddle -
Piffle came to gleaning meaning.
And you stripped out prejudice - for none
Must exist in poetry,
Lest you close up an open mind
And f**k up as reader;
Lest your heart is not a bleeder -
It has to be - let it flush out
Upon your sleeve.
You lay apart my thinking brain
And let in the literary pickings of a
Great poetic phallus.
Yes, poetry can be callous.
Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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18 Definitions Of Poetry
1) Poetry is what is Beautiful in words –
2) Poetry is the deepest feeling words can tell
3) Poetry is the soul of each one of us
4) Poetry is the morning light after the longest night
5) Poetry is a dream of dreams in a world that needs dreams to be
beautiful
6) Poetry is the Search for God and the Love of God in all holy writing
7) Poetry is Reality itself when it is doing what it should
8) Poetry is you and me and all of us when we are kind to each other
9) Poetry is more than we can say or know- deeper than the deepest
silence and quieter also
10) Poetry is the place we go to in ourselves when we need to cry out loud
11) Poetry is Love words of love and the first spring of the young lovers first
song
12) Poetry is all we are when our minds are right and strong
13) Poetry is what saves us from all the other words
14) Poetry is what ceases to exist when Cruelty comes
15) Poetry is Love and Blessing and Kindness again
16) Poetry cuts through the icy sea within and sends chills down the spine
17) Poetry is what is recollected in tranquility but also tried and tossed in
tempest on the most difficult seas
18) Poetry is open to more than what it has been It is what others have not yet created and will so long as we are human and in search of the Sublime
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There Is Another Poetry
THERE IS ANOTHER POETRY
There is another Poetry-
A poetry of inspiration
A poetry of help
A poetry of encouragement
A poetry of courage and heart
A poetry of love of life
Which teaches greater love of life.
There is another poetry
A poetry I would write
But the poetry I largely live in
Is complaint and question and fear and doubt
And trouble and sadness-
Oh why can’t I give some greater goodness to others
Than I am myself in my soul?
poem by Shalom Freedman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is in the beginning of new life,
Poetry is in the tears of a child,
Poetry is in the warmth of mother's kiss,
Poetry is in the child's bliss,
Poetry is in the hug of a father,
Poetry is in the love of a dear,
Poetry is in the happiness of affection,
Poetry is in the pain of separation,
Poetry is in someone's loss,
Poetry is in missing someone very close.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is in the first rain,
Poetry is in the cultivation of first grain,
Poetry is in the first light of dawn,
Poetry is in the drops of dew o the grass of lawn,
Poetry is in the blowing of cool wind,
Poetry is in the beauty of green,
Poetry is in the twinkling star,
Poetry is in the aroma of a flower,
Poetry is in thunder and lightning,
Poetry is in the heat scorching.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poetry is something more sweeter than sweet,
Poetry is something more closer to heart beat,
Poetry is something more than the most beautiful creation,
Poetry is something more than the depth of an ocean,
Poetry is something more higher than the blue,
Poetry is something more true,
Poetry is something more enjoyable than wine,
Poetry is something more shiner than sunshine,
Poetry is something more pure than air,
Poetry is something which is present everywhere.
Poetry...Poetry...
Poet ry is not just rhyme,
Poetry is but the voice Divine,
Poetry is not just Poetry,
Poetry frames History,
After so many lines,
Poetry still remains undefined.
Poetry...Poetry...
poem by Akash Agrawal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With All Of My Heart
Zzzz Oooo Eeee Ggggg Iiii Rrrr Llll, Zoe Girl, Zoe Girl, Life, Life, Not just life, eternal life
You know I can't explain this feeling
It's almost like I'm dreaming this reality
You know You give me such a freedom
I finally found the way home
I'm right where I belong
Ever since the day I prayed
You into my heart I placed
Every bit of me into Your hands
Lord, I'm here to stay
With all of my heart
I'm gonna love You
With all of my soul
I'll put all my trust in You
With all of my strength
I'm standing beside You
With all of my everything
I will worship You, my king
With all of my heart
With all of my heart
Oh, Lord, I can't define You
Who am I to know You the way I do?
From now until forever
I promise I will never, never let You go
Lord, I want to be the one
After all is said and done
From now til eternity
I'm yours faithfully
With all of my heart
I'm gonna love You
With all of my soul
I'll put all my trust in You
With all of my strength
I'm standing beside You
With all of my everything
I will worship You, my king
With all of my heart
With all of my heart
Every night when I close my eyes
I am amazed at how You've blessed my life in every way
I'm mystified by Your great love
Nothing compares to having You near
Every day I'll love You more than the day before
With all of my heart
I'm gonna love You
With all of my soul
I'll put all my trust in You
With all of my strength
I'm standing beside You
With all of my everything
I will worship You, my king
With all of my heart
I'm gonna love You
W
song performed by by ZoeGirl
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All Our Needs
Our need is more than we know, to live this life and to grow,
As we live our lives for God, while living on this earthly sod.
The need we have is for Him, to guide believers from within,
By the Spirit of Jesus Christ, to guide us through all our life.
In times both good and bad, whether a heart’s joyful or sad,
We need The Lord in all we do, so in all He sees us through.
For it is God who’s always there, to reach anytime in prayer,
To lift to Him care or praise, while He guides all of our days.
Yet, if we’re not conscious of, God’s presence and His love,
God reaches down, to His own, from His Everlasting Throne.
But He wants us to be aware, when laden with a load of care,
That He has unlimited Grace, for every trial that we may face.
The need that man has is great, a need many don’t anticipate,
The need for God, found in all, hearts on earth, big and small.
In life men appear in control, but what about the eternal soul?
It’s that inner part of man, which needs to lean on God’s plan.
This is a need that all must see; one that reaches into eternity,
Man’s salvation from The Lord, is the need to not go ignored.
And as this need is met in Him, the Spirit comes to live within,
To help us with daily needs, as to Heaven our souls He leads.
(Copyright ©04/2008)
Poetry Is
poetry is what the soul wants
poetry is infinite sound that taunts
poetry is strength of ones spirit
poetry is the powerful truth within it
poetry is love and hate
poetry is what makes you stop wait and appreciate
poetry is something you should die for
poetry is what makes you dropp to the floor
poetry is put up randomly
poetry is, well, simply poetry
poem by Daniel Romero
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Poem about Poetry - Poetry Is Not
poetry is not the rain
poetry is how the rain
beats down on your path
poetry is not in the man
poetry is how you open
his heart with your smile
poetry is not in the flowers
poetry is how you can use them
to help your friends bloom
yesterday, today, tomorrow
poetry is not the sea
poetry is how you spread your
laughter over its surging water
and count your blessing with
every shell you pick up
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ballad Of Carol Lynn
Loving you has gotten weird
You'll see the sun hanging low down by your window
And all the rain left in the world
Won't bring you home again
Oh, Carol Lynn
And trusting you has gotten strange
You'll close the door when the cold has gotten in
And all the love left in the world
Won't keep you warm again
Oh, Carol Lynn
When you need a friend to be there for you
I won't be one who will help you out
And when you need someone who can let you in
You can count me out
Oh, Carol Lynn
When your life has worn you out
You'll have the past left for you to think about
And all the money in the world
Can't take you back again
Oh, Carol Lynn
Oh, Carol Lynn
song performed by by Whiskeytown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Battle Within
Being nibbled on by The Spirit, through God’s Word, as you hear it,
Chipping away at the great divide, which has been built deep inside.
Removing the veil upon the heart, which hinders Truth Christ departs,
The only truth that sets men free, from the lies that bind you and me.
The Lord will not force your hand, to make you come to understand,
Those deeper truths in His Word, from the preaching you have heard.
The Lord shall use The Holy Spirit to, unveil your heart inside of you,
The heart that’s hardened by a life, that opposes God’s Will in Christ.
This opposition creates a war inside, a battle which cannot be denied,
A battle of one’s will and mind, where God’s Truth becomes maligned,
As you are stalked by the enemy, to blind your eyes so you can’t see,
The many pages of Scriptural proof, of God’s liberating Eternal Truth.
Now captive to Satan’s wicked plan, deceiving the heart of every man,
He’s at work to deceive man’s heart, so from the Truth they will depart.
But The Holy Spirit works patiently, helping your heart and mind to see,
That only God’s Truth sets you free, from Satan’s evil, twisted travesty.
We have not the spirit of this world, when his deception at us is hurled,
Instead we have the Spirit of Jesus Christ, if indeed, we have New Life.
As Believers we must turn from sin, while filling our heart with only Him,
Paying no mind to Satan’s reproof, as Christ leads us with God’s Truth.
A Change Of Time!
A change of time changes everything in life!
Glorious poetry turned into prose for use earlier;
Stories, novels and articles ruled prominent;
With the coming of computer poetry resurrected!
Now everybody enjoys indulging in poetry for fun;
Articles, stories and novels are superseded by poetry!
Many poetry websites entertain new poets daily;
Many enjoy poetry reading and writing at anytime!
Poetry has become cheap product for all to use;
Nobody thought that such a thing could happen!
Nobody buys poetry books but novels and magazines;
Is poetry a use and throw material only in market now?
The things that cannot be expressed in stories, novels
Are done in poetry to satisfy heart, thought and spirit!
poem by Ramesh T A
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'd Dance
I’d dance in the morning
When the world has begun
I’d dance in the moonlight
For the glory of His Son
I’d dance for Heaven, dearly on earth
Sweet of frankincense, and gifts, from birth
I’d dance for Father, Son, and even the Holy Ghost
I would love to dance for he who loves me most
I dance for the God's fishermen
Of the Gospel clan and Redemption's plan
As I’m sure, they’d all come with along me
We'd dance, together, on humanity's great sea
I’d dance on Sabbath, the Religionist to distain
I’d cure all the wounded, blind, and also the lame
I tell you: I dance in the Cross, for Victory so bright
For what's central to beauty and void envy's flight
If given a chance~ I’d even dance on the devil’s grave
For oh, I do love dancing for my Lord God and KING
I'm awesomely restored; how can I not but dance and sing
poem by ArmourQuill Hunter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Dont Write Poetry!
i dont write poetry...
i sweat poetry, i drink poetry,
i breathe poetry, i make love to poetry,
i fight poetry, i eat poetry,
i bleed poetry, i crap poetry...
too often i betray poetry,
sometimes i dropp poetry.
once i tripped over poetry,
got angry and kicked poetry.
i rocked poetry on a sleepless night,
i buried poetry on the hill...
i lived poetry, for i am poetry...
no, i dont write poetry,
but poetry writes me!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An act of poetry
Ruin is what we need –
Despair is what we feed
Upon in poetry
A shock resets the nerves –
Helps remould the curves
Of written art
Catharsis helps portray –
Acting out a play
On expurgation
Tears or hidden fears
Release the bottled years
To ink a page:
The pen be our salvation.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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De Amore
Shall one be sorrowful because of love,
Which hath no earthly crown,
Which lives and dies, unknown?
Because no words of his shall ever move
Her maiden heart to own
Him lord and destined master of her own:
Is Love so weak a thing as this,
Who can not lie awake,
Solely for his own sake,
For lack of the dear hands to hold, the lips to kiss,
A mere heart-ache?
Nay, though love's victories be great and sweet,
Nor vain and foolish toys,
His crowned, earthly joys,
Is there no comfort then in love's defeat?
Because he shall defer,
For some short span of years all part in her,
Submitting to forego
The certain peace which happier lovers know;
Because he shall be utterly disowned,
Nor length of service bring
Her least awakening:
Foiled, frustrate and alone, misunderstood, discrowned,
Is Love less King?
Grows not the world to him a fairer place,
How far soever his days
Pass from his lady's ways,
From mere encounter with her golden face?
Though all his sighing be vain,
Shall he be heavy-hearted and complain?
Is she not still a star,
Deeply to be desired, worshipped afar,
A beacon-light to aid
From bitter-sweet delights, Love's masquerade?
Though he lose many things,
Though much he miss:
The heart upon his heart, the hand that clings,
The memorable first kiss;
Love that is love at all,
Needs not an earthly coronal;
Love is himself his own exceeding great reward,
A mighty lord!
Lord over life and all the ways of breath,
Mighty and strong to save
From the devouring grave;
Yea, whose dominion doth out-tyrant death,
Thou who art life and death in one,
The night, the sun;
Who art, when all things seem:
Foiled, frustrate and forlorn, rejected of to-day
Go with me all my way,
And let me not blaspheme.
poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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