A Haven for the Soul
A poem is something
We truly believe in.
It may be...
A struggle for the mind
For the heart a comfort
Tender, kind.
A haven for the soul
Embracing you, me, and all.
A token divine
Deeply cherished inside
Treasuring life with pride.
A path left open...
For others to pursue
And fathom the same journeys
All through.
November,2012
poem by Maria C. Costa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Is A Tough Game
As I scribble
On a small piece of my life's paper
I need courage and strength
To face the challenges
That test my spirit and mind
For my soul is burdened
And I feel drained out
And see myself wandering in wilderness
Passing through storms and fear
For life is a tough game
And I need to strengthen my faith
And have courage to open my mind's eye
To see divine plan unfolding in my life's path
With confidence and grace.........
I need peace and solace
To restore my balance
To lessen my heartache
And soul's burden
And enjoy the richness of small things in life
So I can heal quickly
And get the ability to move on
And enter the door of opportunity
Where God's tender love is present
To move on and on
For life is a tough game
And I need to strengthen my faith
And have courage to open my mind's eye
To see divine plan unfolding in my life's path
With confidence and grace.........
poem by Seema Chowdhury
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Owen's Street~
Today, basking in the bright sunshine of Texas
Upon this late November day, i feel complete
Embracing hearth and home ever so deeply
Right here, in my home on Owen's Street;
I know, i know, i could have lived in Dallas
Or even in Dorothy's Kansas or Jesting Oklahoma
But, i choose Coolidge as my home sweet home
Although sometimes, i do long to be in Roma;
But all kidding aside, my friends and foe
I do digress, way, way too much
For it is so true, as i, was once without a clue
On this bright November day, i am at last completely in touch;
By: Theodora Onken
November 24,2012
poem by Theodora Onken
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Prioritized And Lifted
I knew too well,
What my life had been like.
And that loneliness no one could touch.
I was deeply mentally scarred and troubled.
Yes...
I had been there.
I knew too well,
The masking of pretensions.
And the smothering of those emotions...
Afraid to let anyone see them show.
I have been there,
To numb them...
With alcohol or weed.
I have been there with a broken heart,
Many times to feel inside me bleeding.
I knew too well,
What my life had been like.
And that loneliness no one could touch.
I was deeply mentally scarred and troubled.
I had been there.
And going back,
I don't intend to do.
To feel again pain is not one of my pursuits.
Not back to back to scrape my knees!
Naw.
I don't think so.
Even with knee pads...
That's not happenin'!
Being at a place that drains to remain there?
For purposes to have others see one unchanged...
Is a selfishness that provides for them comfort!
And I know that kind of environment too well!
I had been there too.
Doing just that!
Providing others comfort at my expense.
Now I provide my own comfort.
Which to me makes much more sense...
In the maintaining of my peace of mind and happiness.
And those who proclaim I have changed...
As if one's purpose in life is to remain the same,
Are right!
I decided my life had to be prioritized and lifted,
To the top of my list and agenda!
And those who believe this is against God's wishes,
Have no connection to God!
I had been there myself...
To undo that kind of ignorance!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Lovely Sister
Is solace anywhere more comforting than in the arms of a sister
I read somewhere and I think to myself how fate was so kind
The experience I have had in the years of my life untold and unsaid
But I would like her to know she is always on my mind
A sister is a little bit of childhood that can never be lost
For I will lose all the luxuries and tranquility of life in time
I will not lose the warming comfort in your aura that reminds me
That I may lose the hope and dreams but my sister will always be mine
What's the good of news if you haven't a sister to share it?
And I have shared it all, the faults and mistakes that I have done
But one thing that remains unshared is the special bond between us
There would be no one except you in my heart, there would be none
How do people make it through life without a sister?
I wonder the pain left inside, I have pain on the inside too
But they are soothed by your presence and heavenly light
For I have to get out of darkness, there is no place but you
In the cookies of life, sisters are the chocolate chips
You have added sweetness in my life that is unending and blissful
We have shared some arguments, some fists, and some laughs
We have live the life but I haven't shared the love that is the glue
Through these words I hope the feel reaches you and you would know
I love you my sister but but I did not show.
Is solace anywhere more comforting than in the arms of a sister
I read somewhere and I think to myself how fate was so kind
The experience I have had in the years of my life untold and unsaid
But I would like her to know she is always on my mind
poem by Kumar Parashar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Life’s Gateway
Those who – find no beauty.
Within life’s pages. Have lost...
Gateway lies beckoning open...
a simple smile can be a welcome token.
Those who pursue – yet find no beauty
within life’s manifold pages. Have lost multiplicity.
All beauty within – breast filled soul.
Milk of life swells to inspire not to console.
In stewing vulnerable void – goodness flees
sadly encroaching emptiness blackness dwell.
Gateway soul-sucking vortex demon seed lies
onward wayward beckons despair embracing hell.
Those who failing - find no beauty.
Have lost sanctified plot – perceive not immortality.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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a sequel on charles bukowski's 'SO YOU WANT TO BE A WRITER?
he has his message clearly said: a writer is chosen
he does not have to move heaven and earth
to make a poem or write an essay
or finish a novel, for he is the
privileged soul
the chosen one
the prophet
the messiah
the secret prince
the hidden king
the divine incarnate
whatever
whoever
and words simply come to him like
a light from the sun
embracing him with so much inspiration
that he merely sits there by the throne of his porch
and simply listens to the dictated poem.
he says it is a burst inside your heart
an explosion inside your head
and you simply have to listen with your heart
and mind and soul
and there everything comes so easily
day by day and on and on and on
ad infinitum ad aeternum
there is no sweat
or hard work, there is no striving at all
to become the chosen one
for the inspiration
it comes even if uninvited
it perches on your chest like a bird and sings
it stays there until you die or it dies with you
there is no madness
or murderous intent or this lostness
they are not necessary
to be a writer one does not have to
stay for hours and write a piece and stare at the
screen of the computer and tire your eyes
with so much pressure
Is that so Charles? Did you not once believe
that Elvis Presley is nothing?
Did you not look for a job, or even try to find your lost self
for twenty years or so or even more?
There must be this irony.
And if that be so, I think i must believe you.
He does not bother at all, how can he be a poet?
Not you Charles, someone else.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Is My Heart Talking Now
(lewis anderson/jason sellers)
I know how much Ive hurt you
Trying to stand my ground
Raising my voice building defenses
While trying to tear yours down
I want you so much, I need you so near
Please dont give up til I make that clear
Cause
This is my heart talking now
No anger, no ego, no pride
This is my soul reaching out
With all that Im feeling inside
The words that Ive spoken
They left your heart broken
They came out wrong somehow
But this is my heart
This is my heart talking now
Maybe youre certain its over
Maybe I cant change your mind
Mabe me saying Im sorry
Will just seem a waste of time
But I couldnt bare if you walked away
Not knowing for sure that
I love you this way
This is my heart talking now
No anger, no ego, no pride
This is my soul reaching out
With all that Im feeling inside
The words that Ive spoken
They left your heart broken
They came out wrong somehow
But this is my heart
This is my heart talking now
This is my heart
This is my heart talking now
song performed by by Wade Hayes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Open Up To Me
Open up to me;
Open up, to be
Again exalted-
As before was halted,
Our consortium, divine.
Show me yet another sign
That you too believe
That true love doth ne'er leave.
Open up, to see
All that we may be-
Both together and alone;
Open up to me, to atone
For our mistakes of ere-
To enlighten a path, where
We may both truly shine.
Allow our duality to combine
Once again, into a blessed unity.
Open up to me, with impunity
For all you believe we lost:
Our heart's lament, the cost
Of others' views, nescient-
Sans care for effect, prescient.
Open up, so that we
Can again be, what we
Have always been for each-
Do this for 'us', I do beseech!
-Maurice Harris,3 August 2012
poem by Maurice Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Haven't Given Up, Life
i haven't
given up,
life
even though u
made me,
my mother's
bastard,
your
bitch, life
i haven't
given up
you tore open
my skin,
exposing
moist meat,
raw nerves
and bare bones
i haven't
given up,
life
savoring the
dry milky-crust
of hunger
around
my mouth
i haven't
given up,
life
give it to me,
life.
Your obstacle's
have
shredded
weaker men
i haven't given up
I don't quit
maybe,
one day,
it will be you,
life,
that will
give up
realize
my resolve,
my stamina,
my struggle
and mostly…
my love of
the pain
Death
is the
only way
you will
defeat
me, life
But then again,
Death
is always
the
victor
by,
Tim Labbe`
In The Tiredness Of Life
The survival stage of being,
Living day by day travel in,
Travel out in division of life.
Fatigue, weary, pain,
Inside whole being;
Struggle, adversity, experiences,
Trouble, are great suffering.
The eyes feel every drops of pain,
The heart and mind combine with
Breath fade away,
To carry the cross by the way
Experience in any kind event journey,
What it is all about inside life?
all things made by choice, permission
Of God to happen, to polish the wholeness
Of being, to understand the deepest
Important of life existence,
To know the duties of life in the
lives of one individual.
The pain struggle is the source
Of a beautiful life, we cannot
experience God glory without adversity,
Though its hurting deep down inside
Outside being.
God rule, reveal his power;
Receive him in heart in the annoying soul.
In the tiredness of life, revival;
We see rainbow glistering all over,
holding God hands to the perfect
Place of peace.
The prosperity of being,
The reality of life destination.
poem by Jocelyn Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Strange Kind Of Love
I once thought I had the love of God in my heart;
a feeling of oneness in which everyone is a part.
But as time went by and the days passed
that feeling of oneness did not really last.
I would search inside my heart to try and find
the love of God I thought had been left behind.
But as I looked eagerly there like a bloodhound
what I seemed to come across was less profound.
Then in the darkness of my mind I began to see a light;
It was coming and going, unsteady, to my inner sight.
The longer that I looked at it in wonder each day,
it seemed to speak to me without any words to say.
I would often marvel in awe how this could be
a spark of faith and hope from deep inside me.
So each day I would praise God in my heart with love
dedicating all action, words and thought to Him above.
The Love of God returned it seemed in some way
as a feeling of oneness swelled in my heart to play.
Life seemed sweet, almost as if too good to be true
and many things that were old appeared to be new.
I began also to know things which before went over my head
and to fathom the mysteries of what in books had been read.
It was in daily life experiences though that the truth shined through
as my mind was refined to witness what the Others taught and knew.
I would grasp and revel in subtle things which were lofty and divine
and then go about each day as if I was drunk on some kind of wine.
Everything all around seemed to be holy and possessed a hidden light,
encompassing all creatures and objects, that was revealed to my sight.
poem by George Krokos
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Poem: Deep Within Me
Long ago my Lord, I desired…
to share myself with You completely.
Under Your everlasting covenant,
You etched Your message of Love
upon my open and tender heart.
Now I radiate with joy and knowledge
from having Your Principles imprinted
on my life and mind's thinking.
As I'm steadfast on Your firm foundation,
continue to enhance our relationship.
Cleanse me from the impurities that stain,
as You have previously promised.
Show me how to find and seek…
the righteousness of Your Kingdom
for myself and others.
From embracing the ideal of dying to self,
Your spiritual seed of faith
exploded abundantly inside my spirit,
since it was planted… deep within me!
Author Notes:
Loosely based on:
Psa 51: 17; John 12: 24-25; 2 Cor 4: 10-12;
Gal 2: 20,5: 24; Col 2: 11-13; 2 Tim 2: 11;
Eze 36: 26-27
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http: //www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2012, All rights reserved.
poem by Joseph James Breunig 3rd
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The Magic That Surrounds You
The magic hats around you
The magic that surrounds you
Is the kind of magic
Youre the very heart of
Its the magic in the trees
The magic on a breeze
Its the magic of the world
Which youre a part of.
Open your eyes boy
Open your heart and soul
Let the world embrace you
And youre on your way
Open your eyes boy
Open your mind and body
The world is filled with magic everyday
The magic thats around you
The magic that surrounds you
Is a magic that is yours
If you believe it
Its the magic in the air
The magic everywhere
If youre open to its power
Youll receive it
Look at your life boy
Look at that road ahead
Starting from this moment
You must find your way
Look at your mind boy
Every path leads to adventure
Life is what you make it everyday
Everyday
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The random poem I jus made up
This poem I just made up
is a happy poem,
filled with excitement and interest.
It is a true piece of art
that should be cherished throughout life.
This poem I just made up
is a sad poem,
filled with depressing verbs and adjectives.
It is played like a minor chord
that compliments the sound of my guitar.
This poem I just made up
is a major shoutout to my best friend.
LINDSAY KETTERMAN! !
It is a happy poem
Just like a happy face.
That should be cherished throughout life.
P.S. I didn't write this poem.
poem by Hannah Hetze
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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With All The Reading and Writing I Do
With all the reading and writing I do
With all the work of the mind and heart
There comes a time
It can be any time
There comes a time
When the Poem must enter-
The Poem?
The deeper feeling-
The Music of the soul-
What I most need to say inside
The Writing which somehow surpasses all the other
In its inner intensity in its deepest feeling –
I write a poem now
All my heart mind soul
Go into every word and phrase.
The Poem? The Poem?
For which I write to live
And which through writing
I most live in Writing-
The Poem that this is.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Why We Write
It all comes from the heart
And the enlightening of the mind
Composing lines of art
Under mysteries of the kind...
It may be a relief from grief
It always is an act of discovery
Even though it may be brief
Every word speaks eternity!
In the realms of writing
Life journeys face mysteries
Of love, faith, true living
In an eternal cycle of discoveries!
February 2012
poem by Maria C. Costa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Poem Is Just A Poem
a poem is just a poem and if it is just a poem
it must be just a poem just like another poem
a poem is nothing but just a poem otherwise
it cannot be my poem; it may speak about
anything, or something, or about everything,
but my poem is just a poem just like anybody's
poem, which is just but a poem, like any other
poem, for a poem to be a poem it must just be
a poem: it has nothing to do with my love, and death
my life, or bliss, but as i have told you, once, twice
thrice, eat some rice, and be that wise, a poem is
just a poem, just like your poem. Why do you insist
on asking, what is happening to me? I am not a
poem, for i am but just the composer of the poem,
need i tell you again, that a poem is just a poem?
just like any other poem, which is just a poem
it is just a voice in my head that i have heard
someone comes and speaks and i listen so
this poem is not actually my poem but the poem
of someone else's: theirs not mine, from a mind.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Poem Is For You
The ferocious medium of exchange,
My hands did eventually separate from,
My life is a long pillar my dear,
Sustainable in another's life,
I dont have much to plant,
Neither do I have fruit to produce,
My gift are my words,
This poem is for you
I would want to make you happy,
To take you where the water is bluest,
To lay you where the grass is greener,
Everything you desire, I wish to provide,
My pockets are empty my dear,
Yet my mind full of words,
My gift are my words,
This poem is for you
If would just pick a diamond,
Or maybe it rained gold on me,
The fortune is not on me,
The old legends do not exist anymore,
Should I buy miracles for you,
Your happiness is what I long for,
Should I be a thief to please you,
Or maybe a gambler to buy your smile,
I may not take your out for dinner,
Certainly my love will be deeper,
My gift are my words,
This poem is for you
Im not a super hero I know,
Neither the Mr. Nice guy Im sure,
Im not the charmer, nor the sweet guy
Fame exist in exception of me,
My gift are my words,
This poem is for you
I dont pursue prestigious careers,
Neither a pharmacist, nor a bio scientist,
But can walk for you in the mist,
To make you happy, I have no income,
But nomatter the distance, I can come,
Im not a man of many talents,
But im a man of many words,
My gifts are my words,
This poem is for you
Open up your heart,
Younger I know I am,
Open up your heart,
Way out of your league I am,
Open up your heart,
My gifts are my words yes
poem by Gaylord Munemo
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For The Reader
Thier tortured soul will climb into this blind
And thier words will mingle with mine
In thier mind, they'll think of the ideals
A shride of pride for this moment in time,
When our mind's eye do intertwine
And everything clicks for a mild moment
The humor will bring them up, though they're never really down
Smiles pound thier heart from the inside out
They'll pry and try to get inside, behind these battered eyes
This person will read my poem and for a spliced moment,
Realize and get it
The message of feelings underneath
They could be any color, or mind, from any walk of life
But if they give my try some attention
They are not only the reader, but also
The Intention
poem by Lauren Miller
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Unlocked Soul
As he builds me up for a path unknown,
He places peace and quietness, in a lost soul.
I could not fathom his purpose, why me.
Cries of sadness from those I love.
As my heart reaches out as they spoke.
I know joy is inside, I cry don't you see it!
Only you can bring it out!
I remember those tears I cried,
Fallow me on my quest of destiny;
take my hand as we walk.
My shoulder is bare, and my wisdom is free.
The love in my heart is just for you.
I will always be there!
Love is the answer, don't you see.
It's a greatness of life,
the ultimate pleasure we seek.
As years have past by,
I look deep inside their souls.
I see a longing, a desire, and a need!
poem by Carlene Maddux
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