Category: hope poetry

Read Poem by David P. Carroll

She’s Beautiful.
As I’m looking into
You bright eyes,
Suddenly I’m in love….
With a beautiful woman
From above,
As I close my eyes,
And count to three,
I see us forever in love…
It’s our future I see,
So take my hands
Sweetheart….
As I kiss you softly
And slowly,
A forever trust of friendship
From here and beyond,
Between you and me,
Gazing into your eyes
Touching you softly
Watching the birds
Our favorite song’s
As we watch
The stars sparkle
In the night sky,
I Whisper…..
Your beautiful….

I LOVE YOU….

It’s what I see YOU,
True Beauty
Standing in front​ of me….

David P Carroll…

Read Poem: My Seraph in Disguise, by Tyler R. Martin

from Bourboncigarettesandsyllables.com

A beauty thought reserved only for nature,

Somehow now resides within your eyes,

How can such magic be earthly normal,

Is it real, or just some clever guise?

I wonder, are you a true mortal woman

Or a Seraph, an angel in disguise?

–Your hair of a goddess, with golden streaks

Falling gently on tan, smooth skin;

I envy it, caressing your neck,

Cascading down your back, touching your chin.

You’re speaking softly, with love in your eyes,

Giving me a glimpse of your gorgeous mind,

Such a serene, tantalizing feeling,

Something of heaven and earth combined.

And with a pitch like some divine instrument,

Yours: a voice that serenades so sweetly,

From a grin like a summer sunrise,

A few notes and I’m enthralled completely.

Because truly, I wouldn’t be surprised

Were you to admit to me tenderly:

You’re not just my love, my prize,

But my Seraph, my angel in plain disguise.

Read Poem: Black Moon Poem, by Zoey The White Lioness

Straightforward to the ROOT,
THE BASE,

The ungodly shine,
Within the eye,

Purging the soul and mind,
A black moon is

Approaching with unwinding coiling frustrating timing,
Casting unidentified obscurity,

Shadow puppets laughing madly,
Nothing’s where it should be,

The moon won’t shine,
Its preoccupied,

with the clouds of wrath
polluting my mind,

Let me out let me out!,
I don’t know what to do,

In regards to myself,
And the black moon,

Let the negative energy fade,
Don’t deny that it should dissipate,

This ugly omen,
This peti sight,

Of how,
Everything flips between,

Black and white,
The more I stare into this dark eye,

I find I just can’t look away,
It’s like a werewolf, a face forming in the sky,

Looming grinning over everything,
The moon won’t shine,

Its preoccupied,
with the clouds of wrath

polluting my mind,
Let me out let me out!,

I don’t know what to do,
In regards to myself,

And the black moon,
In the distance is a light,

A pillar of gold,
A relief from this moon,

Brooding like my soul,
If i want to enter it’s glow,
All I have to do is let go,

Can I even let go,
Can I even let go,
Can I even let go,
I just want to let go!!!!!!

Read Poem: Veterans – Not Just For November, by Bill Clayton

The medals glint on Whitehall
The Veterans glow with pride
The country’s politicians
Standing side by side

Rousing words are spoken
Solemn stories told
Politicians sing the praises
Of the old and oh so bold

But as these words all fade away
It seems it’s just another day
For every poppy lying by their feet
A veteran sleeps out on the street

TV crews have all gone home
Veterans now left all alone
Returning to a desperate fate
Help them now, don’t leave too late

For those who fought and gave their trust
The treatment given is so unjust
Those soldiers held in high esteem
Are being ignored, to an extreme

For those returning from the front
A new war is just beginning
For all those who came back to us
Inside their heads are spinning

A never ending torture
They live each and every day
The horrors they’ve seen
From the places they’ve been
Will never go away

The Covenant talks of treating fair
Well, none of that is working
The politicians preen and pose
While from responsibility, they’re shirking

To all in power or wish to be
There’s one thing that you have to see
Our poppies may be packed away
But our veterans’ needs are here to stay

Let’s show the world, let’s lead the way
Let it not be just a remembrance day
Let’s show the care that they deserve
Those who bravely went and served

Don’t let the pride and memories fade
Till it’s time to think of the next parade
From your responsibilities, no retreat
Get our comrades off the street.

Please don’t betray our girls and boys
Please give them all your loudest voice
Give them a home, give them care
Don’t leave them all alone out there

Homes fit for heroes
Lloyd George said
Not cardboard boxes in their stead
Maybe what he had to say
We’ll remember this Remembrance Day.

Bill Clayton
© 2019

Read Poem: Paranoia, I seek help, by Vyom Desai

I suffer from chronic personality disorder
Also called emotional dysregulation disorder,
where I suffer from mood swings and behavioral changes,
just like abruptly changing seasons,
winter to monsoon,
monsoon to summer,
not following the regular order.
order to keep track of my body
I keep forgetting what happened 2 mins back,
but remember every time my heart was pierced
Cut down,
sold in the market,
at a price as low as the value of plastic.

The symptoms of it says,
Expectations
rising expectations from people,
people you have invested in.
Disappointment
It becomes part of your daily life,
as expectations are not for people who suffer.
as expectations are privileges I cannot afford.
Moodswings
Abrupt mood swings opens space of discomfort
like those between states and countries
unsaid and cold,
like my red eyes after every suicidal thoughts I have.
Behavioural changes
I fear to talk to the person I love,
like a kid afraid of falling from bicycle
or a man afraid to fall in love.
I stay blank unable to talk,
As I my mouth has been stitched
because words will take them far from me.
and I won’t be able to see them again
or maybe I will see them
through my soul and not eyes,
with love and no love in return,
Paranoia,

these Symptoms leads me to paranoia,
like smoking leads to cancer
addictive and unrequited
My disorder is no different,
It takes me far from people,
people I love,
people for whom I have killed myself again and again,
people who don’t know anything about my sufferings,
Today I tell you with all my strength and love
All my life and vulnerability
I am not okay,
I am suffer from chronic personality disorder
leading to paranoia
that my love for you
works as needles and threads
stitching my mouth to not say anything,
and listen to you
with my eyes red in colour
Telling
I love you.
I wish to be okay.
I seek help.

Read Poem: HE LOOKS HUMAN TO ME, by Elly Paul A. Tomas

the news megaphones he is sporting a new look
i wanted to react like WTF, is that even news?

he is buying wet market carcasses in candid photos

gamely

like it was not expected for him to do so
like he is not eating
like he lives on astronaut’s food pills

but Pablo Neruda would probably say
“at least, it’s no longer a difficult time for him”

and sure enough, i would agree

i would agree.

Read Poem: OUR LEGACY?, by Andrew Smith

I think about the future,
I think about the past,
I think about the little ones,
That seem to grow up fast,
I think about their years to come,
And the world in which they’ll live,
And I think about the legacy,
Our generation hopes to give.

But what will be that legacy,
That gift we’ll leave behind,
These things we deem important,
For the furtherance of mankind,
As we rush headlong in denial,
See things through blinkered eyes,
And in our wake we’ll leave dead seas,
And toxic polluted skies.

We’ll kill off the pollinators,
Raise the forests to the ground,
We’ll build our concrete jungles,
And say that they’re New Towns,
An opportunity for all to live,
How can we be so blind,
To destroy the things that we all need,
For the future of mankind.

So I think about the future,
And I think about the past,
I think of all the little ones,
That may not grow so fast,
For their future is looking bleaker,
Unless we open our eyes to see,
That a sad and dying planet,

Will be the legacy that we’ll leave

Read Poem: Seasonal Asset Disorder, by Jayme Villa-Alvarez

Winter is coming.
Another summer surrenders to the fall
There is a melody I’m softly humming
How many losses can I recall.
In the somber sullen wake of my disgrace
I seek redemption to save face.
There is a gnawing underneath the skin
A haunting howl amidst the din
The storm winds settle and blow back
I have plenty of strength to make up for what I lack.
Gravity has got me down again
The heart resounds a pulse from within
Autumn is nigh
I breathe in the earthen air
And simply sigh
And summon up a prayer.

Jayme Villa-Alvarez, 9/11/17

Read Poem: Change in me, by Keenan Paul Petersen

The Change in me is not really about what you’re seeing.
It’s not about the person I was but merely about who I am becoming.
To notice my physical is like reading the words in this Page.
What I was looking for was a more mental, emotional and deeper kind of Change

When I first arrived here, thinking this place meant nothing to me.
Faces all around my bedside and non of you were anything like me.
Come to think about it, back in that day I wasn’t even sure what I was professing to be. I just wanted to be labelled a Me!

See I was faced with two choices, to Rise-up or surrender.
Assimilation was the name of my game, decided I was leaving the old ways behind me.
Socially different yet in some ways I stayed the same.
Through lessons learned I’m finding, let’s call it my own way.
Days pass and months go by, each day testing me to the limit; ethical difference and the terror of the unknown F.E.A.R the most I will not lie.

In my past falling back to old habits were my phases now past.
Looking to that future filled with no more beat down broken glass.
I have broken free of society and it’s mental chains.
Gotten rid of endless negativity and now I know what I see, reflections in my private mirror.
The true the real me has learned to refrain, abstain, sustain; and no longer is the future filled with disappointment and everlasting stains.

– @KeenanTheySay

Read Poem: THE DEVIL’S CLUTCH, by Kevin Parish

Eerie hands paint the canvas black
While wisps of smoke still linger
Surely, evil has become manifest
Where once were talented fingers

Brushstrokes of darkness in shades of gray
Follow along haunted lines
Lost are the souls whose eyes behold
This gallery of Hades lies

Countless virgins sacrificed
Off cliffs over a raging sea
Whilst serpents slash down below
Awaiting morsels from the jubilee

The wetness of the fresh blood glistens
With the sinister artist’s touch
As another one falls from arrogance
Into the devil’s clutch