Poetry: United by PoxyMadMagpie

 Genre: Love, Inspirational, Life.

 
we are creatures
made out of flesh
and spirit that
never surrenders.

we defy fate.
we defy the end.

for our hearts
beat beyond the body.
they are bound
together.

booming through millenniums.
laughing at pain.

showering hatred with love.
with every strike
we grow bigger.
stronger.

never surrendering to evil.
we rather fall… united.

in love.
 

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Poetry: A Full Life of Narrow Streets by James Fitzpatrick

Genre: Romance, beauty, history, geography, love, wildlife, sad, Ireland, America, literature, books, defiance

 Beneath the broad columns of Herculean Pillar,
Weeps the springtime feather dance
Of freezing frothing blanket.
He lies on Irving’s rocks across the Henry,
Painting words of Freedom’s March across a furrowed brow,
Till tiredness creeps it’s feet on lonely eyes,
Counting mountains
As they frown down from above.

On the first crack of the distant Bell
A teary head raises from a bloody pillow,
And sings out the count, to defiant beats.
Flakes drift softly round a faraway moon,
As drizzle melts the lines of morning strollers,
With the hoofs their companions, embossed upon the heather.

His eyes close as he settles to dreams of futures possible,
Picturing rows of steaming turrets, sharpened blades
And crumbling fear, as they draw known faces on fancy paper.
He hears whispered talk of sagging brows and lobbing smiles,
Scribbling and Scripting our morning news where
New artisans paint Headlines in his head,
“Work, save, and Beg.
Make ends meet,
Work those streets,
Bare them writers, debaters,
Leaders, loiters,
Teeming with poor lice“.

Upset now, he straightens, filled with sculpted fear,
And flagging hope,
Devouring ideals of painful labour,
Darkened evenings and prose.
The Narrow Alleys echo his comrades screams,
‘They are Flogging the undesirables‘.

Cries of the deserted ring out
As sweat now pores on dirtied boots.
On A One page of women Jubilant,
Black Coffins swim across the oceans, and the Singing corpses chant the Voters Slogan
‘The great appear great,
Only because we are on our Knees’

The Parisians have embraced the soul of his youth, stole his heart,
Hardened his resolve,
And emancipated the print of the newest chapters.
He’ll fall upon the lords great will,
The ‘Singers’ and ‘Wobblies’ will call and cheer,
While unrest leaves lanes of torn and listed books.

It’s a world only make believe could make so real.
Locked in, Locked out,
Fattened Guerrillas stalking shadows,
In concrete jungles of law and lands.
Their people Long since, Ner’ forgotten,
For He hears their whispers in his sleep.

This Farmers land, had workers lead their kin to the gates of Slaughter,
Then scavenged, begged and stowed to the cloudy Hill
Of Overlooking
To remorse or return, is a question beyond the door of the living.
He must Shed not for the defiant butcher,
But more for the life now gone,
Since sold to an aging critic.

He was Born in to the Poor mans world,
But now freed from it’s chains,
Must help make what‘s fallow ripen.
On the streets where rubble were once great walls,
Where mounted high, the heavenly stag did Breed,
In fields where blight had starved their plates,
He would toil and drive and Dig and Build.

That day, That day in May,
Upon a hazy heather pillow,
A life of history filled a lonely man.
As He lay and held the hand of glories past,
He raised a fist to salute the one which had just begun.
He shakes hands in his dreams with the men of the mist,
Along hills,
And at the edge of great towns.

James Fitzpatrick
Seamus Mac Giolla Phadraig

James Fitzpatrick is an Irish Poet based in Dublin.

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Read Poetry: Fragile Heart, by Penny Wilson

Genre: Love

This Fragile Heart I give to you, 
To do with, as you would do.
 
Demons from the past have made me hide
And deny the love I have inside.
 
So Take this Fragile Heart with Care
And all the Love waiting there.  
 
— Penny Wilson

 

 

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Read Poetry: Forever Yours, by Richard Huntly

 Genre: Family, Love

Forever is a long time. Yet still I’m here, simply yours.
I belong to you, I am forever linked to you, all yours.
You created something special between us, forever yours.
Through trial and error, the learning curve, u raised me forever yours.
In sickness and in health, yes like matrimony, I am forever yours.
When I got on your nerves as I grew from infancy to adulthood, still I remained forever yours.

Shameful that only one day has been chosen for you, it’s still forever yours.
Even on the days that perhaps you didn’t feel your best, I came first, forever yours.
Feeding me, healing me, teaching me, how can I be anything else, forever yours.
When I began writing my own life chapters, lest we forget, I am still forever yours.
As short as this message may be, the meaning is clear, this day and eternity are forever yours.

Happy Mother’s Day to you these women I can’t say enough about, the world is yours.
I said it before that forever is a long time, but so too are you.
Be all that you know yourself to be, fore as long as you do these things forever will live within you.

 

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Read Poem: Ode To Queen, by Benjamin Ede

Genre: Love

 

 From a distant space
It lingers in grace,
Amidst the air
In a croon so fair.

A strange rhythm,
Sneaking in,through my solitary chest ceiling;
Sweetly thrumming my heart walls
And luring my soul with bewitching calls.
I’m now the flower dancing the wind:
A prey captivated amid your mind,
And by your kind spell and charms
Am slaughtered in your arms.

Now,why near though far?
And Why faraway,yet near?
Why the soothing thrum,in silence I hear?
Honey stings,roses spears,
This our still minds should bear-
Not just swimming the ocean of pearl.

Come,lets dance in harmony;
To this long lingering melody.
No fairer poise gesture,
Nor the poison of treasure,
Can fetch such pleasure:
This mingling meets Devine measure.

 

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Read Poetry: SOUL, by World Imagined

Genre: Relationship, Love

 
You don’t even know
the power
you don’t realise
the flower
that grows inside
illusioned with pride
guarded by mind
is your might
is your right
to fight
versus premise of life
to know the truth
to be full, not half.

Whilst keeping it a prisoner
in a dark corner of your heart
you can not fathom
you can not know
you can not see
you can not be
who you are.
 

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Poem: Loved Dark and Wasn’t Sad, by Tanvi Sareen

Genre: Abstract, Love

I live in the darkest apartment of the city under the bridge.
This is not a love poem. It does not have hidden meanings.
It has a story of the happiest man I know.
I am certain that I love the color black.
But I do not wear any. I wear brown instead.
I like darkness not on me but outside
To assure that it isn’t curbed anywhere inside.
I cheat myself when I add milk to coffee and
When I shave my head and
When I do not ascertain my groceries at night.
You can touch me from anywhere
I guarantee you my existence
But not my location.
I do not carry maps. Only train passes.
I choose girls wearing black on themselves
To help me with addresses
And get ignored due to juxtapose dressing.
The story is colorless. Less interesting than rainbows.
I have many ‘Once upon a time’ in my head
The tales no one would love in dark.
I sleep till 2 in the morning.
My bag has black and white paints
Black to build and white for corrections.
This hiding place of mine has a bulb
Whose occasional presence is reminded
Only for reading dates on the cans.
I paint signboards for a living.
People provide me colors only then.

How selfish.
My friendships start on an endgame.
I have friends whom I have met only once.
And shall never meet again.
Storms are good until and unless the roof leaks
I find weeds beautiful too.
My family does not know I live almost homeless
All they know is that I am happy.

 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
http://www.wildsound.ca/poetrycontest.html

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Poem: Loving with an Arrhythmia, by J. NACALABAN

Genre: Love, Romance, Relationship

 I have mastered the act of looking calm,
When my brain floods with dopamine,
And the sensors in my head transmit messages
To the other parts of my body, particularly my heart
To beat wildly and fast like an out of control drum
That it hurts so badly, but it will never show in my face.
I am the master of disguise,
That every time you’d look into my eyes, or touch my hand,
Or say my name – I’d look as neutral as I could.
Even though my chest screams in pain
Because, hey, this little acts of affection can make my heart beat faster,
So fast it forgets the rhythm that it should be beating in.
And somewhere inside my head, a loud sigh and an audible
“Here we go again,”
I can’t afford to be overjoyed and so I try not to think too much
On how beautiful you look when you laugh at that not-so-funny joke that I’ve
made,
Or how you tease me when I become childishly stubborn;
I can’t feel too excited, looking at you walk towards me
Because believe it or not, this dysfunctional heart can kill me.
But no matter how I try to suppress,
Fighting back with thoughts of dying,
That every time you lean your head on my shoulder,
Or look into my eyes, or touch my hand,
Or say my name – I’d risk skipping a beat,
If that’s what it takes for me to show how you make me happy.
If that’s what it takes for me to show how I love you.

 

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Poem: In the Stars, by Marcus G. Taylor

 Genre: Love, Inspirational

 We talked through the night with our hot cocoa on the coffee table
She said, can I tell you about this crazy dream I had, if I’m able
I said, by all means, share with me your awesome tale
She said, you may think I’m crazy but you’re here now so oh well
She continues, so last night I had a dream that I burst into a billion stars
My light washed over the universe, and I was healed from my scars
I felt this latitude of freedom that we always wish
But that felt natural: like air to a bird, water to a fish
Don’t you think that would be cool if it actually happened
And I said, when they commission for the phenomena’s point of origin, I will be the ship’s captain

 

 

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Legendary, Poetry by Clara Pohlman

 Genre: Family, Love

 For my Brother Zachary

There he is
Mr president
Sitting in a wood stained chair with a coffee mug
From his trip to Colorado.
The tie he wears
Erupts with ivory, it is ironed
He too has ironed his thoughts into emails,
And the responses from philosophers
Cascade from the inbox of an envelope.

Aspiring to God’s plan he thinks,
His thoughts always turn
Into an examination of
Courage to stand up for his beliefs.

No feat
Is too scary for a legend.
Speed bumps are not
In his vocabulary.
New questions squirt answers
Into his K-cups
Every morning.

A girl he admires
Creeps her way
Into every loving gesture.
He puts faith
Into love and stocks love
In siblings and God.
Somehow God is always
Mentioned.

His prayers are sincere and words crunch of authenticity.

I want
To be my brother.
Someone who loves
Carelessly and acts
With humility
Winning is his
Hobby and losing
Is his strength.
To the future
President

This poem
Is dedicated.
Happy
Birthday Zachary,
I love
You!

 

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