Tag: Motivational

Poetry: Silent A by Nicole Long

Genre: Motivational, Society, Inspirational
 
They call me Silent A—
Who am I? They ask and don’t ask
Slithering into a discussion about
School, politics, what happened on the news—
While everyone gazes for a reaction,
Do they look concerned? What are they thinking? Do they know?
But you can’t seem to get out of the dazed,
Confused state I put you in.

I come when you least expect it—
In the middle of a bar,
The music pumping, juices flowing
Through your body.
The heart starts pounding,
Panic sets in like a
Storm crossing the horizon.
You look around, making sure no one notices.

In the middle of the night—
3am as silence fills the air,
Coming off of sleep meds and
Mixture of Vodka Tonics and Merlot,
Anything to keep the mind
At an altered state of nowhere and beyond.
But I’m screaming at you,
The toxicity won’t keep me away.

I’m the one who kills—
Friendships, relationships, your purified mind
Keeping you away from what you love,
What you don’t love.
Standing in that darkened corner,
Waiting for that next high off of me.
They call me Silent A—
You can’t see me, they can’t see me, but I see you.

 

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Read Poetry: The Hypocritical Oath, by Angela Umphers Rueger

Genre: DEATH, SOCIETY, MOTIVATIONAL, INSPIRATIONAL
 
Not just anyone can kill a baby;
It takes a degree to commit that crime.
The doctor’s conscience will hurt him—maybe,
But the guy on the street will do some time.

In the clinic it’s called an abortion,
But it’s murder when done on the street.
Society’s views are a distortion
Of truth. Just ask the next stranger you meet.

A drunken man hits an oncoming car.
The impact begins preterm labor.
The nearest hospital is much too far
Away. The paramedics can’t save her.

The drunkard is found guilty of murder
Of the baby that was killed on the way
To a place where Doc waited to hurt her—
He was scheduled to abort her that day.

Abortion is legal; it’s Mother’s choice.
Planned Parenthood plays on that ruse.
But Baby’s human. What about her voice?
Shouldn’t she too have the right to choose?

 

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Read Poem: To Save The World, by Patricia Egan

Genre: Awareness, Society, Hope, Painful, motivational

 

 Cascaded by the edge of fire

Surviving this persecution

Unknown to passing eyes

Life that was meant to save

Not be subject to explicit wear

I was surrounded by hope

Cast into a glorious life

Blinded by the lights

Raised to believe the stories

Ruined by a passing night

Where this story began

Is not for the weakened soul

Blind folded and drugged

Stripped and prodded

Scored by evil

Passed by greed

Gifted to the hidden

Robbed of all faith

Labeled for a life time

Beaten by pleasure

Fondled by many

Bought by blood money

Tears hidden by rain

Rewarded by survival

Cascaded by the edge of fire

Surviving this persecution

Rescued by a passing night

I am surrounded by hope

Where this story ends

A new begins

To save the world

 

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Read the best of MOTIVATIONAL/INSPIRATIONAL Poetry – Part 2

CLICK the link and read the best of poetry

AFTER SUNSET, Javane Stewart
After Sunset, Poetry by Javane Stewart

BARBIE, Hlox Da Rebel
Barbie, Poetry by Hlox Da Rebel

ONLY UNTIL BOREDOM STRIKES, Rayanne Banaga
Only Until Boredom Strikes, Poetry by Rayanne Banaga

FROZEN DREAMS, Virendra Gupta
FORZEN DREAMS, Poetry by Virendra Gupta

POETREE OF LIFE, Lydia Torres
Poetree of Life, Poetry by Lydia Torres

LIFE, Tony Blackstone
LIFE, Poetry by Tony Blackstone

TEST YOUR TALENTS, Theres Ayla Kravetz
Test Your Talents, Poetry by Therese Ayla Kravetz

ANYONE, Robert Valleau
ANYONE?, Poetry by Robert Valleau

SOUTH BOUND, Ruth Andrews Garnes
South Bound, Poetry by Ruth Andrews Garnes

I WILL HOLD MY PEN TO BED, Ibrahim Olalere
I Wil Hold My Pen To Bed, Poetry by Ibrahim Olalere

THE CARNIVAL, Guessella Daniels
The Carnival, Poetry by Guessella Daniels

CHANGE, Chantel Wiggins
Change, Poetry by Chantel Wiggins

MAJORITY, Sanijela Matkovic
MAJORITY, Poetry by SANIJELA MATKOVIĆ

THE TRAIN TRIP HOME, Ben Marchant
The Train Trip Home, Poetry by Ben Marchant

CHILDHOODS PAST, Robert Valleau
CHILDHOOD’S PAST, Poetry by Robert Valleau

THE COLOR OF MY SKIN, Sonya Marshall
THE COLOR OF MY SKIN, Poetry by Sonya Marshall

INSPIRED BY YOU COLORS, Kerry Akers
Inspired by you Colors, Poetry by Kerry Akers

I STAND ABOVE, Dorita Charles
I Stand above, Poetry by Dorita Charles

I LIVE IN THE PRESENT, Ehi Mary Okwechime
I LIVE IN THE PRESENT, Poetry by Ehi Mary Okwechime

Sedona Noon, Poetry by Cliff Smith

 Genres: Death, Funeral, Hope, Inspirational, Life, Love, Motivational, Philosophical, Redemption, Relationships, Religion, Song.

 Life is so fine here on the line till you cross over.
Lose your mind cause you can’t find your four-leaf clover.

You’ll discover another lover and feel it inside.
Find your mother, love your brother, don’t run and hide.

Sedona noon, Sonoran moon, Saguaro Sunset.
Sing a tune, make love in June, and have no regret.

Feel your worth, measure its girth, trust your value.
From your birth here on this Earth, your spirit shines through.

Living right with all your might, you try to be true.
Turn off the night and seek the light until it blinds you.

Sedona noon, Sonoran moon, Saguaro Sunset.
Sing a tune, make love in June and have no regret.

The flowers bloom, there’s lots of room to reach the sky.
From the womb straight to the tomb, the clouds they pass by.

The mountains rise before our eyes
It’s what we seek to reach the peak.
When all is said, what’s done is done, the words we speak…

Sedona noon, Sonoran moon, Saguaro Sunset
Sing a tune, don’t leave too soon, and have no regret.

When it’s the end, feel it spin, it’s all behind you.
Take a leap, it’s yours to keep, now follow me through…

Sedona noon, Sonoran moon, Saguaro sunsets.
Sing a tune, make love in June and have no regrets.

Sedona noon, Sonoran moon, Saguaro sunset.
Sing a tune, make love in June, don’t leave too soon and have no regret.

Sedona noon, Sonoran moon, Saguaro sunsets.
I sang a tune, made love in June, I left too soon, but have no regrets.

 

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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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The Sempiternal Sapphire, Poetry by Sohinee Dey

 Genre: Hope, Inspirational, Long, Motivational, Rhyme, Strong, Life,
Personality.

Out of nowhere, blowed the outraged zephyr,
Trying to diminish the glow of the sapphire.
Evocative and fetching all together,
Knew the wind not that it was nether!

Beleaguered by the wind, never did she cry,
Neither did she succumb into a mournful sigh.
Only believed that it will pass by,
And she will always hold her head high!

Ameliorated, she sat there,
Withstanding the wind; calling it mere.
Somewhere above the albatross cried,
Muffled and obliterated; in silent effluence, the wind crept by.

Then the sun shone in its full glory,
Nowhere was repentance; without it being sorry.
Engaged himself in a dalliance with the sapphire,
Scorched her; dissembling her in his fire!

Crestfallen was the sapphire now,
But promised herself never to bow,
Stronger she would be; made a vow.
Promised; a better route she would plough!

The rain came along,
Leaving behind a demure calmness behind.
Shy at first, then drenched the earth in ebullience.
Acting as an elixir for efflorescence.
The sapphire sat and let herself drench in petrichor.

Then the autumn was awakened,
Wherein the grip of the roots were slackened.
Left the greens and blooms to wither.
But a new beginning it was, for the sapphire.

The winter trailed in unannounced,
Froze the earth without an ounce of mercy.
Took the earth in its demesne,
But there she sat, shining in her ethereal flames.

The spring created an assemblage of blooms,
Cheered everyone out of their gloom.
The sapphire rejoiced in epiphany,
Without losing her shine; for fighting through all the infamy.
BY: SOHINEE DEY

 

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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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A Remarkable Tale from the Land of Podd, Poetry by Ed Newman

In a faraway land, in the Land of Podd,
folks felt themselves each just a little bit odd.
Why in fact, not a few,
not even a dozen,
and not just a sister or uncle or cousin…
‘Twas the entire country caught under this spell,
each believed only others were anything swell,
and each felt discouraged just a smidge by his lot,
and this is what happened, believe it or not.

Genre: Humor, philosophical, hope, motivational

A Remarkable Tale
from the Land of Podd
by Ed Newman

In a faraway land, in the Land of Podd,
folks felt themselves each just a little bit odd.
Why in fact, not a few,
not even a dozen,
and not just a sister or uncle or cousin…
‘Twas the entire country caught under this spell,
each believed only others were anything swell,
and each felt discouraged just a smidge by his lot,
and this is what happened, believe it or not.

It had been a bad year, and in addition to famine
there were enemy troops on the borders of Salmon,
their unfriendly neighbors near the Mountain of Yore
and the King was near certain that his land was done for.

So he needed a messenger to save their lands
and he sought out a hero from the kingdom’s bands.
But each made excuses, for this and for that,
One said, “My hair’s funny,”
and “I can’t wear a hat.”
A second, who resisted, said his nose was too fat!

The king tried reason, and he also tried terror,
but quickly realized that the latter’s an error,
so he promptly decided to appeal to God,
’cause these were strange people, these people of Podd,
for nothing was wrong… though each thought he was odd.

The king finally saw, although quite peculiar,
that the land would be lost — including their ruler! —
if he couldn’t find someone to carry out this task,
but there seemed no one else in his land left to ask.

Yet the Kingdom was saved, it turned out in the end,
all because the king knew that to save his own skin
he would have to step down from his throne, to the street,
and even though he didn’t like his own feet,
he became a great leader by hiding it inside
and he ran ‘cross the hills to the far other side
to bring back an army or some kind of troop
to finish forever this enemy poop.

I guess that is why some are kings, some are not.
We’re all quite the same, and we’re all that we’ve got.

 

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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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Hijo pródigo de la desgracia, Poetry by Francisco Fernández

No he vivido una guerra,
no he notado en mis manos el peso de la carne
y nada más.
No he respirado la ceniza,
ni los gritos me asaltan por las noches;
no he sentido la vulnerabilidad de la trinchera
ni el temblor del rifle ante mi enemigo.

Genre: Spanish Civil War, philosophical, social, motivational.

Hijo pródigo de la desgracia by Francisco Fernández

No he vivido una guerra,
no he notado en mis manos el peso de la carne
y nada más.
No he respirado la ceniza,
ni los gritos me asaltan por las noches;
no he sentido la vulnerabilidad de la trinchera
ni el temblor del rifle ante mi enemigo.

Sin embargo, eso no impide
que me sienta como un ángel
con el culo lleno de metralla.
Los libros me han susurrado la desgracia
de ser esclavo de esta historia,
de la Historia de España,
de la Gran Historia Universal.

No he sentido el frío del exilio
ni la orfandad de la infancia robada.
No merezco cartas ni medallas.
Sin embargo, no creo que mi lucha no tenga sentido
por estar lejos de las balas,
por ser mi espejo el campo de batalla.
La guerra a la que me enfrento cada día
es controlar al animal que habita mi estómago,
y prepararme para, llegado el momento,
impedir que la Historia se repita.

 

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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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The last human to have lived, Poetry by Mudeet Arora

Eyes showing a moonlit night,
Under the shadows of insanity,
He and his conscience got into a fight,
He had nothing to lose, nothing to pity,
After all, he has no one in his sight,
The world had lost everything,
Everything that seemed pretty.

Genre: Forced Motivation

The last human to have lived
by Mudeet Arora

Eyes showing a moonlit night,
Under the shadows of insanity,
He and his conscience got into a fight,
He had nothing to lose, nothing to pity,
After all, he has no one in his sight,
The world had lost everything,
Everything that seemed pretty.

He saw the world pass by,
In front of his closed eyes
Nothing he could do but try,
Try and try till he himself dies.

He had the world at his feet,
Many of you would take it
But he, he lived the life of a lover,
He could only express and could never fake it.

He cursed himself
He hit himself
All of the world seemed of no value to him,
He tried to kill himself
But his hands trembled like an adolescent’s first swim.

All he needed was to see a face
But this wasn’t a clue,
This wasn’t a game
All that was beloved,
There was no trace.

He sat in his final night,
He saw death dancing by all horizons,
His eyes lit up at the sight of death,
It was the first feeling he had for eons.

Death gently sat beside him
Intending to have a conversation
“Finally you’re here”, he said with a grin,
As his body felt cold…
When death made its embrace,
He remembered all the good he did,
Looking into death’s eyes,
Not for a moment his conscience slipped.

His smile cast a storm,
In that moment, he asked death…
This is all of what his last words could give…
“How does it feel to take away
The last human to have lived?”

 

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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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WHAT OF THE UNKNOWN PATH, Poetry by Maria Parent

What of the unknown path?
That gives you such an ache,
the crossroad you came to…
the step you didn’t take.

Genre: Life, Motivational

WHAT OF THE UNKNOWN PATH
~ By Maria Parent

What of the unknown path?
That gives you such an ache,
the crossroad you came to…
the step you didn’t take.

What of the unknown path?
….a regret ‘til the end?
A secret mystery
that time cannot transcend.

What of the unknown path?
You yearn for when alone…
Lost in your solitude;
Confused and on your own.

What of the unknown path?
That calmly calls you back,
with unfamiliar turns…
deep dark and often black.

What of the unknown path?
Its destination blurred,
its journey never known,
the memories not incurred.

What of the unknown path?
You may not ever know.
Instead just look forward…
as onward you must go.

 

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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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