Tag: read poetry

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

Read Poem: PASSIONS, by Carrie Moon

The word passion evokes pictures of a hot, steamy night,
But the passions I speak of are guided by God’s
There is passion in everyone, just waiting to ignite,
If only we could all follow our dreams without a fight.

When creativity courses through our veins,
We let go of routine and God holds the reins,
We give vent to our innermost soul,
Churning out labours of love, to reach our goal.

To be filled with passion is to be so alive,
To embrace every task, not only to survive,
This I’m sure is a pure, euphoric feeling of glee,
When you accomplish small steps, of the future you see.

Your stomach knots up in delight and such joy,
As you nimbly move on from each task so coy,
You smell the success of your passionate displays,
You know you’ve created uniqueness, in God’s ways.

Creative people are definitely a breed apart,
They focus furiously to produce their genre of Art,
They write and they dance and they act and they paint,
The passion so grabs them, that they might even faint

They love to create, sheer bliss to give to the world,
A precious part of their passionate hearts unfurled,
And when there’s a lull, and some quiet in their life,
They thank God for creativity without any strife.

Read Poem: END, by Christine Bolton

Evening touches the last light
Before it covers in its darkness
My heart swathed in mourning threads
and face immobilized in hardness

In the end they say it is black
This must surely be where I am
The birds do not sing
nor do I hear the bleat of a lamb

I feel only numbness
Immobilized with no direction
Hearing your words echoing in my ears
and their cruel inflection

I am a broken woman
Laying in pieces at your feet
A heap of something that once was
Your destruction complete

Before others we plighted our troth
An oath to be faithful and true
Our love an ocean not stopping at the shore
If only we knew

Your demons buried deep inside
Were still alive and well
Once the lid was open
Only time would tell

They had festered in their morbid coffin
Poison slowly growing in wait
A corpulent beast ready to explode
Once you opened the gate

I am now frozen in time
Your love was detrimental to my being
I lay slowly dying from the toxins
Your final gift is freeing

Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©

Read Poem: Overused and Meaningless, by Kathleen Kush

What if you were told
That the word LOVE was overused and meaningless?
That your heart, your mind, your body
Was overused and meaningless?
That unconditional love
Was not real?
And then you realize it is true!
Your partner, your children your dearest friends
Remind you, eventually.
And you can not believe it.
You try so hard to reprogram your thoughts.
You are told it is just a learning experience.
You are tired of this type of education!
Therapy exhausts you.
If you must love,
Believe only in yourself.
And you will still be betrayed!

Read Poem: HOME, by joshua anand skater

i wake up beside your huddled body
wrapt in sheets cocooned in silent dreams
i pry myself awake and watch you
beauty condensed to sleepy peaceful knot

sand-stuck eyes and weary muscle conspire
to move my groaning shambles down the hall
the burner clicks, the gas explodes in fire
the beans spew out their sour perfumed gall

drowsily i stir and watch the air expire
and foam the milk in oval spurts of steam
and stumble back – the splashes sweet
the stickiness still hot on weary knuckles

the cup sits by your head you do not stir
faint flare of lip and blush of tiny nostril
i sit erect and watch you as i savour
the too-hot liquid gulped down my greedy throat

new paradise to silent sit and linger
in atmosphere of love and want and peace.

Read Poem: Everyone Deserves A Chance to Be, by Rita F. Kurian. GENRE: LIFE

They called me a little egg
No arms, face or legs
A little heart beating 24/7
A little soul, happy in oblivion
I loved my Mama’s voice
I would hear her speak
And my heart would leap with joy
I felt comforted within her warm walls
Felt safe secure as I never would fall

Then one sad cold day
To my deep painful dismay
I heard an evil stranger’s voice
He spoke about making a right choice.
Something did not feel right
Then suddenly, something
Hard and sharp ripped me like a knife
I cried Mama, “Help me, set me free!”
My Mama did not seem to hear me
That monster attacked me with sadistic glee
I felt so helpless, Mama seemed far away
My world turned dark and gray
And then I faded away

Moments later, an angel carried me up
Up beyond and I was taken
To My Creator
I got to learn the horrific truth
And my soul in sorrow did droop
For I learned my Mama wanted me to die
I heard this and started to cry
My loving Creator let me weep
And said, “I know your pain is deep
But in Heaven, rewards you will reap

Then He washed away my tears
And healed my pain and fears
He gave me a new body
And soon I was strong and sturdy

In time, I could forgive my Mama
Because you see
Right now, she still does not understand
She does not know
May she wake up
And in understanding grow
Before to eternity she goes..

I still ask her now
Mama, do you hear me?
If you do
Help others to go free…
May they never
End up like me…
Because everyone deserves
A chance to be

Rita Farhat Kurian

Read Poem: They Say, by Michael Murdoch

They say you make your own stress

And that it’s detrimental to your health

They say that success breeds success

And in life one must know one’s self

They say stars can’t shine without darkness

And money doesn’t necessarily mean wealth

But none of this means anything unless

You realise

my wine glass isn’t going to fill itself

Read Poem: DADDY, by Vida Zukauskas

My dad always dressed boring beige shirts beige pants
no colours or flashiness.
he would always offer to drive everyone home and wait until they got inside safely.
he would always drive me to Toronto many times,
Miss me saying am good girl, miss my birthday twin miss spending our birthday together, he was my angel
my rock, feels as if nobody cares anymore, always cared deeply, loved deeply, feel lost without him
wish could bring him back, crying comes so easily, remembering moments we shared
cooking, travelling, having coffee, going to church just being together
you were here now you are gone
you were warm blooded.
now your nothing more
you were here
now your spirit is everywhere
daddy, daddy, daddy
why did you leave me
you were so kind and loving
miss hearing your voice
hearing you speak
your laughter and seeing you smile

Read Poetry: THEM!!!, by Thomas Jones

Jones is the name
Smiles is my game
Yes I’m feeling myself at the moment
Moment so pure you can’t clone
For a while I wonder who I was
Then I caught a glimpse a slight buzz
It was times where I hid behind Laye
But then ppl will ask, don’t worry I’ll explain if I may
Jones Laye Thomas 3 persons living in the same
Now how do we know when which one comes to the light
Well that depends on the situation and who knows at that moment to shine bright
Allow me to learn you and break it down
I’ll tell you why you rarely see me frown
Who is Laye
Laye likes to play
One who sees the scene
The one for the green
Making decisions in the now
You’d call him a clown
Of the three he cares the least
Just trying get the gust of this life feast
Could you handle him if stayed the while
Now I’ll give you Jones
The man that flows through bones
Started as name grew into the man
Ask him he has the plan
Never falling short that goes against what was taught
Cursed actually but fighting a battle to be fought
The forerunner for the body in which he resides
Making sure all things run smooth in the lives over which he presides
More qualified and not even a whole person
Have a problem he’s the one that’ll fix it before it worsens
Something out of nothing is his aim but in a good way
Call on him and he’s coming to save the day
Here comes Thomas pay attention
Save all this for retention
The Protector The Provider The Proclaimer…whew
The realest of them main ingredient in the stew
Without him they all sink to the depths of no return
He built both them from nothing, showing little concern
Now they run wild, but him, reels them in
Keeping the whole operation centered
Staying on course with race they all entered
This guy chose to play the sidelines
Allowing the other two to float free within the guidelines
Call him father if you will because that’s him
The others could be the children, yeah that’s them
So what’d we learn in class today
All three may have much to say
But remember to attention and see who’s in the light
They all shine bright very bright
Created by a mastermind clever in more ways than one
Now set loose to conquer and have fun
Bonus here
Laye is Jones
Jones is in the bones
Jones came from Thomas
And I have created the 3 so who am I?

-Thomas Jones

Read Poem: THE SKIES CANNOT HOLD ME, by Alex Hutchins

http://reflectionsinthoughts.blogspot.com/

Down through the tickling clouds I glide
past grays and blues, and memory clues
always so damn alluding…
through the greens of timeless beauties
gliding lower and lower…
closer and closer…
and into the daisies I sweep and swoon
like a child lost in clover
feeling the delicate pedals touching me
a soft delicate touch
oh so wanting more…
but…
not now, I smile
and back into the skies I roar,
higher into the skies than ever before
until a distant shadow I see
looming directly over me
but I dare not peek
and hoping he will speak
but I am off again
to parts unknown
and no notes this time do I keep
but see all the homes
away from home
that became our homes
and it all seems like just last week
and its all been swell
bidding you a fond farewell
but I seek out more
as the skies can no longer hold me.