Tag: rhyme

War In Between The Two, Poetry by Demarco Singleton

Genre: Love, Romantic, Life, Rhyme
War In Between The Two by Demarco Singleton
 
Stuck in between the two and having no clue what to do. 
You ask yourself, is it worth it? Is it worth breaking a heart that has such great purpose? 
Yet you find the distraction growing even greater but you feel you should tend to that later, 
but in reality you have to take action now. 
You have to break down, crazy as it may sound but it’s the truth. 
Listen to your heart and mind and analyze what you need to do. Yes it may be hard but now 
the outcome is up to you. 
Sit down and think.  
You’ve created something great and something that you potentially hate has come into your 
life and has filled your mind with things that are way beyond your trait. 
So your mind begins to race and your heart beats in an inconsistent pace that’s when you’ve 
grown to have doubts, now your mind and heart is in an unwanted place.  
Take a deep breath and balance out the situation. 
You realize lust has started a war and you’ve been exposed with no ammo. You know you 
have to fight back, so you suit up your love with some camos.  
A day without your love is a day without air, lust is such a competitor but there’s no way it can 
compare. 
With that realization, love defeats lust with no problem. If you can strengthen your love then 
problems, you’ll never have them. 
Grow in your love and fight for what it’s worth, cause lust is an obstacle but with love it has 
no birth. 

 

 

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The Gift, Poetry by Jo Anne Kennedy

Genre: Rhyme, Relationship

The Gift by Jo Anne Kennedy

You gave me a gift
Which I freely took
Making mistake after mistake
But always knew
I would be forgiven

However it still pained me
I lived with the guilt
Which only means,
That the gift you gave me
Wasn’t fully accepted

I am sorry for my ignorance
For living with a closed mind
Yet still an open heart
I selfishly received
But never freely gave

I need now to change
To realise how wonderful
The gift I have been given
That mistakes made
Are freely forgiven

I need to now see
What grace really means
Yes, it’s a gift I’ve received
But it’s also for me to be
To forgive those who have hurt me

Forgiveness is hard
Yet I have been forgiven
Seventy seven times seven
So why is it hard?
For me to fully forgive

I need to start afresh
To wipe the slates clean
To treat other people
With the grace I’ve been given
And to love anew each day

Jo Anne Kennedy
July 2016

 

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I am here to tell you…, Poetry by Kris

Genre: Rhyme, Relationship

“I am here to tell you…” by Kris
(letter too self)

you are NOT your disorder.
no matter what anyone tells you,
it DOES NOT define you.
CHOOSE to acknowledge this

you are NOT your label.
labels are mis-leading,
they are only useful for the proper professionals,
and, of course, insurance companies.
DO NOT let it hold you back,
restrict you or toss you to the side.
your label cannot taste the salty air,
smell the sweet scent of spring coming,
see the stars shining so brightly,
hear the sounds of birds chirping,
or feel the love you are so capable of giving and so worthy of receiving.

you are NOT your symptoms.
symptoms are fleeting,
they may not even adequately describe the human being which lay beneath.
they do NOT make you bad or dirty, or to be shamed by the ignorant.
do not let it determine your beliefs or impede on your dreams,
chose to believe and please, please chose to dream anyway.

you are not your challenges.
challenges are just that–challenges.
choose to see them as a gift,
a gift meant to show not DISability, but ABILITY.
believe it or not, we ALL have challenges.
they are opportunities to overcome,
not inspire but despite.
choose, not to succumb, but persevere and surpass,
to show all that glitters and the wonders you keep hidden within.

in fact, my dear one, you are not even your diagnosis,
but SO MUCH MORE then any of this
you are MORE then what others’ may CHOSE to see,
even more then what you may chose to see.

YOU are more empathic, caring, and compassionate because of it.

You are not limited, but limitless,
You are not inadequate, but adequate beyond all measure.
You are not unkind, but so kind.
You do not lack empathy, but feel it so easily.
You do not lack understanding, because you know what its like.
Yes, my friend, you are PERFECT…IMPERFECTLY PERFECT.

You are not untouchable, unreachable, or unloveable.
You are so easily touched, you may have to take a break at times.
It may take a little longer, a different journey, or a gentle knowing,
but you are so very reachable.
AND my little one,YOU ARE SO VERY INCREDIBLE.

You DO NOT belong in a box.
In reality my brother/sister, parent/child, friend/aquantiance , or even stranger…
YOU, yes YOU,
are SO VERY BRAVE and SO VERY LOVED.

 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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Surrounded By Land, Poetry by Bernadette Perez

Genre: Life, Nature

Surrounded By Land

Soft pillow’s do not soften the blow to thy head

Hard rocks below my feet are forced to bleed
My mind aches with thought
Pain fiercely repeats again and again
Time slowly eats away
Throbbing ached vessels relax
Blisters begin to form
I soon go mad
Numb to my surroundings
I lose interest
I walk pass the porch
Through the trees
In the distant a lake
A full body of water
Wading is effortless
Yearning to be free
Floating cascading upon the ripples
I travel past the reef
Exposed to all the elements
I drift to the edge
Quietly I disappear
Solemnly I rest

Bernadette Perez

A Poet possessing expression and creativity. In 1990 Bernadette received the Silver Poet Award from World of Poetry. Her work has appeared in The Wishing Well; Musings in 2010, Small Canyons Anthology in 2013, Poems 4 Peace in 2014. Fix and Free Anthology in 2015. She is the Vice President of the New Mexico State Poetry Society and member of Rio Grande Valencia Poets since 2005.
View additional creativity •
Safari – Poet Bernadette Perez

 

 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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Caged Bird, Poetry by Khalid

Genre: Rhyme, Society

Caged Bird by Khalid

The sweetness of your love has set a little caged-bird free

And his heart now sings for you incessantly

Since you are my ocean, glistening, serene;

Drowning me always in passion obscene

And you are the sunshine, my morning bliss

I wake with your heartbeat, the remnants of your kiss.

(Khalid-خالد)

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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DREAMS AND REALITY, Poetry by Natalia Gorbunova, Spain.

Genre: Rhyme, Inspirational

DREAMS AND REALITY

At last! From the heaven some sounds touch your ears:

Like a rapid stream is my fluent speech,
My words are mixed with your gentle tears.
Of course, I’ve made my option which
Helped me to defeat this cruel world.
Do understand, my little bird
All the melodies of my daring mind
(It was difficult to do so far).
We can create a lustrous star
To illuminate the humankind.
              *
            *     *
Oh, God! A bell is ringing on
And an ignis fatuus falls upon.
Natalia Gorbunova, Spain.

 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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Curiosity, Get Lost With Me, Poetry by Lizzie Heart

Genre: Rhyme, Life

Curiosity, Get Lost With Me by Lizzie Heart   

I have often wondered
about the birth of a lie.
The first historical untruth,
bearing the uncouth.

As it’s identity was told,
our ability to coincide was sold.
BUT,
what if we differently choose;
True or false never composed.

Contrast how we’re aware that a lie can existing anywhere;
Keying the ignition
of Paranoid suspicions.

Lies eradicated
and history re-rooted,
present day would contain
relations seemingly strange.

Altered existence
could challenge the persistence
tied to Truth’s scavenger hunt;
through the words that we say
and the events of the day.

I am impressed
by humanity’s depths;
with lies that possess and
spawn the obsessed.
A pattern seriously strong
with sincerity nearly gone.

Intriguing thought,
to have omittance and fabrication never taught.
Preventing, you know, one of those fights
that last straight into the night;
with frustrations strained
as resistance is so tactfully maintained.

Could it be,
trust would ease,
doubt decrease,
if society agrees
to murder deceptions
and allow civilization’s animations.

Only underwear and socks will be everywhere
and cause tempers to flair.
sounds good to me,
let’s start living life fair!

~
Lizzie Heart

 

 

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Deadline for POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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DEPRESSION 101, Poetry by Lydia Lockett

It’s hard to cope as a victim of crimes
Now my anger’s and pain is so intertwined
I’m thoroughly pissed….
And I’m not easy to assist
‘Cause I don’t trust those motha’ fuckin’ therapists

Genre: Rhyme, Life, Depression

DEPRESSION 101 by Lydia Lockett

I owe my psychiatrist $1500
I fell asleep on his couch

It’s hard to cope as a victim of crimes
Now my anger’s and pain is so intertwined
I’m thoroughly pissed….
And I’m not easy to assist
‘Cause I don’t trust those motha’ fuckin’ therapists

I don’t want to waste time in sessions
Making them laugh ease to their depression
‘Cause that’s what how I’m made…
I perform and they get paid

While I don’t have the bus fare
To get there
And I walk to the clinic
And I wait till the others are finished

And the clinician
He’s no magician
He’s a dealer of prescriptions

The agony still plagues my mind
Only this time
I got his bullshit added to the line
Of never-ending torments

Like those who commit suicide
Or deal with oppression and genocide
And hunger and corruption
And this motha’-fucka’ don’t recognize
That people are suffering in front of his eyes
But he don’t care
He’s self-satisfied

What he prescribes
May keep us alive
But he don’t realize
We need to be happy and free
However he don’t agree

On his wall, he’s got a doctor’s degree
In society, he’s got respect in the community
But in reality,
He’s got hookers paid by some drug companies
While his therapy lacks validity
And we’ve got nothing to eat
And go 3 weeks with 6 bags of tea

We’ve got a functional disability
We’re not in the norm
He’s the only one who will fill out the fuckin’ forms
We start to wish we were never born

He’s perceptive, he asks;
“Why do you look so forlorn?
What’s bothering you the most?”
I look him straight in the eyes and say;
“Refer to your notes”

The Prozac obliterates your libido
So sex is no longer on your mind
You don’t fix yourself up
You don’t take the time

And when you see a love scene on T-V
You think, “People are still into that?
It’s so passé!”
And then you re-member how horny you used to be
Just yesterday.

You start to think about procreation
And how the hell are you gonna fit into that equation?

And then you find out that someone you know just did it
He didn’t write a note to make it official
He just put the gun to his temple
He kept it simple

Charlatan doctors
Made money off his pain
Backed by the government
This happens again and again

Suffering to pay their bills is not our worth
That is not why we were put on this earth.
Sometime, somebody’s got to put your interests first

Are we just unlucky?
Or have we been cursed?
And no one understands or gives a damn
How much it hurts

I should never have walked into his office
I should have quit when I was ahead
This brings me to the conclusion
That many people think
They are better off dead.”

I talk about depression
Attack the repression
Illustrate the mind set
Redirect the thunder

So if you find out, one day, G-d forbid
That somebody you know just killed them self
You may not have to wonder!

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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Bewildered. Poetry by Janice Gomez

Dim street light

Creatures of the night

Critters floating on the sidewalk

Passing pollution of toxic talk

Driving for stares of attention

Dazed body performing without apprehension

Genre: Society, Rhyme

Bewildered by Janice Gomez

Dim street light

Creatures of the night

Critters floating on the sidewalk

Passing pollution of toxic talk

Driving for stares of attention

Dazed body performing without apprehension

Wrinkling inside destroying all purity

Dressed and laced covered with nudity

Timid to escape the lifestyle that is created

Vision of explorations for the mind to be sedated

Passed out as the sun blazed

Numb and awareness in a dazed

Starve for food and the next pleasurable

Standing by highways with labeled signs for a charitable

Can there be intervention?

Before another life heads to the next dimension?

At one time they were reputable…

Now, the darkness of rapidly hurt is inevitable.

 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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Beaten Path. Poetry by Naseha

Song on my lips, dust on my boots, and dark night around me I take a moment;
A moment to look around as I travel the worlds unknown.
My Arabian horse – Lester, smiles at me in the light on the lantern, we are lost again
In the dense of the mossy thick forest, echoing with wing’s drone.

Genre: Rhyme, Reflective, Philosophical, Hope, Romantic

Beaten Path
by Naseha
http://www.naseha.world

Song on my lips, dust on my boots, and dark night around me I take a moment;
A moment to look around as I travel the worlds unknown.
My Arabian horse – Lester, smiles at me in the light on the lantern, we are lost again
In the dense of the mossy thick forest, echoing with wing’s drone.

The yellow parchment of my dog eared tanned leather bounded sweaty dairy;
Which I so lovely call my logs, is eagerly waiting for my ink and quill
The stars speak, the midnight has passed, I pack away the day,
As I decrease the flame, from my mouth, see the creeping wet chill

Lester is snoring; peaceful with the mossy air of forgotten foggy forest trail
After a month and half in desolated the parched land of dust
The spirit in me, forces me out of my cozy cottage filled with aroma of mushroom
To take on the paths not known, under star, sun, or fog, walk I must

Lester, my trench coat, my log, my quill as my companion, I travel to embrace
The mist of the height, the thirst of stark, the lead of unseen brook
The tame of terrain wild, the serenity of the rushing gale, warmth breath of trees
Old, knotty, patchy, all safely, frozen for eternity, in pages of my book

Off the beaten path, away from comfort of known souls, under the Canopus
On creaking, dry mattress of a thousand yellow, green, and red
Occasional ease of the stained bedding in a lonely Inn on a highway, lit by single lantern
I give in to the insanity in me, to find, to seek, on virgin gravels to tread

I close my eyes as I walk, to lose the known paths, in getting lost in terra incognita
Only then can I chance upon inebriation of charting the chartless in rife
Maybe with few silver coins in the pocket, no mansion to pass on, but richer by far
Lived a million lives with each unsung path, I chart in chronicles of my roving life

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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