Last Commented Inspirational Poems (4,952)

See the world through brand new eyes.
This happens when you realize
That you have lived ‘til now a lie.
The thought that you were only “I”.

You live, my friend, in every thing.
You are the song the bird does sing,
The flower, and the drop of dew…
All share the thing that makes you You.

Forget the body with its aches,
For it’s the greatest of mistakes
To touch the skin and think it’s real,
Because its surface you can feel.

What’s truly real is what does last,
And lives now eternal, not in the past.
The part of you that’s true and whole?
This is what you call the soul.

You hear a whisper in your ear
But the voice at first, it is not clear.
Who is that speaking to me there?
Can I believe this? Do I dare?

This is a voice that came with you.
It was there inside you as you grew.
And walk it does now, at your side,
For in your soul it does reside.

Your soul itself it is the source
Of this ever-present, guiding force
That speaks to you in whispers soft
And gives you guidance ever oft’.

But do you listen as you should,
And do its bidding, as it would?
We ask you now to heed this voice.
Yes, knowing you do have a choice.

The voice of Spirit does not err,
And for your peace does truly care.
But you must listen well, my dear,
If this voice you are to hear.

Be not stubborn. Yes, give in,
And heed the words you hear within.
They come with love; they come to heal.
For God’s great wisdom they reveal.

Be real is back in full poetic mode,
(And resolves to write a stanza per day)*,
Now off the drink, his verse is no more slow'd,
By hangovers, (which caused him much dismay);-
A poetic castle - his fair abode,
(And he wouldn't have it any other way);
So get ready, now, for another spiel;-
From the CS poet called lovecanbereal.

That's, to say, (of course), me, myself, and I;
It's why I voice my verse in the first person,
So you can have confessional poetry;
(Yes, indeed, that's what I voice my verse in);
As memories are drawn from my mind's eye;
And I'll not let the alcoholic curse win;
I now address the world and my fine nation;-
With verses that are fit for publication.

I've lived a life that I don't regret;
Does anyone read poetry today?
To write this down, before I just forget;
Another soul that dies and fades away;
For modern times you must have a vignette;
Readers wouldn't have it another way;
Attention span is short now - like our dreams;-
Getting shorter, all the time - or so it seems.

I would that I could write here with more space;
Although I must abbreviate my verse;
Maintaining rhyme, integrity, and grace;
Is brevity a modern poet's curse?
The outline of my story, I must trace;
To tell the truth for better, or for worse;
That's if I - (your poet and narrator);-
Can remember all that happened then, and later.

And just what is it, I will write of next?
Well, subjects - they are many - and incredible;
When I was young, I was quite highly sexed;
(Although I am now, these days, more cerebral);
And at peace with myself - no longer vexed;
By the things on this earth labeled 'terrible';
By being happy with what one does have;-
I'll never be, no more, just passion's slave.

Casting off the chains - alcohol and dr*gs;
And ev'ry morning, now, my mind does thank me;
Before, I'd down the glass to lees and dregs;
John Barleycorn would sneak up then and tank me;
Then crawling on the floor, passed out on rugs;
Before the morning's black coffee would crank me;
To a new day's destruction overwrought;-
If I had money, then alcohol I bought.

The anecdotes will still flow from my pen;-
My indiscretions make compelling muse;
Back and forwards in time 'tween now and then;
For I've gone and lit the poetic fuse;
Improvements in perception of my ken;
Makes for verse that no reader can refuse;
I'll tell of instances of impropriety;-
Now crystallized in mem'ry, by sobriety.

So Bereal's been sober, now, for a year;
Never will he waver, or relapse;
Not touching whisky, wine, or a beer;
That brought him close, to a state of collapse;
His mind works best without boozes' veneer;
In a heatwave, he may have an ale, perhaps;
But only for emergency hydration;-
Of fluids, lost by heat, in this hot nation!**



© lovecanbereal
All rights reserved

To reach a goal that no one knows, To think the unthinkable but watch it grow, To reach a level unimaginable to the naked eye, But what is pleasurable to the natural mind. To strive to be alive oh what a time to be alive all I want to do is Strive!

Put on your top hat, you are the star, the ring master, how long, how far,
Let the clowns come in, let the fun begin, see the balancing act, trapeze if you
please, sugarcane tastes so good as the magician weaves his spell, will the tightrope
walker fall?, who can tell, the dancers will have danced, and you will be….entranced,
as the tight rope walker ends the show, it’s time for you to go!

The quotes garden – Prologue
*** If I could write... ***

“I could write the many things I wish to say,
Here, now, just to enchant your mind
And then, to delete all I wrote, in the next day,
Just to show you that was nothing written yesterday,
As one was blind...

I could write the many things I like to do,
In quick phrases, to satisfy your curiosity, today,
But later, I will erase all the words I wrote you,
And all you'll see will be a clear background, grey...

I could write a lot of words, describing myself,
Just to show how interesting one sure can be,
As there a silence, will find its way within yourself
And leave your voice to solve that mystery...

I could write you a collection of books with my life,
Just to show the beauty of Life,
But right after that, I will burn those books,
Cos the complex words are nothing to me, - nor the hooks;

Behold! Thy Art within the simplest ones,
The tones which thrives the Life within!..
Where odes of truths, derived tons
Of suns and moons, to let you in!
Behold! Which seed hath lore to find,
Where tides of dreams, through what began
A Life, or Death?.. Which Heart? What Mind?
Thy oceans filled of bliss, in world of man…”

©Th3Mirr0r

Without dark there can be no light,
How can we exist, if we are always right?
For good to be known there must be bad,
For happiness there must be sad,
True reality could never be,
If all we wanted was what we
wanted to see,
To live in constant light, devoid of night,
how boring that would be.

The Quotes Garden - I – Was upon a time..

“When the sun embraced the moon
In the shadows, over lights,
When the calling of the loon,
Cried again, in silent nights,
There was written on a rune
How a poet stays and writes
All the things which often strewn
Waves of life, over the heights –



And our story, thus begins
With a poet and his muse,
As my verses quickly spins
Sweeping words, inside a cruse –
And the riddles, like some pins,
In the waves of life, to choose
Fairy dust, in wind and fins...”


©Th3Mirr0r