Most Commented Work Poems (218)

tattoo of a dove tells of true love,
one of a dagger bellows the hurt endured,
two of spades a gamblers life,
three blind monkeys tell of three dumb signs,
four of spades tells of great good luck,
a pot of gold shall reveal a green irish man ,
tattoo me up tattoo me up a story shall be told,
fading will tell the story of old and color shows us all the new hype,
bart or donald marked shows that a bad boy doth exist,
punky brewster or matilda on the wrist a sign a bad girl doth exist,
from cartoons to fish to the man on the moon these tattoos take their place as each and every one doth use some space,
when asked watch their face a smile can be seen from space as the
picture is a book a story to be told for good.

The game of life
Everyone is playing it
I'm going backwards
While everyone goes forward

Everyone is graduating
I'm just starting
Look at the marriages
I'm just graduating

Look at their cute little kids
I just got my first divorce
They just bought their house
I just got my first youngster

I can't play the game of love
Nor the game of life
It's all going by
I wish it wouldn't fly

Their life is perfect
I'm on my second marriage
Starting over
I need a redo

Big bad job
I just started
Big new home
Third marriage
I'm a little whore

Can't play the game of love
Nor the game of life
It's all going by
I wish it wouldn't fly

Distance won´t keep us apart...
Turn on that weird radio station!
i will be there with my art
Fulfilling you with inspiration
i will sing an unknown song
Waiting for your lovely ears
Maybe in Hong Kong
Countless years...
i have a southern heart
Full of imagination
Trying to restart...
Any happy situation
Please be more kind!
Consider my daily battle scar
i will enlighten your mind
Because i am a bright southern star

On mud-will days when malls about
All shake with trays
A shopper taps the wares
Warily ... lest someone cares

He wakes to the trill
Of a pneumatic drill
Puts on his boots
And climbs the hill

A quiet smoke
A quiet lunch
A quiet bloke
Waiting for the crunch

Oh hello welcome to the morning sun
Snick hug the night with them Light

At the moment all the meanings become whisper
The heart is steeped in the Sea Lance and pleasure

Eye reaction of sacrificed sleep yesterday
There is no doubt and I become Gabrha ?????

Oh hello big that wobble as planting
Zaza is not monkey at the time of Bakur

Welcomed by your spiritual self-aware
The preparation of the grade on the vine bird

Time to awake and create a substantial income for my family and mate
is there enough time to appreciate my faith which I took time to gather and make I had the patience to wait for my mate which we both had the patience and time for a family to create now if it's not preplanned pre-ordered our prearranged I have no time for such things I have some time but not much time may be a little time there's always next time but always on borrowed time when will I find the time. If it's not routine are work related it really seems that time is outdated we must take the time to understand the purpose
of the motivation that help us crack the surface of organizing our time to make time
to make what's oh so necessary not secondary to appreciate what we have and make legendary so it can always be timeless

september 11th, would be a day of work, a day of heat leaving your home in the suburbs, a day of finance, a day of trade, a day of business in the n,y. stock exchange, a day of happiness a day of pride until 5;45 am a plane collides, twin tower's a tower of fire a tower of fear, america's hit it's a terrorist scare, people are running people are yelling people in fear as the tower's are falling, just minutes later another plane grounded, american's crying on the fence that suround's it, the pentagon's been hit cracked to the ground as the fires burn hot on this horrible meltdown.the president in florida giving a speech to recieve a phone call of panic in n.y. streets this is true americas been hit check air force one this is no trick, the president got on his plane headed for nebraska america what a disaster shut down all dams airports and bridges americas safety is are only success

Under a harsh electric glare we wear ourselves out,
While the old lady sings of love, long lost.
Undulating fervour takes us to three,
In the morning, cold now,
you cling to me

hail so strong you chest feels the might of the cold,
rain so frequent its like your crying with long tear,
sun so bright it makes you smile all mornin,
engine sounds almost defen your eardums but free your hair to
glide within the wind,
letters wet leters dry parcels so big return them home,
long hours of work and pain in the legs but still you go on,
on and on like the warriors of past,
but yet you go on for your jobs almost done,
no more smiles no more crying no more wind ,
just the sound of your snoring on the pillow,
now your day is completed time to start new tomorrow mornin.

Some nights I don't get any sleep at all.
The words come and I must write.
I fit them together.
I hope they touch,
reach deep into ones soul,
And heart.
And make a
Small yet profound difference.
My words are created from within and
waiting to be born.
The words come and I must write.

Copyright 2011 John Yona