Newest Free Verse Poems (29,541)

Tell me, Tell me, of thine Splendor
Grant reward, that I Might Do
Tell me of: what I'd Remember
Had I your thought, of remembering You
Take my grief and held back Tears
And all the woes I've long Carried
Bury it deep with all of my Fears
Hide it well that it stays Buried
Tear from me the woes of Grieving
Give me cause to born a Smile
Rid me of this anger Seething
Make it worth a lasting While
Tear from me oh Timing's Tension
Grant the Sight to be Reborn
Castaway falls from mine Ascension
Heal me of resentment's Scorn
Break the chains that ever bind Me
To the past of unjust Woes
Take the Liberty and make me Free
Heal the wounds of rejection's Blows
Lift me up, unto thine Splendor
Give me the reason a breath to Take
Hold Steadfast that I'd Remember
Reasons greater for what's at Stake
Be unto me through all of mine Senses
The light of Promise in what will Come
Rid me of the walls and Fences
Assets none, not worth the Sum
At the end of any tunnel's Way
Show me a light or something More
Give me a Sound Mine Ears to Say
You are the Tide of my Spirit's Shore
Shake me gently from depression's Hiss
That I may walk with you Hand-in-Hand
Show me with thine gentle Kiss
That I for you am a worthy Man
Yet take me not to the cliffs of Empty
To Abandon me there to mine last Fall
Do no tease just to Tempt Me
Leaving me to a Soundless Call
For all thine Hours, Days, and Weeks
Be unto me What I'd desire
Give the reason to our blushing Cheeks
Sweating with me in Serenity's Fire
Yet make no haste for an end in Shame
Bearing us both more, the wasted Life
Manipulation, Tug-of-Wars, the Game
Furthering more of a burden's Strife
Be real with me in perfect Glory
In all you Do, unto me be True
Can you make with me the perfect Story
Are you the one to Say I Do
Matters not who fell the Most
Or who hath worn the greatest Frowns
Or who for pain would ever Boast
If in the end, we were both like Clowns
Hiding what we felt Inside
Whilst wearing masks to Entertain
Arguing in circles, The Griever's Stride
Looking for someone else to Blame
Let not this be what we Are
or what we ever could Become
From now eternal to Afar
Let things like this remain Undone
Demand of me what you Will
If I am within, in perfect Smile
If this Storm, you've made it Still
If for you I am worth the While
Can you accept how I Look
Can you stomach when I Snore
Can you look past this weathered Book
And take me as I am and More
Or a ruined Chapter for you, shall I Be
In a Collection of dusted Books Unread
A Poorly written Life to Plea
A cause unknown and left for Dead
Or will I be the Plight that Reckons
Within you a spark of hope Again
A Prayer questioned, An answer that Beckons
In me your Lover, your Eternal Friend
Tis up to you, mine efforts Spent
I've grown weary and Tired of Lust's Race
Twas never that path from whence I came or Went
That Song's not mine, nor is that Chase
Secrets plenty I've shared a Few
Yet not for pity or some arrogant Stance
The rest like colors of a portraits Hue
The Shaken hand of a Painter's Trance
On the canvass of all Pretenders
A painting unfinished in the Mind
Will you wonder what he Remembers
As you think of love in me to Find
Or will you be like so many Others
Lost for greed or selfish Pride
Detested by all Sisters and Brothers
For some Financial Security a Blanket to Hide
To find a cause to outrun your Own
Will you be fake to your own Reflection
As if colder than a frozen Stone
That you may hide your own Rejection
Or will you reject all that comes your Way
Scoffing at others deeply in Love
Turning from the night and Day
Yourself to hate, to push, and Shove
As long as intimacy remains in Sight
Yet not too close, unworthy you Feel
Expectations too many, to see the Light
Of what in me, for you, could be Real
Many others like a mindless Hive
Will you make reasons to Ignore
Whilst faking love-for-lust to Survive
Always knowing you deserve More

The Expressivity of the bloom is captured within the strain of the Blossoming Rose. A Melancholic hue fills the foyer of my mind as I tease my transfixed stare with the temptations of pressing upon the thorns a bit harder with each passing stroke as I caress the stem of the Rose. Each leaf dangling there slowly losing its life as it gives all that it has left for the life of what’s more than just a flower. And in my baneful selfishness I contemplate the idea of being in control as I press harder upon the thorns as I contemplate the girl, I am about to give this Rose to. Like the wick of an old lantern that holds what oil is left within it My hope for satisfying her every desire steadily burns within me yet to an end that will come at a time unknown. Yet like the wrecking ball that tears through structures to make way for new foundations courage beckons me to think not of the thorns or the temptations to earn the right of giving, by bleeding there upon them, I am swayed into a luring motion of handing the rose out to her awaiting her quick yet soft embrace of its profound beauty. In my mind the Rose crumbles to dust and ash. Yet in my hand it remains intact ever so vibrant in its warming majestic glow, of Natures endless words, of a love unspoken. And I with trembling knees extend my arm and hand, the Rose leaning towards her as if it was thirsting for the light of the sun. Yet I am poor and can't afford to buy a rose, so I go and pick a Dandelion instead. What Love I have I'd long to give, if I could but afford that which would by grace express it. And then with a saddened repose I swallow my saliva as if it were a melancholic wine to savor, for I hath no one to give the Dandelion to for the girl I'd long to love I had only imagined. Was I a fool for the imagery or a romanticist for the motions? I felt grieved with resentment for it was pointless to pick the Dandelion. Yet for some reason I began to smile as I realized the Dandelion carried within it many many seeds to spread forth its life anew: or maybe, I could just kiss her hand.

You may see him standing,
In the white glare of the Sunlight,
On wind-blasted panes of ice;-

A Winters' Sea compressed,
To float across the salty emptyness.

Now the Bear stands as a symbol;-
As solar light returns to white;-

Above a lattice artifice,
A crazed and crumbling edifice;-
The ice floes crashing to the sea,
From all the melting glaciers.


© lovecanbereal
All rights reserved

Swan Song

It's a very old story.
Seems to happen
when someone confuses
wanting to be loved
with being in love.

You wanted me to love you.
I obliged.
Then, joyously
you set about
building for me
a lovely cage,
polishing the image
you would to see
of me,
encouraging always
my approach
of your ideals.

But you never loved me as I am.
nor saw me as I was.
You kept your vision focused
instead
on how you wanted me
to be.

I have slept
a very long while,
but my dreams
will not lay down,
and I've wakened,
strangely wearied.
I long to be seen and loved
as I am
and I want you
to be well and happy--
because I still love you
just the way you are
even
as
I leave you.

Copyright Cailin J Callaghan 1996 Revised, 2023
All rights reserved

September
how many memories you will carry to me
just while a fresh air envelops me
I get a flying tear in the wind
it will talk to me about young summers and springs gone by
You know I bear a pain inside
it will talk to me about young nights full of starry skies and broken hearts
September yes I can remember
it's a sad thought about going out stars so ending nites at the dawn of a new day
it will talk to me about a beginning of a new life
the leaves fall the air is colder
the incoming snow storm will not scare me September you will not stop me
you arrived right now.. but can't say how
you are already so far away from me, take away my pain
now I know I have not loved in vain

A moment, captured in time.

She has lines of worry and stress,
Her eyes clouded and sad.

And yet, in that moment so many years ago, the lines were of laughter and her eyes sparkled with hope, looking at the beautiful baby in her arms.

A moment, forever printed for the world to see.

His eyes show the sorrows of being alone, his hands show how hard he worked.

And yet, in that moment in print, His eyes hold the pride of being a dad, his strong arms and hands hold his son high with joy.

How precious is that moment in time, when we no longer have the subject, but only get to hold the print.

Remember to live, love, laugh and take a photo.

My dad was in the Navy
He went to Italy and Iceland
He served from 1954 to 1958
He didn't like Iceland because it was so dark part of the year
He regretted not staying in
Especially when his company cancelled his retirement pension in 1981
At the time he made his decision he was making good money
Better than he got paid in the Navy
How was he supposed to know the unions would get creamed
He is not alone
Sadly, many veterans don't get the support they should have
I hope that could change
Maybe next year
We will elect a president who really cares about these people
As much as they care about all of us

People, what is happening to us?
Conscience under anesthesia,
And the souls have gone blind
Every day there is less and less
Honor,
Less and less light

We're going with the flow
And our hope fades
We're burning down
Filling our emptiness
With fragments of faith.

I'm standing on the edge of the abyss
And my scream breaks
The vanity of existence
Turning melancholy into words.

Seldom since the morning glory
Glistened in the sunny glow
When dew has largely turned
To frost the first we such know

The season come the season go
There’s little time left this year
Days grow short nights grow long
Once thing stands up so clear

Snow flurries fall on days so grey
Which covers evenly on the ground
Leaves have fallen and limbs left bare
Only the wind makes some sound

Here we’ve arrived and here we go
The end of autumn and start of winter
The stacks of wood piled so neatly
The kindling all chopped to splinter

People are coming
And leaving our life
Just like trains...
Hypocritical ones and real,
For a moment , like playing games...
Some will go deep
Into your soul
Whilst the others
Are like a going away smoke...
Coming... leaving...
Both leave a mark
In your heart.
But one day
When some of them
Will knock into your door
You will quietly say-
Sorry, there is no space
For you anymore.....