Newest Free Verse Poems (29,538)

In a blind pursuit of forgotten dreams
I lay to rest upon a mountain beside silver streams

There was a day I believed and thought I could not be deceived
It was just a matter of how life was perceived

Today I sit in darkness watching the sands of time slip away so gracefully across the dunes while the eagle sings his tune Looking upon the horizon there is a distant sea perhaps filled with legends and tales of mystery

Time waits for no one yet seems to be for all eternity when looking at the stars as we sit to count our emotional scars

Love touches all with its gentle healing call
Yet, often is misunderstood and causes many to rise and fall

A fool says in his heart he preaches his undying love and will stand by you til death you part
Yet, a mere shift in the spiritual winds he chases after his folly while counting his sins

How much must a fool lose from his own ruse that nobody is no longer amused?

When all is no longer funny and life is not so sweet as honey and the days are not so sunny

There comes a time of self reflection and introspection
and to account for one's personal affections to those we call friend

Those who are hardest on us the most care more than we can measure because they see our true hidden treasure

For all who seek but, never seem to find while they perceive life as so unkind
Perhaps where the problem lies
is where we focus our eyes and mind as we continue the same old grind

Yet, if we tend to grow tired of crying the same old song that has fallen to deaf ears
perhaps we must focus more in wiping away the tears and put away our fears and work harder for better years

Nobody owes us love nor is it given for free
There is a price to pay to walk into the ferry as the boatman silently laughs to our demise while we ponder where we will be led to stay for the rest of our lives

Though we all have something in common that keeps us human
We all came into this life pretty much the same way
We all will have to leave it one day

The time in-between we must make it count regardless of how the games are played
The question we must ask is how do we want to be remembered when we enter the eternal slumber?

HOW CAN GOD BLESS AMERICA
WHEN MY CHOSEN PEOPLE HAVE ELECTED IN
FRAUDULENT AND SATANIC FORCES TO GOVERN?
HIS BLESSINGS PROMISED TO ABRAHAM AND
TO THIS HOLY LAND, CAN NO LONGER ENDURETH
THE LAND CANNOT BE POLUTED WITH SUCH LIES,
FRAUD, EVIL, AND COVERUP SCHEMES ANY LONGER THEY HAVE REJECTED MY LAWS
"THE COMANDMENTS OF GOD"
THEIRFOR I WITH SMITE THEE
WITH DISEASE AND PESTILENCE
"IF MY PEOPLE WHICH ARE CALLED BY MY NAME,
SHALL HUMBLE THEMSELVES, PRAY AND SEEK MY FACE
AND TURN FROM THEIR WICKED WAYS,
THEN I WILL HERE THEE FROM HEAVEN
AND WILL HEAL THEIR LAND"

seduction
white hot
metal draining
tango

kiss my shoulder
breathe
arch
percussive shock

spoke tight
flesh to press
blade sharp
milonguero

True love
Can be likened to a comfortable pair of slippers
They go together
But don't quite fit
Having room to grow

They may show signs of wear over time
But are too comfortable
And familiar to throw away

Best kept in pairs.

Peter Dome.copyright. Romanticaman

dusk on the red ferry
rain in the tenements
a woman in a patchwork dress
laughing with her son
fire escape jazz

blue harbor fog
cranking of street cars
while the newsboys
shout and holler
post cards on a wall

which brings us to the case of
the pear vs the fashion estate
a fruit unfairly marginalized
by a corruptible culture
wielding the maxim
of busty top and
narrow waist

this then in praise
of your resolute resistance
my little friend
you have not yielded
as the celery capitulated
and the rhubarb crumbled
bulbous to the end
shout it loud from the fruit bowls
you can take our trees
but you will never take our freedom!

‘Twas a foggy foggy morn
Down by the harbour wall
A ships mast appeared
Lurking ghostly and tall
Out through the mist
A canoeist appeared
Striving for perfection
His style all but revered
Out to the horizon
Where I thought it to be
A sun was on the rise
Trying to break free
But the fog was the master
In this story being told
It’s depth like a glue
Just taking its hold
And just when I thought
I couldn’t see any more
A shaft of light broke through
I could not ignore
It reflected off the water
In a shimmering way
A circle of blue and silver
What words could I say
Astounded at the beauty
That blessed me that day
I reached for my pencil
For words to portray ………

Please tell me sommelier
Is there in your wine list
Such a wine, where
There is a taste of rain
And taste of sun light,
A bit of childish joy,
A bit of sadness
And aftertaste of youth?
No madam, I regret ,
We don't have such bouquet,
The only i can offer you
Is vodka

Hey Siri!
Why is your mamma so fat?

-My mother?

I have been playing with this application since yesterday
It is fun
It doesn't have any answers for if there is a god, bigfoot, or aliens
About half the time it gives written answers from the web
And doesn't say the answer
Is it listening to me?
It wouldn't answer that one either

Laid back, lazy
resting
T-shirt and panties
sweat-moistened
clinging

The fan oscillates
pushing warm air around
silken caresses stroking my legs
like feathers

While I listen to the sultry
George Michael crooning to
the plucking of cello strings
as he's kissing a fool

Shiraz on my mind
Whilst he sits in the freeze
on chill

The time has come
to BE STILL
a passage of bad timing

© April 27, 2018, L. Karriem