Most Commented Poems (34,318)

The only thing that matters in this cursed dark universe...
Are things unseen in sick dark dreams that bring what surely hurts...
Invisible stars too far to reach elude me every time...
Dark matter is the element that can make your dark stars shine...


I love the feel of stardust when it falls upon my face...
I love to steal the taste you place in places of dark space...
I hate the feel of gravity when it pushes me away...
Away from you, my love so true, away from your embrace....

This haunted temple of mine inside is just a spirit prison...
Housing cold dark spirits that control my every thought...
I have not chosen these frozen and unholy written visions...
And though I'm blessed, I am a mess, and thoroughly possessed...

I would love to choose, the words I've used, to create a new tomorrow...
Ghosts inside have taken over and gotten the best of me...
I've lost control, of my sick soul, there's nothing left to borrow...
I can't compete, I'm incomplete, there's no love left just sorrow...

Exorcisms failed to force from where these demons roam...
Ghostly rebel spirits have now made me their new home...
An abduction of, who I once was, a pure and innocent child...
Ghostwriters in me, are obviously, the one's that wrote this poem....

Will you walk with me into forever
Holding my hands without time
We'll ride Halley's comet to the dark side of the moon
where you don't need air to feel alive

We can fly without wings over the Earth
Showering the planets with joy
Skipping from one star to the next
Until we reach the one I remembered as a young boy

It was the first one I saw when I was a child
The one shining so bright in the sky
And I made a wish as simple as this
I wished that I would be here with you in Heaven tonight

Will you come join me at the table
Of the universe sipping silver moon light
There is a trap door in the sun a quiet place just for us
Where our passion ignites fires to bring worlds to life

dreaming of you
is not much easier for me
you know?
like at night when I swim alone
in the ocean of my pain?
when my body shivers
feeling your breathing?
I stood up
headed to the kitchen-
struggled to find your ice cream!
I am concerned
I might go, drive in the rain
so I can please you
and then make love again?
and just as when
in a heartbeat you held my hand
your looks caressing my eyes
and as you bent down
to kiss my craving lips
the rising sun
beamed and woke me up

I am your prisoner,
that even in my sleep
you give me no room to rest
I can't stop thinking of you

what about you?
do you ever dream of me, too??

I shed no tears that have not already been wept
I make no promises that have not been kept
For if within my power I would give until I bleed
Flowers will only bloom from a tendered seed

Reaching out I know I can touch the skies
As my fingertips caress the tears in your eyes
I grab the blossom that in the wind flies
And the lonely Wolf no longer cries

For without you I am without myself
Gathering the dust upon that lonely shelf
Awaiting you to waken me from my slumber
And touch all the stars in their infinite number

Then take my hand and lead me into your life
For where you are my destiny lies rife
Those chains that bound us with dreaded fear
Lie broken, for even when you are far you are near

I grasp your soul as if it were my own
And it melts within mine for a single throne
Where the Universe becomes our kingdom
And Shaka Zulu cried the hail of freedom

For I am a part of you as you are part of me
Together we would not relinquish to be born free
We will not be forsaken as Ares and Aphrodite
For our desires are not those of the fallen mighty

Perhaps before the time for us was far too soon
For roses always seem to bloom best in June
When the piper's lips play that long lost tune
And dreams were not dreamt upon a Paper Moon

BLESSED BE!~
 
Equinox moon, rise in all your glory,
and with your rising, my emotions stir.
Upon your face, there unfolds such stories,
which speak of my ancestors...things that were.
 
Somewhere, there must be a book of knowing,
guarding the silence of forgotten needs.
Time-worn, musty, fragile pages,
embracing ancient secrets, hopes and deeds.
 
The face of the moon speaks of the olds ways;
the wisdom of those found on distant shores.
They who knew the land, the forests and fields.
I see misted lakes and a boatman’s ores.
 
I feel their lifted hearts fiercely dancing,
gathered for Ostara’s celebration.
The returning of the light from winter’s dark;
‘tis a time of hope and expectation.
 
The circle of life in each tiny seed,
stirs in the womb of thawing mother earth.
Comes the loving rains and the blessed sun;
from this sacred union is spring...her birth.
 
I speak to the moon of my ancestors
and my beating heart that calls out to them.
I light my candle to honor what was,
as the wind shares their voices...with me...once again.

From a far distance I traced the city outline
Watching it become a shadow as the sun starts to fall behind
I elevate my mind beyond the highest peaks
Thats where temptation wanders and the devil begins to speak to me
Sometimes I listen and other times I glow
Something like a halo but its the noose that tries to break my bones
Searching through the chaos just to find some peace
I try to spread my wings but gravity wont let me leave
I found inspiration somewhere along the interstate
Something about the sunset I know one day will lead me to my grace
I met a woman named Faith but her face I could not see
It was tattooed and scarred with stitches where her eyes once use to be
She wore a tattered white dress yellowing from mold
She opened up her hands and her eyes were sewn into her palms
One showed me heaven and the other one showed me hell
Overwhelming my conscious mind and my soul began to spill
At the speed of thought the dead and broken started pulling me down
Unwilling to let my earthbound body to escape this shaky ground
But if this is my heaven and hell then I have the choice to leave
To separate myself from unholy wars and rewrite the pages of my destiny


~ JJF ~

Can you see us bent over kitchen tables
And our pencil's warm erasers
As we pour our hearts into liquid words upon the lowly page?
Can you see us stopped in parking lots;
Searching for scraps among the floorboards,
Then, with pen to note, we scratch a word to show a life, a love, and age?

We who fight with nature
Never searching, always believing,
We strive against cold, heat and drought to keep the wolves from the door...
But the battle seems wan in comparison
To the war with words we wage,
As we seek to convey a thought, a poem to live and last forevermore.

Why, we were fine and fancy...
No cares beyond the gate
Our only worries keeping calves alive and shipping them eight months later.
Until we tasted immortality
On this life's stage or 'round a campfire
And you, who come to read our words, became the instigator

So we take it all in and write it down
In between the endless chores
Amazed and honored that there are people who read and listen and seem to care
We try to make you laugh and cry
In portraying all we really savvy
And somehow make it all of value and something worthy to share.

Most give little thoughts to such an act
This trying to capture in ink a sunset
When an artist or a photographer can hardly succeed at such a task
Without film or paint or music
Armed with only our imaginations
We connect the dots and record our lives
Our future and our past.

Thus we dance with you as partners
In this waltz of verse and lingo
As long as you continue to listen, we'll try to get it right
With words that bind us close together
Transcending time and borders,
For we are the poets
And you are the reason we write.

I heard the rattle in my throat
That distinctive sound
Of gargling with shotgun pellets
Aunt Mavis knew what it meant
She had heard it all before
Forty years in the chicken factory
Had taught her a thing or two

But I didn’t bother to pass
Best that I just ignore it
Pearly gates never did anything for me
That’s the trouble with Atheism
You are just stuck in the middle
Looking up or down
But nowhere really to go

The milkman once said to me
Son, always be prepared
For what lies on the other side
I wasn’t sure what he meant
So I crossed the busy road
Still holding the four leaf clover
I had stolen from the dead man's hand
And clutching the St Christopher
Aunt Mavis swore would keep me safe
Forty years in the chicken factory
Had taught her a thing or two

They was advertised at the store
Death rattles for sale
Buy one, get one free
Why would you ever want two?
When one would always be
Much more than sufficient
Still, better to be safe than sorry

I recall my life as an unfinished book
I gently caress the chapters that you took
It reflects on my history, what is past
But does it continually grow, when the die is cast

It is no exciting odyssey, it tells a pathetic story
It twists and turns, but has no glory
Many pages are written, some lie half full
Awaiting completion from the fool

I am no mystery, I am no enigma
I wrote the words, created my stigma
Some are dark, and some rest blank
Many are inane in empty space they sank

There are no pictures, I possess no palette
Some tell your dreams, crushed by my selfish mallet
Some pages to forget, some perhaps to remember
Telling of my existence from birth to ember

Some tell of great sadness and past sorrow,
Wishing at times there be no tomorrow
Would that I could erase the pages of pain
But I wrote the script, the hopes I have slain

My book of self justice, my meaningless account
Can only be measured by me, for myself is all I flout
My book has changed me, I am no longer unbending
But somebody else will have to write the ending