Most Viewed Free Verse Poems (29,539)

Walking down my road one day I see a little tree,
It seems so lost and alone, it reminds me of… me,
Not really having a place in this world, not knowing what to do,
But sure to grow up big and strong, this I know is true,
Feeling small and in the way of everyone around us,
Seeming like a pesky insignificant piece of dust,
Finally growing up into a beautiful adult,
Realizing that everything that happens is not always our fault,
Knowing that no matter what we have a place on this earth,
If we didn’t why would god have made us from his hearth?
Apparently we have a reason for being created,
But right now we’ll just have to wait and try to not feel jaded,
None of us can tell the future and find out what’s to be,
We can’t unlock the door to it with a little key,
That little tree reminded me of who and what I am,
That every thing on this earth has its life planned.

Your eyes on me
my eyes in yours
kiss me
forked lightning
hot and white
sky to earth...

Root of flowers
soars from earth
beneath our feet
outside a tree in bloom...

Our garden
our hearts
flutter

We rebuild
shattered trust...

We met in Newtown* 'twas a dinner party
At St Peters* I kissed you in a lane
My head was swimming and I felt swoon dizzy
Now both of us had made our feelings plain.
The fount of love had over flowed with plenty
And I could see that now you felt the same; -
From there was only one place then to head
That was quickly - to my room - and into bed.

Your hair fell down - in soft cascades all over
White shoulders - in lovely jet black rivulets
I felt a need - as a young man - to take cover
Amid those tresses - and longed just to forget
My childhood pain - taking you my lover
Your alabaster skin - there's no regret-
We found our selves lost in a private fancy
And for a time found sweet intimacy.

Now chasing this affection our young days
I was twenty two - you twenty seven
For three months every day sweet love we made
Something innocent there was - close to heaven -
If there were others - then they were betrayed
Whatever that we had now had to happen -
First now at my place - and then at yours -
Fantastic love was writing its own laws.

First at St Peters where we couldn't stop
What we had started there the night before
You stayed three days and I could no more hope
To stay what others may at first deplore
And after this it seems we must elope
Bound for your flat in Crows Nest* and some more; -
Becoming now our bower in the city
This love some never know - and mores the pity.

Your figure full - an hourglass perfect made
Your eyes as soft as mist with a moist dew
Reclining on your couch in dark brocade
That was when we found what lovers knew
In ages gone before us - now not delayed
Trust not known to many - perhaps a few
To tie a lover's knot and make real a fantasy-
Swimming in the ocean of our destiny.

Half Irish, half Maori, and all beautiful
That's when I loved your body and its curves -
Loves rich bounty now becoming plentiful
In floods of passion where we lost ourselves.
Sweet recollections still are bountiful -
As cradled within time your memory dwells -
Those feelings that encompassed sweet delight -
Where we lost ourselves to love most ev'ry night.


© lovecanbereal
All rights reserved

First seen, was wandering round the woods
Abandoned, left to die
How could a person be so bad
Sometimes I wonder why

When found neglect had settled in
His body worse for wear
Starvation played an awful part
And also lack of care

He struggled just to walk around
Collapse was on its way
His bones were there for all to see
From lack of food each day

But still he had a little strength
To up and run away
When people tried to get a hold
And rescue him that day

It really was a lucky thing
That he was found that day
If he had not, the poor young thing
Might soon had passed away

He must have known how bad it was
From how he acts since then
Won't let nobody get near him
No matter where or when.

But now he's in the hands of Paul
A man who really cares
Who'll make him look like other
Lovely stallions and mares

He'll clean him up and feed him well
And comfort he will give
He'll build him up so before long
He'll have the strength to live

And soon he'll get back to the days
Of grazing, mind at ease
Without a care in the world
That thought is sure to please

Then come the time to find a place
That he can call his home
A place where he can live his life
With fields where he can roam

The search is on, to find that place
An owner will be found
Who really cares, who'll take the time
This person is around

Who'll take him to a comfy home
That person he'll believe in
And he will be their gracious steed
Oh yes, his name is Steven

In the Persian tradition, whenever one faces a difficulty or a fork in the road, Or even if one has a general question in mind, one would hold that question in mind, and then ask the Oracle of Shiraz
Hafiz
for guidance.

More often than not,
Hafiz, in his own enigmatic way would sing to the questioner and through the song, would get the questioner to look in the mirror of his/her soul.
Upon reflection in the mirror of Hafiz's Ghazal one would be inspired with an answer, a guidance or a direction.

Traditionally,
the first line upon which the eyes of the reader fall, would give the answer to the direct question, and the rest of the Ghazal would give further clarification.

To try the guidance of
the oracle of Shiraz
Hold a question in your mind

&Click on the button below
to have your Fal:

I once had a bag of monkeys
They were mostly well behaved
Until - one day - I took them to the racetrack
(Where quite a few of them escaped!)

One of them he
Went up a tree
And would not come down again
I waited for a long time
Until I could wait no longer
And I had to walk away

Another got onto a stable roof
And sat there taunting me
Then disappeared out of sight
(I heard him laugh with glee)

Then yet another
(Encouraged by the others)
Leaped from the sack
And made good his getaway

He jumped onto an old man's hat
And from there to a penciller's shoulder
Then hid inside a bookie's bag
(This only made him bolder)

(There were only a few left now
And they wanted to join their troupe)

"No way" (I said) "Settle down
That's enough mischief for today"
"Please" (they said) "Now let us out -
For we only want to play!"

"Maybe" (I said)
"But It seems that I
Cannot trust you lot at all-
Based on what I've seen today"

"Besides you've set my nerves on edge,
So now I need a beer -
(And by the way, am I the only one,
Who's thinking clearly here?")

"Fair enough" - the monkeys said
(As I took them to the bar)
"But can we have a drink as well-
As we have come this far?"

"It would seem fair" (I said to them)
"But you must be well behaved"
"We'll all be good" (they said to me)
"We will not act depraved"

"OK" (I said) "Then I'll let you out-
Though you'll all
Have to settle down -
And only two at a time"

"For two is company
And threes a crowd
(As you lot well know)
So come and gather round"

Cautiously I opened the bag
And let the first two monkeys out
Then cheekily (one said to me)
"I think it is your shout"

"Water for you two only" ( I told them)
"You're bad enough as it is -
And if you don't entirely mind
Sit there and mind your biz"

No sooner had they got their drinks
Then one it jumped the bar!
He grabbed a bottle of champagne
And poured it in a jar

Of course I tried to stop him quick
But soon he drank the lot
Then he smashed all of the glasses
And started throwing sh*t!

Well security - they threw him out,
And he wound up in the car park
(That was the last I saw of him -
Even though I sent a scout)

The other one sat on his bar stool
And quietly sipped his water
Then all of a sudden he jumped up
And stole a lady's fascinator!

He put the thing on his head
And then ran round and round
Then he was off and on the track
(They could not pin him down)

Now embarrassed I sat quiet
And stared into my beer
Then I said to the last one in the bag
"Why on Earth did I bring you here?"

The last monkey in the bag
Well, then he said to me:
"I cannot vouch for my friends-
So can you please now set me free?"

"Sure," I said "Your welcome now-
And trouble I can do without"
With that, I upended the bag
And that last monkey - he jumped out!

(Moral of the story?):
Don't take too many monkeys to the racetrack.


© lovecanbereal
All rights reserved

Open my insides then fill me up with your lies
Tell me that you love me then rip my heart through my spine
Say that you'll always be there and then run far away
But a part of me was always certain that you'd never stay
First there was Megan an old friend I found on Face Book
Until a mutual friend said that she was a known prostitute
Then there was Janelle I knew her since the fourth grade
I knew that one day I'd love her but she moved far away
Then she came back a successful psychiatrist
But compared to her patients she was the absolute craziest
Then one night I met Micah at Elizabeth's house
I gave her a tattoo and that night we went out
We talked about mars, the moon, and the sky
For once in my life the galaxies were aligned
About after two weeks I was floating in bliss
She took my truck to the store, but first she gave me a kiss
Than after an hour I felt something was wrong
She still wasn't back I put the movie on pause
I began to call her, but only got her voice mail
At first I was angry, then hurt, and then scared
The next morning I woke up and to my dismay
My Nissan Frontier was still not in my drive way
Then I called the police and filed a stolen report
He said son are you stupid I said no Im a dork
I never would have thought she'd what what me in the butt
But Officer Goddammit shes gone and I just want my truck
Are there any nice women left on this forsaken earth
One who values our friendship and knows what she's worth
Ive been been single for years theres no more fish in the sea
The waters far too polluted and they've all grown webbed feet
Or maybe three arms, six toes, and two heads
Ive been swimming in this rotten filthy sea of the dead
Women possess me but they never are mine
Nice guys finish last, but Im still standing in line
So rip open my insides and fill me up with your lies
Tell me you love me then rip my heart through my spine
Say that you'll always be there to enlighten my day
But f*ck it no thank you I think I'll just stay away
And Ill write to my congress please clean up the reefs
Because its no longer safe for swimming and its filling with zombies

Jesse James Okoroshi Masu F

So it was only reflections,
In a driveway puddle
Frozen over with a skin of ice
On a crisp cold day
Even as flashes of
The sun shining bright
That I was thinking about you
Thinking about a warm fire
Its glowing embers snapping
Sparkling wine and red pasta
Sauce dripping off
My twirling fork
While running my fingers
Through your auburn hair

I used to be a writer; a little poetry by hand. A poet without the glitter; no audiance did i command. My messages were solely mine; a cummulation of my thoughts. Here and there little lines, and whatever comfort it brought. I was not the shakespear; i am who i am. These my writings, i shared, hoping if "one" would understand. Then my time was past; i wrote poems no more. Not even good poets last, muchless me, this simple bore. Yet you can make me great, reading my work through and through. Do so for this poet's sake; one who is infamous as you. Become a well known critic-: debate my work and its value. With comments from good to derelict; such helps my work shine-through. I am not the immortal; my body dead and gone. Make my work-:a living portal and byfaith a legend lives:- on!

There are many sounds
that resonate
throughout the
world..

Such as the rustling
of leaves on a
cool autumn
morning

A crashing surf
at which we gaze
in sleepy awe..

The sound of the
newborn as it
grasps for its
mothers breast

There's the roar
of the crowd in
its exuberation
for a winning
team

The cry of joy
and of loss

And there's the
sound of War..
that alien frequency
disrupting the
natural temper
of our minds

Yet, another sound
emerges from the
ashes of human
destruction-

A voice..that
whispers a sweeter
refrain than the
monotonous repetition
of shells vanquishing
an enemy

That voice..an eloquent
echo of a forgotton
soul..

Has no sound that
the warrior in
his arrogance
would heed

It is not a voice
that bellows with
mindless and
futile rants
reveling in its
conquests

It is the clarion
call of the human
heart..though
supressed for a
season

Speaks truth in
the spring
of hope

The poets voice
sounding like a
lamb

Flinches not in
the face of
the lion

And though time
witnesses a
thousand generations

The poet stands as
an oracle in the
haze..between what
is, and what shall
be

The poets voice..
Ready at the
watchtower

Sounding the bell

A bell..
Which only the
inheritors of
the earth can
hear.