Here is a list of Most Liked Free Verse Poems written by members. Read poetry, post your own poems or comments. Poems on these pages are copyrighted © by the authors who entered them. Click here to post a poem.
One Heart.
Come sit by me
Come close In my arms
Feel a heart softly beating
Love's fire at It's heart
It will sing you a song
Love's melody plays
You are my Love
You are my heart's dream
I have but one heart
This heart I offer you
All Its Love
This Love for you
I see you In the morning
This one heart alive with Love
It sets our sun a shining
You are my true Love
You are my Angel
You own my one heart
Come close In my arms
Feel a heart softly beating
Love's fire at It's heart
It will sing you a song
Love's melody plays
You are my Love
You are my heart's dream
I have but one heart
This heart I offer you
All Its Love
This Love for you
I see you In the morning
This one heart alive with Love
It sets our sun a shining
You are my true Love
You are my Angel
You own my one heart
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2014
Post Comment
Scent of a creole woman
Louisiana creole lady
filled my weekend
ghost of lust lingers
my room silent as a flower
scent of powder and perfume
hangs in the air...
The ruins of our pleasure
sound of the sea
pages turning
her nearness enchanted me
perfume of wildflowers
moonlight and dew...
The fragrance of her skin
smell of her shampoo
breezes through as I inhale
the feel of her soft body
and deep wet kisses...
It was if
I had never existed elsewhere
her soft aroma lingers
left upon my rustling sheets...
Tonight I will sleep
on her side of the bed
because it still smells of her...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2014
About this poem:
Until I see her next weekend!
Better Days
BETTER DAYS
Better days are on its way, they say
But then, what is the delay
By the way, who are "the they"?
The “they” whom you never see
Do they get paid to say “better days are on its way?”
So that we can say, “they say”.
Where are the better days?
Is it only for a selective few?
That does not necessary needs pay.
Does money play a part?
In the rich fools heart?
That will never reach you from the start
For the poor will be at it like a dart.
Who will understand the ways?
Of the poor and needy heart?
When the rich go on horse back
While the poor and outcast goes on foot
The poor looks for a place to sleep
Something to eat
God you see and do not sleep
Save us from the deep
In your own time and way
So …. Where are the better days
Spoken by so many
If the underdogs, run around without any money.
Having to steal for something that “they” called pay.
The rich cant’s sleep in the park
For the night will be disturbed
By the stray dogs bark
The poor sleeps like a king in the park
For not even the stay dog will have to spark
It only bark at the moon
For in the poor person’s pocket is only something calls doom.
The rich says “let us sign the deal”
The poor man says “please buy me bread”
But somewhere between rich and poor
Is death standing at the door?
Better days may come tomorrow
But then who is the thieve that hinders
Better days while we are on our pillow?
The thieve only come to steal rob and destroy
And the poor, only gash their teeth
Even if they are false
And can’t eat any beef.
The rich and famous does not have to say
“Better days are on the way”
For they have their better days right now
And their pay cheques that matches many people’s entire lives pay.
Why does God allow certain things…
To happen in our lives?
God answer me soon, for my very bones
Are dried up and I feel deprived
Even my food taste like stones.
But yet, I will trust you Lord.
As for me I will trust the Lord
Even if “they” say better days are on the way
Let us not believe what “they” say
Even if they only rely on their pay.
Better days are on its way, they say
But then, what is the delay
By the way, who are "the they"?
The “they” whom you never see
Do they get paid to say “better days are on its way?”
So that we can say, “they say”.
Where are the better days?
Is it only for a selective few?
That does not necessary needs pay.
Does money play a part?
In the rich fools heart?
That will never reach you from the start
For the poor will be at it like a dart.
Who will understand the ways?
Of the poor and needy heart?
When the rich go on horse back
While the poor and outcast goes on foot
The poor looks for a place to sleep
Something to eat
God you see and do not sleep
Save us from the deep
In your own time and way
So …. Where are the better days
Spoken by so many
If the underdogs, run around without any money.
Having to steal for something that “they” called pay.
The rich cant’s sleep in the park
For the night will be disturbed
By the stray dogs bark
The poor sleeps like a king in the park
For not even the stay dog will have to spark
It only bark at the moon
For in the poor person’s pocket is only something calls doom.
The rich says “let us sign the deal”
The poor man says “please buy me bread”
But somewhere between rich and poor
Is death standing at the door?
Better days may come tomorrow
But then who is the thieve that hinders
Better days while we are on our pillow?
The thieve only come to steal rob and destroy
And the poor, only gash their teeth
Even if they are false
And can’t eat any beef.
The rich and famous does not have to say
“Better days are on the way”
For they have their better days right now
And their pay cheques that matches many people’s entire lives pay.
Why does God allow certain things…
To happen in our lives?
God answer me soon, for my very bones
Are dried up and I feel deprived
Even my food taste like stones.
But yet, I will trust you Lord.
As for me I will trust the Lord
Even if “they” say better days are on the way
Let us not believe what “they” say
Even if they only rely on their pay.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2014
About this poem:
I have often thought about the phrase "They say" but there are never mention of who "the they" were. I don't like that phrase, so rather say "Suzanne and Richard" said not "They".ALONE BUT NEVER LONELY
ALONE BUT NEVER LONELY
Have you ever experienced the loneliness even though in a room,
full of people and having had the feeling that something is creeping towards you that can only spell, doom.?
Have you ever heard somebody saying “Alone but never lonely” but can it be?
That somewhere along life’s journey your eyes were opened, but yet you don’t see?-
That loneliness is not measured by being alone, but is fulfilled by knowing that being,
Alone is not necessary the absence of a body in your presence, but knowing that seeing is not the ultimate measure of loneliness.
Not the presence of people in your immediate bubble, does not necessarily means that you are a soul seeker or alone.
The companionship and fellowship that will enhance your right to make the statement that along life’s journey, you will come to the realisation that if you seek you will ultimately find …… only yourself.
Getting to know and accepting yourself for who you are, can ultimately only proof to one person, and that one is you.
In the end you have to feel comfortable with only yourself and to recognise that loneliness is not really the absence of companionship.
In order to say the words “I am alone but never lonely” you will have to make peace not only with yourself, but to accept yourself, love yourself and then only you will be able to say “I am alone but never lonely.
Have you ever experienced the loneliness even though in a room,
full of people and having had the feeling that something is creeping towards you that can only spell, doom.?
Have you ever heard somebody saying “Alone but never lonely” but can it be?
That somewhere along life’s journey your eyes were opened, but yet you don’t see?-
That loneliness is not measured by being alone, but is fulfilled by knowing that being,
Alone is not necessary the absence of a body in your presence, but knowing that seeing is not the ultimate measure of loneliness.
Not the presence of people in your immediate bubble, does not necessarily means that you are a soul seeker or alone.
The companionship and fellowship that will enhance your right to make the statement that along life’s journey, you will come to the realisation that if you seek you will ultimately find …… only yourself.
Getting to know and accepting yourself for who you are, can ultimately only proof to one person, and that one is you.
In the end you have to feel comfortable with only yourself and to recognise that loneliness is not really the absence of companionship.
In order to say the words “I am alone but never lonely” you will have to make peace not only with yourself, but to accept yourself, love yourself and then only you will be able to say “I am alone but never lonely.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2014
About this poem:
I am often alone but I never feel lonely for I know god is for me and if He is for me who can be against me. I have His indwelling Holy Spirit who constantly guides me.
It's not a poem
This for u my gaze, for you never to read it, never to know
As the tears fall down I see the dreams,I see the gaze,the green eyes.
Some people meet just like that ... you and me should have never met.
Same eyes, same face you say, you can do anything you say, similar souls I say. Yes, I am Ikar, I always was, I still am. I need to fly a way again.
Feeling the breeze out side as a call "I have to go away", miles and miles away, what's the distance between us, one leap to something not possible, forbidden.
I haven't written in a long long time, happiness as u call me nothing moved me to write.
Your gaze, your words, you that looked me in the soul, you that spoke the dreams out on leaves of the black board, black is black baby it can never be wite. It burns me inside, I take the keyboard you the the cup.
Forget me, let me forget, let me go my dream, let me go.
As the tears fall down I see the dreams,I see the gaze,the green eyes.
Some people meet just like that ... you and me should have never met.
Same eyes, same face you say, you can do anything you say, similar souls I say. Yes, I am Ikar, I always was, I still am. I need to fly a way again.
Feeling the breeze out side as a call "I have to go away", miles and miles away, what's the distance between us, one leap to something not possible, forbidden.
I haven't written in a long long time, happiness as u call me nothing moved me to write.
Your gaze, your words, you that looked me in the soul, you that spoke the dreams out on leaves of the black board, black is black baby it can never be wite. It burns me inside, I take the keyboard you the the cup.
Forget me, let me forget, let me go my dream, let me go.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2014
About this poem:
It's not a poem, it's separation of something that should never had happen.
Poet To Poet 7/28/14
Poet, Love
is a knife
held
to our throat … /
love
is a dog from hell … /
love
is one
single bullet
in the chamber
of a gun, and the other
chambers
filled with ice. /
(pause)
Autobiographical
The lover in these poems
is me;
Love.
He appears
as lover
analyst & muse,
as father, son
& maybe even God
& surely death.
All this is true.
The man you turn to
in the dark
is many men.
This is an open secret
women share
& yet agree to hide
as if
they might then
hide it from themselves.
I will not hide.
I write in the nude.
I name names.
I am I.
(pause)
When in doubt,
go deep inside of
yourself for the answer.
You might be able to
influence the outcome of
an uncertain situation by
entering it with joy in your heart.
And I'll try to wrap philosophy
and poetry around me
to stop the chill … and to bring back
the sweet, calm warmth
I so desire … and need
(One thing
existence
has taught me
is to truly
and honestly
believe
in patience … believe
in the passing of time, for the passing of time
cures
everything … ---yes; one way or another, the passing of time
will mend
any
situation.)
Be slow, sweet poet, in your day /
find the peace
that does exist
inside you / find
the tranquility /
find
what is calm … and what will calm you
inside /
If it helps, imagine my arms around you,
and my voice
whispering softly
into your ear … touching gently … beyond friends … beyond
even lovers … poets
holding each other
in the harsh, cold evening
of existence.
I must close,
SAS
Do write soon poet,
I hunger for your words.
is a knife
held
to our throat … /
love
is a dog from hell … /
love
is one
single bullet
in the chamber
of a gun, and the other
chambers
filled with ice. /
(pause)
Autobiographical
The lover in these poems
is me;
Love.
He appears
as lover
analyst & muse,
as father, son
& maybe even God
& surely death.
All this is true.
The man you turn to
in the dark
is many men.
This is an open secret
women share
& yet agree to hide
as if
they might then
hide it from themselves.
I will not hide.
I write in the nude.
I name names.
I am I.
(pause)
When in doubt,
go deep inside of
yourself for the answer.
You might be able to
influence the outcome of
an uncertain situation by
entering it with joy in your heart.
And I'll try to wrap philosophy
and poetry around me
to stop the chill … and to bring back
the sweet, calm warmth
I so desire … and need
(One thing
existence
has taught me
is to truly
and honestly
believe
in patience … believe
in the passing of time, for the passing of time
cures
everything … ---yes; one way or another, the passing of time
will mend
any
situation.)
Be slow, sweet poet, in your day /
find the peace
that does exist
inside you / find
the tranquility /
find
what is calm … and what will calm you
inside /
If it helps, imagine my arms around you,
and my voice
whispering softly
into your ear … touching gently … beyond friends … beyond
even lovers … poets
holding each other
in the harsh, cold evening
of existence.
I must close,
SAS
Do write soon poet,
I hunger for your words.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2014
About this poem:
a journal entry
The great depression
Always It's like this wherever I roam,
Even in my very own home,
Surrounded by people I feel so alone,
The thought transports me to a twilight zone,
A dark scary place where noones my friend,
There sorrow and sadness never ends,
A hole in my heart like a hole in my head,
A taste in mouth that I cant get rid,
Like ripe rancid wine or old moldy bread,
The constant thoughts "I hate this trip",
And"I cant wait till the ride is overwith"
Even in my very own home,
Surrounded by people I feel so alone,
The thought transports me to a twilight zone,
A dark scary place where noones my friend,
There sorrow and sadness never ends,
A hole in my heart like a hole in my head,
A taste in mouth that I cant get rid,
Like ripe rancid wine or old moldy bread,
The constant thoughts "I hate this trip",
And"I cant wait till the ride is overwith"
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2014
About this poem:
Some of my finest dark poetry...
short morning poem
from the sun she falls,like painted glass on ancient walls
new as the birth of love,sliver of a silver winged dove
unfurling blanket of night to rhythm which forever calls
ceaseless and timeless like sea reflecting the stars above
O herald of years,making tears,knowest though the number of days
for I have spent them here,in your temple
etching your dreams upon this wall beside the lines in my face
new as the birth of love,sliver of a silver winged dove
unfurling blanket of night to rhythm which forever calls
ceaseless and timeless like sea reflecting the stars above
O herald of years,making tears,knowest though the number of days
for I have spent them here,in your temple
etching your dreams upon this wall beside the lines in my face
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2014
About this poem:
I wrote it on the bus this morning,the first part of the ride is not very beautiful and hardly worth staring out the window,so thought to put my time to some use......eloTHE SIGNS OF GROWING OLD
THE WRINKLES ARE FORMING
AROUND MY MOUTH AND EYES,
THE LOOSE SKIN IS SAGGING
ON MY ARMS AND THIGHS;
MY PACE IS GETTING SLOWER
AND MY KNEES ARE GETTING WEAK,
MY SIGHT IS GROWING DIMMER
AND ALL I WANT TO DO IS SLEEP;
MY MUSCLES ARE GETTING STIFF
AND ARE OFTEN VERY SORE,
BECAUSE THE LITTLE ACHES AND PAINS
ARE MORE FREQUENT THAN BEFORE;
MY TEETH ARE IN A JAR
AND MY HAIR IS IN THE COMB,
I CAN'T HOLD A TRAIN OF THOUGHT
BECAUSE MY MIND HAS STARTED TO ROAM;
MY HEARING IS FADING
AND MY PATIENCE IS GROWING THIN,
I FORGET WHERE I'M GOING
AND CAN'T REMEMBER WHERE I'VE BEEN;
BUT I THANK YOU DEAR LORD
FOR ALL THE SIGNS I SEE,
BECAUSE IT JUST MEANS, "ANOTHER DAY"
THAT YOU HAVE GIVEN ME!
AROUND MY MOUTH AND EYES,
THE LOOSE SKIN IS SAGGING
ON MY ARMS AND THIGHS;
MY PACE IS GETTING SLOWER
AND MY KNEES ARE GETTING WEAK,
MY SIGHT IS GROWING DIMMER
AND ALL I WANT TO DO IS SLEEP;
MY MUSCLES ARE GETTING STIFF
AND ARE OFTEN VERY SORE,
BECAUSE THE LITTLE ACHES AND PAINS
ARE MORE FREQUENT THAN BEFORE;
MY TEETH ARE IN A JAR
AND MY HAIR IS IN THE COMB,
I CAN'T HOLD A TRAIN OF THOUGHT
BECAUSE MY MIND HAS STARTED TO ROAM;
MY HEARING IS FADING
AND MY PATIENCE IS GROWING THIN,
I FORGET WHERE I'M GOING
AND CAN'T REMEMBER WHERE I'VE BEEN;
BUT I THANK YOU DEAR LORD
FOR ALL THE SIGNS I SEE,
BECAUSE IT JUST MEANS, "ANOTHER DAY"
THAT YOU HAVE GIVEN ME!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2014
About this poem:
This poem is about growing old...I wrote it as an encouragement to all who think that growing old is a bad thing. But what they don't realize is that every year that God allow us to see, Even with the aches and pain which we have to endure, it is yet a blessing! At the time I wrote this poem, I was feeling blessed!
Darkness
It is the night when shadows and darkness are with me,
But cover me and hide me now do it quickly,
For it is dawn and daylight fast approaches,
And I cannot be found out, no one must notice,
In this unforgiving light that cuts like a knife
Everything is up close, everything is exposed,
But no one wants to see the dark that is me,
Cuz darkness is reserved for monsters that creep,
Some think there is no restraint I am wild like a beast,
But I am not what they think, I am not what they teach,
Though it will not be revealed to them who I really am,
They don't give a damn nor do they understand,
So they will only hide in fear as they judge me,
I am by far too dark some remark that I am "ugly",
Well I welcome you darkness stay close, stay near,
Together we will always be what they fear!
w.b. JS
But cover me and hide me now do it quickly,
For it is dawn and daylight fast approaches,
And I cannot be found out, no one must notice,
In this unforgiving light that cuts like a knife
Everything is up close, everything is exposed,
But no one wants to see the dark that is me,
Cuz darkness is reserved for monsters that creep,
Some think there is no restraint I am wild like a beast,
But I am not what they think, I am not what they teach,
Though it will not be revealed to them who I really am,
They don't give a damn nor do they understand,
So they will only hide in fear as they judge me,
I am by far too dark some remark that I am "ugly",
Well I welcome you darkness stay close, stay near,
Together we will always be what they fear!
w.b. JS
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2014
About this poem:
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