Free Verse Poems (29,538)

Dopo di me voglio che nulla rimanga di me.
Bruciatemi, affidate le mie ceneri ad un vento tenero e giudizioso
O ad una tempesta amara e disperata.
Decidono loro che cosa fare di me senza dover prendere la decisione.
Non voglio nessun giudizio, nessuna parola.
Tutto era di sbagliato in me
E rimarrà soltanto quel poco che era stato giusto:
mio figlio, il mio nome e tutto ciò che ho fatto o avevo cercato di fare.
Perchè tutto ciò che ho fatto o avevo cercato di fare
Era per capire che cosa sono la verità, la dignità, la libertà e per trovare almeno una ragione per esserci,
Per difendere me e miei da tutto ciò che è la violenza, ingiustizia, tradimento e dolore.
Se volete ricordare qualche cosa di me,
Ricordate una bella bambina,
Che era molto responsabile e abbastanza brava a scuola.
Aveva capito da piccola quello che molti non riusciranno capire neanche da grandi,
E la quale non è stata mai amata da nessuno.

La bambina che forse non è mai esistita …
Perché doveva diventare subito grande.

Oh time, oh moment of our final date,
Oh you, conspiracy of hostile moon and stars!
Oh faithful gaze, tell what you truly held
In fateful moment when we farewell sighed.

I failed to understand your sweet reserve.
Oh what simplicity it was to think that I
A part of bliss had managed to preserve!
Alas! wind scattered dreams of better life.

It was the time when fate, her fate
Was thus prejudged, along with mine,
Hence look of sorrow in the beauty’s eyes;

But mist of tears that concealed my gaze
Prevented me to see in clearer light,
Behold much greater sorrow, bigger strife.

Oh the sight sound and taste of love
It touches us like a dove

There is a reason the dove has wings
It flies into our hands and touches us for a moment
and offers its song to sing

It then flies away as free as it came often leaving much pain
It can overcome us like a thunderous storm
and fill us with things fuzzy and warm

Yet, it also has its illusions which leads us to confusion
Its scars can last a lifetime
Or paint a picture with rose color shades with brushes of empty affections and its imperfections.

See how we chase after a dream of love and hope
Yet, sometimes one can rush too much too fast and feel like a dope

They say anything worthwhile is worth the wait. Yet how long must some wait to seal their fate?

How many can often be so blind they dont see the signs.
Fools tend to push away what may be in front of them for a different flavor they think will do them a favor

There comes that moment in it's time of torment
the fool looks deeper into the pool
And what does he see but his own false perception of self
as he laments upon a stool
Taking sips of consolation in his isolation

Each and every day it seems to be getting harder to fulfill one's desires.
Yet, the question the fool must ask to his task is his intentions true and noble?

If our task is to find the barriers and excuses we create against what we seek are we sometimes afraid to take a peek?

Has some become so bitter and cold and just got so set in their ways feeling cranky and old?

Whatever happened to joys of childhood when there was a time when all that mattered was baseball and icecream

Now all the fool hears are sounds of moaning and groaning of his own doing
along with silent screams and his broken dreams

Today the fool just sits in his rocking chair safe upon the porch watching life pass him by like a summer breeze
as he takes his last wheeze

The illusions of love they play clever tricks as the magician dazzles the audience with beauty and hope
For some let us be mindful of truth and illusion of love before we lose sight of the dove.

Now that my heartaches are gone
I'll be moving on
And I'm glad that tomorrow will bring a brand new day
She didn't want to give me closure but I got it anyway

The ending was kind of loud like a motorcycle on a steep grade
And when the noise is over and fumes begin to fade
I'll take a walk and then relax somewhere in the cool shade
And this thing about closure I got it anyway

I guess a woman gets mad when she can't make a guy suffer anymore
And I believe summertime in South Carolina gets hot and such a bore
Here in Kentucky poor folks don't have much to say
But this thing about closure but I got it anyway

Now some people will laugh when they see my old elcamino
Coming down the road in this nice month of may
I'll adjust my rear view mirror to what the noise is behind me
She didn't want to give me closure but I got it anyway

Don’t cry,
There’s still another one last night that’s left to us,
I’ve got that one last time to whisper “you are mine,”
And only one last time these eyes,
Your eyes will look into my eyes and then a tear
Will fall by chance down on my hand,
Next day I’m left, I’m left alone without you,
But you don’t cry.

Don’t cry,
It looks like fate decreed against, it was bad luck,
We weren’t meant together, where on earth was I?
It took us such long time to meet, but, see, just now
I know I’m yours, and only cry, a cry of heart
I’ll check tomorrow, as for now
You stay with me for one last time,
For one last time.

You see,
Now I’m unable not to think, to dream of you,
Don’t know, no way to tell just how on earth I could
Allow you take away my love at time when I
Set eyes on you and then and there I whispered “yes,”
But let me say, please get me right,
Cause you know well how much I love,
How much I love.

Just know,
I’ll find you anyplace wherever you may go,
For you I’ll cover all the pages with my verse,
And should we meet in any place among the crowd,
You shall not turn away from me, pull off my road,
I’ll steal you, snatch away from all,
And you’ll be mine, forever mine,
Forever mine.

Our Father, who art in heaven! On bended knees
I’m standing before You with modest plea:
Of You it is not reaches, greatness that I request,
Oh I would hate with this to sacred prayer offend...
I wish instead that sky my humble soul enlighten,
And heart with love that emanates from You ignite,
So that for enemies, ev'n if by them I’m stabbed to death,
I’d ask forgiveness for they know not how they err.


July 17, 1858

The poet weeps
She has her own way of crying,
Her tears fall in her words,
Sometime she feels them flying,
Like the soulful songs of the birds,
Some people's tears are salted,
As they fall on the cheeks,
Her tears are in the pen,
She writes what she weeps.
She cries the words of her heart,
Her tears come from out of her soul.
She writes quietly in the dark,
Of tears that never show.
A poet's tears fall,
Where they may not be heard.
With a pen she cries,
Each tear becomes the word.
She has her own way,
Of healing her broken heart.
The words come so easy in the dark.
Some people cry salted tears,
As they run down the cheeks,
Words are the tears,
That the poet weeps.

It's so much easier to live in a dream,
or a fantasy of some kind
than it is to open your eyes to reality,
not ever days can be roses and wine,

they say that love is blind,
it's so much easier to believe in Love's sweet lies,
than it is to open your eyes,
and find,

that everyone doesn't always play fair
in games of love and war,
and you don't always get what you wish for
under that star,
And the reality that love sometime dies,
or that the heart doesn't always love wise,
and that it ends sometime,
lovers don't always mean what they say
not every day can be roses and wine



Sometime you have to pay the devil his dues,
they say that some of us are born to lose,
Let me be able to say,
I can take off my shoes and dance in Love's dust,
and play in the rain like a child,
I can still play by the flame,
when love 's fire grows wild,

there are clouds sometime,
but they may have a silver line,
behind them the sun still can shine
through the rain,

and in a mountain,
they say you can find,
diamonds and a gold vein,
not ever day is sunshine,
not every day can be roses and wine

When she came
it was a murderous carnival
all sea foam and slippery back stars
I lay in the sheets
listening to the mid-afternoon traffic
Brahms never had it this good

Me
I wish I knew who I am
I thought I knew but have no clue
I look into a mirror, and what is it
I see?
A reflection of me!!

Not as others see me,
or so I have been told
for like looking through a
glass darkly, it distorts
not just me, but everything
that's seen
from a different point of view

Until you look upon your face
as others see you true
you'll never really know
the person that is you

No one else can tell you
what they really see
for when I look into
a mirror I see a different me

Tis the same with deeper meanings
so because I am not sure
I will leave what I really
look like at G-d's holy door

For he truly knows me
the good and the bad
whether I am happy
or whether I am sad

He looks upon my features
as the other people do
but he also looks much deeper
and sees inside my soul
he looks beyond the superficial
and can work miracles I know

So I shall leave my face and
heart within his tender hands
and know that everything is
done within a grander plan

that transcends the superficial
this visage others see
I will trust in his love and
guidance for he knows the real me!