Poems (34,370)

Deep in the mines where the ale flows free
Our tankards raised, let the revelry be
Dwarven drinking songs and cheers all round
For we're the finest miners in the underground

Our work is rough, but our spirits high
For we're the ore extractors 'til we die
With pick-axes and hammers at our side
We'll drink to our health and mining pride

The sweat on our brows, a badge of honor
As we celebrate our toil, our highness we garner
The caverns ring with the dwarven sound
As we sing and toast our stouts all 'round

So raise your tankards and sing along
To the mining life, our drinking song
For deep in the mines where the ale flows free
We'll raise our voices in grand jubilee.

An evil man stands before me,
with eyes dark as midnight sky
A life of pain and sorrow,
soul so lost, it made me cry

But there's a glimmer of hope,
deep within his ashen dreams
A chance at his redemption,
or so to me it seems

His world cruel and heartless,
So his heart it did turn cold
But deep down I can see,
his weary soul longs to unfold

In this fleeting moment,
all his pain fades away
he embraces the light,
and let his darkness slip sway

So let us dance like fireflies,
in this ephemeral delight
And find our way back home,
in the heart of the night

For redemption is a journey,
filled with twists and turns
But with love by our side,
our spirits forever yearn

Ashen Dreams, we break the chains,
and rise up to the sky
With each step we take,
we become heroes with wings to fly.

In a land of magic and wonder,
There lived a child with pure innocence,
She roamed the fields with laughter and splendor,
Blissfully unaware of the world's malevolence.

But one day a darkness descended,
The air grew cold, and the sky turned grey,
The child was frightened and apprehended,
Her innocence slowly withered away.

The creatures of the land ran and hid,
As the shadows crept towards her,
The child cried out, "I want to be a kid!",
But her plea was swallowed by the sinister murmur.

The darkness took over, and the child's spirit broke,
Her vivid fantasies became a distant memory,
The land was still, and the silence spoke,
As the death of innocence became a tragedy.

Her world now tainted, with corruption and greed,
Forced to grow up too soon, the child could no longer dream,
No longer could the child embrace their pure creed,
The death of innocence, a melancholy theme.

Love is the Answer
You cannot buy happiness, but you sure can rent it!
The prices of things have gone up way too much
I miss my dogs
We only go around this world once
The 70's were my favorite decade
A woman is a person who can give birth and produce milk
Nothing beats a good sundae
Time is all we really have
If you can't feed the baby, then don't have the baby
The 80's had the best music
Free music on the internet destroyed music
Life isn't fair
I miss Chris Farley
Shania Twain is very pretty
Pluto has a heart on it
You will be happy

Once upon a time some poets would gather
And write poems of their choice
It was beautiful and lovely
It allowed each poet to have a voice

Comments made on those poems
Were lovely to read and digest
The comments inspired the poets
And gave them a feeling of being blessed

To all those poets I wish to say
It was great to have your work read
May your lives be blessed evermore
Thank you for what we have shared

And now, all you dearest poets
You can look back at those days
They were all so wonderful and happy
Oh yes, those were the days

La-la-la-da-da-da
La-la-la-da-da-da
Da-da-da-da, la-da-da-da-da

Flowers that wipe out our sorrows


Am I hallucinating?
Flowers of varied colors blooming
A testament of beauty that soothes the pain?
Maybe...
I would like to undo these dark thoughts in my mind
I would love to create a world that is of balance
Where there is dark so would there be light
Where there is hate, love must override
And so on..
Is there anyone here who would join me
And scrape off this morbidity?
Or am I all alone?
We are like drowning in the oceans of doom
It has to change, we have to be strong..
So let us go out and plant, I know we can
Flowers that soothes our sorrows and pain
Flowers that make our world see the light
We deserve it, I know we do...
Not just sadness and sorrow
I am all for it,
Are you?

Stitch by stitch, weave your tapestry of growth,
Embrace the lessons, both humble and loath.
Each thread represents progress made,
Self-improvement's masterpiece, to never fade.

Your god

Not a man-made creation
That implies existence

Perhaps a man-made concept

What kind of God, what kind of God?

Show me one
Who possesses fire in his right hand
And lightning in his left

Where is your eternal God
And why am I so unworthy
To speak
Or hold communion with?

Did he create me in such complexity
To solve his infinite riddles
and discern
with my power of reason
the difference between Him
and millenial history?!

Why must I believe
In that which I cannot prove

If faith is so important
Then why so many faiths?
Where were we meant to draw the line?

"I do not believe"
Is such a complex thing, itself
In the Christian God?
In the Jewish God?
In the Muslim God?
Your pick

The One Single God
As if they could be the same
Should one exist
If somehow only one
If somehow it could be proven
Just one, none more
But who could really say?

On the premise of faith
You take your pick
And somehow discredit
One, against the other

'In Yahweh, I have found faith..'
But not in Allah, I wonder why?
How do you determine your faith
To One God, against the Many God's Lie?

I marvel at your dedication
I am confounded by your complicity
I cringe at the thought
That your Universal God
Might accept your blind faith
And somehow not me

Here in my dark and painful reality
I am injured and wanting and free
To chose faith and complacence
To any God that I might
But none have presented
And even I should resent it
This 'Devil' that so well
you have known-
Yet now he doesn't chase me

Pure heart mechanical blues
there's a sax playing on the ridge
it rained all night in Kentucky

There's shoe-shine folklore
and western desert chords
struck in 4:4
I tell you this
when the dice roll
Mama's all knowin'
trumpet blowin'
good as a circus phenomenon

Pure heart mechanical blues
there's a sax playing on the ridge
it rained all night in Kentucky

Love's petals are plucked
in fields of indigo rain
like a storm up on the mountain
with no shelter to be gained