Newest Free Verse Poems (29,539)

Stare me not down to scorn me
or strip of me my clothing
or rip from me my pride/
Instead
stare upon me gently
That you may want to embrace me
and not leave me alone at night
Else, why stare at all

The Horse's Heart beat pounding between my thighs, I sit upon him as he knows we are about to charge into another Battle. I sit there till mine and his heart is as one rhythm. I look to the South and see the encroachments of demons old slow and treacherous. I look to the West and see Thought-Forms high on the cliffs of reason as Egregores load and pull their Arrows of Hatred. I look to the East and see Broken women and men Chasing Superstitions, each with varyious weapon types in their hands. I look to the North and I see the coming of the Great purple Dragon whom will Spew Fiery Ice upon the once animated corposes of those - whom shall fall to their deaths upon the ground. I raise my Carefully etched spear of 99 Generations pointing high into the sky! I reach down patting my Horse along his thick dark black Mane, as I tell him: "Malkuth, you hath served me well my dear brother and friend. Let us Ride Once more into This Gauntlet of Passing, that we may Savor saving the Eternal Flames of Truth, Honor, Integrity, Courage, and Love! And if I should Fall from you my dear friend and brother, Ride on that our colors and Feathers be known by the onlookers of the dying as I fight for the right reasons to live. Today, is a good day to Die!"

I am Purple Paw of the Great majestic Mountain that overlooks the Sacred Circle of humanity. I am that which permeates through the resonance of the Northern magnetic Mountain. I am the voice remembered as the tides come and go as each Oceanic wave is filtered at the base of that Majestic Mountain. And as the Sea returns to its level so shall I in the hearts of those who learn to hear the callings of the wolf clans to the sacred Circles of the Great Bears whilst the healings of running rabbit and enchantments of the longsuffering Badger soothe their weary minds, as the Rhythm of Father Earth and Mother sky, carry them home. I walk with Grandfather, the trail of one set of a thousand prints, I carry the many. And as one great apostle once said, before being overtaken by greed and lust, "I am all things to all men". Yellow Claw from the North, white Claw from the West, And Red Claw from the South all came to bear witness to the falling and passing of Orange Bear my earth father, from the East. It has been 18 years since we have cast his ashes upon the great flowing backs of the Columbia River Gorge. It was a great day for celebrating as Grandfather in the sky welcomed an old Brother home. Yet for some their grief was too deep for the loss, they could not find their smile. My grief, my pain, my anger, it was all too deep to find mine own smile. I could not be there when he passed. Yet I was there for the casting of his ashes. I comforted all the ones without smile as much as I could for I knew their pain and anguish. They too had many unsaid things dwelling within their hearts. Yet they must learn to let that go and give it to the Four great winds. Or else they will drag it to their graves and wear the pain upon their faces. I have not become strong for what I have undergone or went through nor have I become the great Warrior of the Underworld for the Courage I wield. It comes from all that I drag and carry not leaving one experience to die unnoticed nor cherished for ill or health or life or death. As the Last fully adept wielder of the Flame I am the last living adult Male within the whole of all Native Indian Lineages trained and taught in the otherworldly ways of a distant species not of our kinds. And I am the last of our Tribe. I will never be an Orange Claw as my earth Father was. What I am though, there is none left to share with of my kind. I am alone as the last. And after my passing the depths of 99 lineages dies within the one, that I remain. I am the last breath, the last movement, the last sound that will ever be known upon the Four Winds of mine entire lineage. What will I leave to those that follow? Will it be anything of value? Or will it be the soft cries as I say: “ I am sorry earth father I did not have the courage nor the strength within my visions to shoot the demonic version of myself that sought to destroy me. So, I instead chose to embrace it within the same amounts of love you showed unto me. And though the soul bleedeth out of me I made a new friend as the boy within hath found his smile.” Or will it be the few possessions I have which Charity will take. I still heal from wounds upon my flesh as I do from wounds within my heart. Who will I sing for as I finish the race for a forgotten reason that only I still remember. Before sleeping I’d whisper I wanted to sing for love. Yet not just any love. I wanted to sing for a woman whom at my side would be the prize of my calling. The virtue of my pride and the calming of my rhythm. Yet to allow her entrance into my Sacred Circle I would first have to trust her. And off to sleep I’d drift, in and out for the remainder of a broken night’s rest. This is my every night when I sleep.

A powerful tsnumani of emotion that swirls around me
Twirling in its decadent dance of chaotic magic that pools
At my feet, caught in a trap of unthinkable improbability
A painful experience that sweeps its way in, the calm
After the storm, tears falling to signifiy the understanding
Of the incredible amount of pressure that one has put us
Through, the tactiturn notes of friendship that has changed
Since meeting you

A trip through the tidalwave pressure of society
A realistic approach to life in the footsteps of Mother Earth
Outbursts of a psychological war that hampers the mind
And the ongoing enigmatic power of Pain that causes Me
To feel hurt within, that much like the storm ahead
When the peace arrives, it is a relief to feel at ease
Energetically

Some Storms though come to clear your way,
I say Ride the Storm, Be the Storm, and in doing so,
That in itself can be the power you need to
Change your life!

Wouldn't it feel like Christmas
for each day that we get to live together ...?
After all, it's not so much the date that matters,
but the spirit of love, sharing, and joy
we will share with and give to each other ...

Wouldn't it always be like Christmas
when we put into words
how we feel for one another... ?
As if, every time,
hearing the Christmas Carols
when with our parents and siblings we used to gather ...
The ones we listened to as children
and appreciated even more as we grew older ...

Wouldn't it feel like Christmas ...
with every manifest of affection and love,
even if simple and nothing grand ...
That's not what really matters,
for each would still be like a precious present
opened on Christmas day, over and over ...
And through the years to come,
would just utterly become better and stronger ,
as we prove and show
we'll always be there for each other ...

The boy lived
In anticipation of miracles,
He believed
It would come out of nowhere
Unexpectedly and forever
He didn't believe
In ridiculous dogmas,
In the silence
Of unshakable walls...
And even at times he looked naive,
He couldn't live
Any other way
He was just awaiting for his miracles,
For his fairy tales
And then one day
Everything what used to be just a dream
Suddenly happened to him
And here it is-
Unthinkable a moment ago
It turned out exactly the way
He dreamed of
And it seemed
He should be happy, but for
Some reason
He stood and cried
Looking out of his window...

A flight out to the nearest stars
Traveling past Venus and Mars
The dawn of a brave new age
Elevated to life’s highest stage

What makes us destined to leave
Towards a future we can all believe
Or stay behind and cling to a past
What questions must be asked

Is peace just a dream once awake
An illusion made all the more fake
Is love not enough to be shared
Is life not reason to be spared

Oh reach up for the sky and say
Come together and start to pray
We need each other more than ever
The future is our new endeavor

There is no wind here
a thousand lit candles
perfume and wax from far shores
all have blown in
above the door a cherub
adorns the headspace
the columns are carved
from the darkest ebony
Can you hear the whispers?
I can too, between the eternal
and the now there is something
we reach for, its deep in the midst
perhaps its a little life raft
that is how we would want it
orange and bouyant
on a calm sea

At this time of year I like to watch Christmas movies and TV shows
ALF has two that are great
One is his first Christmas where he and Willie get stranded
They are trying to cut down a Christmas tree and ALF wants to see snow
The second one is ALF gets in the back of a van looking at toys
He goes to a hospital and poses as a stuffed doll for a sick girl named Tiffany
He ends up being her friend and stopping a man from jumping off a bridge
ALF was my favorite show from 1986 to 1990 and I have all on DVD
ALF's real name is Gordon Shumway

A chain around his hand and a carefully placed collar tight around my neck
would suffice to pass inspection during the times that they would check
I would say more Behind the closed door of what Officials did to me
Had I the Knowing of being protected as if life could be a guarantee
I was not grown and not sure of what I could possibly do
I was knocked to the ground, the governor told me to kiss his shoe
anymore to say would sicken the many for words of these grow dim
As the light would fade from any who underwent the touch of them
and now I'm grown and looking back too many things I'd want to forget
I was told I was special, and didnt matter, whether I was below or above
For during the moments, to the end after their touches, they told me I was loved