Here is a list of Most Viewed 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.
Ghostwriter
This haunted temple of mine inside is just a spirit prison...
Housing cold dark spirits that control my every thought...
I have not chosen these frozen and unholy written visions...
And though I'm blessed, I am a mess, and thoroughly possessed...
I would love to choose, the words I've used, to create a new tomorrow...
Ghosts inside have taken over and gotten the best of me...
I've lost control, of my sick soul, there's nothing left to borrow...
I can't compete, I'm incomplete, there's no love left just sorrow...
Exorcisms failed to force from where these demons roam...
Ghostly rebel spirits have now made me their new home...
An abduction of, who I once was, a pure and innocent child...
Ghostwriters in me, are obviously, the one's that wrote this poem....
Housing cold dark spirits that control my every thought...
I have not chosen these frozen and unholy written visions...
And though I'm blessed, I am a mess, and thoroughly possessed...
I would love to choose, the words I've used, to create a new tomorrow...
Ghosts inside have taken over and gotten the best of me...
I've lost control, of my sick soul, there's nothing left to borrow...
I can't compete, I'm incomplete, there's no love left just sorrow...
Exorcisms failed to force from where these demons roam...
Ghostly rebel spirits have now made me their new home...
An abduction of, who I once was, a pure and innocent child...
Ghostwriters in me, are obviously, the one's that wrote this poem....
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2014
Post Comment
Simple Country Life
Long in sunny hollow does grass grown green
Watching apple blossums fall in the breeze
Slowly drifting past are clouds so serene
Great time to daydream or do as you please
Out behind the yellow farmhouse finds you
Hanging all our fresh washed clothes on a line
Nothing better can a warm spring sun do
Make any linens fresher or smell so fine
Living in the fair countryside immume
Far away from the city's smog and noise
Smelling sweet fragrance when wild flowers bloom
Is something very few of us enjoys
How great it makes a simple country life
A peaceful place for a man and his wife
Watching apple blossums fall in the breeze
Slowly drifting past are clouds so serene
Great time to daydream or do as you please
Out behind the yellow farmhouse finds you
Hanging all our fresh washed clothes on a line
Nothing better can a warm spring sun do
Make any linens fresher or smell so fine
Living in the fair countryside immume
Far away from the city's smog and noise
Smelling sweet fragrance when wild flowers bloom
Is something very few of us enjoys
How great it makes a simple country life
A peaceful place for a man and his wife
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: May 2012
About this poem:
A sonnet to celebrate the unsophisticated candor of rural America...
If I Could (1) ( A Trilogy)
If I could, borrow time
And return, to yesteryear
Where dormant hearts
Lie in wait
And past hopes
Lie in fallen pages
From the script of life
If I could, borrow a sage
To teach me, love
And offer up
All my dreams
Upon a silver platter
Then the written word
Cannot be meaningless
If I could, borrow the stars
For just a short time
And blend the heavens
To shape, my life
And bind it
Within the folder
Of your eternity
Then this book
Has reached an ending
If I could, return to you
Leafing back
Upon these worn
And rewritten pages
And the wise old sage
Taught me of wisdom
And to live life
One chapter
At a time
If I could, borrow more time
Where days
Become minutes
And every single second
Becomes so precious
And the fallen pages
Combine
To write the story
Of our life
So that history
Writes itself
And the future
Lies in unabated wait
If I could, rewrite my past
And tell this story
Through the eyes
Of the wise old sage
And blend all the stars
With wisdom
Then this dormant heart
Could behold the future
If I could, hold your heart
As much
As you held mine
And the heavens stalled
For just one second
And the book of our life
Reached its finality
And the last page
Would always say
“The end”
If I could
If I could
For just one second
Of time
Love you, again
And again
Then life, would be
A glorious eternity
And return, to yesteryear
Where dormant hearts
Lie in wait
And past hopes
Lie in fallen pages
From the script of life
If I could, borrow a sage
To teach me, love
And offer up
All my dreams
Upon a silver platter
Then the written word
Cannot be meaningless
If I could, borrow the stars
For just a short time
And blend the heavens
To shape, my life
And bind it
Within the folder
Of your eternity
Then this book
Has reached an ending
If I could, return to you
Leafing back
Upon these worn
And rewritten pages
And the wise old sage
Taught me of wisdom
And to live life
One chapter
At a time
If I could, borrow more time
Where days
Become minutes
And every single second
Becomes so precious
And the fallen pages
Combine
To write the story
Of our life
So that history
Writes itself
And the future
Lies in unabated wait
If I could, rewrite my past
And tell this story
Through the eyes
Of the wise old sage
And blend all the stars
With wisdom
Then this dormant heart
Could behold the future
If I could, hold your heart
As much
As you held mine
And the heavens stalled
For just one second
And the book of our life
Reached its finality
And the last page
Would always say
“The end”
If I could
If I could
For just one second
Of time
Love you, again
And again
Then life, would be
A glorious eternity
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2013
About this poem:
Bloody Hell!!, my watch just stopped!!Road to Nowhere
The road appeared different today
Perhaps it was the grey dank sky
That bled desolation
That made it look
As if misery had overtaken it
Scattered boxes, riotous revelry mementos
Lay discarded, abandoned by humanity
(Or some may say inhumanity)
And brightly coloured lids, when asked
Mostly replied, “Ham Cheese and Pineapple”
Fresh holes, those pock marked decaying scars
Seeming devoid of any compassion
What scurrying animals had left
In a flurry of desperation, but unknown to them
Would never let them escape their misery
And the trees, as if with wanton need
Had shed their belongings
Retreating, seeking another guise
As if desperation, always looked better
When barren and naked
The road looked different today
As if misery had strolled on by
And left that odour of hopelessness
Maybe I should not have walked that way
But it was my only path
Perhaps it was the grey dank sky
That bled desolation
That made it look
As if misery had overtaken it
Scattered boxes, riotous revelry mementos
Lay discarded, abandoned by humanity
(Or some may say inhumanity)
And brightly coloured lids, when asked
Mostly replied, “Ham Cheese and Pineapple”
Fresh holes, those pock marked decaying scars
Seeming devoid of any compassion
What scurrying animals had left
In a flurry of desperation, but unknown to them
Would never let them escape their misery
And the trees, as if with wanton need
Had shed their belongings
Retreating, seeking another guise
As if desperation, always looked better
When barren and naked
The road looked different today
As if misery had strolled on by
And left that odour of hopelessness
Maybe I should not have walked that way
But it was my only path
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2012
About this poem:
I love being a miserable git!!!
Love 'im to pieces
no my for Pollen the Sip, All pout this, an you said so what We
gave of the flower and said it was ours. And then the little man
boink Broke into a million bits Still, at the toes of the blue, came
the bare bevels like a Rubix Cube about to be twisted for the first
time And yet, when all the present has been folded back into lonely Love 'im to pieces, feed 'im in a high-chair
gave of the flower and said it was ours. And then the little man
boink Broke into a million bits Still, at the toes of the blue, came
the bare bevels like a Rubix Cube about to be twisted for the first
time And yet, when all the present has been folded back into lonely Love 'im to pieces, feed 'im in a high-chair
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2016
About this poem:
Love 'im to pieces
online today!for Obama
you are full of nonesense
you don't know what it takes to end this
Calamities?
you have been using the same strategy
based on crippling these terrorists?
yet on the back of your mind,
nothing changes?
Insanity, even I know, as it was said:
doing the same thing over and over again
and yet expecting different result?
you have to be out of your mind.
sure you promise to reinforce more
of what you have done.
fact is: you can bleed them dry
cut off the fuel that sparks their guts
annihilate them before they wipe us
didn't you say, this attack is against humanity?
and yet you are standing there talking nonsense?
on top of that, you are claiming that:
ISIS doesn't represent Islam,
yet how do you explain that when the attack is done.
they are shouting, "allah akbar?
whatever that means?
they claim they do it in the name of their god
and here you are saying, it is not?
you are deaf and blind, but not stupid and dumb.
you don't know what it takes to end this
Calamities?
you have been using the same strategy
based on crippling these terrorists?
yet on the back of your mind,
nothing changes?
Insanity, even I know, as it was said:
doing the same thing over and over again
and yet expecting different result?
you have to be out of your mind.
sure you promise to reinforce more
of what you have done.
fact is: you can bleed them dry
cut off the fuel that sparks their guts
annihilate them before they wipe us
didn't you say, this attack is against humanity?
and yet you are standing there talking nonsense?
on top of that, you are claiming that:
ISIS doesn't represent Islam,
yet how do you explain that when the attack is done.
they are shouting, "allah akbar?
whatever that means?
they claim they do it in the name of their god
and here you are saying, it is not?
you are deaf and blind, but not stupid and dumb.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2015
About this poem:
I might be wrong but he just claimed this fight is not about Islam,yet he fails to address that when an attack is done,
it is claimed to glorify their god?
Note: in the mechanics of politics, he does work on pleasing both the original 13 groups that run our government of whom control the commercialism and profit induced ventures (Rockefellers, Magnin, Rosenthals...) and the lowly like you and me.
Not easy and don't get me wrong, I am not implying that our ideology and principles are bad compared to socialist, fascist governments of the world. No all I am saying is, we can do better. He can stop this madness should he choose to. Stop the evil brainwashing of these monsters to young kids who will carry their goal (suicide bombers), they are just as victims and you and me. Educate them as young that no God, allow anyone to harm anybody, let alone, kill. Easy. Isolate them and change the system.
Angry phrases
I hate you, hate is nothing new. I will destroy you, what does that mean if true? I will get you, what if i will not have you? I will kill you, death that one never knew. I will bury you, someone will bury you too. Hate, destroy, get, kill and bury they are nothing, but anger in you.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2010
Post CommentDark Matter
The only thing that matters in this cursed dark universe...
Are things unseen in sick dark dreams that bring what surely hurts...
Invisible stars too far to reach elude me every time...
Dark matter is the element that can make your dark stars shine...
I love the feel of stardust when it falls upon my face...
I love to steal the taste you place in places of dark space...
I hate the feel of gravity when it pushes me away...
Away from you, my love so true, away from your embrace....
Are things unseen in sick dark dreams that bring what surely hurts...
Invisible stars too far to reach elude me every time...
Dark matter is the element that can make your dark stars shine...
I love the feel of stardust when it falls upon my face...
I love to steal the taste you place in places of dark space...
I hate the feel of gravity when it pushes me away...
Away from you, my love so true, away from your embrace....
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2014
Post CommentWoman
As beautiful as God's Eternal Wife...
I cannot look upon you...
Your beauty overwhelms my senses...
Suppression of breath...
Skin standing on end...
Eyes raining never-ending...
I tremble at the very thought of you...
My unworthiness is my curse...
Giving countless reasons to change...
And yet my inability to behold your perfection...
Gives me reasons not to....
A winding waterway dripping with cuteness...
How could there ever be such beauty?
Like liquid glass that's cool to the touch...
Your incomparable pureness reflected into mirrrors...
Incapable of dishonesty...
Blind with perfect vision...
I water you...
You water me...
And yet, my thirst is unquenchable....
I cannot look upon you...
Your beauty overwhelms my senses...
Suppression of breath...
Skin standing on end...
Eyes raining never-ending...
I tremble at the very thought of you...
My unworthiness is my curse...
Giving countless reasons to change...
And yet my inability to behold your perfection...
Gives me reasons not to....
A winding waterway dripping with cuteness...
How could there ever be such beauty?
Like liquid glass that's cool to the touch...
Your incomparable pureness reflected into mirrrors...
Incapable of dishonesty...
Blind with perfect vision...
I water you...
You water me...
And yet, my thirst is unquenchable....
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: May 2014
Post Comment
online today!A September Day Tribute
It’s happening again this September
The echo of the cries of 3,000 souls
So very difficult in mind’s eye to remember
The emotional drain each year takes a toll
The sights and sounds of buildings falling
Trying to fly like birds on the wind
Tortures the souls of those remaining
Wishing the memories would be dimmed
The definition of 911 forever changed
Heroes and murderers were born that day
Each in their own way coming to fame
Both facing burning Hell come what may
The murderers are still there to this day
Leaving others with tortuous memories
The Heroes were able to fly away
Facing Hell they left legendary stories
Stories revisited each and every year
For some these stories are of brave men and women
Others the memories still recreate the fear
As each of these visions is summoned
For me I think of 3,000 new stars in the sky
Each one winking at me from above
As I look at them way up high
I send each and every one of them my love
The echo of the cries of 3,000 souls
So very difficult in mind’s eye to remember
The emotional drain each year takes a toll
The sights and sounds of buildings falling
Trying to fly like birds on the wind
Tortures the souls of those remaining
Wishing the memories would be dimmed
The definition of 911 forever changed
Heroes and murderers were born that day
Each in their own way coming to fame
Both facing burning Hell come what may
The murderers are still there to this day
Leaving others with tortuous memories
The Heroes were able to fly away
Facing Hell they left legendary stories
Stories revisited each and every year
For some these stories are of brave men and women
Others the memories still recreate the fear
As each of these visions is summoned
For me I think of 3,000 new stars in the sky
Each one winking at me from above
As I look at them way up high
I send each and every one of them my love
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2015
About this poem:
Tribute to all those loss September 11, 2001Poems entered on these pages are copyrighted by the authors who entered them. They cannot be reproduced without the author's written consent. © Copyright 2001-2024. All rights reserved.
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