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.
TOWARDS YOURSELF
TOWARDS YOURSELF
When being in the darkest depths of Hell,
When you are saddened and your luck is blown,
Forge the burning coal of Sadness into a ladder
and walk right out of there on your own!
When walking ,without a road ahead, is crushing you,
surrounding you with four restraining walls
from all the shattered roads you once had walked onto,
build a brand new path and pursuit your goals.
When the world is fading in your eyes
and darkness slowly blurs your sight to black,
Create a sun yourself and from its beams,
embrace the last one - it will take you back.
The mystery of life is blind and thorny,
it takes it all and crucifies our souls.
With all belongings lost , YOURSELF KEEP ONLY,
'cause that's the only way to reach your goals!
When being in the darkest depths of Hell,
When you are saddened and your luck is blown,
Forge the burning coal of Sadness into a ladder
and walk right out of there on your own!
When walking ,without a road ahead, is crushing you,
surrounding you with four restraining walls
from all the shattered roads you once had walked onto,
build a brand new path and pursuit your goals.
When the world is fading in your eyes
and darkness slowly blurs your sight to black,
Create a sun yourself and from its beams,
embrace the last one - it will take you back.
The mystery of life is blind and thorny,
it takes it all and crucifies our souls.
With all belongings lost , YOURSELF KEEP ONLY,
'cause that's the only way to reach your goals!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2014
About this poem:
That is a poem of a great Bulgarian romantic , who has passed away 15 years ago. I have translated it for my friends all over the world.All my life it has given me strength, will and optimism to keep on!
I would like to add: Yes, we are strong and can overcome every circumstance in life with self-esteem and changing our attitudes.
Faith ,Trust and strong Will!
The rain is falling...
The rain is falling,
My head is spinning,
The train is arriving,
My mind is dreaming.
The rain is falling,
My body is shivering,
My eyes are drooping,
The weather is cooling,
The rain is falling,
The cats are barking,
The dogs are meowing,
And somewhere a baby is dancing!!
The rain is falling,
This is not happening,
My mum is shouting,
Tantrums at me for day-dreaming!!!
This world is changing,
People all around are starving,
Liars and cheaters are playing,
While the rain is still falling...
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2012
About this poem:
It is still raining ...my mind is sleepy so a whacky ,tacky poem I present you all...dogmy raining catday ...Smile I know are reading and laughing !!!
Ancient Bullman
Non-Stop Raindrops
Seasons of anguish in rhythmic rotation...
Meticulously taking their time...
Summers of sadness...
Winters of madness...
Thoroughly mine...
Like the inner-workings of a complex clock...
Gears of misery, memory blocked...
Autumn emotions...
Springtime erosions...
Raindrops of pain refusing to stop....
Meticulously taking their time...
Summers of sadness...
Winters of madness...
Thoroughly mine...
Like the inner-workings of a complex clock...
Gears of misery, memory blocked...
Autumn emotions...
Springtime erosions...
Raindrops of pain refusing to stop....
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Mar 2014
Post Comment
THE DRAWER
Their belongings were buried side by side
In a shallow bureau drawer. There was her
Crocodile handbag, letters, a brooch,
All that was in the bedside cupboard
And a small green jar she’d had for flowers.
My father’s were in an envelope:
A khaki lanyard, crushed handkerchief,
Twelve cigarettes, a copying-pencil,
All he had on him when he was killed
Or all my mother wanted to keep.
I put them together seven years ago.
Now that we’ve moved , my wife and I,
To a house of our own, I’ve taken them out.
Until we can find another spare drawer
They’re packed in a cardboard box in the hall.
So this dead, middle-aged, middle-class man
Killed by a misfired shell, and his wife
Dead of cirrhosis, have left one son,
Aged nine, aged nineteen, aged twenty-six,
Who keeps things they used in a cardboard box.
In a shallow bureau drawer. There was her
Crocodile handbag, letters, a brooch,
All that was in the bedside cupboard
And a small green jar she’d had for flowers.
My father’s were in an envelope:
A khaki lanyard, crushed handkerchief,
Twelve cigarettes, a copying-pencil,
All he had on him when he was killed
Or all my mother wanted to keep.
I put them together seven years ago.
Now that we’ve moved , my wife and I,
To a house of our own, I’ve taken them out.
Until we can find another spare drawer
They’re packed in a cardboard box in the hall.
So this dead, middle-aged, middle-class man
Killed by a misfired shell, and his wife
Dead of cirrhosis, have left one son,
Aged nine, aged nineteen, aged twenty-six,
Who keeps things they used in a cardboard box.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Aug 2011
About this poem:
Just a poem I wished to share with you ... many things in our house keep reminding us about our loss ... loss of parents is the heaviest ever ... when we are left alone, on our own in real and confront the perils of world with no backing of parents or in fact no backing at all.
An Open Letter ...(Elo and Socrates' challenge)
thanks guys!!!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2013
Post CommentWEAVING A SPELL.....
Early morning, when mist clings to trees
In wooded hollow, only stirred by a breeze
Close by, lapping of ocean weaves a spell
Image of peaceful security, nature sells
Nature after dark, can be a scary place
When misty wooded haven, changes face
As spindled branches, adorning trees
Stretch-catching anything, moving free
Vision is restricted, by cloudy skies
When moon and stars, stay hidden on high
Uneven ground, with scattered roots trip
As leaves and wet soil, under feet slip
If lucky light filtered, by a shiny moon
Looking down upon scene, uplifting gloom
Stars may twinkle, allow spiritual lift
In a place where echoes, haunt and drift
Yet on a peaceful morning, at waking dawn
Nothing appears sinister, a new day born
Welcome's hope, to caste its magic spell
AS warming sun convinces, all is well......
In wooded hollow, only stirred by a breeze
Close by, lapping of ocean weaves a spell
Image of peaceful security, nature sells
Nature after dark, can be a scary place
When misty wooded haven, changes face
As spindled branches, adorning trees
Stretch-catching anything, moving free
Vision is restricted, by cloudy skies
When moon and stars, stay hidden on high
Uneven ground, with scattered roots trip
As leaves and wet soil, under feet slip
If lucky light filtered, by a shiny moon
Looking down upon scene, uplifting gloom
Stars may twinkle, allow spiritual lift
In a place where echoes, haunt and drift
Yet on a peaceful morning, at waking dawn
Nothing appears sinister, a new day born
Welcome's hope, to caste its magic spell
AS warming sun convinces, all is well......
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2015
About this poem:
a wooded area by a beach.....The Truth of A Liar
You come as a shadow
A silhouette of a perfect man
A bunch of dreams in your hand
You paint the rainbow at horizon
A heaven’s view on this earth
When it comes to the juncture
The rain and thunder ease the shadow
No more silhouette or dreams
There is nothing left behind
But the truth you tell the world only one
That you are truly a man
A silhouette of a perfect man
A bunch of dreams in your hand
You paint the rainbow at horizon
A heaven’s view on this earth
When it comes to the juncture
The rain and thunder ease the shadow
No more silhouette or dreams
There is nothing left behind
But the truth you tell the world only one
That you are truly a man
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2010
About this poem:
where is the lonely word of honesty ?
online today!a great man, my dear Phil
possessed with kindness
unequaled in generosity
to have met you, we're blessed
so endlessly
you are the epitome of courage
you are a salt of the earth
humanity is enhanced
because of your presence
I can't stop thanking you
a dear friend it is so true
how lucky we are to have known you
now please enjoy and celebrate
the wonderful day of your birth.
Happy birthday again my dear friend..
until we meet again.
unequaled in generosity
to have met you, we're blessed
so endlessly
you are the epitome of courage
you are a salt of the earth
humanity is enhanced
because of your presence
I can't stop thanking you
a dear friend it is so true
how lucky we are to have known you
now please enjoy and celebrate
the wonderful day of your birth.
Happy birthday again my dear friend..
until we meet again.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2015
About this poem:
I have met so many people in my life but no one I can give my great respect and honor than to a most wonderful man named Phil.I am so lucky to have known you my friend.
Happy New Year!
Thinking, oh, how good it was! Thinking on this New Year’s eve,
Thank you, friends, for taking time, speaking high about me,
Many kind and gracious words may be thus addressed to thee,
You’re my refuge and my ties with the world outside of me.
Thanks for all the good you've done and for more you are to give,
Toast of joy let’s lift to us, toast to luck in joyful glee!
New Year’s coming, we're on eve, let us wish ourselves good things,
Let’s be joyful at a time when our planet takes its leap
To a new and wondrous start! New Year’s coming! Let it be!!!
Thank you, friends, for taking time, speaking high about me,
Many kind and gracious words may be thus addressed to thee,
You’re my refuge and my ties with the world outside of me.
Thanks for all the good you've done and for more you are to give,
Toast of joy let’s lift to us, toast to luck in joyful glee!
New Year’s coming, we're on eve, let us wish ourselves good things,
Let’s be joyful at a time when our planet takes its leap
To a new and wondrous start! New Year’s coming! Let it be!!!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2010
About this poem:
I wrote and posted this poem last year, and couldn't think about anything better, so don't bear me grudge if I post it again.Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, fellow poets!
Love's Song
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So vividly I recall love's song she sang
The gentle humming of the surf to my soul
The majestic waves washing o're me gently
Filling my heart with an ecstasy unbeknownst
Sorrowfully now tis certain love's song is ended
Disintegrated as surely as the rock to sand
The once busily babbling waters
Rushing swiflty down the stream
Now merely a gaping dusty hole
reminding me of a love that can never be
That same old melody, haunting me taunting
Echoing over and over again through my mind
As I sink deeper and deeper into the abyss
I in a futile attmept
At some sort of recognizance
Succumb to the only reminders of love lost
The hollowness in my heart
And the heady scent of lilac after a rain.
So vividly I recall love's song she sang
The gentle humming of the surf to my soul
The majestic waves washing o're me gently
Filling my heart with an ecstasy unbeknownst
Sorrowfully now tis certain love's song is ended
Disintegrated as surely as the rock to sand
The once busily babbling waters
Rushing swiflty down the stream
Now merely a gaping dusty hole
reminding me of a love that can never be
That same old melody, haunting me taunting
Echoing over and over again through my mind
As I sink deeper and deeper into the abyss
I in a futile attmept
At some sort of recognizance
Succumb to the only reminders of love lost
The hollowness in my heart
And the heady scent of lilac after a rain.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jul 2009
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