Last Viewed Free Verse Poems (29,539)

He noticed me when I accompanied my daughter to learn to sing in the Sunday school.
He saw me standing with full support for my daughter.
He read my mind about the hope for the future of my daughter.
He felt a vibration that harbored my heart’s hope of my daughter’s spiritual life.
He touched my worries as a mother.
He looked at me with a lot of questions and little hope.
He photographed me and my daughter repeatedly in the churchyard.
He spoke with words of stern and simple.
He gives warmth to the children.
He offered friendship.
He told me his dream was beginning to become a journalist.
He listened to my story about my initial goal is to become a nun.
He gave me a clear picture of monastic life.
He sent me letters that live in my mind when he had moved the task.
He was the first monk who was very close in my life.
In all his words sometimes save something. As a friendship bound by a deep longing. He seemed to fill his mind with the problems of my everyday's life. But he remained there, in the monastery, the life that has he chose.But his gander stay in my mind, gave a special meaning. Friendship in the holy longing. In the monastery, there is a longing that fill him everyday.

I have a dream that I can share
I knew it then so long ago
Always treat your neighbor with tender loving care
Just look at the big picture
Put away the anger and your fears

I have a dream I'd like to share
Open your heart and you will know
Extinguish all your horrors love is everywhere
You control what matters
Always full of love and not despair

I have a dream its in the air
Like life we know can't stop the flow
Won't accept your sorrow put away your tears
Can't wait to see tommorrow
Hold true to you whats dear

I have a dream where we can go
A place where theres no hatred
There only loves allowed to grow
Beneath the clear cool waters
Where even times not allowed to flow

I have a dream to stop the show
We will have no need
From the fear of hell below
You can walk on top of water
Just use your tippy toes

I have a dream as pure as snow
White flakes fill the skies
As cold wind begins to blow
A warm candle lights the night
A cozy feeling we all love and know

I have a dream and endless dream
Where all in this together
We all work as a team
We'll solve every single problem
Its not as bad as it seems

I have a dream my heart just gleams
Bright moonshine in my window
Place my hand inside the beam
I hear the screaming kettle
Time for hot coco topped with cream

I have a dream my self esteem
If you wanna go just let me know
I'll take you there I want you there
Just say please I'll put your mind at ease
Its about love with nothing but heaven above!

South South West of Tralee,
The most western part of the land
For thousands of years people lived there
With flocks of sheep on a hillside
And each had a cow of his
own while , in unfertile land
Potatoes were grown.
A place that writers called home.
Never did pen kiss asper so sweet
As when it’s writers wrote of sea and
of gull
And eyes that stared through windows of lace
Absorbing the rhythm of life’s easy pace
Firers blazed
all year round
Coooking the fish and Lobsters they found
Worldly contact was eight miles away
Over a mountain to Dingle Bay
And never a one did ever stay
For the islands called Herchildren back home
to the gull the sea and to play.

I find my higher learning
After lessons learned from my wrong turning
I played with fire Maybe that's why I'm still burning

I sparked the flame now it's lit
I won't feel a thing after this hit
When its more than I can take I get faded
To keep from going crazy when I'm frustrated
The sober life is like my xwife, overrated
I wish I was a hippie to bad it's outdated
To bad that way of life couldn't have waited
We should find a way to have it reinstated
Forever free forever jaded
Loving all never hated
Made of stone not silver plated

Ceremonial serums reconstruct sickness,
Syrups deconstruct what is stuck...
Powerful potions relieve with a quickness,
Liquids laced with bad luck...

Syrupy spirits so sourly sweet,
Relief with no substitute known...
Elixirs, consistors of poisonous treats,
Belief in my syrup syndrome.....

A pond ripples
pick nick blanket
spread
a gorgeous feast
including breads

A kite flies high
and Frisbees rise

Dogs chasing balls
thrown by kids
involved

10 years had fled
since we'd been
wed

I stand at the entrance to the
ballroom floor like a stallion
set for battle..
My hair has five pounds of tonic
which shines like a glob of oily
slop..
My shoes are shined to a blazing
glow..
My jeans are so tight that civil
law forbids such apparrel in
public..
I smoke a cigar of exotic sent..
James Bond has been hired to carry
my Mc Donalds gift certificates and
wait in the car..
My car drives at speeds only known
by high ranking government officials..
I gaze at the female flock attending
the dance..
All of them pant for my touch..
When I gaze at any one of them with
my cave dwelling eyes they have no
choice but to faint or commit sucicide..
Fortunately all faint..
But then it happens..I venture towards
a female who has strayed from the herd..
She is easy prey..
With my bottom lip plucking at my wine
glass and my teasing tongue dripping
love saliva..I ask her to dance..
She has no choice..she must swoon or die..
I snatch her by the waist and begin to
whirl her around the room like a two dollar
carnival ride..
She is dizzy with the knowledge that she is
dancing with this man beast..
I breathe a sexy word into her ear and she
must either summit or end up in a mental
institution..
All summit..
All other males are confronted with the fact
that they must either leave the dance or spend
the rest of their lives wandering up and down
the interstate highway..
Most choose the highway..
Yet the dance carries long into the night and
as you might have guessed..all the women were
mine..
I leave the dance with a bus load of women..
and we end up partying on the dark side of the
moon..
There can be only one logical explanation for
this state of affairs..
These women have met..The Lady Killer!

Thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule to sit down and answer some questions Santa. First, how come I have never seen you?

Santa: I have a lot of stops to make in just one night, so I move so fast that you cannot see me.

How many presents did you deliver last year?

Santa: I delivered 21 billion, 256 million, 754,033 presents last year, that's alot of lifting.

So how do you fit all those presents into your sleigh?

Santa: Thanks to majic I can put all the presents in my majic Santa sack, and they come out in the order that I visit each house, apartment, teepee, mudhut, whatever.

How can you afford to buy all those gifts?

Santa: I have my own diamond mine, gold mine, platinum mine, and Yukon Cornelius generously gives me half the money he gets from his peppermint mine. It's not just the cost of the gifts, the elves are well taken care of with good health care, paid vacations, and safe friendly working conditions. The waiting list is quite long to become an elf because it really is a joy to work for me.

Thanks Santa for taking some time to answer my questions. Any advice you would like to give?

Santa: Be sure to leave out some carrots for the reindeer, you better not pout, you better not cry, and clean your chimney because I'm coming to town.

Louisiana creole lady
filled my weekend
ghost of lust lingers
my room silent as a flower
scent of powder and perfume
hangs in the air...

The ruins of our pleasure
sound of the sea
pages turning
her nearness enchanted me
perfume of wildflowers
moonlight and dew...

The fragrance of her skin
smell of her shampoo
breezes through as I inhale
the feel of her soft body
and deep wet kisses...

It was if
I had never existed elsewhere
her soft aroma lingers
left upon my rustling sheets...

Tonight I will sleep
on her side of the bed
because it still smells of her...

I sit in the kitchen, and wonder and ask:
Why am I alive- what's my purpose, my task ?
Get rich, fat and greedy, and have a great time
before I will leave this world, right in my prime...

But that can't be it. For the last shirt I'll wear
(-the one I'll be dressed in when death I will bear-)
That shirt got no pockets- No silver or gold
which I'd want to take can be carried, I'm told.

So I just sit there and keep thinking. What if
the reason for life is quite simply ‘to live’ :
To be simply grateful to breathe, and delight
in life's little gifts, day by day, night by night… ?

Those treasures which fit in one's pockets- just dreams!
in truth are quite worthless, and so it just seems
that those which I reap with my eyes- not those bought!
are those I should carry along, in my thought...

(WJB)