Here is a list of Most Commented Abstract 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.
The Castle on the Hill
The castle on the hill's consciousness dreamed
Of a new era, where time itself stands still
In this vortex where light and life is well met
Throughout the age of history, imposters might apply
With swords that parry, coinside with the scholar's pen
Warring words that might cause conflict deep inside
The walls of this castle that has withstood the sweat
Built from man's own hands and against the oceans' wave
Weathered but beaten conflict, strength within, pride comes
Before the fall, that questions the ownership of mine
Discernment made, as to who sits on that silver throne
Picking up the pieces of the jigsaw, as the debris
That was once called home
And its this castle particularly that has secrets to hide
Concealment trapped in its own kin lies, a traitor among us
Setting a trail of embers, as the phoenix does indeed emerge
Tornados of fire that clear the path through the conflict free
Leaving the travellers on the path aware in its wake
After making the resolute decision that these travellers make
Hearts heavy, they turn back towards home, knowing
That nobody in this time can pick up their mobile 'phones
By the ember that rises higher with the breeze
Bringing the traitor in question down to his knees
The travellers, warriors in their own making, stated
And created a warm fire bursting forth from the pit of their bellies
Wading through the wreckage and healing through the swelling
A pen that wields swords with magnimamous wit
That can parry as any warrior can with inspiration, tremendously lit
Will fire the hearts of many that read this through with warmth from above
That feeling which unites us is indeed called
Love
Of a new era, where time itself stands still
In this vortex where light and life is well met
Throughout the age of history, imposters might apply
With swords that parry, coinside with the scholar's pen
Warring words that might cause conflict deep inside
The walls of this castle that has withstood the sweat
Built from man's own hands and against the oceans' wave
Weathered but beaten conflict, strength within, pride comes
Before the fall, that questions the ownership of mine
Discernment made, as to who sits on that silver throne
Picking up the pieces of the jigsaw, as the debris
That was once called home
And its this castle particularly that has secrets to hide
Concealment trapped in its own kin lies, a traitor among us
Setting a trail of embers, as the phoenix does indeed emerge
Tornados of fire that clear the path through the conflict free
Leaving the travellers on the path aware in its wake
After making the resolute decision that these travellers make
Hearts heavy, they turn back towards home, knowing
That nobody in this time can pick up their mobile 'phones
By the ember that rises higher with the breeze
Bringing the traitor in question down to his knees
The travellers, warriors in their own making, stated
And created a warm fire bursting forth from the pit of their bellies
Wading through the wreckage and healing through the swelling
A pen that wields swords with magnimamous wit
That can parry as any warrior can with inspiration, tremendously lit
Will fire the hearts of many that read this through with warmth from above
That feeling which unites us is indeed called
Love
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 6
About this poem:
inspiration
Mountain full of Gold
A mountain full of gold, just double it up but still won’t be enough for a man
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 6
About this poem:
Is a music like I toke as a poem
My Broken Window
Outside my broken window, the light begins to fade ...
at least that's how the evening tide makes it seem...
I look into my closed mind ,
to see if I can walk the night ...
to bridge the gap ,
to keep close to me ,
the warm, life giving light...
I look outside my window broken ...
and what remains of this life ,
kneading and treading the old paths,
cognizant and privy to the new ....
with a measure of heart,
standing...with shields of Faith,
Hope and Love,
I will traverse the landscapes before me,
those paths most welcome...and those not.
Gregory Sexton
3:59 PM
at least that's how the evening tide makes it seem...
I look into my closed mind ,
to see if I can walk the night ...
to bridge the gap ,
to keep close to me ,
the warm, life giving light...
I look outside my window broken ...
and what remains of this life ,
kneading and treading the old paths,
cognizant and privy to the new ....
with a measure of heart,
standing...with shields of Faith,
Hope and Love,
I will traverse the landscapes before me,
those paths most welcome...and those not.
Gregory Sexton
3:59 PM
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2017
Post CommentSweet
Girl you so sweet I would maybe like to meet. I hope you like KFC that's the place to be so think about it girl so I can sweep you off your feet.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2017
Post CommentCA LuPa
Why is ever girl on this site like fifty or more. Is there any mid age women like twenty or even thirtys on this site let me know if you would like to talk about to quit .
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2017
Post CommentMeek mill
Why feed her red lobster when you got the dollar menu .
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2017
Post Comment
The Ride
The twang of strings from a distant guitar strumming meticulously, tingled her eardrums.
The climb to her task seemed to stretch for miles.
Hesitation
Perspiration sparkled on her brow.
On top at last the wind swept across and through the fabric that was wearing her.
Instant security overcame her loins then it started
Movement beneath her slow and calculating.
She ran her fingers through her locs, she was feeling free.
The strumming in the distance intensified below her back and forth up and down.
She rolled her tongue over the glossy lipstick on her upper lip.
Where was she?
Whistling, cheering, moisture was developing.
The rhythm underneath her was firmer, swifter.
Her breathing heavier, faster, faster, deeper, deeper, up and down, around.
She felt around her,
The touch something leather.
She opened her eyes, a saddle, lights up down, back, forth; calmer; eyes wider.
The ride on the mechanical bull had come to an end amongst a crowd cheering and applauding.
The climb to her task seemed to stretch for miles.
Hesitation
Perspiration sparkled on her brow.
On top at last the wind swept across and through the fabric that was wearing her.
Instant security overcame her loins then it started
Movement beneath her slow and calculating.
She ran her fingers through her locs, she was feeling free.
The strumming in the distance intensified below her back and forth up and down.
She rolled her tongue over the glossy lipstick on her upper lip.
Where was she?
Whistling, cheering, moisture was developing.
The rhythm underneath her was firmer, swifter.
Her breathing heavier, faster, faster, deeper, deeper, up and down, around.
She felt around her,
The touch something leather.
She opened her eyes, a saddle, lights up down, back, forth; calmer; eyes wider.
The ride on the mechanical bull had come to an end amongst a crowd cheering and applauding.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Oct 2016
About this poem:
This poem is about a night leaving Tijuana, Mexico. My friend and I had parked on the American side and walked over in the 90's you could do that. On our way out she dared me to ride on a mechanical bull that was near where we exited. This was the experience from that ride.It is part of a collection of poetry that has been turned into a novel I'm looking forward to having published very soon.
Kidnapped
My heart has been kidnapped
by a man from England
He is quite hot
and has charisma.
by a man from England
He is quite hot
and has charisma.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2016
About this poem:
Very short poem about a pirate that I like. :)
Memories
Where the shadows faded in the deepest places,
Truth yet kept me flying just beneath the wind.
Crossed my mind from inside, vanished sleeping phases,
Sorry for my future, even if I've sinned.
Truth yet kept me flying just beneath the wind.
Crossed my mind from inside, vanished sleeping phases,
Sorry for my future, even if I've sinned.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2016
Post CommentPerfect Paths
Alone on my perfect paths I sit
observe with clarity the multi-senses around me
wait for prey
Now the wind is my friend
stretching my paths
I watch them resonate
through one of my eyes
It's not yet time to move
sit silent and still
Restless not I
my enduring patience
hunger I feel, more
desire the freedom of
being triggered
to perfectly run
on my perfect paths.
This makes their blood chill
They flutter in my eye-grid
as I nimbly relocate,
seldom am I seen in my logical arrival.
If nothing has disturbed my paths
my work is already half done.
Trapped and tangled
menace alone can kill
All that remains is one sharp prick
finer than a spider's web
and that which once buzzed
and whet my appetite
I wrap in the finest of silk
for none visit me apart from
my perfect guests
entering my home along my perfect paths
Foul weak buzzing foolishness
albeit with sweet tasting juices
Ignorant careless wrecker of perfect paths
lie now still in your silken dinner-jacket
All that remains is one sharp prick
finer than a spider's web
and the buzzing one is gone.
To whet my appetite
I spin the finest of silk
for none visit me apart from
my perfect guests
entering my home along my perfect paths
observe with clarity the multi-senses around me
wait for prey
Now the wind is my friend
stretching my paths
I watch them resonate
through one of my eyes
It's not yet time to move
sit silent and still
Restless not I
my enduring patience
hunger I feel, more
desire the freedom of
being triggered
to perfectly run
on my perfect paths.
This makes their blood chill
They flutter in my eye-grid
as I nimbly relocate,
seldom am I seen in my logical arrival.
If nothing has disturbed my paths
my work is already half done.
Trapped and tangled
menace alone can kill
All that remains is one sharp prick
finer than a spider's web
and that which once buzzed
and whet my appetite
I wrap in the finest of silk
for none visit me apart from
my perfect guests
entering my home along my perfect paths
Foul weak buzzing foolishness
albeit with sweet tasting juices
Ignorant careless wrecker of perfect paths
lie now still in your silken dinner-jacket
All that remains is one sharp prick
finer than a spider's web
and the buzzing one is gone.
To whet my appetite
I spin the finest of silk
for none visit me apart from
my perfect guests
entering my home along my perfect paths
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2014
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