Here is a list of Most Commented Prose 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.
acquiesce
A bumper sticker reads: Don’t believe everything you Think. Gradually we come to know who and what holds the cards in this game... First of all, she does. A woman’s intuition, belief and persistence is why humankind moves along the course it does. Society evolves from tribes, electricity from torches, community from hierarchy, and Love from proliferation. All the Arts combined, invention and marvels, pages through history attribute to her determined wish.
Quiet reminders appear every day. Her world does not hang in precarious balance. Everything tangible forms a collective, whether gravel in a pile, or brows above the eyes. With tolerance shown for insults from behind, pardon throws a rope to those mired in their own quicksand. Time and motion press the sails, that together we embark and attest all these:
She thrives on newness, the freshness arises ahead the sun each day. It’s certainly not about what’s settled for, neither any justice waiting year upon year, waiting for the ideal script. New brooms sweep clean, then also must she; dispenses with regrets and clutter long past. It’s about to-do's in the now of today, whether alone or together a couple. Invest in her and she shall double the return. No rocket science, but resounds within hope and romance. Afforded sanctuary regardless of social status.
The Sovereign Seal on the scroll reveals that You are loved prior to any one like myself having said; before disbelief had set in. So too with succinct melodies accompanying streams of consciousness. They combine to proclaim the instant new miracles come to be. It is true that your voice effervesces with music, so beautiful to say. And why not include that ancient orb of benevolence, that slow rolling silvery moon. Patrols the neighborhood this side of the stars, and not some distant nebulae. That vast overstretch, apex to horizon, ever yours gathered forth in a sampling.
Any man can spot the silhouette of a woman a mile and a half away. And because hers is cast from things lovely and bright, his gets thereby shaken. His will translate to items at hand, hers the adorn of Creation. Indomitable mystique inherent the feminine entity. Most of that he thinks he knows account less than a stitch and hem. It is the here and now of my own perplex, speak into the vacuum, weak at the knees, while she remains fixed on her tapestry, continues looping the fibers, continues while softly singing.
So now when you say there is much more to her than meets the eye, you can say it with a bit more conviction.
Quiet reminders appear every day. Her world does not hang in precarious balance. Everything tangible forms a collective, whether gravel in a pile, or brows above the eyes. With tolerance shown for insults from behind, pardon throws a rope to those mired in their own quicksand. Time and motion press the sails, that together we embark and attest all these:
She thrives on newness, the freshness arises ahead the sun each day. It’s certainly not about what’s settled for, neither any justice waiting year upon year, waiting for the ideal script. New brooms sweep clean, then also must she; dispenses with regrets and clutter long past. It’s about to-do's in the now of today, whether alone or together a couple. Invest in her and she shall double the return. No rocket science, but resounds within hope and romance. Afforded sanctuary regardless of social status.
The Sovereign Seal on the scroll reveals that You are loved prior to any one like myself having said; before disbelief had set in. So too with succinct melodies accompanying streams of consciousness. They combine to proclaim the instant new miracles come to be. It is true that your voice effervesces with music, so beautiful to say. And why not include that ancient orb of benevolence, that slow rolling silvery moon. Patrols the neighborhood this side of the stars, and not some distant nebulae. That vast overstretch, apex to horizon, ever yours gathered forth in a sampling.
Any man can spot the silhouette of a woman a mile and a half away. And because hers is cast from things lovely and bright, his gets thereby shaken. His will translate to items at hand, hers the adorn of Creation. Indomitable mystique inherent the feminine entity. Most of that he thinks he knows account less than a stitch and hem. It is the here and now of my own perplex, speak into the vacuum, weak at the knees, while she remains fixed on her tapestry, continues looping the fibers, continues while softly singing.
So now when you say there is much more to her than meets the eye, you can say it with a bit more conviction.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2016
Post Comment
I love you first
I loved you first: but afterwards your love
Outsoaring mine, sang such a loftier song
As drowned the friendly cooings of my dove.
Which owes the other most? my love was long,
And yours one moment seemed to wax more strong;
I loved and guessed at you, you construed me
And loved me for what might or might not be –
Nay, weights and measures do us both a wrong.
For verily love knows not ‘mine’ or ‘thine;’
With separate ‘I’ and ‘thou’ free love has done,
For one is both and both are one in love:
Rich love knows nought of ‘thine that is not mine;’
Both have the strength and both the length thereof,
Both of us, of the love which makes us one
Outsoaring mine, sang such a loftier song
As drowned the friendly cooings of my dove.
Which owes the other most? my love was long,
And yours one moment seemed to wax more strong;
I loved and guessed at you, you construed me
And loved me for what might or might not be –
Nay, weights and measures do us both a wrong.
For verily love knows not ‘mine’ or ‘thine;’
With separate ‘I’ and ‘thou’ free love has done,
For one is both and both are one in love:
Rich love knows nought of ‘thine that is not mine;’
Both have the strength and both the length thereof,
Both of us, of the love which makes us one
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2017
About this poem:
I love you first tell how much you feels and big in your heart
At the Crossroads
“At the crossroads I stand: which way should I turn?
I know not whence I shall find life.
Around me is danger, great, life-threat’ning danger;
Oh, where shall I turn from sin’s strife?”
“Friend, look up before you! Up there on the hill
stands the cross of Golgotha—there!
‘Tis where Jesus hung bleeding, for man-kind e’er pleading—
there our pain and our sins gladly bear.”
Run, sinner, run! Jesus longs now to save you!
Come now to the cross where He died!
Look up to your Saviour, for He reigns now in Heaven—
He’ll forgive if to Him you will fly.
“If any would lay their sins and their burdens
upon Me: Lo, I will give rest:
Forsake now your toil that leads to destruction
and come lay thine head on My breast.”
~Rebecca L.
November 15, 2014
I know not whence I shall find life.
Around me is danger, great, life-threat’ning danger;
Oh, where shall I turn from sin’s strife?”
“Friend, look up before you! Up there on the hill
stands the cross of Golgotha—there!
‘Tis where Jesus hung bleeding, for man-kind e’er pleading—
there our pain and our sins gladly bear.”
Run, sinner, run! Jesus longs now to save you!
Come now to the cross where He died!
Look up to your Saviour, for He reigns now in Heaven—
He’ll forgive if to Him you will fly.
“If any would lay their sins and their burdens
upon Me: Lo, I will give rest:
Forsake now your toil that leads to destruction
and come lay thine head on My breast.”
~Rebecca L.
November 15, 2014
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: May 2017
About this poem:
This is a poem of the turmoil that every human being faces. Many subconsciously face these feelings, and drown their guilt and pain through intoxication and other addictive measures. The second part of the poem shows Jesus' compassion to all and that He cares about us in what we go through. He is ready and willing to receive us and save us if we will lay our sins at His feet in repentance.A Poet's Ponderings
O, fellowman, do you not hear the voice of nature newly born?
Bright-pearled dew, the robin's trill, the stirring of the early morn?
How sweet it is, if you'd be still, to hear God's message from His heart:
That if we would see His gifts that He doth now impart...
How much you'd learn from nature's ways that governments of men
do seem to shun and do not know the wisdom it displays!
The Lord made all we see: the trees and creeping things
He made for our delight; not just His own for joy and awe to bring.
Bright-pearled dew, the robin's trill, the stirring of the early morn?
How sweet it is, if you'd be still, to hear God's message from His heart:
That if we would see His gifts that He doth now impart...
How much you'd learn from nature's ways that governments of men
do seem to shun and do not know the wisdom it displays!
The Lord made all we see: the trees and creeping things
He made for our delight; not just His own for joy and awe to bring.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: May 2017
About this poem:
It was a lovely day when I wrote this. I had just read an article about weather modification and was wondering how in the world man could convince himself that he is better than God to decide he can play with the weather. It has destroyed a lot of the earth with man's playing around with things. If only he could leave it alone and let God control the earth.
River side
the spirit of love
true sense of search
an ocean of thoughts
which rights to part
stretching my hands
breathing my heart
my eyes on the path
a passion for strange love
who quench my thrust
over green river belt
a dream of loving soul
the spirit of love
true sense of search
an ocean of thoughts
which rights to part
stretching my hands
breathing my heart
my eyes on the path
a passion for strange love
who quench my thrust
over green river belt
a dream of loving soul
the spirit of love
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: May 2017
About this poem:
this poem is a hope of ray for young propleFairy Tales
We live in a land of fairy tales
Old and new
And from the mouths of Kings and rulers
Every deceit spews
In religion there is a happy end
And in New Age we just ascend
On the World Wide Web
We can focus on the next celeb
That’s playing the evil Lucifer
Or, should we just elect Jeb
And become
A dynasty connoisseur
Of stories, paths and roads traveled
Hopelessly unraveled
While we keep the status quo
The truth may well be
That some fairy tales just blow
We should agree
Really light up and rearrange
Rework change
The paradigm has no end in sight
Riddled with continuous ‘fright or flight’
Time for a rewrite
What to do on planet earth
Ah…visualize rebirth
Simply unplug from the matrix
All the ideologies and tricks
Make your own world
Neatly knitted and purled
With threads of silver and gold
Be bold
Don’t look back
No backtrack
In your own fairytale you are the Knight
Keep moving toward the quintessential light
Because if you don’t have a dog in the fight
Unplugging is right
Nothing in this world to fear
Just tell ‘em “I’m not from around here”
Live a life of happily ever after
Filled with gobs of laughter
Cut the strings of the puppeteer
Then simply . . . disappear
Into the fairytale reality you create
Because, it’s going to be absolutely great!
© Jade Anjoun / 2015
Old and new
And from the mouths of Kings and rulers
Every deceit spews
In religion there is a happy end
And in New Age we just ascend
On the World Wide Web
We can focus on the next celeb
That’s playing the evil Lucifer
Or, should we just elect Jeb
And become
A dynasty connoisseur
Of stories, paths and roads traveled
Hopelessly unraveled
While we keep the status quo
The truth may well be
That some fairy tales just blow
We should agree
Really light up and rearrange
Rework change
The paradigm has no end in sight
Riddled with continuous ‘fright or flight’
Time for a rewrite
What to do on planet earth
Ah…visualize rebirth
Simply unplug from the matrix
All the ideologies and tricks
Make your own world
Neatly knitted and purled
With threads of silver and gold
Be bold
Don’t look back
No backtrack
In your own fairytale you are the Knight
Keep moving toward the quintessential light
Because if you don’t have a dog in the fight
Unplugging is right
Nothing in this world to fear
Just tell ‘em “I’m not from around here”
Live a life of happily ever after
Filled with gobs of laughter
Cut the strings of the puppeteer
Then simply . . . disappear
Into the fairytale reality you create
Because, it’s going to be absolutely great!
© Jade Anjoun / 2015
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2022
About this poem:
Signs of the times when written and unfortunately getting worse; thinking of creating freedom within. .
the last job
"when I buried hate
and then forgave
a poem grew
around the grave"
The old man appeared surly, because he WAS surly. He spent the latter part of the day as he had it's commencement, trying to fit in.
Wilbur was a town much like any other. It had once been a destination. Now it was a way to another way. Viewed from an elevated pass, it was not unlike a medical sketch of the human heart. An arterial way in, a mixing chamber .. and a road out. As with any heart, women were found there. But that's another story.
The man studied the faces of the men who drank with him. A shot glass was swallowed by his hand before his throat made sure. Cigar smoke hung heavy, and a card game pitched and rolled around the workings of his ear. All his work was done a town ago. The spoils lay in a bag by his feet under the table. Every now and then, when it took his fancy to do so, he felt down for his holster. It was a cold day in a God forsaken town, but the still warm barrel bestowed a peace on him.
The old man had wounds. The kind only whiskey could cauterise. His scars visible only to the workings of his mind. He was the second to the last one born, toiling for food on his daddy's farm, scratching an existence from dust and hopelessness.
A blacksmith will impart wisdom to a man, if you are fortunate enough to know one of even temper. Metal is very much like character. Some wilt in the furnace of tribulation, some are made stronger. Some, it turns out, are even remade by terrible pain.
The old man's story would be told in the newspapers and wanted signs. In the throats of story tellers and in the cautionary sermons of learned men. But the true nature of his business was between him and his father. He didn't rob that bank and kill those men to take something. He was giving something away.
His name.
and then forgave
a poem grew
around the grave"
The old man appeared surly, because he WAS surly. He spent the latter part of the day as he had it's commencement, trying to fit in.
Wilbur was a town much like any other. It had once been a destination. Now it was a way to another way. Viewed from an elevated pass, it was not unlike a medical sketch of the human heart. An arterial way in, a mixing chamber .. and a road out. As with any heart, women were found there. But that's another story.
The man studied the faces of the men who drank with him. A shot glass was swallowed by his hand before his throat made sure. Cigar smoke hung heavy, and a card game pitched and rolled around the workings of his ear. All his work was done a town ago. The spoils lay in a bag by his feet under the table. Every now and then, when it took his fancy to do so, he felt down for his holster. It was a cold day in a God forsaken town, but the still warm barrel bestowed a peace on him.
The old man had wounds. The kind only whiskey could cauterise. His scars visible only to the workings of his mind. He was the second to the last one born, toiling for food on his daddy's farm, scratching an existence from dust and hopelessness.
A blacksmith will impart wisdom to a man, if you are fortunate enough to know one of even temper. Metal is very much like character. Some wilt in the furnace of tribulation, some are made stronger. Some, it turns out, are even remade by terrible pain.
The old man's story would be told in the newspapers and wanted signs. In the throats of story tellers and in the cautionary sermons of learned men. But the true nature of his business was between him and his father. He didn't rob that bank and kill those men to take something. He was giving something away.
His name.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2019
Post Comment
In My Meadow
The sunlight silhouetting an amazing canopy
Grass more green than any time all the year
Shadows now larger than summer's smallness
Makes you wonder as you watch when it appears
Like fingers crossed symbols of luck they bring
The autumn season will take longer to pass
How the weathered leaves rattle in the breeze
The ever shifting clouds curving across the sky
The emblem that I love snapping to attention
Then resting at ease in the calm afternoon
Trained to all the mornings glowing valleys
Glory to the life I own in my west meadows
Tied to all our country's strong moorings
A fabric of love and devotion to family will I sing
A fierce determination towards freedom
Life hanging desperately at times by a thread
I shall seek no further and ask no more
I shall not cower in the shadows that hide me
I shall not attempt to overcome all the tears
Because if I do I have to commit to it
So, I can’t stand back any longer in fear
Because fear is not something I contrive
I don’t recognize fear so what keeps me alive
What possible example does fear represent
How it belongs to anything I ever thought about
Possibilities created against guarantees
I seriously and most substantially disagree
But getting back to that sunset in my meadow
The grass is really, really getting green
Grass more green than any time all the year
Shadows now larger than summer's smallness
Makes you wonder as you watch when it appears
Like fingers crossed symbols of luck they bring
The autumn season will take longer to pass
How the weathered leaves rattle in the breeze
The ever shifting clouds curving across the sky
The emblem that I love snapping to attention
Then resting at ease in the calm afternoon
Trained to all the mornings glowing valleys
Glory to the life I own in my west meadows
Tied to all our country's strong moorings
A fabric of love and devotion to family will I sing
A fierce determination towards freedom
Life hanging desperately at times by a thread
I shall seek no further and ask no more
I shall not cower in the shadows that hide me
I shall not attempt to overcome all the tears
Because if I do I have to commit to it
So, I can’t stand back any longer in fear
Because fear is not something I contrive
I don’t recognize fear so what keeps me alive
What possible example does fear represent
How it belongs to anything I ever thought about
Possibilities created against guarantees
I seriously and most substantially disagree
But getting back to that sunset in my meadow
The grass is really, really getting green
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2022
About this poem:
Discussion about what fears us and how we overcome fear.It’s lovely to see you again
How time passes quickly by
No more than a blink of an eye
Is this really where we meet
Among so many strangers as we share a seat
It’s been sometime that we’ve last spoken
Somewhere inside memories have woken
Is it really that long ago?
I look older but I guess you know
As you can tell eventually
The years rolled on I got married as well
Feelings I have I thought went away
But seeing you now they were meant to stay
After all these years we are back on our own
And the cruelness of age has placed us here in this home
Perhaps companionship was meant to be
I know I’ve missed you but have you missed me
Yes it’s lovely to see you again
My friend
Come sit a while
A while, yes awhile
It’s so lovely to see you again
My friend
I see we’ve learnt to smile
To smile, yes to smile
No more than a blink of an eye
Is this really where we meet
Among so many strangers as we share a seat
It’s been sometime that we’ve last spoken
Somewhere inside memories have woken
Is it really that long ago?
I look older but I guess you know
As you can tell eventually
The years rolled on I got married as well
Feelings I have I thought went away
But seeing you now they were meant to stay
After all these years we are back on our own
And the cruelness of age has placed us here in this home
Perhaps companionship was meant to be
I know I’ve missed you but have you missed me
Yes it’s lovely to see you again
My friend
Come sit a while
A while, yes awhile
It’s so lovely to see you again
My friend
I see we’ve learnt to smile
To smile, yes to smile
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2019
Post CommentUpstate NY college town
Noontime whistle atop the volunteer fire station
awakens every motorcycle within the radius
repurposing every decibel left over since the big bang
Traffic lanes tighten but keep on moving
the venturi sets empty cups to rolling, with straws still stuck in
whatever
And because some students have cars and cars have tires
a man in hi-viz vest tugs and strains on a 4-way wrench
another friday night oops to support the local economy
His fee will be proportionate to the squeal of stubborn lugs
if the Judge was involved, well then he or she's invoicing too
whatever
No net effect on unlimited data plans
point of sale pizza, flavored vapes, or bedbug powder
Nearest damn salt water beach a good five hour drive
south by southeast in this case
seldom is that considered that do-able from here
local law enforcement barely lets the kids breathe anyway
lucky enough swim in a few nearby mud ponds
or get to finish their courses here
whatever
A lot of apparatus is in place to keep things green
apart and away and unresponsive to rural towns brown
A million congrat's to Yale and Harvard, these; the other
hallowed halls of long-term planning across and threw-outs
this big ol' land o' ours
A quick hundred years having opted in
and cannibalize their own
Voracious appetite can be surgically corrected
absent anesthesia
however which and
whatever
Most of the cups have been squashed by now
the lids and straws need more running over
the yin and yang for not picking them up
The calendar keeps traffic moving
retail supply rolls 24/7
boardrooms collect the stat's
awakens every motorcycle within the radius
repurposing every decibel left over since the big bang
Traffic lanes tighten but keep on moving
the venturi sets empty cups to rolling, with straws still stuck in
whatever
And because some students have cars and cars have tires
a man in hi-viz vest tugs and strains on a 4-way wrench
another friday night oops to support the local economy
His fee will be proportionate to the squeal of stubborn lugs
if the Judge was involved, well then he or she's invoicing too
whatever
No net effect on unlimited data plans
point of sale pizza, flavored vapes, or bedbug powder
Nearest damn salt water beach a good five hour drive
south by southeast in this case
seldom is that considered that do-able from here
local law enforcement barely lets the kids breathe anyway
lucky enough swim in a few nearby mud ponds
or get to finish their courses here
whatever
A lot of apparatus is in place to keep things green
apart and away and unresponsive to rural towns brown
A million congrat's to Yale and Harvard, these; the other
hallowed halls of long-term planning across and threw-outs
this big ol' land o' ours
A quick hundred years having opted in
and cannibalize their own
Voracious appetite can be surgically corrected
absent anesthesia
however which and
whatever
Most of the cups have been squashed by now
the lids and straws need more running over
the yin and yang for not picking them up
The calendar keeps traffic moving
retail supply rolls 24/7
boardrooms collect the stat's
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2018
About this poem:
a termpaperPoems 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.
This is a list of poems submitted by CS members. Click 'Details' tab to see all poems, or click on a poem title to view and comment on individual poems. Click headings to sort by comments or views.
Would YOU like to post a poem in the Poet's Corner? Have you written poetry that you'd like to share with other members? Posting your poetry shows your skill and creativity and helps members get to know you better. Your poem will appear on the Connecting Singles Poetry page and also in a link on your profile page.
Click here to publish your poetry »