Shape Poetry takes on the shape of its subject. Here is a list of Last Liked Shape Poetry 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.
"i search for the love one"
I search for the love one;
as i stare out of the window the zindy rain beats the glass,
I wish it could shower my pain so that i will feel that the one will know how deep i love him!
I dream of You wherever you are,
I've never known a feeling so strong, you're incredible, and I want to know you!
To love is not to experience a particular sensation in the heart; that emotion is but a reflex phenomenon, a detail of love at the least.
To love is to wish for the good, it is to give the best of one's self for the good of another;
it does not mean grasping for one's self; love means giving one's self.
Will You come to me please...
as i stare out of the window the zindy rain beats the glass,
I wish it could shower my pain so that i will feel that the one will know how deep i love him!
I dream of You wherever you are,
I've never known a feeling so strong, you're incredible, and I want to know you!
To love is not to experience a particular sensation in the heart; that emotion is but a reflex phenomenon, a detail of love at the least.
To love is to wish for the good, it is to give the best of one's self for the good of another;
it does not mean grasping for one's self; love means giving one's self.
Will You come to me please...
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Posted: Aug 2019
About this poem:
I love poetry, ,I believe that this medium is another way to reach out in faith to know you and connect with you lovingly!
ALL I HAVE LEFT
all i have left from my in home theft are sweet memories. i lost everything from gutter rats known as the north miami bch police who knocked on my door with guns drawn while hiding behind ski masks. i tried in vain to bring these marauders to justice but no luck so far but i"ll never give up. what did i do wrong to make this happen? it destroyed me and took everything i cherished.i had been living at the residense for 2 years and i had a receipt for the rent i had paid the day before.i pray that someday things will go my way,and the lord will say it"s time,i can"t let this trajedy go unpunished. down with the north miami bch police dept and forever shall they burn in hell.
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Posted: Jul 2019
About this poem:
i bring this to everyones attention cause i do not want this to happen to anyone else
City Reality
The City is a bee hive but there is no Queen....
So inhabitants have no order everybody chasing their own dream.
A colony of concrete building rising up from hot paved sidewalk,
Shoulders marching in business attire and on their cellphones they talk.
They are building something but not sure what exactly,
Only following the expectations of society.
Shoppers with shopping bags of various purchases they may never need,
Thier ego and others desired expectation they feed.
Strollers with babies pushed by bent back,tired Mothers,
Inside the exotic clubs and bars you can find the Fathers.
Theaters filled with people with no imagination,
Churches and cults with lost souls without a vision.
Teenagers dressed in the latest fashion,
Heading for a future with no income to survive on.
Yet the City draws people from far and near,
Got to get that dollar is the only voice they hear.
She arrived on the country bus with such hope,her best dress and a sparkle in her eye.
Ten years later that country bus took her back home with a swollen belly,addicted to drugs and the sparkle had died.
So inhabitants have no order everybody chasing their own dream.
A colony of concrete building rising up from hot paved sidewalk,
Shoulders marching in business attire and on their cellphones they talk.
They are building something but not sure what exactly,
Only following the expectations of society.
Shoppers with shopping bags of various purchases they may never need,
Thier ego and others desired expectation they feed.
Strollers with babies pushed by bent back,tired Mothers,
Inside the exotic clubs and bars you can find the Fathers.
Theaters filled with people with no imagination,
Churches and cults with lost souls without a vision.
Teenagers dressed in the latest fashion,
Heading for a future with no income to survive on.
Yet the City draws people from far and near,
Got to get that dollar is the only voice they hear.
She arrived on the country bus with such hope,her best dress and a sparkle in her eye.
Ten years later that country bus took her back home with a swollen belly,addicted to drugs and the sparkle had died.
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Posted: Jul 2019
About this poem:
Busy day in a busy city and it just came to me.
Not Tonight but Tomorrow (1978)
Not tonight but tomorrow
when the light turns the peach
tree green and the Earth sprouts
its young leaves looking to repeat
the magical mystery tour of
photosynthetic conversion of light
and moisture into life—
Not tonight but tomorrow
when my body will have shed
its fear of turning old and soft
will I turn my speeding mind
into the tunnels of your psyche
to melt the calcium that constipates
your synapses into a lubricating powder—
Not tonight but tomorrow
when the Universe moves on
beyond the field of action
that is the Earth to me and you
will I discover the interplanetary clues
that signal the roots of my moment to you—
Not tonight but tomorrow
will I throw my feelings into
The streets to stew
in the violence and despair
of our planet—
Not tonight but tomorrow
will the Earth turn green again.
when the light turns the peach
tree green and the Earth sprouts
its young leaves looking to repeat
the magical mystery tour of
photosynthetic conversion of light
and moisture into life—
Not tonight but tomorrow
when my body will have shed
its fear of turning old and soft
will I turn my speeding mind
into the tunnels of your psyche
to melt the calcium that constipates
your synapses into a lubricating powder—
Not tonight but tomorrow
when the Universe moves on
beyond the field of action
that is the Earth to me and you
will I discover the interplanetary clues
that signal the roots of my moment to you—
Not tonight but tomorrow
will I throw my feelings into
The streets to stew
in the violence and despair
of our planet—
Not tonight but tomorrow
will the Earth turn green again.
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Posted: Jun 2019
About this poem:
I came across this poem last night, and it captivated me with the phrasing and usage of his words.
Life
To live a life of easy living is to dream
To live a life for yourself is selfish
To live a life for others is honest
To live a life of war is sad
To live a life care free is without purpose
To live life for life sake is a blessing
All of this is good bad and other
I love to live for love is there better.
To live a life for yourself is selfish
To live a life for others is honest
To live a life of war is sad
To live a life care free is without purpose
To live life for life sake is a blessing
All of this is good bad and other
I love to live for love is there better.
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Posted: Jun 2019
About this poem:
The life you, I, and others seek is life itself. Is there anything need to be said.
Lost
Solve me do you dare,
an abyss of turmoil, do I scare?
Come feel, if you see
with eyes and heart, if thine be.
Survive I do,
with hope of life looking, looking but for who.
Need dissolves,
years and tears flows.
Surrounded, alone, wandering soul,
find me, stay my fall.
an abyss of turmoil, do I scare?
Come feel, if you see
with eyes and heart, if thine be.
Survive I do,
with hope of life looking, looking but for who.
Need dissolves,
years and tears flows.
Surrounded, alone, wandering soul,
find me, stay my fall.
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Posted: Jun 2019
About this poem:
I wrote this about 5 years ago when I was feeling extremely lonely. I was being torn inside whilst writing it, cried and felt the anguish of loneliness as it revealed itself.It took many months to finalise it and I felt better when it was all over, as if some of this pain was alleviated.
All One (Definition, Triangular, Nonet)
A
single
u n i t y,
a oneness, all
encompassing, sums
everything we now own.
Possessions of no value
defining how we are assessed.
Judged, without the monad of our souls
single
u n i t y,
a oneness, all
encompassing, sums
everything we now own.
Possessions of no value
defining how we are assessed.
Judged, without the monad of our souls
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Posted: May 2019
About this poem:
Definition poetry as the word suggests, defines the subject.Triangular poems, are one of the shapes you can make a poem conform to, in shape or concrete poetry.
Nonets are poems of nine lines, where the first line is one syllable, and you add one syllable to each subsequent line, until the ninth line has nine syllables.
The Pride of Emptiness
The Pride of emptiness is an abomination. And to talk much is the foolishness of folly. Nevertheless, its a part of wisdom to hear with patience their ignorance and to pity their obserdity.
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Posted: Feb 2019
About this poem:
This poem describes a current state humans are in. We have reached a point in our evolutionary cycle where we speak without listening to others. We may even talk when others are talking and miss the entire subject matter or the moral to a story. Being silent twice as much as we speak allows one to fully hear, fully understand, and intelligently respond.
MAMA MADE ME
THOUGH SHE IS GONE
SHE USED TO TELL ME WHEN WE WERE ALONE
THAT DRUGS GOT NO MEDICINE
THOUGH SHE IS A WOMAN
SHE RAISED ME TO BE A MAN
WHO CAN STAND AND FIGHT ON MY OWN
THAT'S WHY WHEN I WAS A KID
SHE USED TO KNOCK MY HEAD
WARNING ME NOT TO SMOKE WEED
OTHERWISE MY MIND MIGHT SLIDE
THOUGH I AM NOW OLD
I STILL MISS HER INDEED
SOMETIMES I CRY WHEN DAYS ARE WILD
IT'S A DIFFERENT MOOD
CAN'T EXPRESS IN WORDS
THOUGH I AM STILL MORNING
IT REMINDS ME BACK TO THE BEGINNING
WHEN MY LATE MOM INFRONT OF ME CLAPPING
WHILE I TRY TO WALK AT THE SAMETIME TALKING.
FOR MY MOM. 1949-1996
SHE USED TO TELL ME WHEN WE WERE ALONE
THAT DRUGS GOT NO MEDICINE
THOUGH SHE IS A WOMAN
SHE RAISED ME TO BE A MAN
WHO CAN STAND AND FIGHT ON MY OWN
THAT'S WHY WHEN I WAS A KID
SHE USED TO KNOCK MY HEAD
WARNING ME NOT TO SMOKE WEED
OTHERWISE MY MIND MIGHT SLIDE
THOUGH I AM NOW OLD
I STILL MISS HER INDEED
SOMETIMES I CRY WHEN DAYS ARE WILD
IT'S A DIFFERENT MOOD
CAN'T EXPRESS IN WORDS
THOUGH I AM STILL MORNING
IT REMINDS ME BACK TO THE BEGINNING
WHEN MY LATE MOM INFRONT OF ME CLAPPING
WHILE I TRY TO WALK AT THE SAMETIME TALKING.
FOR MY MOM. 1949-1996
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Posted: Feb 2019
About this poem:
I WROTE THIS POEM WHEN MY MOM PASSED AWAY, AT THAT TIME GOT NO DAD TOO. I WAS AN ORPHAN. SO ALL MY LIFE I HAVE BEEN READING IT. KEEPING IN SIDE MY LOCKER. TRAVELLING WITH IT EVERY WHERE I GO.IT HELPS ME WHEN I AM DOWN. I AM IN MY 40S BUT WHEN I AM ALL ALONE AND DAYS ARE COLD STILL REMEMBER HER AND WHEN I RECITE IT I SEE MY CHILD HOOD AND LAUGH.
Irish Smiling Eyes
Deep millponds of self-criticism and undiluted love
Razor Blades that cut through the tendons of sensation
Protected and hidden by time and mind
Deep intense scars run between the shoulders
Nothing is revealed in words……All behind delighted eyes
Fatally wounded together in time and place
Love for lost soul mates and all humankind
Something is mine and mine only to share
Secretly tucked away in my heart
Nothing is revealed in words…..All behind secret eyes
Curling lips wave gently into a pleasurable smile
Positive body shape piloting towards intimacy
Searching eyes see my ruptured ligaments
Sensations sting muscles once severed
Nothing is revealed in words………As my smiling eyes.. see
Geoffrey Brinton 01.09.18
Razor Blades that cut through the tendons of sensation
Protected and hidden by time and mind
Deep intense scars run between the shoulders
Nothing is revealed in words……All behind delighted eyes
Fatally wounded together in time and place
Love for lost soul mates and all humankind
Something is mine and mine only to share
Secretly tucked away in my heart
Nothing is revealed in words…..All behind secret eyes
Curling lips wave gently into a pleasurable smile
Positive body shape piloting towards intimacy
Searching eyes see my ruptured ligaments
Sensations sting muscles once severed
Nothing is revealed in words………As my smiling eyes.. see
Geoffrey Brinton 01.09.18
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Posted: Dec 2018
About this poem:
This is the first poem I have published. I have never had a lesson. I just find words for my thoughts and write.Please offer constructive comments.
Life is a very long curve
Geoff
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