Most Viewed Quatrain Poems (302)

Miles and miles lie ahead
being even and odd at places,
having rise and fall on its ways
in the horizon the path mixes.

Unknown, sill unknown it is;
the path is still undiscovered.
it attracts me to be discovered
and I am a mad on this road.

The horizon moves away further;
the lonely path does not end.
Yet my cherished end unachieved,
and ahead have I to cross that bend.

Where leads it me? To a town
where man is a worm in gutter;
where man lives in empty din and bustle
without having his bread and butter?

Man is not a beast, but rational.
Why then they exploit us and cheat?
For us corruption covers them
under the umbrella of power to treat.

Here is no resort to take rest;
The lonely path lies ahead,and
I'm the lonely traveller on it
making my journey forward.

Come on my ways scenes natural:
lakes, forests, hills and vales.
Alive! Alive they are all
as I had heard in various tales.

A village perhaps is there
where leads me this path!
Yes, in this enchanted valley
there is at the centre of this earth.

Far form the noisy world, it is
amidst a calm and quiet atmosphere.
People are happy and of good nature.
Life is smooth and busy here.

It seems Paradise exists here.
Across it the lonely path lies further.
I'm the lonely traveller on it;
have to move through good and bad weather

to find out my own SELF, own nature,
like the path that itself differs
from place to place -- the most
vital lesson that it offers.

The vast night sky, my empty page,
In starlit words I sink,
Moon beams ignite my muse and sage,
And steep my thoughts in ink.

I gazed inside my heart to write,
Where flows a lifelong stream,
I dipped my pen in to the night,
And wrote a morning theme.

My poems they can be dark or bright,
As feelings I impart,
Conveying sorrow or delight,
But always from the heart.

Hear my advice, my poet friends,
In fantasy just roam,
Poetic vision never ends,
So dream and write a poem.

You're not set, your will is free,
You can be who you wish to be,
Because the future is, you see,
A cloud of possibility.

Each fork come to in the road,
Might change your methods or your mode,
And forks just like genetic code,
Have branches with their leaves abode.

Left or right, fair maid, cat,
These cusps to make decisions at,
Crooked lines, this way and that,
Determines where we'll hang our hat.

Hang your hat up in the air,
And rise to meet it hanging there,
Float around in this headwear,
Let it take you anywhere.

When you tire of floatin' 'round,
Just come back where your home is found,
Plant your feet on solid ground,
And tell us all the things you've found.

‘TWIXT A TWERP AND A TWIN

are you the one who is trying to come ‘twixt she and me?
Are you the one who makes her blush like the roses we Are blessed to see?
Couldst you be the one to split up a couple alegedly laden with love?
And are you the one who promised to gather and grant her every star above?

Wouldst thou presume to have the power
At any second, minute or hour
To make me fade like a fireplace and its smoke
And then try to rekindle the embers she came to stoke

Must you be taught about her ample lust?
And the pies she bakes with a buttery crust?
Will you be the one, the weed and the wedge?
But take heed when she’s tries to lead you the edge

So, you must be the one who thinks himself suave and urbane
Okay, I say, go learn about the intricacies of the lady’s brain
Then strike up a conversation about being handsome and rich
Do all that because I certainly don’t want the ignorant b*tch
© 2011.….free cee! PHREEPOETREE

SHE WROTE THIS POEM (I HAVE DIMENTIA)

Often we meet new people and know
We just don’t know what to say
Sometimes you just want to rise up and go
But then the lord of dance wills you to stay

I always compare it to a dove seeking a mate
While landing with grace on the highest tower
The dove knows all about providence and fate
While the Lord of dance grants him a power

Suddenly where a dove roosted all alone
Because of the power he had been granted
Two doves agreed to face the unknown
Because seeds will grow if properly planted

Sitting by a fast food restaurant waiting
Watching people pass by and time as well
This is that which I am unequivocally stating
To some pretty lady I’m a pretty hard sell

So the dance continues or it fades away
No melody, no harmony and everything seems wrong
But oftentimes the Lord of dance has his say
And sometimes two start singing the very same song
(c) 2011....~SHE!~

I shouldn't but I do
Have command of my lovers hands,
Though I don't need their tanned advances
Or their delightfully soft demands.

Flecked with yellow and cinnamon
His lovely warm brown eyes,
Are the charming and most disarming
Keys to my demise.

For I drown in their soft beauty
Regardless of where he reposes ,
So he plies me with Belgian chocolates
Wrapped up in the reddest of roses.

Trapped here within this blackest of sin
That surrounds me when he is gone,
I know,
It's wrong,
His gold ring tells me so,
But when he begs, 'Be my other woman'
Then my lips just won't whisper 'no'.

the meal of one course
not for a horse
on goes the sauce
with legitimate force

mince and cheese
oh yes please
butter chicken
that's what I'm pickin'

steak and veg
I wish to pledge
is comfort food
when in the mood

On a frosty Winter's evening,
In a haunting moonlight glare,
I remembered perished loved ones,
With a solemn silent prayer.

There the flickers of the firelight,
Cast live shadows on the gloom,
Like the ghosts of souls departed,
Came alive within the room.

I could sence parental spirits,
Place their marble hands in mine,
As they coaxed me from the armchair,
Up to waltz with them entwined.

Yet although their steps were silent,
And they spoke with soundless air,
Their warm aura was a blessing,
Of which I was unaware.

For their lives on earth weren't easy,
In those woeful days of yore,
Yet together lived contented,
Through the suffering they bore.

Hope and gratitude they gifted,
All my worries were benign,
As the two kind hearted spectres,
Soon returned to the divine.

With the dying of the embers,
Came our parting bittersweet,
As the fading of the shadows,
Were their spirits in retreat

They bestowed a saintly message,
Scribed in smoke upon the wall,
" Always pray for fallen angels,
And no harm shall you befall."

Now it's lonesome by the fireside,
On the floor.. a teardrop stain,
And I pray my kindred guardians,
Will return to dance again.

DEATH WAS THE SECRET AND DOPE WAS THE PRIZE

We had so much back then to apologize for
A thousand things, perhaps even more
There was the broken, the smashed and much of the cracked
We did a lot of damage and that’s a f**king fact

Most stood transfixed on the destruction being done
But they were just bystanders blinded by the sun
And when their eyes were no longer shut what did they see?
They saw collateral damage and people like me

As Hansel and Gretel we followed a path of tears
Because for years it’s that kind of regret that adheres
One doesn’t simply say dry your eyes and it’s over
That would be akin to a weed turning into a clover

Yes, those years were a backdrop on a primordial stage
A play written, directed, and produced by the universe and its rage
There came a time when our eyes betrayed who and what we’d all become
And suddenly a lot of people decided to walk around doped up and numb

Then some prestidigitator president and his specious spouse opened her big mouth
When they realized the problem had spread from east to west and north to south
Give the kids a slogan about “just saying no” and they’ll follow all the rules
See, that’s what happens when you hand this country over to fools

We’d held demonstrations about racism and were maddened by war
And with battle comes death while we were all keeping score
Yes, we had a lot of things back then to apologize for
But I’m telling you, your corrupt government has a lot more
© 2011.….Phreepoetry ~free cee!~

just once I'll feel love
until then I'll just wait
sitting patiently, sort of
trying to self-actuate

once hope reigns it's hopeless
no need to cast love aside
catch a lightness to possess
enchanting oneness a rising tide

I'll dig holes for your treasure
'til my hands all calloused and raw
leave lid of chest to open pleasure
let aloneness be a forgotten flaw

feel my way into hearts chamber
each beat another rush of life
ever closer to life's remainder
living begins when hearts derive

love in all it's myriad forms
overt or subtle in it's display
vales are lifted and we transform
enclosed with love, our own cliché

© agoodguy2have 2011-07-13