Last Viewed Quatrain Poems (304)

If you listen when it's still all around
You will hear the very sound of silence
It's the basic sound that is the background
That allows other sounds their existence

Silence gives music its reality
It's the space between notes that is free
This allows them to resonate freely
And that creates a sense of harmony

Silence is not the absence of something
It's a thing in itself with great power
Skilfulness of it's placement in speaking
Is the hallmark of a great orator

It can express feeling with great effect
Better than words during some occasion
Like a silent minute to mark respect
For those who gave their lives for their nation

A deeper awareness of the divine
Can be sought in silent meditation
Silence helps to focus the restless mind
Engaged in spiritual devotion

Silence is a balm for the weary soul
Providing peacefulness and upliftment
It heals the worn spirit making it whole
And fills it with deep seated contentment

A mould-shaped symmetrical bowl
has no character of its own
It's just like the mould-shaped others
and it is merely a clone
If the bowl is shattered to pieces
and the pieces stuck together once more
It creates a beautiful mosaic
that one cannot help but adore

The bark on the trunk of a young sapling
is just like that of any young tree
It is like an unwritten page
which is plain and ordinary
With age the bark gets cracked and broken
and acquires its own uniqueness
It provides a home for many insects
and becomes a thing of loveliness

WHERE THEY KEEP THE MULTI-COLORED PILLS OF PEACE
or PILLS IN PINK, PURPLE AND PANIC
I want to do something I’ve never done before
No, I don’t need to challenge the English Channel’s shore
It’s not seeing that lovely’s body with her clothes on my floor
And I certainly don’t want to blow up any babies or participate in a war

I want to do something I’ve always wanted to do
Perhaps climb in a cage with two hungry lions at the zoo….
The last thing I want is to become Jesus Christ’s whore
And I reiterate that I don’t want to participate in a war

I’d like enough time to watch a flower from seed to grow
And oddly enough I don’t care to know everything I should know
Hey, I’m just living by rolling the m****r f*****g dice
So I’m begging any one well-adjusted for adjudicated advise

So here sit I upon a chair thinking about what I’d do that I’ve never done
And needless to say, a will not war therefore I have no need for a gun
My hunger is salivating to do something new that is not a complete bore
Oh yes, I’d like to be secreted away in a closed and completely empty drug store
© 2011.....Phreepoetree ~free cee!~

Clear sky of blue and clouds of white
Bathed by sunshine above
Create such a beautiful sight
Instilling feelings of love

Lighting up the greenery below
Of the trees, grasses and plants
Giving them an enchanting glow
Setting the stage for romance

The ripples on the nearby lake
Stirred up by a gentle breeze
Invite the viewer to partake
With feelings of peace and ease

Such samples of Nature's nectar
Are free to each one of us
We are all a part of Nature
and Nature is part of us

J.D.S.

I am a reckless recluse
But I have an excuse
Society is un-sanctimonious
When I only want to hear the harmonious

I am hiding away
Awaiting a day
When people pledge peace
And nationalism will finally cease

I won’t let people find me
Not even if they’re behind me
Because I’d rather live alone
Than to live in a world I bemoan

Don’t look or search for me anywhere
Please beg do I not ever to dare
From your society I care to be exempt
Because I am a recluses content with contempt
© 2011.….Phreepoetree ~free cee!~

DOES---GOD----DO---IT----GREEK-----STYLE?

I don’t mind being labeled a fool
Why, because I’m that god-damned cool
And by the way, I am seriously dying as we speak
But until I’m dust I’ll do it just like the Greek

Zorba ain’t got a thing over me
I down ouzo people give me for free
How do I do that which you yearn to know?
Well, if it ain’t free I write a bad check and let the ouzo flow

That’s just the kind or unkind of fool I am
Foolish enough to fool all of them
All the fools and the common folk
And I may be a fool but I ain’t no joke

I hear with my heart your god’s admonition
But my foolishness will never be in remission
For the remainder of my days I’ll be this way
Disregarding that which society and your lord may say

So call me a fool if that be your will
Because I ain’t got nothing but time to kill
Until your god decides to kill this fool
But I don’t give a f**k because I’m that god-damned cool
Phreepoetree ~free cee!~

The pain of love.. what can I write,
To warn about this 'thing',
Its beauty can impair your sight,
Then like a wasp will sting.

Love at first sight ? I'm not so sure,
Approach on tippy toes,
Flirtatious eyes might be a lure,
To tears and lifelong woes.

Some love is destined not to last,
And fails the test of time,
Like actors in a play miscast,
Or verse devoid of rhyme.

This poem is written half in jest,
And half in searing pain,
But every word I can attest,
Is penned not in disdain.

For me .. in lovelife I was stung,
My heart it bore the cost,
And there at love's cold graveside flung,
A red rose white with frost.

Thunder claps
come down the hall
outside the rain
begins to fall

the raincoat hangs
upon the stand
for events like these
that come unplanned

into the street
I like to stroll
to see Mrs Toad
and Mr Mole

they live quite handy
down the road
in a typical suburban
humble abode

Mole will serve up
tea and jam
while Mrs Toad
prepares the ham

We talk of family
and local news
and trifling nothings
that do amuse

Better friends
are hard to find
they're a fitting tribute
to animal-kind

By 7 pm
I'm on my way
the rain has gone
for another day

rewritten in 50-word rhyme


Bold feathers reflecting sunbeams red
in flight’s pattern to elude
small, winged force of nature did
swoop, outsized, generations to protect, obtrude
diving hard into vulnerability, unseen but surely felt
to distract from its future’s cradled heart
dark, small, unrelenting, each blow it dealt
until regal red-tailed intruder did depart.

PYSICALLY AGED BUT SPIRITUALLY YOUTHFUL

He stared at me with his cloudy and aged eyes
Aged but oh so very wise
My girlfriend of fifteen years introduced he and I
As the figure of an intelligent man drew nigh

So he would join us for some wine and just a bit of cheese
And said “go ahead and call me “Shooter” if you please
They named me that because I wouldn’t pick up a gun
And hope I taught the very same principle to my son

Pick up the rifle, that shotgun or a sword
And I pray the words I say to my son won’t be ignored
Once you pick up that weapon of war my boy
You join the spirit of Gettysburg, Korea and Hanoi

So “Shooter” went on about what his son had done
Did he ever disrespect you and pick up a gun?
“Shooter” related all the hopes which fate would never yield
And then he whispered, “yes, he picked up a gun and died for oil and land on a foreign battlefield”
© 2011.…~ Phreepoetree free cee!~