131 results for 'poetry'
No matter how hard it seems The weight on your shoulders The load on your back The pain you must carry There will be a tomorrow
Even if the rain is pouring And the flooding is rising And the thunder is roaring And the lightning is striking There will be a tomorrow
If the house is shaking And the windows are creeking And the doors are banging And the floor is trembling There will be a tomorrow
Continuation won’t stop Time and life will not cease The hands on the clock Will continue to tick There will be a tomorrow
And with that next day You will see a new sunrise... (more)
Why do you cry?
What is the reason for each tear that falls from your eye?
Is it because of the crime you see?
Do you cry because of the father who beat his child because she wouldn't sit in her car-seat?
Or was it because of the man who stole the old lady's purse and then pushed her down while saying a curse?
Or was it the gossipy school girls again speaking while pointing at the homeless man, causing him pain?
Or was it when the mother yelled at her daughter and made a scene, that embarrassed the little girl to extreme?
Or was... (more)
This is a poem I wrote one night after meditating with the angels. I feel that I was guided to write these words and I would like to share them with you.
Angel whispers in the nightBe still don’t fight the soundCreeping in through your sleeping dreamsWhere memories floodThis healing comesDon’t fight the soundBe still don’t’ cry The angels hold you nearLet go the pain and anguish feltLet healing be the cureAngel wings unfolding now Like blankets draped aroundComing closeThe comfort seekYou cannot hear a soundRemove the veil that keeps you closedRemove it now it’s timeLet... (more)
Have I made a real difference? I fail to discern Will my children prosper as they grow and they learn? Can I guide them correctly since I am so flawed? Did I do right by introducing them to God
I tended the altar back when I was a youth Was convinced that all I had been told was the truth I’d confess my child sins in that small wooden booth Seems quite silly now as I grow long in the tooth
My beliefs are my own and not up for debate I promote peace and love while rejecting the hate Guarded thoughts and ideas to the forefront I bring Introspection can be a quite dangerous thing... (more)
A Salute To Spanish Poetry: 100 Masterpieces from Spain & Latin America rendered into English verseJohn Howard Reidlulu.com (April 1, 2010)978-0557269433154 pages
A Salute to Spanish Poetry presents 100 works of art originally written by leading poets, and those little known in their time, from the 13th to mid 20th century in Spain and Latin America, now painstakingly translated by John Howard Reid.
Choosing the right pieces can make or break any anthology. Mr. Reid has succeeded here as there isn’t a weak selection in the group. Covered is a varied assortment of topics as... (more)
The muse of Merilene is left behind and seeks adoption.Yet there is not one I can name that is worthy of the option.Requirements to collaborate include the ability to state,a truth in sing song radiance with consciousness that lean againsta formula of Peace and Loveas planetary precedence.
The muse of Merilene I have rallied to adoptBut I have super ego and Merilene did not,She walked her talk and talked to rock'n organize the word, she spoke in tones of relevanceher elegance like Bird.She was spoken bebopLaughter rag mopClassical pop, And I can hear her nowcause that Merilene, no she... (more)
Viper Surfboards and Gear was the logo on the T-shirtin the classes' first line formation: to cut hair.So, now they call him "the Viper", Little Brother, local boy, surfer,from the day he could walk, he's had those webbed feet,from the Wedge, to the break at North Shore.And now he falls into line for inspection with his class one American erection,he's hard for the sky, he's Sky Walker, the Jedi, straight up, the desired direction.And I say, who would've thought Little Brother would give up the earth's seven seas,in pursuit of the big blue tease, that only a chosen few can claim,he plays the... (more)
One hazy, sleepy Southern night.The moon was waxing acrossA clouded sky,I swear
Jacob, that mangy mutt, was scuttlingAcross the neighbors yardsilence.I met the gentleman,waiting therehis shadowdarkbehind an illusion of afront porch light
alluring.But I invited himin for perhapsa coffee or nightcap,
; I must sayI catered to him and wenursed chipped mugs collectedsince I was young, back when I firstfell in love. I know that now, I had
reallyand no bad endingcan change that.
he took off his hat,shuffled his hairhis eyes dullmy kitchen bright,hung it by the side... (more)
Night arrivesand the dark becomesthe light ofyour visions'backdrop,the truth is,you are alone,and company is a time lapseeventof roll tape,no audio,mouths flappingsoundlessly,dramaticarms flailing,and windthrough teethwhistles.Still, there isone silhouettethat remains back litso the faceis unrecognizable,the reapersteethis the whistle you hearand you simplynod,"I know you wait...".Fighting the urge to hasten the novel to it's end,even the pages you turnsupplyincomprehensiblemeanings,others nod in agreementyet have no cluewhattime it really is.You are stillthe child facing south,your intellectin... (more)
Grains of SandMy words, thoughts, and deeds Are as grains of sand. Their perspective small, Just the next grain of sand. I see so little of what Has been, is, and will be. My understanding is inadequate, Of the whole vision. I am not the center, Around which all revolves. I offer my insights for those, Near and dear to me. They come from deep inside me, Closest to the center of all things. Yet, it is information only. Free for decisions to be made. Grains of sand added together, Nothing alone. A mountain together.
Originally written: August 11, 1996... (more)