Love Poems About Power or Power Love Poems

Power love poems and/or love poems about Power. Read, share, and enjoy these Power love poems! Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for poems.

Poem Details | by arthur vaso |
Categories: america, angst, death, eulogy, horror, power, usa,

I Love Guns

I love Guns


Guns make us safe
Guns are rights and freedoms
The more guns, the more freedoms we shall bear
Every man woman and child should be armed
So that we are all safe
All schools should be armed
Teachers, Principals, Janitors, arm them all
The finally we can relax
in total safety
knowing we are all armed
I say give arms to the amputees too

Gun control is socialist and fascist
We registers cars
Houses
Pets
Bikes
We have banned toys
We regulate all kinds of things
Yet we are free
Totally free
Because we all have our right
To bare arms
Ask Kim Campbell! she agrees!!!

Not only guns
They must be automatics
The more bullets you can empty out of a gun 
the better
the more freedom you shall feel
Its called projectile dysfunction


And........any man with a high IQ
Need's an assault rifle
Why of course to outsmart those ducks and turkeys
I firmly believe in a fair fight
Assault rifles to catch a duck
common sense to me
Quack quack

Guns have rights
Own a gun you have double rights
They are made to kill kill kill
Did I say they KILL?
Nothing more, nothing less
I need that right

Any child killed by a Gun
is only because we haven't enough guns

By the way
Children have no rights
Kill em all for all I care
as long as I have my rights

I am not concerned with facts
Evidence
Or the humanity of it
Is all about my Guns
Why
Cause I love Guns
More than humans
And thats my right
No matter how wrong it is


Poem Details | by Alex Roberson |
Categories: courage, depression, love, power, strength, suicide,

For those who have considered suicide when who they are is not enough

For the days when your skin feels inadequate
And you want to escape from it
When you've scrutinized every fiber of your being & want to trade in your reflection
When you don't look right juxtaposed next to the picture of that model
They tell you your skin is too dark to be anything pretty 
And you're the guy in third block with the funny-looking glasses, the no-name brand clothes who loves to learn
Keeps to himself, never bothers anyone
But everyone bothers you
the girls don't pay attention to you except for a joke
And everybody cackles
jackals tear pieces out of you
For amusement
Fist strike, blood runs
Eyes are red like stop signs,
But can't slow down tears as they speed down your cheeks
For the lonely times
When you can't find friends
In the classroom, hall, or your home
The times when your body, walk, slang, & style don't fit in and they tell you to cut yourself down to match a space in their jigsaw
"Be like everyone else"
Finding yourself in a world full of Viceroys
Imitations of Monarchs
society calling you caterpillar because you have yet to metamorphous into these half-clones they have never eaten the scales of King Billy but poisoned their originality all the same
And they want you to do the same
Camouflage colors and blend in
Nobody likes an outsider, and everybody's scared to be one
Some are cowardsAfraid to be by themselves
They want to fit in and be secure with undercurrents of self-consciousness
And be appeasing
Looking to others to feel justified in what they do, how they look, who they are
They can't stand alone 
And for the times when you feel like an outcast
When you find disgrace looking in the mirror
And feel you deserve what they give you for simply being
Remember to be lion
Be a lion with no pride, but have pride all the same
Pride in yourself, how you were made
Be courageous, mighty, and strong
Even when you're walking by yourself
Strut with your head held high
Speak as boldly as a roar against the evening sky and proclaim your existence
Make everything feel your presence
Let them know that you can stand alone because you have no fear
Make everything in the room quake & wonder at how you could be yourself so boldly and have no shame
Stalk the earth like you are entitled to it and refuse to hide
Hug yourself late at night when you have to
Fight when you need to
Let nobody drag you through the mud
Command respect
And love yourself enough not to accept anything less than what you really deserve
Because you deserve so much better


Poem Details | by Gary Bateman |
Categories: allegory, emotions, feelings, god, love, passion, romance,

The Power of Love

The Power of Love

God’s eternal message is “The Power of Love.”  
The power of love is magical and enchanting,
The power of love is exciting and compelling,
The power of love is in truth and honesty always,
The power of love is reflected in one’s good works,
The power of love is reflected one’s true humility,
The power of love is integral to always doing the right thing,
The power of love is a catalyst for humor and fun,
The power of love is what makes our world go round,
The power of love is reflected in your lovely eyes,
The power of love is in your smile and laughter,
The power of love is with us all in times of sadness and loss,
The power of love is with us all in times of happiness and joy,
The power of love is the glue that binds two people in love,
The power of love is a potent alchemic mix of radiance and wonder,
The power of love is in the romantic aura of God’s starlight,
The power of love is magnified by the glow of God’s moonlight, 
The power of love is in every rainbow that appears on Earth,
The power of love is manifested in our soul and our spirit,
The power of love is at the center of one’s eternal soul,
The power of love is in the fantasy and magic of the Unicorn,
The power of love is Mother Nature’s majestic touch,
The power of love is at the center of hope and prayer,
The power of love is in the very DNA of cosmic dust, 
The power of love is in the destiny and hope of mankind,
The power of love is in the glory and hope of all Guardian Angels,
The power of love is Almighty God and all of His Angels,
The power of love is in God’s eternal message of hope and freedom,
The power of love is an impetus to positively influence people and ideas,
The power of love is in the divinity of God’s heavenly kingdom,
The power of love is one with mankind and all of the creatures on Earth,
The power of love is in the wind, the rain, the soil, the leaves, the trees,
The power of love is in the majestic beauty of Earth’s clouds,
The power of love is in civility, manners, and one’s good nature,
The power of love is in the simplicity and wonder of all children, 
The power of love is God’s undeniable divine force in the Universe.

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved – November 2, 2015
(Anaphora)


Poem Details | by Chris Boskovski |
Categories: beautiful, beauty, care, day, dedication, desire, devotion, feelings, first love, for her, garden, girl, god, happiness, happy, heart, how i feel, i love you, light, love, miracle, moon, morning, night, paradise, poetry, power, red, romance, romantic, rose, sky, smile, storm, summer, sun, truth, uplifting, wisdom, woman,

Pursue Love

Pursue love,
the love that has no meaning,
the silver ports of the moon,
shine so bright,
that it blinds you in the twilight
she is beautiful and she is divine
she is the song sang by the sweet nightingales
in the gardens of worthy, overgrowning and blooming roses,
like wildfire grow tall and the thornes of the vines
tangle around her feet and drag her ever so slightly
throughout the garden of beauty.
As the roses lay along a table,
as she sits at the table
and she waits for me, the wordman
to come to the dinner table at the stroke of nine
and sit with her,
start a scene or two of romantic setting,
to pursue love in her name.
Love is around us,
the candlelight shines and reflects in her silk hair,
as her evening dress glitters and shines
and her bossom shows itself in the nightsky
as we lay together,
we pursue a dream together,
forever we live together forever,
as we stand upon the belcony of Romeo and Juliet's love scene
we swim in a pool of sweet divine care and love,
we swallow grapes and drink wine
hand and hand on Persian rugs and virgin white cloth sheets,
we dance to a simple, yet sweet Chopin's masterpiece
of his beautiful nocturnes,
which make such a sweet and romantic song in our heads.

We stomp out the flames
as we dance the night away,
and you lay in my arms,
and I kiss you upon your lovely head,
and you hold my hand,
and I hold you tight
never thinking of letting your love go away from me,
I would take my own life,
before I lose your love.
See us together,
it is a painting that lasts lifetimes,
that needs no touch-ups.
I care for you and love you!
Love me, I know you will.

My sweet and loving portrait lady,
who in reality is more beautiful than a fully bloomed rose
that sits on its green stem,
in the garden of beauty that sits outside my window.
Come up to my chambers
as I picked roses for you and pettles litter the atmosphere
as love's tension grows
and suspence brings us together,
let us make love tonight
seal the passion
and pursue love once and for all.

Then shall we wake with the first rays of the blazing of the morning sun,
I shall wake next to your beauty and glory,
and I shall point my attention to the heavens
and thank the Gods for sending you on the open road,
toward my chamber door, I call my heart.
Then we shall dress, and walk the pathways
in the garden of beauty
and I shall pick a bauquet of roses
and we shall sit by the lake and pursue our love
for one another
and nothing, not one earthquake shall shake us apart.

-9/26/2013-


Poem Details | by James Fraser |
Categories: beautiful, beauty, love, passion, power, romantic, world,

When Nature Speaks

Two hearts beside thee such warmth ready to explode captured we will be ~ Above the event melded souls meet combustion reciprocated ~ In their aftermath natures now vociferous have two hearts spoken? .


Poem Details | by Laura Breidenthal |
Categories: beautiful, desire, inspiration, life, love, power, prayer,

The Five Word Challenge - The First Daughter of Eve

My Father, 
See the little serpents slither
Among the Wolfsbane, the Foxglove and the Daffodil
My mother distains the creatures,
And fears the beauty of my garden
Though I see splendor in their movement
They dance carefully in the night,
The moonlight shining on their freshly shed scales

Why are they punished for an ancient wrong?
Why are they hated for their doings? 
Am I like the snakes, in my father’s eye?
A limbless mistake? A falsehood you know,
As they wait to accuse,
And always abuse? 

Fallen Lucifer laughs in the crevices,
As he has taken my brother with the rock of another,
My desires remain in the ground,
Among the burrowing creatures round
For it is a falsehood you know
That we, the children should be blamed
For a wrong made by the very ones who made us
I will dance in the moonlight,
I will water my beautiful, poisonous plants
And I will live and die like the ones before me
I will bear others, and keep watch of their growth 

6/4/16
For The Five Word Challenge contest, hosted by Timothy Hicks
Five words used: 
Lucifer 
Know
Wolfsbane
Always
Little 


Poem Details | by Laura Breidenthal |
Categories: adventure, character, gothic, heart, love, philosophy, power,

Light On the Devil's Chord - Day 6

Upon this date he spoke no more of the preceding moments, 
Tearing and hurling insult upon insult
In several directions, his tongue whipped and scorched me,
And he waited relentlessly to see the spark in my eyes fade…..
He was so livid by my silence, he began thrashing around the walls,
Grabbing a  wayside demon and crushing him into the ground…
He destroyed Death’s bass, pulling off each string in monotone menace
Glaring at me, as he yanked each off,
The whine of its timbre flooding the eerie, murky pit……

“Nothing else, but you and I,
No more music, no more beat…
Your heart alone is enough to drive me mad…”

He spat into the crushed instrument, 
And Death cowered, scampering away like a wounded rat
Picking up the pieces as he disappeared into the soot

“Just you and I, 
I will not hear another cry except from your  lips…
No cheer, except from your voice,
No fear, except from your soul…
No support from above….no love to bring us light…”

I circled him my tears glistening,
The light burning him, as he laughed bitterly
And I sang…

“Your attacks drill against your friends,
Your darkness sifts, in pending motion,
You can crush the pulse that you began,
Though you cannot end my faith and devotion.”

He stared, his nostrils flaring,
His claws protruding in and out
Suddenly he smiled, and he was calm again
The wailing of a freshly injured demon faintly sounding…

“Tell me Loving Lady, 
Of what you recall of mortality…
What do you miss the most?
The rush of Death’s call, 
The touch of slowly falling? 
The thrill of free-will…kissing the darts…
The crushing of sadness in your feeble heart…
You have missed mortality I am sure,
You have missed the spirit of mutiny,
The infernal blaze of my brilliant core…
We need not but our voices to replay such times, 
I remember your days as much as I do mine…
Remember you used to lust and lie?
Remember when you were afraid to die? 
Those darkest nights, remember me grinning?
Remember the infatuation of sinning?
No, it was your art, and you left a trail,
So He might follow close behind might you fail…
He allowed you to suffer, to ache…to retch 
You forgot Him, and embraced my ways…
Do you ever miss those wondrous days…
Surely, surely you must appraise…” 

I picked up a lone string of Death’s mighty bass,
Feeling the metallic twine cool in my hand
The crushed demon moaned in agony beside me…

“Mortality was a rustic feat into the fray,
Many times blinded in the dark, to emerge into the day
I miss the way danger led to discovery,
In suffering greatly, I miss the relief of recovery
I miss the way it was so bittersweet, 
When the wrinkles began to appear…
I miss the sound of that single drop of rain…
Falling into the rest, never missed, always blessed…
Recalling the times I have stumbled,
I miss what now I clearly see…
I recollect darker emotions and I miss how they built me,
How they led me to the ones that guarded me to the end
So I might live in a better place where pardon became my friend…

Death’s voice intrigued me, frightened me, redeemed me, 
The falling of those around me led me to my calling,
And swiftly, failing became a past that set me free…
The test of free-will became a weight upon my shoulder,
The challenge became what shaped me as I grew older…
Sadness became easier, and less enjoyable,
When I focused my life to the skies and into open eyes

I remember the lusts, the lies, the sins—they never belonged to me
At the time, I didn’t see this—they were all I wanted to be….
I hunted to wallow in the madness and sadness of darkness…
I believed I did not deserve the wisdom of righteousness 
In my mortal skin, I learned to look deep within…
And fight off the urges…the lusts….the timey wages of sin
It became my duty to no longer allow you in…
Though my love for your redemption grew brighter within…”

The Devil clawed the bass string in my hand
And it strung an empty sound that echoed dryly all around…


“Immortality has its torments too…
See how gently I return to you…”

He never could destroy the beat thumping from my chest…
He merely hummed along with it in begrudging dedication 
Stubbornly, he sought for my pain 
But the hurt had been released  far above, where still he dared not look…

I lifted up a crippled demon and kissed his forehead
“I love you as well, demon, do not be afraid…” 
The weary eyes stared into my own, than quickly glanced in fear toward our fuming Prince…
“You understand pain, fear, and torment more than any, I am sure
Would you like to sing too?”

The Devil in rage grabbed the demon by the throat before he could answer
“You foolish woman… he is MY pet… 
Nothing else, but you and I…
He has no voice, no heart…no mind…
I give him no permission to,
And he accepts his place…
Unlike I …unlike you…”

I touched his clenched hand, and his grip loosened upon the demon
“All voices deserve to be heard,
Through compassion, let his existence ring…”

The Devil scoffed and threw him down with much force, perturbed
The demon dared not move

“WHY HAVE YOU COME HERE TO US…To mock me…to turn them against me…?”
The hush of his question held more intensity than his shouting
 “Surely…surely not…..
He belongs in the dust, 
At my command… he can never be like us…
You love him as much as pity will allow…
We are special, Silly Being, and his fleck of existence is but a toke
To gamble with for my amusement, nothing more…nothing more….
Stop this attempt to become the idol of the underdog
Don’t be such a predictable bore…”

The demon shriveled, but remained…
Like mortality’s fate, his body did shrink and fade…
But I heard his somnolent thoughts….

…I am but the refrain…
 Immortality….has….its torments….too…


Poem Details | by Laura Breidenthal |
Categories: beauty, freedom, growth, heart, inspirational, love, power,

Metamorphosed

I see their intentions,
In their trances of manipulation, 
Mind-warping affection, they laid upon you, 
And knowingly you feed on what I thought you were absorbing…

You lash out at me screaming, saying,
“Rest your distrustful inflicting,
Look me in the eye, accept me, and free me!
I will consume their darkness in a bleeding light,
Whilst juggling in the enigmas you cramp me in!

You wonder why I welcome all,
As danger tickles my curves, arresting your nerves
You most sacred, superstitious little butterfly
Cease your incessant, mocking lectures
Flapping your wings at me in a colorful warning

Yes, I know you have seen it all you perfectly transformed worm!
I know what you know even though you think I do not know it!
Your metamorphosis of completion is impressive, yes,
Yet in your expectations, you ignore the fact that I am shapeless, 

Stepping into the open air to confront change with all of its surprises.”

My multihued resolve silenced her… 
“I hear you! I hear you oh so clear,
You innocent, raw little worm of a girl…
So I shall allow, just know:
My mighty wings are here to shade you, not smother you
As your guardian, I will trust with sting
Swearing on my every heartbeat,
I will protect you as you engorge on the thorns you call beauty
I will lift you from the brushes to let you peek at the hungry birds,
And you will plead for me to shield you once more
Though when I do not, and the birds dive down to consume you,
In fear, in haste, you will sprout your magnificent wings,
You will call out my name,
And in tears I will watch you fly far above them all!”

For Justin Bordner's contest, "The Instincts of Innocence"


Poem Details | by Ravindra K Kapoor |
Categories: faith, imagination, life, philosophy, science, god, faith, god, life, love, may, power,

Lines Life and our Faith in God

Lines Life and our Faith in God


Is it possible to divide lines?
Which are of numerous types and kinds,
Like life, which always appear in different,
Forms, colors, shapes and types.

But when all these types and kind of lines disappears,
Covering the sheet of darkness,
What is left is only a tiny dot,
Which has no end and has no beginning.

From a tiny dot only life and every thing began one day,
And in a tiny dot every thing would vanish one day,
Leaving no lines of any kind bold or thin,
On the sands of time,
What would ultimately be left, as the last impression,
Would only be a tiny dot, much smaller than the rolling tears of eyes.

The Universe also started from a dot,
Even all universes and galaxies, stars and planets,
Started from a dot created by God,
And every thing ultimately would vanish,
One day in the darkness of a dot, like black hole,
About which we almost know nothing,
Except that every thing including the earth, planets, stars,
Even our body and mind and its high rising aims and ambitions
Would ultimately get lost in the magnetic darkness of the 
Black hole, which is nothing but another form of a dot.

The creative and destructive power of the dot,
Is right before us in the form of a computer,
Which builds, learns and teaches every thing,
Starting and ending from tiny tiny dots,
And places before us humans and nature,
Animals and creatures, in their true forms, except
They do not breathe, love and hate like humans.

But humans are close to create a new dot,
Tomorrow it would breathe and talk, 
It would think and walk and may also love and hate
And may be, it would start creating,
New types of humans and may start thinking himself one day,
As our new Creator or a new God.

I pondered, wondered and imagined,
What would happen, when this new God,
Would have a small amount of some power in his hand
And may become a new God for those,
Who do not believe in our faith and in our Almighty God,
As even a small amount of the power of creation and destruction,
May blind the weak humans to start thinking himself as the new God.

In such a situation, all lines of all types may disappear
For ever from us, which has so far, 
Saved us from the total disappearance of our existence,
And has brought up like a child in every religion and faith,
So that we may flourish and bloom like his Nature
And may adore Him as,
Our faith or God or as our strong and bold Dot,
Which always loves us a lot.


Ravindra


Kanpur India     13th June 2006




Poem Details | by john freeman |
Categories: allegory, love

The Power

The Power Love,,,,,,the ,,,,,power,,,,,Of,,,,Something, It’s,,,,,,,opposition,,,,,,,is,,,,,,Nothing,!,,had,,,,, humanity,,,,,,,,,,,,rather ,,,,,be,,,,,,,,nothing,,,,zit,,,,nada,,,,,? The,,,,,,,Power,,,,,,,had,,,,,,,to ,,,,,start,,,,,,,somewhere,,,,, rather,,,,,,,we,,,,,it,,,,, not ,,,,,,started,,,,, will,,,,,we,,,,,,cut,,,,,,off,,,,,our noses,,,,,, to,,,,,spite,,,,our ,,,,faces,,,? Will,,,humanity,,,cut,,,off,,,it’s,,,,own,,,,nose,, the,,,,, thing,,,,,love,,,,,,created,,,,to,,,,,spite,, God,,,,,our,,,,,,face,,,,,? Some,,,where,,,,,before,,,,time,,,,,began,,,,faith,,,,,God,,,,love,,,,, had,,,,,to,,,,,be,,,,,,interjected,,,,,for,,,,,,humanity,,,, to,,,,,,become,,,,,the,,,,,,reflected,,,,,! Can,,,,,,,,,we,,,,,,,not,,,,,,all,,,,,call,,,,,the,,,,nature,,,of,,,,it,,,all,,,, love,,,,the power,,,,God,,, Faith,,,,,,in,,,,,power,,,,,, Created,,,,,,us,,,,the,,,tower,, of,,,,,God’s,,,,power...? Or,,,,,will,,,,,the,,,,,derivative,,,,mind,,,,,intertwine,,,,,, into,,,,,,reflective,,,,,,,,,world,,,,,continue,,,,,,the whine,,,,,,,,without,,,,,the,,,,,,power,,, we,,,,continue,,,,,to,,,,sour,, by,,,the,,hour,,, in denial,,of, God’s,, Face, The, Power, by Faith!! 7-20-09johnmosesfreeman@yahoo.com


Poem Details | by Keith O.J. Hunt |
Categories: love, mystery, power,

Some Kind of Cleopatra

She could be ----

   whatever she wanted to be.....

Cause the seas mighty with storm

   to scorn the shores of whorish men,

   and descend them to depths forlorn,

   or lift their wee-dignity, conspired aloft

   blue-sky-spires;

Spiraling to the bosom of some fresh heaven ----

   they shall see their folly 

   for the loveliness in her eyes,

   and await her kiss a thousand years;

Reflect soft scented meadows,

   and a heart from which flows the waterfall ----

   roaring in glory of darling truth,

   and steadfast honesty,

The wickedness of men....

   cannot endure a glimpse,

   a mere peek upon her gaze.....

   
The desert winds whirl the dune seas,

   of Octavian mischief;

And whip they throughout the ages, 

   beyond time,

   Octavian crushed neath her timeless 

   allure....

He always the 'great' villain,

   and she the beauteous Queen

Are good men and 'great' men of the same kind?

   seldom are 'great' men good,

  and good men 'great' 

Christ was born in a lowly manger ----

   the King of kings,

   and too many a 'king' born in plush luxury,

But Cleopatra took her life for love,

   though born of unsurpassed beauty,

   she was not tainted with the thirst of power,

   or hungry like a selfish dog ----

   to appease a frail appetite,

But supreme as a thorn-bird's undying love;

   many a wold (rolling plains),

   dipped in honeyed ease,

   the glory of gold, and likeness of her

Essence(d) in the weave of high-romance,

   Cleopatra....

Whom the masses of men lay mystified

   in her elegant recollection,

   majestic, for her affections ----

The Valley of the Kings

   kneel in her shadow....

   she is beautiful,

   for her love.....

Whom she may be called

   (both good and great)

She could be,

   whatever she wanted to be....


Poem Details | by Kai Michael Neumann |
Categories: love,

The Power Flower

Flower power

“If you’re going to
San Francisco be sure to
wear a flower 
in your hair”
long and shaggy
shagged longing wild

And to Berlin or
Paris for that 
matter to dream to
meet a girl and more
under the fountain

The “Fountainhead”
on your mind
“Atlas shrugging”
all the weight of
established rigour
tremors oscillations
generational discord
transmitted juxtaposed
agonising opposition

Budding opening
freedom harmony
erect and upright
subconscious conscience

That girl with
curvy bottom and more
outer beauty inner fire
no curve balls
simply passion
adventure living
loving one in all

Embraces soaking
wet the moment
living on for now
for past and memories
intertwining venture

What is
what is coming
what was to come
appeared enlightened
what did not happen
withers lingers
explodes from

Venus-mangoed delta
reappears in wetlands
of pruned and rooting
ecstasy high rising climax

It matters not
if cobbled streets
descended from Montmartre
or mountains climbed
in open spaces putting 
petting lips and heartbeats
openings and new
beginnings novel closure

It matters little great
deaths not so petite
at times of passion
'enlived' 'enstoried'
restoried recomposed
narrated and retold
episodic dedication

Floral bouquets
wild herbs and spices
arrangements
derangements
cinnamon bark on
your underbellies senses

Gathered over time
reflections longing
hope pragmatic
bold appeasement
ceasefires dynamic
bonfires bonne fires
static momentary
life and for the 
living levitating
lovers 

You are not going
to Paris all that
often any longer
but the scent free
spirit erotic flowers 
frisson crescendo
warm hearted climax
exhaustion images

Is there in you hair
still shaggy longing
seduction floating
coming together

Is there in
your path’s ways
Is there in 
your dreams





Poem Details | by Sharon Gulley |
Categories: animal, beautiful, butterfly, heart, imagery, love, power,

The Racoon and The Butterfly

I watched a raccoon on a warm, sunny evening 
as he lazily sit upon a branch high in the breeze; 
When all of a sudden a brilliant, bright butterfly 
gently landed just below him on a leaf.
The raccoon's eyes lit up with curiosity at the 
brilliance of it's colors, as it's wings slowed to
a soft flutter.
The raccoon reached out to touch the butterfly
and lightly it lifted it's self toward the sky
The raccoon reached for it once more with
his little hands eager to touched what his eyes 
adoredThe butterfly would not come close enough
for the raccoon to touch and in puzzlement the raccoon
he did stare and watched the brilliant, bright butterfly
flutter in the airThe raccoon seemed to want a little 
friend as the butterfly landed and was now sitting on the
branch's bend.
The raccoon longed to see the butterfly up close and to
touch it's colorful wings it adoredThe raccoon stretched
out it's little black hand once more.
To my amazement the butterfly landed in it's hand, this I
adoredAs I watched, they stared at each other for what
seemed like hours; It was an amazing site to see natures
love and appreciation for one another
What a beautiful memory left on my heart of nature's love
and great spiritual power.


Poem Details | by john freeman |
Categories: inspirational, lovelove, power,

Love Is Who You Are ( NOT, Just Something You Do ) Part 3

We are love!
But to be love!
In Life,
By the power,
Of love from the inside,
Which the old man of the mind, tries to hid!

So be love first!
Before disperse!
Or you will condemn your situation,
While ignoring love’s person!
Love’s notion,
Should be in the motion!

For the power of love that you be,
Should be what you see,
In the motion!
Let us use love’s lotion,
To soothe the motions,
On location,
And love will not be on a mind vacation!

Remember love is who you are,
It’s like your car,
It will carry you where ever you are,
With the greatest of care!

God made humanity out of himself,
Of his own wealth,
And there is plenty left,
Of his constant self,
For love’s net production,
Does not cause a reduction,
Of God’s infinite self,
The same is always left,
Of God’s infinite self!

Power is constant infinite!
No end to God’s gin,
How could love not win!
You’re on the right track,
Don’t hold your love back!

Let us get out of that sack,
And to the harlot turn our backs,
For the world is in peril,
When you trust in that girl,
She is doing death’s swirl,
In mind’s imaginary world!

The power of love is still spinning,
Just like in the beginning,
Even in earth’s ending,
Love is still spinning,
Just like in the beginning,
The constant source,
Remember, Your car the Porsche!
 Right on course!!

6-5-09 johnmosesfreeman@yahoo.com


Poem Details | by liam mcdaid |
Categories: hate, love, peace, poverty, power, pride, war,

As dark clouds

Descends over the mountains 
a blanket of suffering thunder
The fork between two tongues sings 
truth always comes to light 
under angel rays expelling echoes 

A thousand ancient whispers 
striking home babbling silently 
gathering tongues cry to the vain
Gale force in the mind blows fuse 

There is so many power hungry nations 
fed by constantly spilling innocent blood 
keeping people down is such a falsehood
God be with all victims of crime committed 

Wounded knee echoes of past genocide exist 
as does the Emerald Isle 
an open book clearly speaks volumes

They who should be held accountable 
by countries of this world 
brought to justice and face the facts 
freedom is a democracy 
to live without chains attached

Sweeping under weeping souls chant 
Spirits haunting winds cry 
over many plains in song 
There is no love of God present 
in them who take another's life

Rustling through branches 
many tales of woe Armenia cries out 
Battle reduces men into animals 
through their blood thirsting hate scars

Filled with rage and bitterness gas used 
inhumane violence stormy seas fuels the desire 
to kill every living being poisonous mushrooms cloud 
with hate consumes 
wiping out countless women and children 
destroying nature without a care for this planet
 
Always innocent parties unto such vile acts are addressed openly
Wipe away the cobwebs from over your eyes world 
Taking life from the living forbidden 
no good disturbing the balance of peace 
Love is far from so many people's heart's these days


Poem Details | by Miss Understood |
Categories: allah, angel, beauty, deep, emotions, heaven, hurt, peace, power, prayer, true love, truth,

Reflection

Reflection 

When your body's feeling tense,
and nothing seems to make sense.
Take a look In the mirror, 
and see that you're your own hero
You got yourself from zero

By grace through faith will keep you safe.
For anything that happens is from fate.
And loving yourselfonly you can relate



Poem Details | by Brandon Webb |
Categories: beauty, girlfriend, love, marriage, power, romantic, wife,

Goddess

As powerful as an army
As delicate as a flower
You gave me your heart
And I trampled it to powder.

You deserve to be cherished
You deserve to be loved
How could I have done this
To my beloved.

You are such an inspiration
To everyone you know
Instead of holding you back
I should have helped you grow.

I don't know what the future holds
But I pray daily for your solace,
And I want you to know
That you are a goddess.


Poem Details | by Nick Puopolo |
Categories: betrayal, desire, love hurts, power, sexy,

Fox Trot

Though I'll tell you what you want to hear
I'm not a prophet or a seer
My lies tap dance upon your soul
As your Cinderella dreams unfold

Bullshit woven to the letter
Assuring you there's no one better
Than me, to fulfill your need
Your virgin ears begin to bleed

One more drink we do the dance
Another ruse into your pants
Crafted words depth with skill
Now closing fast in for the kill

It's always just about my pleasure
Silk smooth lines cut to the measure 
Crystal clear what was my aim
Reflecting on your walk of shame


Poem Details | by Tim Smith |
Categories: love, lust,

The Power Of Love

Living without the power of love
can it be anymore than trust
pulling back pieces of the crimson
lying down naked within the lust

Wanton eyes open  pleading wonderment
slipping off slowly through the breeze
the bells of St Mary's stroking midnight
pushing another restless mind to ease

Written deep in the hearts of lovers
beats unknown words yet uncovered
ruins rebuilt amid tactful sensation
bound and begged an unheard salvation

Aromatic thoughts read aloud hold still
The passioned power of love rings true


Poem Details | by Caren Krutsinger |
Categories: child abuse, giving, i love you, introspection, power, silly, student,

Part 2 You Have to Whistle

Neither Tray or I take any guff from adults, especially adults in authority; it’s a result of having had the belt when you are young, thus learning you cannot trust your care-givers or anyone else.
In case there is any doubt in your mind here, every enraged child I have ever seen, every out-of-control –I-hate-the-world child I have ever spoken to had parents who were uneducated and insensitive and in complete ignorance of how the belt on a child will break their heartsEspecially if the parent waits to use the belt when she is already mad, and mean, and the wailing sobbing child feels the out-of-control parent is relishing  using  a big bad, welt-giving belt on them  oftentimes Christian parents, which is why I HATE Christians so damned much.
Oops.
Lost my thought again.
Back on track now.
Tray finally said, “You’d have to dance.”
If anyone ever saw me dance you’d still be laughing, but I danced, and danced and danced some moreI danced around Tray and MrHell and the Detention supervisor and the Superintendent and the incredulous DARE Officer  Boy, did I dance.
I did the chicken dance, the Macarena dance, the good-grief-is -this- even-a-dance-dance.
Then out of breath, I asked, “What else, Tray? What else can I do to get you to come with me?” The reason a great counselor will ask a child such as belt-child-Tray, permission for every little thing, is that Tray, a belt-child, had so much power taken away at a young innocent age He is a heartbroken victim of parents who gloatingly used a belt, flyswatter, shoe, hairbrush, switch from a tree, or whatever to show the child how angry they were about something.
A little warning here, now, parents, if you do not want to raise a psychopath or a manic depressive or a child with schizophrenia, please do not beat your children A parent who shows a small child their angry-I-am-going-to-really-hurt-you side has lost all respect and awe and love whether they know it or not at the time 
Worse, their little child, an innocent child who has now had  the full wrath of an angry adult unleashed on them in a I-will-kill-you-sort of way, a child like Tray and I, who have had the belt and immediately felt a broken heart, the I- have-had-the-belt-and-hate-everyone-now-children are going to need to get some power back somewhere down the lineThey can do it in positive or very negative ways, and thank their parents, please, will you?
In the rare case you are slow, and do not fully understand what I am saying yet, at  the age of two or three years-old, belt children are completely powerless when their ignorant, uneducated, I-will-show-you-how-mad-I-am-parents with mean faces, are giving them the belt, sometimes putting welts up and down their arms and legs too
This added bonus reiterates to the now powerless heartbroken child that their parents, their heroes, the ones they loved and adored, are now monsters, who might be hiding under the bed or in the closet, and might come out at night and kill them next timeThe unexpected side lesson is, there is no one to turn to, you are helpless, and we can kill you at will Oh, by the way, pray to JesusJesus will help you with everything BUT your parents.
Belt children are hyper-vigilantThey are always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something to happen to make Mom mad, so she will have an excuseThey make great detectives, but not yet because they are children The real lesson, the one you want to teach your child when she is young is: please understand you are no longer safeJesus cannot save you here  Your mother is mean and mad and powerful, and you had better do whatever you can to not make her mad.
Lesson learned, MomLesson learned.
But let me just say, now that I’m an adult and I can see what you could notBeating your child or children, is not the best parenting practices Being a spiritualist I have to ask, “These men of old, these men who wrote the Bible to keep their women in place with fear, these men who wanted their women to hope for a good life later on, but not now as it might be an inconvenience to them, Why did they take the six books about reincarnation out of the Bible but leave in “Spare the rod, spoil the child? What the hell, you MEN of old?  What the hell?
A big smile crossed Tray’s face because he and I have spent many hours together, and we both knew  that he was now going to demand I do something we both knew I was not capable of doing”Now you have to whistle,” he said.
I stuck out my tongue at him, making him laugh, put my hands on my hips and said in my best 8-year-old-girl imitation, “YOU KNOW I can’t whistle!”
He laughed then, and could not stopLoud guffaws of laughter, and I put out my hand, and he walked over, took it and we walked across that cubicle and I put my little “Go away and don’t come back” sign out, and we began to talk We talked about the belt and how angry we are, oops ….I mean how angry and hurt and heartbroken he is when his dad acts like thatAnd it made me sad, and I told him it’s not best practices for a parent to do this, and I told him I had never used a belt on my children, and when he grew up, he would not have to use it on his childrenI told him it’s okay to end the cycle of child abuse in his family, and he was amazed and said, “I would never hurt my children,” and we made a pact, and we hugged
The end of a very good day for usA very good day.







Poem Details | by daver austin |
Categories: loveold, love, old, power,

WHAT IS LOVE? (1973)

OH    NAKED MAN    IN HARMONIA
TELL ME    WHAT IS LOVE

Love is when a sensitive child
Happens on a flowering hillside    and
Cries out with joy

In the blazing eyes of a cat
The eyes only
Be it live
Or photograph

Love’s power is
That it has no secrets
Will allow none

Love will settle on a countenance
And strip it bare
For all the world to see

An old    old man
Given up struggle
Given up thought
Helpless before his maker

Love has no earthly intelligence
But chooses fool
Or Saint alike

Some say love is complexity
But I say that love is simplicity
And draws its power
From contrast with complex things

So simple love
That it brings tears 
Of disbelief

If love is fine
Where love is serf
Just think how great
Where love is king

On this side they call it love
What needs no name
In its kingdom

Love is not a God
It is a helpless thing
Without a power to persuade

Love needs no thought.
Those who think they love
Do not love at all

Think of every worldly set of situations
Thought about    and then
Declare that love is none of these
None of these are love





 




Poem Details | by Alexis Y. |
Categories: for him, love,

POWER OF LOVE

It was “Never Too Much” for me to love you.
“And I Don't Want To Be A Fool “ by letting you go.
I want your love” Here And Now” that’s true.
“Love The One You’re With” I love you so.

“And I Don't Want To Be A Fool” by letting you go.
Our love is not like”Any Love” I’ve ever known.
“ Love The One You’re With” I love you so.
You’re my “Superstar” and real love is shown.

Our love is not like”Any Love” I’ve ever known.
“ A House Is Not A Home” if your not here
You’re my “Superstar” and real love is shown.
You “ Give Me The Reason To Love" and it's sincere.


“ A House Is Not A Home” if your not here
I want you to know “There's Nothing Better Than Love”.
You “Give Me The Reason To Love” and it's sincere
“Creeping” is not our style, you’re a gift from up above.


I want you to know “There's Nothing Better Than Love”.
My darling you’re “So Amazing “ and I long for your touch
“Creeping" is not our style, you’re a gift from up above.
Sweetheart  I will always “ Stop To Love” you much.


My darling you’re “So Amazing “ and I long for your touch
I want your love" Here And Now" that's true.
Sweetheart I will always “ Stop To Love” you much.
It was "Never Too Much" for me to love you.


Below Are Some Of Luther Vandross’ Greatest Hits 


 1.Never Too Much
 2.Don’t Want To Be A Fool
 3.Here And Now
 4.Love The One You’re With
 5.Any Love
 6.Superstar/Until You Come Back To Me (That’s What I’m Gonna Do)
 7.A House Is Not A Home
 8.Give Me The Reason
9There’s Nothing Better Than Love
10.Creepin’
11.So Amazing
12.Stop To Love
13.Power Of Love/Love Power



Submitted to the Musical Pantoum Contest
Sponsor: Silent One 




Poem Details | by Susan Ashley |
Categories: anger, dark, loss, love hurts, nature, power, violence,

Abandoned Dreams - Favorite Poem



Knotted in the torsion of a tempest’s mood - the barrage drains the sun and overwhelms the dusk ire’s flash stabs the night. Susan Ashley April 6, 2019 ~ Second Place ~ Contest: Favorite Poem From Last Week (March31 - April 6, 2019) Contest: Lu Loo ~ Third Place ~ Contest: April 2019 Premier (3 Line Max) Sponsor: Brian Strand


Poem Details | by robin davis |
Categories: care, friend, hero, love, power, world,

Superhero Kindness Spreads From One Person To Another

It always feels good to give
That's the way we all should live
Helping someone who's in need
Allowing the world to succeed
In being more loving and kind
Leaving hatred far behind
Lend a hand or helping shoulder
Young, a teen, or even older
Everyone has super powers
Those in times of desperate hours
Need us to use them full force
Sending troubles way off course
Making a less cloudy day
Sunshine lighting up the way
So they can move closer toward
Paying acts of kindness forward
To a soul who's lost and sad
Remembering they too once had
A secret hero to make sure
The worse days are now pure
And full of loving happiness
Now passing it to the rest
Of the world one at a time
Our earths help meter will soon climb
A full 100 percent
Hand in hand we can invent
A place to live without the sorrow
Looking at a bright tomorrow


Poem Details | by Star Light |
Categories: inspirational, love, love,

Power of Love

Is given from 
God above
Only God gives
Hearts the Love to share

Tender moments
of Love so rare
Truth within
Hearts do care

God is the giver 
Of Love within
Forever tis be
Always in Truth

Power of Love
God gave His 
Only Begotten son
For us all to gain

Eternal Life
be Born-again.
Out of Pure Love.
of our Father of lights 

Worshiping.Praising
Our Everlasting King 
Our Savior 
Jesus Christ

God Giving within us 
Love Tenderheartedly
Toward each other
always Forgiveness 

tis Blessings
Precious in rare 
as True Love 
between two hearts

We all share 
together
Love of Christ


Poem Details | by Gary Bateman |
Categories: desire, emotions, heart, imagery, love, senses, symbolism,

Love's Power

Love’s Power


It’s wondrous

enchants you entire—

passions hot

your heart beats

wildly with a true desire

for the one you love


Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
September 19, 2018 (Shadorma)


Poem Details | by fauxcroft wade |
Categories: crazy, inspiration, love, power, uplifting,

Your face could launch a thousand ships

Helens face launched a thousand ships

Do you believe she desired a legacy such as this

To be the center of a war

All for a love that she could not control

Many people live, die and fight for love

It’s the strongest emotion that drives us on

It makes do the craziest of things

It inspires the songs we sing

It’s far better than that feeling of hate

But either one can leave disaster in its wake

Love is powerful, love is strong

Use it with care so that it does no wrong

But as Helen of Troy found out

That when you fall in love without a doubt

It can cause empires to fall

And can wreak havoc with us all

So take care but never be afraid to share

Love with those people for whom you care.

31/5/18


Poem Details | by Wendy White |
Categories: analogy, appreciation, desire, emotions, inspirational love,

Love's Power

Love has no boundaries...
Like magic, it has its own energies.
Healing sickness & ending sadness.
Saving someone on the brink of madness.
It gives us the power to reach our goals.
It strengthens our minds & nourishes our souls.
Ending bigotry & destroying rage.
Existing beyond race,sex, religion & age.
Love is eternalIt never dies.
You will see it reflected in your soul mate's eyes.


Poem Details | by Amera Andersen |
Categories: love, seasons, time, spring, beauty, rose, flower, beauty, flower, garden, power, rose, spring, time,

Rose for all Seasons

Spring

As He looked down from the heavens above,
He created spring and prepared the earth.
He decided Eden needed more love
and made this the season for a new birth.

A perfect garden but man was alone.
One night He caused man to dream in his sleep
and opened his breast removing a bone.
A flower was planted for man to keep.

I am that mate, I’m man's flowering rose.
I was planted in spring in hallowed ground
Created in beauty the gardener knows,
the flower of man, to him I am bound.

No longer will man be alone to toil.
Planted in spring in God’s loving soil.


Summer

Now is the season I have come to bloom.
Thriving in summer, the gardener’s plan.
Born as a flower within the earth’s womb.
A beautiful rose created for man.

His gift of a flower since time began.
Companion for life, a loving soul mate.
Blossoming strength in the summertime span.
Flowering beauty at the garden gate.

I am that rose, such a wonderful fate.
Strength in beauty, I’m the gardener’s rose.
Created for man so we can relate.
I stand behind him where the garden grows.

Grace in beauty and feminine power.
Standing with him, I’m the summer flower.


Fall

Fall is the season of power and might.
A soul mate I was created to be
and placed in the garden at God’s decree.
Behind my man in the gardener’s sight,
a feminine rose is the male delight.
As I stand next to him, for all to see,
my mystical power that set him free
and the gardener smiled for it was right.

Fall is the season I start to relax,
the breeze is provoking my rest and sleep.
It is the season, our work is now done.
Together all year we learned all the facts
and memories that we, forever keep.
For we have been blessed together as one.


Winter

Winter lends a blanket of snow
here in the place where gardens grow.
Blossomed all year beautifully dressed.
Winter has come, it’s time to rest.

The gardener knows the reason,
my beauty doubles next season.
I gave him strength, held to my breast.
Winter has come, it’s time to rest.

My man smiles because of the rose.
A winter sleep is just repose.
A rose for a man, passed the test.
Winter has come, it’s time to rest.

Winter lends a blanket of snow.
Winter has come, it’s time to rest.



Author Notes:

Spring:  Shakespearian sonnet
Summer: Spenserian sonnet
Fall: Petrarchan sonnet
Winter: Kyrielle sonnet



Poem Details | by Shanity Rain |
Categories: absence, angel, betrayal, business, car, career, celebrity, change, childhood, dance, death, death of a friend, dedication, devotion, england, farewell, fear, first love, for him, freedom, friendship, funeral, goodbye, grief, heartbroken, history, identity, international, london, miss you, money, murder, muse, music, mystery, new york, peace, political, power, remember, rights, spiritual, tribute, truth, visionary, wisdom,

he is leaving home

                            
                  In great respect of the band I grew up listening to
                       as sure as Mom passed down Saturday Chores 
                      for I had been chosen to scrub bathroom floors `

                    Yet a familiar sound would bring me to keep scrubbing
                       The red album, The blue album , The White album 
                        ThenAbbey Road , always remembering the sad look on
                  Ringo's face ,  something hard to understand underneath~
                       
                      I get it now, what you were saying all those years ago ,
                    the many sad lonely tears , secret tears , secret fears 
                    For Maxwell's Hammer was a real one It wanted silence

                    Going back.remembering when John Lennon died 
                      I was in Arkansas saddened with the world
                      Then seeing his face saying " Drag isn't it " 
                      Nothis was not my hero in music and song

                      he was a stand in hired William , he filled his shoes 
                      bringing diversity to create so much beautiful music from loss

                       One left standing , alone;; grief struck on back cover ~
                       The other identity hidden, tried to be part of.coming together
                                                                                                                                                                        
                            his  world of secrets
                        He to suffers today , in fear , Faul~
                       
                        Too many years gone bylet us tell the TruthLet us be free
                         The very sad long and winding Road ~
                         Let us Bury our real Paul

                         No more " Mystery tour "
                             No more fear 
                                Let him be in peace ~


           Inspired by " The Last Testament of George Harrison , Is Paul Dead ? "