by Emile Pinet |
Categories:
beautiful, earth, flower, green, image, seasons, spring,
Red Robins chirp to greet the rising sun
below my bedroom window every Spring.
Their cheery tunes confirm Springtime's begun;
long before green-tints color everything.
Snowdrops silently push up from the ground,
while frozen icicles melt drip by drip.
The honks of wild geese fill the sky with sound,
signifying they've returned from their trip.
Shortly, wildflowers will begin to sprout;
popping from the ground, summoned by sunlight.
Spring's splendiferous, there is little doubt,
when Spring colors supersede Winter's white.
I love the scent of Spring's tepid breezes,
Winter’s wind smells sterile when it freezes.
by Albert Ahearn |
Categories:
lost love, on writing and words
Love poems, how trite they become.
Their hackneyed themes we want to scream.
We purposely shy away from
That genre, teeming so it seems
With grandiloquent, large supplies
Of conjured words with empty rings
Of cheating hearts and love that dies.
Ad nauseam is all it brings.
We wish just once that we could read
Where love’s expressed differently:
Brand new verses that supersede
Love’s banal themes in poetry.
Love-lost poems are sickening
But most of all they are boring.
by Hell Kat |
Categories:
lost love, love
we are worn glass;
lungs shorn to a staple
of grammatical haste
that worsens when
inhaled by smoke.
He tells me:
believe in ghosts,
and always let
pride supersede you.
but I don't have much
faith to those
that only tell me
that time is ticking
right underneath rib bones
and cigarettes.
There's no lines
to read between,
and I lied when I said
it was fine, and okay.
He says:
you're a cheater.
And I simply say,
tell me you weren't asking for it.
by J. Jones |
Categories:
lost love
She obsessed over everything inconsequential: the pots and pans, the cake batter, the
turkey and gravy.
She sent him out into the night to purchase various items, squandering precious time that
could have/should have been spent inside his arms, his heart.
She steered him towards sexual famine.
She failed to solidify her position making it ever easier for an interloper, another more
willing, more accommodating female to supersede her.
He had made mention of this/these persons standing in the wings.
He had a timeline.
She was overly tentative.
Love is not a spectator activity.
by Mick Talbot |
Categories:
fear, hope, true love,
‘LAST WORD’ POETRY LOVE'
it has transpired, my one true love.
I am possessed, writing poems,
words transcribed, my passion, my love.
Feelings for my wife, an omen,
that true peace, true love, can exist!
Extant life, lacks natural love.
Those that think it doesn't matter,
why look to the skies above?
Planet 'B', oh hopeful chatter,
that true peace, true love can exist!
Fear that greed will supersede love,
a normal life whence peace prevailed,
deeds of good, just a tiny shove
to show all, that what is entailed.
That true peace, true love, can exist...
by Ngoc Nguyen |
Categories:
art, beauty, love, math, philosophy, sin, truth,
What is Beauty? Is it Truth? Is it Art?
Or the shape of the Golden Ratio?
Whatsoever Beauty is, it does not show
in the proud and haughty, but in the heart
of them where love and charity take part;
it manifests in the wise, who all know
that hatred's a fault we must overthrow
to supersede with the logic of Descartes.
Behold! Beauty's what's perceived in the eyes,
where the light of grace and intelligence
mingles in proportions none can surmise.
Beauty is song, from whence comes the eloquence
of a bard, who, like a lark at sunrise,
with lips sings strains that rival spring's opulence.
by Charles Grisham |
Categories:
teen, day,
How long have I felt this way
If it not for hope of a better day I'd be dead
And until that better day I'll be hollow
Empty from the love clishe
Have I not been deserving of such a desire
Or do I intend for a moment then leave
Either way it's a moment I'll adore
Subconscious fantasies throw smiles and laughter upon me
Confiding in myself I've dropped all I need
To get what I want, contagious
It spreads to them around to only supersede
Hardened threats with softened demeanors
Penultimate feelings seem to be
To those all around and within me
But they're still everything that matters in my world
by Joe Dimino |
Categories:
independence day, love, patriotic, political, religious, tribute, wisdom,
Laws are the framework
for an orderly society –
we subject ourselves
to them, not because they
are perfect, but because
we realize and acknowledge
our own imperfections, and
a need to be governed
uniformly by something
outside the individual…
God gave us the Bible –
And our forefathers
guided by Heaven’s great
example wrote the US
Constitution; not to
supersede His Holy Worship,
but to affirm the Lord’s Presence
in the spirit of His rightly free
man….
by Panagiota Romios |
Categories:
love, poems,
Sacred Secrets
Somethings are so special,
They just cannot be penned.
Like the true beauty of the
jasmine.
Or how profoundly the depth
and love of your man.
Somethings supersede imagery,
words or similes.
Too sacred to be written or
expressed.
It's just you, leaning closely in
God's ear....
Whispering your life's personal eucharist!
*Greek origin. Eucharistia meant a giving
of thanks, gratitude, etc.
June 16, 2019
10:pm PST
by Sandra Haight |
Categories:
appreciation, how i feel, inspirational, memory,
We think of value as a set amount
that's given to an item held or sold.
Most often- currency is paramount;
in olden times- perhaps silver or gold.
But, there is value in a different kind-
assessed and held by memories and heart,
which far surpasses any worth assigned;
for us, become forever works of art.
A mom's embroidery, dad's old-time tools,
or grandma's written recipes spelled out.
Intrinsic values follow no set rules;
the love assigned is what they're all about.
These values- held and stored by heart and mind
Far supersede the ordinary kind.