Submissions by Morganpoet
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Poet Introduction
I started writing poems over 40 years ago and have never stopped!
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
13th Mar 2020 5:04am
13th Mar 2020 5:04am
NEW DIRECTION
Some of us
seem to be
here to help
others see
there always is
another way,
a reason why we
sometimes stray
off course from
the initial direction,
so awareness can
establish a connection
to an alternate path
once hidden away,
waiting for just
the right day
to shine so bright
you can't ignore
the new direction
you need to explore.
Morganpoet
seem to be
here to help
others see
there always is
another way,
a reason why we
sometimes stray
off course from
the initial direction,
so awareness can
establish a connection
to an alternate path
once hidden away,
waiting for just
the right day
to shine so bright
you can't ignore
the new direction
you need to explore.
Morganpoet
#learning
#choices
312 reads
2 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
12th Mar 2020 10:01pm
12th Mar 2020 10:01pm
TIMELESSNESS
I woke with my fingers
still feeling his touch
wishing to be still there,
after thirty nine years
I miss him so much,
treasure moments we share
When the veil between
our worlds is thin
so we can reunite,
in a landscape I
carry deep within
where everything is alright.
My invisible Dad
has stayed with me
in his altered state,
he comes back often
to help me see
inspiring me to create
A timelessness
of words in rhyme
documenting dreams,
strengthening the bond
over space...
still feeling his touch
wishing to be still there,
after thirty nine years
I miss him so much,
treasure moments we share
When the veil between
our worlds is thin
so we can reunite,
in a landscape I
carry deep within
where everything is alright.
My invisible Dad
has stayed with me
in his altered state,
he comes back often
to help me see
inspiring me to create
A timelessness
of words in rhyme
documenting dreams,
strengthening the bond
over space...
#dreams
368 reads
4 Comments
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
12th Mar 2020 12:32pm
12th Mar 2020 12:32pm
THE ULTIMATE FIND
Sitting, talking,
for hours on end,
knowing the warmth
of a close, caring friend.
Someone to share
your thoughts and ideas,
someone to discuss
all the irrational fears.
A kindred soul
connected through time,
a bond so precious,
the ultimate find.
Morganpoet
for hours on end,
knowing the warmth
of a close, caring friend.
Someone to share
your thoughts and ideas,
someone to discuss
all the irrational fears.
A kindred soul
connected through time,
a bond so precious,
the ultimate find.
Morganpoet
#friendship
350 reads
4 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
12th Mar 2020 7:44am
12th Mar 2020 7:44am
THE ENDLESS RHYME
From here to there
he went and sat,
usually he'd be
without his hat,
distantly gazing
he looked within,
from the outside you
could see he was in
another world,
in another time,
he'd been captured by
the endless rhyme,
its beat, it pulsed
through every vein,
tingling his feet
with each refrain.
Until he was silent
sitting in his chair,
he wasn't quite here,
he wasn't quite there,
he'd entered into
a liminal state,
a crowd gathered round
as he began to translate
the...
he went and sat,
usually he'd be
without his hat,
distantly gazing
he looked within,
from the outside you
could see he was in
another world,
in another time,
he'd been captured by
the endless rhyme,
its beat, it pulsed
through every vein,
tingling his feet
with each refrain.
Until he was silent
sitting in his chair,
he wasn't quite here,
he wasn't quite there,
he'd entered into
a liminal state,
a crowd gathered round
as he began to translate
the...
#healing
352 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
12th Mar 2020 4:24am
12th Mar 2020 4:24am
EXPOSED
Sometimes a moment
opens a door
enabling you to
finally explore
what lies behind
the way you behave
not just continuing
to be a slave
to subconscious
reactions, indicating
unresolved
emotional trauma.
Morganpoet
opens a door
enabling you to
finally explore
what lies behind
the way you behave
not just continuing
to be a slave
to subconscious
reactions, indicating
unresolved
emotional trauma.
Morganpoet
#MentalHealth
492 reads
2 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
11th Mar 2020 2:07pm
11th Mar 2020 2:07pm
THE SPIRIT SINGS
One day will I be
left with it all again?
Will I continue my habit
of collecting dead men?
It used to be
my greatest fear,
now the thought
doesn’t bring a tear,
instead I feel a strange
kind of power
guiding my behaviour
from hour to hour,
both life and death
are spiritual things
it’s in breaking away
that the spirit sings.
Morganpoet
left with it all again?
Will I continue my habit
of collecting dead men?
It used to be
my greatest fear,
now the thought
doesn’t bring a tear,
instead I feel a strange
kind of power
guiding my behaviour
from hour to hour,
both life and death
are spiritual things
it’s in breaking away
that the spirit sings.
Morganpoet
#death
#spiritual
287 reads
0 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
11th Mar 2020 7:59am
11th Mar 2020 7:59am
DAY BEGINS AT NIGHT
She walked along
the rocky shoreline,
she watched the moon
slowly rise,
the breeze was fresh,
frogs were calling,
a sudden noise
provoked surprise.
She felt no fear,
just stood silent, still
encased in bright, blue
glowing light, until
across the water
a pathway glistened,
her day began at night,
when she listened.
She was the one
they all had chosen,
they would be waiting
with the sun
to hear the things
the old ones told her,
what was needed
for everyone.
...
the rocky shoreline,
she watched the moon
slowly rise,
the breeze was fresh,
frogs were calling,
a sudden noise
provoked surprise.
She felt no fear,
just stood silent, still
encased in bright, blue
glowing light, until
across the water
a pathway glistened,
her day began at night,
when she listened.
She was the one
they all had chosen,
they would be waiting
with the sun
to hear the things
the old ones told her,
what was needed
for everyone.
...
#inspirational
279 reads
2 Comments
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
11th Mar 2020 4:20am
11th Mar 2020 4:20am
FREQUENCY
They lay supine
palms facing upwards,
floating just
above the ground.
Their breath is slow,
silent and steady,
from deep within
an emanating sound
begins to spread
throughout the forest
waking birds,
calling to frogs,
it seems to echo
through the valley,
bouncing off the
trees and logs.
Morganpoet
palms facing upwards,
floating just
above the ground.
Their breath is slow,
silent and steady,
from deep within
an emanating sound
begins to spread
throughout the forest
waking birds,
calling to frogs,
it seems to echo
through the valley,
bouncing off the
trees and logs.
Morganpoet
#spiritual
332 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
10th Mar 2020 2:27pm
10th Mar 2020 2:27pm
HOW I STAY SANE
All I ever do is write,
it's been that way
all my life.
Wherever I am,
whatever happens,
I write about it.
Somehow, for years now
I've found comfort,
a stable foundation
to always fall
back on.
Through my pen
on the page I can
always manage to
release and relieve,
give substance to
something I believe.
Explore an experience
to its core,
delving deep to find
just a bit more
than what's exposed.
For the rest of my life
I hope to write
most days and nights.
Whenever I'm...
it's been that way
all my life.
Wherever I am,
whatever happens,
I write about it.
Somehow, for years now
I've found comfort,
a stable foundation
to always fall
back on.
Through my pen
on the page I can
always manage to
release and relieve,
give substance to
something I believe.
Explore an experience
to its core,
delving deep to find
just a bit more
than what's exposed.
For the rest of my life
I hope to write
most days and nights.
Whenever I'm...
#MentalHealth
#healing
369 reads
1 Comment
SPIRITUAL POEM
Published
10th Mar 2020 6:55am
10th Mar 2020 6:55am
ENTWINED
Thinking about infinity,
the lazy figure eight,
a swirling spiral of energy
a weave used to create.
Bringing forth,
leaving behind,
crossing over
so what's ahead
can unwind,
to be rewoven
over again,
a continual motion
without end.
Being drawn away
to be pulled back,
around an invisible
core which holds
the slack - or
carries tension
as imbalances
tangle, causing
knots, where
only threads can
fray, trying to
find a way
to rebind.
Morganpoet
the lazy figure eight,
a swirling spiral of energy
a weave used to create.
Bringing forth,
leaving behind,
crossing over
so what's ahead
can unwind,
to be rewoven
over again,
a continual motion
without end.
Being drawn away
to be pulled back,
around an invisible
core which holds
the slack - or
carries tension
as imbalances
tangle, causing
knots, where
only threads can
fray, trying to
find a way
to rebind.
Morganpoet
#spiritual
330 reads
0 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
10th Mar 2020 6:09am
10th Mar 2020 6:09am
IN ALL THINGS I DWELL
When the Culdees sat
by the standing stone,
where the sidhe
was the chosen home,
at the top of a
rugged mountain peak,
deep in the valley
where insects speak,
a man travelled
into a future time
recreating himself
in a poets’ rhyme.
It was long ago, when
the world was new,
with fewer choices
of what to do,
this man sat gazing
in his chair,
he wasn't here,
he wasn't there,
he’d gone to the
place of in between
where imaginary
thoughts can be seen. ...
by the standing stone,
where the sidhe
was the chosen home,
at the top of a
rugged mountain peak,
deep in the valley
where insects speak,
a man travelled
into a future time
recreating himself
in a poets’ rhyme.
It was long ago, when
the world was new,
with fewer choices
of what to do,
this man sat gazing
in his chair,
he wasn't here,
he wasn't there,
he’d gone to the
place of in between
where imaginary
thoughts can be seen. ...
#spiritual
#mythology
442 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
9th Mar 2020 12:59pm
9th Mar 2020 12:59pm
LISTEN UP!
I take this megaphone
in my hand and call,
loud enough for all
the people to hear.
Onlookers are drawn
to be near my
howling wail,
staring at my skin
I release from within
the beginning of my song.
My words sing out
clear and strong ,
echo through streets
and lanes, along gutters
until entering the drains,
clearing the built up
residue created by a
lack of expression.
Morganpoet
in my hand and call,
loud enough for all
the people to hear.
Onlookers are drawn
to be near my
howling wail,
staring at my skin
I release from within
the beginning of my song.
My words sing out
clear and strong ,
echo through streets
and lanes, along gutters
until entering the drains,
clearing the built up
residue created by a
lack of expression.
Morganpoet
#inspirational
331 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Morganpoet
