Adelphina
Poem Published
7th Sep 2024 3:04am
7th Sep 2024 3:04am
Not like the Roses
And I, I'm not like
the roses
and I never had a lot
of choices
And he, he smelled like
the rain
and in one night he
became everything
I was born in the mud and
everyone noticed on the
other side of town
but he called me up
anyhow
came to my work and
took me out
Showed me how to
plant a kiss in the dark
by the ice skating rink
inside Bryant Park
And I felt like
impossible magic
closed my eyes ...
the roses
and I never had a lot
of choices
And he, he smelled like
the rain
and in one night he
became everything
I was born in the mud and
everyone noticed on the
other side of town
but he called me up
anyhow
came to my work and
took me out
Showed me how to
plant a kiss in the dark
by the ice skating rink
inside Bryant Park
And I felt like
impossible magic
closed my eyes ...
#gratitude
#love
#spiritual
439 reads
34 Comments
prometheus5290
Poem Published
4th Sep 2024 11:08am
4th Sep 2024 11:08am
Namaste
It is revealing,
and not at all surprising to me,
that women in America
adopted and adapted
Yogic practices
much more quickly
than American men.
and not at all surprising to me,
that women in America
adopted and adapted
Yogic practices
much more quickly
than American men.
#karma
#spiritual
132 reads
3 Comments
gothicsurrealism
Daniel Long
Daniel Long
Poem Published
31st May 2023 10:11am
31st May 2023 10:11am
Candle in the Darkness
That last day with you,
the sunset in your eyes,
a moment so delicate,
like a candle in the wind.
Though the candle flames
behind your eyes had been
pinched by the ice-cold
fingers of death.
A candle in the darkness,
the flamelight of your formless
spirit. We all need darkness
to see the flames of our souls.
We all have candles burning within
an unbodied soul, whose flamelight
chases away the darkness of death,
which otherwise consumes us.
Now through your shut,
unlighted eyes, the...
the sunset in your eyes,
a moment so delicate,
like a candle in the wind.
Though the candle flames
behind your eyes had been
pinched by the ice-cold
fingers of death.
A candle in the darkness,
the flamelight of your formless
spirit. We all need darkness
to see the flames of our souls.
We all have candles burning within
an unbodied soul, whose flamelight
chases away the darkness of death,
which otherwise consumes us.
Now through your shut,
unlighted eyes, the...
#dark
#death
#spiritual
#MentalHealth
#LifeCycle
476 reads
4 Comments
MalcolmG
Poem Published
10th Jan 2025 2:38am
10th Jan 2025 2:38am
The Dance of the King's Daughter
In the forest deep, the moonlight glows,
The princess dances, free from care,
A song of joy the wind bestows.
Knights stand still, the evening’s air,
Her laughter rises, wild and clear
In the forest deep, the moonlight glows.
The Nøkken stirs beneath the water’s lair,
His heart is moved, a longing dear.
A song of joy the wind bestows.
He calls a steed, a creature fair,
To steal her heart, to claim her near,
In the forest deep, the moonlight glows.
She rides with...
The princess dances, free from care,
A song of joy the wind bestows.
Knights stand still, the evening’s air,
Her laughter rises, wild and clear
In the forest deep, the moonlight glows.
The Nøkken stirs beneath the water’s lair,
His heart is moved, a longing dear.
A song of joy the wind bestows.
He calls a steed, a creature fair,
To steal her heart, to claim her near,
In the forest deep, the moonlight glows.
She rides with...
#culture
#mythology
#spiritual #tradition
#spiritual #tradition
77 reads
1 Comment
Indie
Miss Indie
Miss Indie
Poem Published
Today 3:22am
Today 3:22am
Lammas Bread
I keep trying to find meaning
in the circular nature of my life
like trying to find the corner
in a round room
My Celtic ancestors
celebrated the seasons
found meaning in the ordinary
cycles of life
(and probably drank
too much mead at every festival)
February 1 in the Southern Hemisphere
day of the autumn harvest
and I'm attempting to make
Lammas Bread for the first time
The recipe wasn't handed down
through the generations
I found it on a clothing website
that sells gothic...
in the circular nature of my life
like trying to find the corner
in a round room
My Celtic ancestors
celebrated the seasons
found meaning in the ordinary
cycles of life
(and probably drank
too much mead at every festival)
February 1 in the Southern Hemisphere
day of the autumn harvest
and I'm attempting to make
Lammas Bread for the first time
The recipe wasn't handed down
through the generations
I found it on a clothing website
that sells gothic...
#hope
#philosophical
#spiritual
36 reads
1 Comment
Lozzamus
Poem Published
5th May 2021 6:12pm
5th May 2021 6:12pm
A Near Death Experience?
I get up and leave, shivering outside as I walk across the hospital front in the freezing rain, the northern winds biting at my fingers and face, the downpour reaching deep into my trainers and socks. It's nearly half four in the afternoon, and already almost dark, more like late autumn or early winter.
An ambulance rushes into the front area of the hospital, lights flashing, and pulls to a halt by the entrance. For a while, I stand watching in a type of daze, remembering another time when an ambulance pulled up in the clearing at the bottom of Whaley Hill to take me to hospital...
An ambulance rushes into the front area of the hospital, lights flashing, and pulls to a halt by the entrance. For a while, I stand watching in a type of daze, remembering another time when an ambulance pulled up in the clearing at the bottom of Whaley Hill to take me to hospital...
#death
#spiritual
#memories #mystery
#memories #mystery
402 reads
6 Comments
Casted_Runes
Mr Karswell
Mr Karswell
Poem Published
1st Feb 2025 6:04pm
1st Feb 2025 6:04pm
A Faithless Eucharist
The only thing that gave me life
was art and literature,
though once I confused religion with such,
and so reclining with the damned,
I felt that I could follow Him.
But really it’s as empty as a faithless Eucharist,
and how I used art was only to form
a self that could like dough and flowers rise.
If not the Watchmaker at least
to some sense that you’re whole.
I think I’ll still be cynical and wretched at 50.
I’ve never cared for people, life,
except when evolution twists
genetic imperative’s knife.
was art and literature,
though once I confused religion with such,
and so reclining with the damned,
I felt that I could follow Him.
But really it’s as empty as a faithless Eucharist,
and how I used art was only to form
a self that could like dough and flowers rise.
If not the Watchmaker at least
to some sense that you’re whole.
I think I’ll still be cynical and wretched at 50.
I’ve never cared for people, life,
except when evolution twists
genetic imperative’s knife.
#apathy
#art
#atheism #spiritual
#atheism #spiritual
42 reads
0 Comments
Hashman
Poem Published
16th Jan 2025 2:10am
16th Jan 2025 2:10am
Black Raven
Standing before The Gate of Secrets
Full Moon up above
The Red Planet hanging by it's side.
Wonder what they're talking about...
So close yet so far
tell me what you know Mr Moon
tell me your dreams
tell me your secrets...
the raven caws
as Mars falls behind The Moon
it's all a mystery waiting to be sloved
and the moon dances through the clouds
caw caw
says the raven...
Full Moon up above
The Red Planet hanging by it's side.
Wonder what they're talking about...
So close yet so far
tell me what you know Mr Moon
tell me your dreams
tell me your secrets...
the raven caws
as Mars falls behind The Moon
it's all a mystery waiting to be sloved
and the moon dances through the clouds
caw caw
says the raven...
#fate
#shadows
#spiritual
35 reads
0 Comments
runningturtle87
Poem Published
27th Mar 2022 11:43am
27th Mar 2022 11:43am
Coming and Going
Coming and Going
I met myself
Coming
And going
Like a hit
And run
Disaster.
It's hard
To know
What you're
Going through
Until,
Sometimes,
Way after.
I saw myself
In the way
She was,
A firehose
Of reeling,
A bell
That rang
Itself aloud
And carried on
Its peeling.
What really
Sent me
Over the edge
And had me
Coming
And going
Was how
She kept
That steady
Flow
Of speaking
As she's ...
I met myself
Coming
And going
Like a hit
And run
Disaster.
It's hard
To know
What you're
Going through
Until,
Sometimes,
Way after.
I saw myself
In the way
She was,
A firehose
Of reeling,
A bell
That rang
Itself aloud
And carried on
Its peeling.
What really
Sent me
Over the edge
And had me
Coming
And going
Was how
She kept
That steady
Flow
Of speaking
As she's ...
#courage
#dark
#spiritual
#patience
#tolerance
484 reads
4 Comments
Baldwin
Poem Published
4th Feb 2020 4:07pm
4th Feb 2020 4:07pm
Quit Telling Me that Heaven Is My Home
You say it is my destiny,
if I show “faith”,
to end up as essentially a ghost
that stays for all eternity
within an otherworldly ghosty place
sans all the flesh
that stands now as
the sign and seat of my identity.
But isn’t this a lie?
For after all, it’s something that
quite fundamentally denies
the import of the proclamation that
the I Am said
when he created in fixed form
the earth
to be man’s dwelling and his home;
that it, and not
some disincarnate realm
beyond the...
if I show “faith”,
to end up as essentially a ghost
that stays for all eternity
within an otherworldly ghosty place
sans all the flesh
that stands now as
the sign and seat of my identity.
But isn’t this a lie?
For after all, it’s something that
quite fundamentally denies
the import of the proclamation that
the I Am said
when he created in fixed form
the earth
to be man’s dwelling and his home;
that it, and not
some disincarnate realm
beyond the...
#spiritual
340 reads
1 Comment
Jade72
Poem Published
23rd Jan 2025 11:41pm
23rd Jan 2025 11:41pm
Your ghost still haunts me
When dusks awakens and dew presents a lazy morning
My mind vagabonds to tender moments, where our bodies entertwined
Whenever the breeze plays its melody trough my soaring wings
The thought of you softly caresses my psyche
Your spirit surrounds me when I bathe,
Lathering becomes a playfull splurge of the senses
Your ghost still haunts me
I will forever be in love with the memory of you...
My mind vagabonds to tender moments, where our bodies entertwined
Whenever the breeze plays its melody trough my soaring wings
The thought of you softly caresses my psyche
Your spirit surrounds me when I bathe,
Lathering becomes a playfull splurge of the senses
Your ghost still haunts me
I will forever be in love with the memory of you...
#love
#myself
#relationships
#SelfReflection
#spiritual
103 reads
2 Comments
mysticstones
Poem Published
4th May 2021 8:19pm
4th May 2021 8:19pm
so is May
the winds bring in
whispering for all to begin
a glow comes from the night
drifting a magic of passionate delight
once more the return
from the ground the ferns...
green slender spore filled fronds
as all in rapture, being to spawn.
twisted in love
the continued union of trust
coveted from spring watered dust
spinning round and round,
the petals of bloom braided in, so to speak
oh, the auburn in your hair
radiating beams as the moon seeks.
the ritual spun in desire
from May's bright fire.
the handfastings,...
whispering for all to begin
a glow comes from the night
drifting a magic of passionate delight
once more the return
from the ground the ferns...
green slender spore filled fronds
as all in rapture, being to spawn.
twisted in love
the continued union of trust
coveted from spring watered dust
spinning round and round,
the petals of bloom braided in, so to speak
oh, the auburn in your hair
radiating beams as the moon seeks.
the ritual spun in desire
from May's bright fire.
the handfastings,...
#spiritual
300 reads
8 Comments
DU Poetry : Spiritual by Top Critiquers Poems
