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Apr 16 · 125
Conquer Now
Andrei Marin Apr 16
Conquer now, little by little,
work hard and harder, just don't become brittle,
hard work devoid of true rest, will surely derail your quest,
you aren't the first or the last, to go through hardships,
remember the past,
many before you have come and gone,
so what makes you think,
that you are the one?

It doesn't matter,
do your very best,
so you'll be able to end,
without regret in your chest,
that you didn't try, or were afraid to act,
we are all meant to die, and that's a proven fact,
no, you might not get rich, or have stadiums packed,
but your hearth will be right, you were brave in the fight.
The true "be strong" poem
Apr 16 · 80
Wings of stone
Andrei Marin Apr 16
Wings of stone will weigh you down,
Not a shield, just a lie,
Forge from love, a thorny crown,
Wings of faith, to lift you high,
Hope will bind you to the sky.

Heart of stone will make you weak,
Won't protect you, just a lie,
Each day passing, it'll turn you sick,
But even now, you still can't cry,
In the end, don't ask why,
Your heart will shatter, freeze or die.
This is to all on the path of broken hearts... Sometimes it is healthier to accept the pain and go through it rather than hardening your hearts and hiding away.
Apr 15 · 82
Destruction by pride
Andrei Marin Apr 15
There is a sign in the sky,
the winds are changing,
flags are set to fly,
people are raging.

Stars are falling down,
people receive visions,
everyone is fighting for the crown,
marching divisions.

And as the dust is rising,
among the cries of war,
there comes a lone traveler,
never seen before.

He speaks of the future,
of destruction and death,
he says this could be,
humanity's last breath.

His words are wise,
will no one heed, but,
the people are enraged,
they attack with speed,
yet the traveler is gone,
he is nowhere to be found,
but on his way to others,
of minds more sound.

In the meantime,
the wars go on,
brave warriors proven,
yet still none won,
the battle of futility,
of empty pride and shame,
hoping all along,
someone will remember their name.

Why are all people so proud?
Why are all so desperate to stand out from the crowd?

Is it because they're afraid of oblivion?
The traveler asks himself.
They seem to want to become another book on the shelf...

So they sign their name in fire, blood and steel,
forcing thousands of innocents to kneel,
thinking by this they will be remembered as great conquerors, chosen by destiny,
truly they are wanderers,
soon to be forgotten...
This is just a rhyming prophecy/ballad leftover from a story I'm writing.
Andrei Marin Apr 15
Conquer now, little by little,
work hard and harder, just don't become frail,
hard work devoid of true rest, will surely derail your journey,
you aren't the first or the last, to go through hardships,
remember the history,
many before you have come and gone,
so what makes you think,
that you are the special?

It doesn't matter,
do your very best,
so you'll be able to end,
without regret in your heart,
that you didn't try, or were afraid to act,
we are all meant to die, and that's a proven thing,
no, you might not get rich, or have stadiums packed,
but your hearth will be right, you were brave in the battle.
So this is an exercise in poetry: I have intentionally ruined this poem of mine by replacing the key rhyming words with non rhyming synonyms.
Try to find the replaced words in order to make the poem rhyme again.
Have fun : ))
Jul 2019 · 385
Let your heart cry
Andrei Marin Jul 2019
Let your  heart cry, but shed no tear,
Lift your eyes, don't you fear,
Sorrow isn't evil,
Unless you keep it near,
Breathe in peace, and move on dear.
Just jamming
Jul 2019 · 131
Bittersweet End
Andrei Marin Jul 2019
End of the line,
What a marvelous phrase,
To let it sink in,
As I lower my gaze,
Into my almost empty cup of tea,
There's no more time to spare,
Wondering, who was I meant to be..

Time has passed,
Filled with confusion,
I wish I'd dealt less,
With silly illusion,
And focused more,
On Who is above,
He gifted me purpose,
And the power to love.

I've run the race, I wasn't very fast,
I just thank God, I didn't arrive last,
He always guided me back to the path,
With infinite patience,
With mercy and grace,
I was able to run, to finish the race.

Now I'm ready, to empty my cup,
To finish my tea, to lift my head up.
Imagining myself and my feelings near the time of death, I'm pretty sure this is how I'll feel; thankful and peaceful, but also sorry for lost time.
Feb 2018 · 326
I'll be the one
Andrei Marin Feb 2018
I'll be the one who sings You praise,
for You are the one who changes my ways,
You light the blaze, deep in my heart,
You have been here, right from the start,

I'll always be ready, to thank you again,
for the greatest sacrifice, that day on the cross,
You guide me each day, through all pain and loss,

Driven by your love, I'll never let go,
I came a long way, and learned so much,
One thing first, I came to know,
That everyone is healed by Your touch.
A small thank you to God
Feb 2018 · 112
Andrei Marin Feb 2018
When the world all around is sad and gray,
Looking up, start to pray,
In a quiet corner, out of sight,
A small prayer has more might,
Than any evil in the night.
Hello Poetry is full of dark and depressing poems lately, I'm just trying to spread some light.
Apr 2017 · 245
Andrei Marin Apr 2017
For if He gives me patience,
I will stand still,
constant as a mountain,
I will do His will.
Mar 2017 · 1.1k
Ode to Tea
Andrei Marin Mar 2017
The universe in a cup,
Raise it to your lip,
Sing a note of silence,
Then take a timeless sip.
As a theophile, tea is an important part of my life; with each sip of good tea feeling timeless.
Feb 2017 · 327
If you really knew God
Andrei Marin Feb 2017
If you actually knew God,
not just from what you've heard,
If you took a little time,
Just to read His word,

If you knew real love,
That reaches SO incredibly deep,
After the many many times,
You made Him weep,

If you knew true evil,
If you saw true good,
If you knew they are not just feelings,
Not just a human mood,

You would know and understand,
Who God really is,
You would allow Him to mend,
Just by saying please,
Your scars, your soul,
Your pain, your whole.

Reading your poem,
Has broken my heart,
But we each have a choice,
We each play a part...

He has given us,
The gift of free will,
We can choose to heal,
We can choose to ****...

It's as simple as that,
No less, no more,
Belief and action,
is what we'll be judged for.
This was inspired by J.R.'s "breaking up with God"...
That poem deeply saddened me, and inspired me to write this.
Jan 2017 · 276
The good life
Andrei Marin Jan 2017
Watching one single leaf, while it flutters through the air,
upon cloudy blue skies, my reality starts to tear:
as beauty; this I need, to live happily; indeed,

I don't need riches or fame,
I don't need to rule,
or have a much uttered name...

All I need is to enjoy, simple beauty and peace,
to be able to create, using art as my release,
all emotions, bad and good,
only carvings in deadwood...  

All I need is to enjoy, the work of my hands under the sky,
as I live peacefully, while decades pass me by.
Oct 2016 · 724
Only it will last
Andrei Marin Oct 2016
Listen to the voices of present, past;
look to the future:
nothing will last.

Except for God's grace, eternally true,
take it now: it's meant for you.
A short poem about God's grace.
Sep 2016 · 202
I wish to be a light
Andrei Marin Sep 2016
I wish to be a light in a world of darkness,

I wish to be a moon in a sky of blackness,

I wish to reflect the flame; the never ending light,

God please help me, help me fight, the darkness inside, in all it's might...
Then to change the world, outside.

Stoke my flame Lord,
make it bright,
turn it from red to yellow, from yellow to white...

So I can inspire people like You inspired me,
to fight the good fight,
to write their own story,
a tale of
and bravery.
Just a prayer turned poem.
Sep 2016 · 502
Validation (haiku)
Andrei Marin Sep 2016
You worry too much,
about other's opinions,
not to loose respect.
I wrote this for someone who chose to be validated by people's acceptance...
Aug 2016 · 598
Just another port
Andrei Marin Aug 2016
Boats and ships are sailing in and out, seafarers and merchants; bustling about, the busy port, like a work of art, filled with last kisses, before long months apart.

A place of noises, smells, emotion, comotion...
A place of lies, farewells and goodbyes...

The sea is calling so many away, starting adventures one beautiful day, watching the winds and waves at play.

The port is a sad and happy place, for him: an adventure ready to start,
for her: a sad day, before a long time apart.
This is how I would imagine a harbor/port...
I know it's not the case today, but it's still fun to imagine it like in the old days...
Aug 2016 · 2.2k
Creepy girl in white
Andrei Marin Aug 2016
Do not follow the girl in white,

for she will lead you out of sight,

end your life with sure delight,

against your struggles; all your might,

you'll never again see the light...
A scary short poem for campfires/sleepovers. ; )
Andrei Marin Aug 2016
The spirit of invention is a wild one:

it does not fear failure,
it craves adventure,
lives on inspiration,
it is misunderstood,
yet preservers trough the hardest of times...

It accomplishes the impossible and elevates the spirit to new heights...

It has passion for art, creation and perfection...

The spirit of invention lives in us all.
Dare to release it!
This is my definition of creativity/invention, as I feel it...
Aug 2016 · 224
Remember My love?
Andrei Marin Aug 2016
How many stars are to fall, until you notice, who made them all?

How many seas are to dry, until you see how hard I try?

How many dreams are to be , until you remember Me?

I love you more than you can fathom, and yet you can't seem to remember Me,
you leave Me in the corner,
waiting patiently...

But when you'll need Me,
I'll still be here;
and even if I seem far,
I'll always be near.

Forever loving

Andrei Marin Aug 2016
I looked into myself one day,
like I never looked before,
and I realized that what I have inside: I don't want it anymore!

All these weaknesses, this is not who I want to be;
this is not even how other people see me....

I thought I was stronger, I thought I was smarter, I saw myself braver, better than I was, I overestimated myself, I guess I just need a pause.

The door to my soul is open, it just doesn't close, maybe all of this is from a sadness overdose.

What I have inside, I need to clean it out; tried to do it alone, but it just wouldn't let go; all the problems in me just keep saying no! We won't go!

Now, I still got my faults,
I still have my flaws,
but I also disappointed myself;
I couldn't keep my own laws...

Refrain, restrain,
all things are in vain. 

I thought I could do it,
but I had to learn the hard way,

only God can save me:
there is no other way;

you can improve yourself, sure,
you can get better, but there will be a time when you'll be caught off guard, later, when your not ready, or when your tired, who will hold you up then, someone you admired?

Anyone will criticize, anyone can point, but who will stop to help, who won't disappoint?

Only Jesus can help you, only He can set you free, 
from the struggles inside,
from all of which you flee,
and no matter what,
to Him you can always go,
if you need help,
you can always ask, and the truth will set you free,
free from your own mask,
and your lies,
you won't need them anymore, cause on wings of truth you'll soar,
and when you'll need to stand,
you can stand tall,
on a mountain of truth from which you can never fall. 

Now in Him I can improve, in Him I can grow,
because He forgave my sins, He made them go, no,
I don't have to worry, about my destiny, he gave me peace,
he made me worry-free.

I forgot it for a bit, forgot the way to the light, I forgot that He saved me long ago, saved me with His might.

There is nothing here for me, nothing more to see, so I'm on my way now, to become forever free.
I wrote this poem more than a year ago, when I felt really disappointed by myself for my lack of character and maturity.

It took me three days to write, in spite of the fact that it usually takes me about half an hour to finish a regular poem...
Aug 2016 · 542
Last patrol
Andrei Marin Aug 2016
There was a rhythm in the night,
an echo from out of sight,

footsteps on cold concrete,
in an ally, dimly lit.

It was his last night guarding,
representing law and justice,
so much patience to practice.

He worked for the police: so slow and sluggish,
bound up in red tape, corruption and *******...

But tomorrow he'll be free,
returning to his farm house; the one with the old tree,
breathing in the fresh air, with the scent of young grass,
not like the city, smelling of smoke and gas.

His dreaming was cut short, by the sound of shattered glass,
turning around he saw a spark, heard a shot: he was caught...

Falling into death, the eternal black mass,
the last thing he saw; fields of green grass...
Aug 2016 · 517
Poor little sapling
Andrei Marin Aug 2016
Little sapling growing on the roadside, defying the pitiful looks of passers by, fate has truly given you a poor place to reside,  but one day, you'll grow to touch the sky.

Poor little sapling, struggling to survive, but when you'll grow, under your shade all will thrive...

People look down on you now, rejoice, for when you'll grow, with respect before you they'll bow.

Inspire them you will, and poems of you they'll write, fires will burn beneath you still, in the middle of the night.
Wrote this after I saw a little tree trying to grow on the dusty roadside... The little guy really inspired me.
Aug 2016 · 404
White bird (peace)
Andrei Marin Aug 2016
As the white bird flies away, 

I ask myself : how did we come to this end for today?

Simple deeds, simple words, have made today end this way.

Little seeds of anger, grown with rain of pride, have grown on my inside...

A little anger, some mistrust, here comes frustration, here comes disgust.

I forgot my patience, I forgot my kindness, but now I'll ask for forgiveness, and I'll give it away, for the white bird to return tomorrow, if not today.
A poem written after a painful argument.
Aug 2016 · 428
Leaving you behind (haiku)
Andrei Marin Aug 2016
As the sea is blue,
And I belong in my land,
Cold winds engulf you.
This is my first Haiku
Aug 2016 · 720
Dream forest
Andrei Marin Aug 2016
I've been to a forest where the birds are always singing, and the echo in the forest, it too is always ringing, with the silence of the trees, and the rustle of the leaves, It's where I go to pray, on my knees, it's where I praise the creator of all I see; He gives me strength; He changes me.

Where rain falls in drops of silk,
where engulfing fog is white as milk,

where the notes from my flute,
are carried wide and far,
where moonless nights are black as tar, 

I see the night sky painted in spots of white, and the moon shining bright,

where I can hear the lonely owl, 
or the ghostly wolf howl,

where the sight of fireflies rids your heart of lies, and inspires perfect, poetic lines...

It's a little piece of paradise, where I go to clean my eyes.
I actually know a forest like this in Romania, but this poem specifically has been written in Germany, in a little forest in winter, where I would go out and play my flute, taking advantage of the Forest's great acoustics which greatly amplified every note coming out of my flute.
Aug 2016 · 262
Love is not a game
Andrei Marin Aug 2016
Why compare love to a game?
You of all people should known they are not the same.

Love is like fire, disrespect it and it burns, without love everything you do, like a boomerang turns.

But love is willing to forget, to forgive, in it, lies a better meaning to live.

Love is a sacrifice, it is forever kind and true, love knows of us, not of me and you. 

Never aging, so tender yet so strong, love will never end, in our hearts it does belong.
I wrote this poem as a statement and response to all those who underrate love and confuse it with lust. Love is so much more...
Aug 2016 · 924
A warrior's story
Andrei Marin Aug 2016
There was once a warrior, long long ago, who didn't know what to do, didn't know where to go, to run from his enemy, to hide from his foe.

The duel was fierce, the tides were his, but, when his nemesis he was about to pierce, a silent arrow was released to fly, cutting flesh, it entered his thigh, and so, he was left there to die.

Close to his end, he had a dream, and there before him, stood the forest queen, and said onto him: I give now life onto thee, but if you waste it on revenge, don't turn back to me, try to lead a good life, live it to the full, forget your old life, and don't be a fool!

As she came, the good fairy vanished, and the man went on his way, from his hometown now banished.

He built a new life, far far away, where no one could find him, and hands on him lay. 

But his enemy was smart, he was no fool, he was searching for our man, with rage as his fuel. 

The good man got word of the nearing danger, from the town people, who saw the menacing stranger.

He got tired of hiding, so he strung his bow, took his sword, and faced his foe.

Once again he had to fight, but this time, there was peace in his mind.

He searched not for revenge, so his head was cool, his enemy however, acted like a fool: for he was swinging his sword from side to side, so the archer from behind could not shoot an arrow he could not guide.

Once more the hero was winning the fight, so the archer pulled the poisonous arrow back with all his might, and let it go on it's deadly flight.

A gust of wind then blew from among the trees, changing it's course, riding the breeze, the arrow slid past the innocent fighter, and pierced the heart of the treacherous hearted rider.

When the dust cleared, only the good was left standing, after a long fight, over his dead enemies panting. 

Plain justice was better than any revenge, now his life, for the better would change, he could go back to his old home, or he could start a journey alone, for now he was free, he didn't have to hide, and so, no fear was left in his mind.
I wrote this little story one windy afternoon in the park, but it's a rather simple and childish tale...
Aug 2016 · 180
Fall and Winter
Andrei Marin Aug 2016
The sun is shining atop,
a blue autumn sky,
time for the birds to leave,
time to say goodbye...

Leaves are falling from the proud tall trees,
as they're taken away by a chilling breeze...

Leaves of many colours,
brown, red and yellow,
land around the age old willow.

Less and less is the sun showing it's gold warm face,
and each beam of sunlight is a ray of grace...
Leaves are falling into a cold mountain lake,
and onto the sky's reflection, ripples they make.

And so, red fall and white winter, have come this land with cold to blister, to send it into a deep slumber, and afterwards to awaken younger.
Aug 2016 · 353
Late Summer Rain
Andrei Marin Aug 2016
As the light bulb in my lamp slowly burns it’s life away,
I read to the music of rain, falling from clouds of gray.

Surrounded by old books and travel souvenirs,
I can feel the coziness of warm old memories,
as they light up my heart with joyful melodies.

Dusk has passed and the rain has ceased,
dispersed clouds the night sky have eased,
as they let rays of white moonlight,
reflect from many droplets, shining bright.

As the clock ticks away into the night,
the silence grows overwhelming,
so I’ll play my favorite songs tonight,
while my adventures remembering
Aug 2016 · 225
For those without hope
Andrei Marin Aug 2016
If the world is bleak and tasteless, and you hope that your death will be painless,

and all around you are wolves and sheep, and only your lyrics are true and deep,

and your talent is unappreciated,
and you yourself are underrated,

If your dream for the world is misunderstood, and you are not part of any brotherhood,

If they belong in groups, and are slaves to peer pressure, if you are a loner, pursuing quiet and leisure,

If you feel that life is just a speck of dust; stone will erode and iron will rust,

If all hope is naive, but the hope of dying, and people forgot the truth; they believe in lying,

If all are selfish, and none is true, then listen to me, as I speak to you:

Look at the meadows, flowers, trees,
feel the wind, earth and the seas...

Look at the children: happy and carefree, in which their parents found meaning and destiny....

Look at poets and thinkers like you, people who've made it their mission to speak true...

Look at the farmer in the field, who depends on God's mercy for the crops to yield...

Their lives are not as bleak as they seem,
colorful emotions fill their routine.

So don't loose hope, hope is for the brave! The person of change is not depression's slave...

Start by speaking up, change the world you see, only then you'll discover: that's your destiny.

Anyone can criticize, anyone can point, but who will start to work, who won't disappoint?
I wrote this poem after reading numerous depressing and sad poems...

— The End —