Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Dec 2018
Mohd Arshad
None except God could
paint the moon on the face of
water as it is.
 Dec 2018
Try not to hate me
If you can
I never meant
To expose my hand
Yes it's true
I just don't believe
Yet my mind is open
To all I see!

And that don't mean
That I can't love
I wish there was
Someone above!
To take this burden
And stop this bleed
Then perhaps
I could just be me!
Traveler Tim
My Heart is crying for the Hurting , for those without Hope.
My Heart, aches with each of those who are Hurting now.
I am so Heart-Broken for each and everyone of you too.
I too have Heartaches, some by my doings here on the earth.
While other times , I have been rejected for no reason known.
Still I know that Christ shall use my Pain to help others out.
Whom are going through the same things that I have went through.
Still Christ is going to use them mightly for His Glory too.
For Christ wants to use each of Us in a huge way here on the earth.
 Nov 2018

Don't give up so **** easy!
Try and find a common ground
Don't be that same old stubborn ***
Put away your
Know it all crowns

Those loving eye's
With the judgmental squint
Here's a tool to not get bent
Write a poem
While taking a ****
Do flush
But let your words set
Near the stool
So all can read
Don't be cruel
Let your poetry

Share the love!
It’s a gifted of the Divine....
Traveler Tim
Happy Turkey Day Friends
 Nov 2018
Too many expert voices lay a claim on your shape,
You are either too full, or
You have gone too far,
Too many moulds get thrusted at your face,
To some you resemble a pear,
But they feel your should look more double cherry,
And whichever fruit you succeed in turning into,
You still, are a tad too hairy
But then does anyone ever tell you,
That sometimes ice cream will be the only answer
And that is just fine?
That a bedtime prayer can be enough night-time routine,
Which needn't include expensive lotions and creams,
That you need fats as well as you need protein,
As also each little gift that Nature crafted lovingly
For this marvel of a creation that is your Being-
So that your skin is fed and living,
And your knees are lubricated and sprightly,
And your blood is rich and active,
And your soul-
No one will give you
"How I brightened my soul in 4 weeks" tutorials,
But you ought to set your happy soul-goals,
A tummy rub in a sunny lawn on a lazy winter afternoon/
A drenching bath in heavy July rains/
A spontaneous poem effortlessly jotted down on a napkin
And when you're that happy you will know
That you aren't a cut-out on public display,
Not a fruit,
not a diet,
not a fad that peaks and wanes,
You are an everlasting uniqueness,
You are an undefined shape,
You are that collection of rare energies
That only comes custom-made.
 Nov 2018
There is chaos in this cosmos.

God's Eden order was lost.

Yet to him order isn't gone.

Chaos is simply his pawn.

It is part of his big story.

Its darkness reveals his glory.

So bring your chaos to him.

Light takes joy in pervading the dim.
Written 7 August 2018

God gets joy by solving our chaos, if only we would bring it to him.
 Oct 2018
Philip Winchester
All that I have ,give I to thee. Ref 006.
All that I have , give I to thee.
Listen while I relate the facts
Look into my eyes and see

The truth of my love for you.
Having a devotion unconditionally
All that I have give I to thee.
The spark we have burns bright

It is like a beacon, a guiding light.

Hopes and dreams reach reality
All that I have give I to thee.
Virtually every wish is coming true
Eventually angels grant our desires

Granted for we love unconditionally
I love you Barbara ,know this is true
Vain my entreaties to prove it to you
Each and every action betwixt us .

It is like a powerful star in the sky

Transforming light of day in night
Oh how I pray that we may survive

To continue in our journey thru life
Happy in the thoughts we have
Enjoy your life with me my Darling
Everlasting  pleasure God grants us
Philip. January 29th 2017.
Written to my wife Barbara in the days of our life of absolute happiness.
 Sep 2018
"There she is, the freak" they say,
Their constant judgement, every day,
The taunts and fear with equal measure,
They'd burn me out for sure, with pleasure.

Children pointing in the street,
Adults never want to meet,
Fairytales of warts and bats,
Do not help me, that's a fact.

Love and kindness is my game,
Casting spells without the fame,
Those who make their bad views felt,
Are also those who ask for help.

With all my good intentions I,
Will ask the earth, the moon the sky,
These people's lives to be enhanced,
I say the words, and sway the dance.

I never ask for me or mine,
I leave it up to the divine,
I never spite, or grudge or hate,
As Karma couples hands with fate.

So all I ask from everyone,
Is stop your kin from poking fun,
But my belief is to forgive,
And always live, and let live....
It's unpleasant when I can't walk down the street without children pointing at the "Witch". Fuelled by the adults who plant such ******* in their heads....
 Sep 2018
What if I could believed
All those impossible stories
All those brilliant miracles
Majestic in their glories
The proverbs
You teach your children
The comfort of your gift
What if it were true
That destinies were some how fixed

Where is this place
Where truth is hidden
For only the chosen few
The gathering of angels
The conversion of the Jews
Where are your invisible deities
The miracles of their love
If they’re real, then no big deal
They can stop the wars
From above  

Sea of gold
Trees of knowledge and life
A ****** heart
Becomes god's wife
Bowing down
Forever more
Before the judgmental
Blood stained floor
Answering questions like
Did you support the war
I'm afraid you'll need
To convince me more...
Traveler Tim

Thought of my morn.
 Aug 2018
Nat Lipstadt
this is a very important poem to me,
about me, and how Obama slurred my people. and never apologized


there are mornings when I wake up
in my nativity,
in my born/bred,
these struggling to be happy,
United States,
strangely hebrew-speaking,
Jamaican coffee
tallying up
what I am,
who I am,
commanded to be,
on this Earth

the labels that the
outward-looking apply,
the tags,
that you have caused
yourself to be defined,
been staked
to your claim,
in infamy and in fame,
that you have
by action and indeed,

have allow
to be presented
as entries on your
global entry passport,
with visas from the
lows and highs,
places where
your have sinned and saved,
all the acts accumulated,
and those,
in pain,
you have been a witness to

word titles that
tinge and suffuse,
summation of my presentation,
sampler of words
father, poet,
a for-real
community organizer,
and of course,
bien sûr,

the quality of all these life's papers,
which I grade myself,
the harshest marker
of all

once a young man,
safely away in college,
under the fresh-air freedom of the
university's in loco parentis,
in the early years
spent quantifying oneself

nearly fifty years ago,
now he,
revealed and recalled
his college typed-letter,
lately uncovered amidst his,
recently passed mother's papers

"Don't know what kind of
I will be, but be assured,
that I will be a
all my life"

so here I am doing my post-sabbath,
top of the week,
right it down,
qualifying myself,
coffee enraged engaged,
a new Sunday tally

taking all my terms,
what was prior, first,
is no longer

decades decay,
events sway,
simple words change me, stain me

nearing on five decades later,
when this
son of speakers,
son of humanists and 
son of
son of proud
rewrites his list

today I write/substitute,
a new order,
a tag gladly taken,
a marker given,
some what in pride,
some in shame too,
first and foremost,
à la manière d'Lincoln
I am
of, by and for

"a bunch of folks in a deli"

proud member of them
that so identify,
for they are among those
that shall not perish from the Earth

bunch of folks in a deli,
I claim as
mine own,
as they would
have claimed me

no subtly professed,
a diminishment intended,
and now
an honorific taken,
Medal of Honor provoked and embraced,
proudly inscribed,
visible on my forehead,
in the black ink of mourning,
a Presidential Cain Citation,
a tattoo of letters,
not numbers,
now moves up to
head of the list,
I am
now and forever,
a member of that corps
(appreciate that double entendre)
I am
Je suis

*"a bunch of folks in a deli"
Just google that phrase

Obama’s slur
Next page