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Cori MacNaughton Jun 2015
You asked me to say what I believe
What do I hold precious and why
I believe in the Glory of life on Earth
I believe it essential to fly

We live in a Universe unto itself
Its diversity not fully known
As we tread in the pathways of those gone before
Where in truth we are never alone

I believe that each enemy might be a friend
For their circumstance comes of a need
I believe that all people are One in the end
No matter their color or creed

I believe in humanity deep in the soul
Which enlightens the Spirit to see
I believe that creation was born out of love
And enables the soul to be free

30 Sept 2000
I wrote this poem in response to a late night conversation with my stepson on a sailing trip, albeit some time after.  I have read it in public on numerous occasions and it appeared online on the website of www.deist.com, which used to be a site regarding religion and philosophy, but apparently no longer exists in that form.
Styles Jun 2015
I found you
and found love;
along the way
lost everything
double meaning:
Creatively enticing,
   profoundly sensual
  boundlessly experienced,
cryptically presumptive
inordinately exclusive
 
 effusively lavished,
anesthetized or blatant
allusive beyond ethereal,
metaphorically inferred
criminal insanity

disquiet midst agitation,
peaceably surrendered
illustriously polished
or indubitably raw
    fruitful to a fault - -
in reciprocity's glory be

   quenches thirst,
     satiates a hunger
flourished midst ink's
designed grandeur,
poetry never fails to thrive,
   tripping the light fantastic  
    in its exuberant offering*

Seize the power
Nicholas Fogle Jun 2015
Let the cage be rattled,
the foundation be crushed,
who else has had enough?

Enough of the dull life.
Enough of being wrong or right.
Enough of the ungrateful like.

Boundaries stop us because we bound our selves .
Limited by limitation on self approval and glory.
Souls bathed in ****** glory

Come fight for your life as you want
Wounder and wander letting fools squander
But never have enough.
Motivate
Nameless Poet Jun 2015
I don't need fancy word play to say
that each day,
has some hurt and praise
Ever Day
Christian Bixler Jun 2015
The stars are fading, the moon is falling.
Above the midnight canopy lightens slowly;
shades of gray, spreading out, day is breaking.
Dawn comes with the rising sun. Light soars to fill
the sky, red and gold, nights shadows chased before
it, the Sun, resplendent in shining glory, bringer of the
new day. Birds cry and leap from the trees, notes shrill and
joyous, fair heralds of the day. The sun climbs slowly, beginning
it's journey across the heavens, the sky, glorious in azure splendour.
Clouds, wisps of shining air, frail in the light of day, change from the ruddy
red and the the glowing gold; colors of the new dawn. Pearly white they grace the
sky, celestial palaces and woodland creatures, the deer and the dragon, all in white within
the blue. And so the noontime passes, clouds obscuring then revealing, the sun eternal
rides the sky, and the clouds shine with light and the creatures of the air soar, crying
Praises of the sun in shrill voices. Eventide, the birds glide down to rest, in
the bowers of the trees. The light is green and gold, red and violet, white and
pink, colors of the sunset. The sun falls in the west, the moon rises in the
east, and at last the day is done, the Suns splendour vanished,
replaced by the shining light of a pale moon, and the far
away light of a thousand, thousand stars. And so is
day ended, and night begun, the darkness given sway.
The world lies in shadow, sleep takes the creatures
of the sun, the earth lies in shadow, to await the
new day.
The day is glorious, and the Suns splendour is without measure. The night is beautiful also,
frosted with stars and galaxies, and far away worlds. But this is a tribute to the day, and so
night, now, must be held at bay.
Does my mirror lie?
Or maybe my vision is just blared.
I was told that I was created
To bear both beauty,
And wonders.

So I wash my body,
Clean my face,color my eyebrows
And glitter my lips.

I awoke to view the mirror,
In the early hours of the morning,
Before the water and the glitter I beheld.

I was molded by him,
His gentle hands caressed my face,
Even as he breathed in me
The spirit of life.
Gave me strength,vision and a will..
So that I can be wonderful.

Yet,
I cannot see any of them in the mirror..
Talents go beyond the beauty of the face.. Its only the mirror in the soul that expose them..
And so I wonder..
David Rosson Jun 2015
it isn't until a page is polluted by words and pictures that it is found captivating and inspiring
yet when i find an empty yet infinite sky resting overhead i cant help but marvel and feel joy wash against the walls of my heart
like a storm cleansing me of all that doesnt belong

and when its done, the clouds will fade away and i too will be much like the beautiful sky that i have such a love for
AK Bright May 2015
I think somewhere down the line in our parents' efforts to give us everything they never had, they forgot to give us what they Did have~

Grandpa had grit
He knew how to fight
Not for sport
but for that which was right

Up at dawn
His trade was life
Doing what he must
Dusting off strife

He'd say "It's just a reminder
that we're all still alive"
He'd just square back his shoulders
and cut Hell down to size

All but gone are the days
of men standing strong
Everything's grey
there's no right or wrong

We sit back and wonder
where our glory days went
I saw them galloping towards purgatory
saddled with truth, upon common sense
One day soon i will not be
Die i will, it is my destiny
but ill leave my poems behind
and i will leave my prose to shine
and ill leave, and wont come back
and ill die and that's a fact
but the knowledge I've gained, i leave you to trust
and the mention of my name
will **** any and all lust
i hope to leave this world better than when i came into it
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