Only through fire and ice
Only through bad and nice
Only through cards and dice
Only through things said thrice
A poets way
another day
trying to leave people with more think
leaving no boat to die and sink.
Like an old creaky door
Unlocked, unhinged

From the old haunted house
High on Haggards Hill

Poetic phrases disengage
unwritten, unread

Metaphors and similes
Lay completely still
Oliver Philip Dec 2018
The challenge
     (Free Verse )
Praise be to *** , we have eyes to see beyond
Befitting the wit of Mankind ever strong.
For years four-hundred maybe five
The Poets made the words to come alive.
Challenging proved me right n seldom wrong

The first rhymes I made way back at school
My fairest weather friends thought me a fool
A waste of useful time the taunted cry
Have they much better things always to do?
And to their fine X-Boxes could be glued.
Written by Philip.
December 1st 2018.
The challenge of free verse
K Balachandran Dec 2018
Crazy nomad soul
Finds sanctuary tranquil
In poetic flights!
Oliver Philip Dec 2018
ABCDERIAN   poets Army.
Awake my giant cause and fast defend
Be proud of your selection to this human race
Cheeks to be turned , struck and turned again
Discover sooner but not too late my friend
Evil forces satirise the devils work
Fight for *** , however low the demons swoop
Gold are his tools and you are living proof.
His Holy praises sing in your loudest voice.
Incorporated within your kindest thoughts
Job satisfaction leads you through the maze
Kindred spirits guiding hands along the way
Look often then within your beating heart
Mindful slay those dragons there to slay.
Not too late to kneel and contemplate.
Perverse and foolish ? No you will never stray.
Quickly learn from all mistakes you make
Reserve your strength to lead in the affray
Stand up this day and so be counted “IN”
To the noblest Army. The Poets unity.
Useless gibberish from Satan’s next of kin.
Vessels empty makes the loudest din.
What matters is that you’re the major source
Xanadu your goal , now you are poised to win
You are the vanguard of triumphant troops
Zoila’s failure to brow-beat any poetic force.
Written by Philip
December 4th 2018.

An A. to. Z. Of a Poets Army.
Baqir Talpur Nov 2018
What was our love,
If not just an other Shakespearean tragedy?
An other story of tragic heroes cursed by their fate,
Struggling to exist within their characters.
You, facing the external conflicts from family.
Me and my internal conflict
(of not being courageous enough).
Our tragic loss of our selves and each other,
Thanks to the diabolical supernatural elements,
Playing their own characters in the play.
The lack of poetic justice,
causing a poor end to the tragedy.
And in the end a comic relief,
through the humorous character of time it self.

Tell me again,
What was our love,
If not just an other Shakespearean tragedy?
Fear, Is a battle.
Fear is a Disease.
My disease.

Fear, puts me in places,
That I know I shouldn't be in.
Like I woke up in a dark attic, not knowing how I got there, or why.

See, it's not...things...I'm afraid of.
It's not people, or pain, or injury, or death.

Fear puts thoughts in you, that are totally and completely out of character, until they begin changing how you define yourself.

I am,
The fearful.
I am,
The untrusting.

Trust and fear come hand in hand, but purvey the opposite effects of one another.
Trust, puts fear to sleep. A silent, peaceful slumber. A place fear would rather be anyway. Trust allows you to see what is hopefully the truth in others. see. "Hopefully." There is that little seed of doubt.

Fear is the abusive sibling of the relationship. Always hanging over trust's shoulder, whispering worst-case scenarios in his ear.
In mine, it takes trust's confidence and gently, throws it into the nearest garbage can.

Trust is powerful.
But fear cuts deep.

When trust, faith, in someone is broken...
Well...we've all been there at some point.
When trust is broken, he half-heartedly stumbles to his bed, and stays there. Not asleep. Just, broken.

At this point fear doesn't have to do a thing.
Anytime you look inside yourself, since trust is gone, the only thing left is fear, just...sitting there.

Normally trust...gets up and brushes himself off to try again, especially with the help of friends.

But, in a few of us...

In a few of us, trust falls asleep, and disappears.
Hope, the half-sibling tries and tries to wake him up, to no avail.
Trust is gone.
Fear just sits there. Doing nothing, but doing everything.

Hope is a stubborn one, and pushes, and pushes, and pushes.
Sometimes it works.
Sometimes, it doesn't.

Fear. Trust.
They walk, hand in hand.
Toe, to toe.

I am,
The fearful.
I am,
The untrusting.

Hope, through valiant effort, keeps on trying.
Her energy is not limitless.

At times like these...
Hope, is not enough.

Trust has died.
The only way, to restore the balance,
Is for another's heart to come forth, and share their trust.

It's not fair, asking your trust to keep my fear in check, as well as yours, It just isn't.
At times like these,

I need the trust of someone,
Who is willing to share,
With one, who trusts no one.
I encourage this to provoke thought. Is there someone in your life that matches this story? Are you willing to share your trust?
Next page