"awakend" poems - Hello Poetry

Some mornings I wake up tired before the fire of the sun eats the mist covering the dust on the long road my feet travel each day wishing I was asleep still just like a snake in an old tire dreaming of young boys rolling me over and over down a steep hill again, forever and ever, amen.

0

Jun 27, 2017

Jun 27, 2017 at 7:32 AM UTC

r-2

A tired snake awakend from a dream

Some mornings I wake up tired before the fire of the sun eats the mist covering the dust on the long road my feet travel each day wishing I was asleep still just like a snake in an old tire dreaming of young boys rolling me over and over down a steep hill again, forever and ever, amen.

9

AWAKEND TODAY AT THE NEON DAWN TAKING MY FISHING POLE GOING DOWN TO THE LAKE I FEEL PROTECTED AS I REFLECT UPON EMPOWER YOURSELF WITH A FLOWER LOOK AT THE NEON DAWN VIEWS AND LIKES I'M LOOKING AT THE NEON DAWN I'M LOOKING AT THE NEON DAWN CAN YOU SEE IT'S A BRIGHT FLIGHT? WITH LOTS OF SUNLIGHT THIS TIME I SEE A NEON VIEW NO NEED TO UNDO DON'T GET TANGLED UP LOOK AT EVERY ANGLE OF THE NEON DAWN DON'T GET TANGLED UP DON'T GET TANGLED UP LOOK ATY EVERY ANGLE OF THE NEON DAWN EMPOWER YOURSELF WITH A FLOWER OPEN YOUR HEART SHOWER YOUR LIFE WITH LOVE IF YOU NEED HELP CALL ON GOD FROM ABOVE SHOWER YOUR LIFE WITH LOVE OH, OH SHOWER YOUR LIFE WITH LOVE IF YOU NEED HELP CALL ON GOD FROM ABOVE OH LOVE, OH LOVE,,, I FEEL PROTECTED AS I REFLECT, DON'T GET TANGLED LOOK AT EVERY ANGLE OF THE NEON DAWN

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Aug 23, 2018

Aug 23, 2018 at 9:01 AM UTC

cheryl-ann-warner

NEON DAWN

AWAKEND TODAY AT THE NEON DAWN TAKING MY FISHING POLE GOING DOWN TO THE LAKE I FEEL PROTECTED AS I REFLECT UPON EMPOWER YOURSELF WITH A FLOWER LOOK AT THE NEON DAWN VIEWS AND LIKES I'M LOOKING AT THE NEON DAWN I'M LOOKING AT THE NEON DAWN CAN YOU SEE IT'S A BRIGHT FLIGHT? WITH LOTS OF SUNLIGHT THIS TIME I SEE A NEON VIEW NO NEED TO UNDO DON'T GET TANGLED UP LOOK AT EVERY ANGLE OF THE NEON DAWN DON'T GET TANGLED UP DON'T GET TANGLED UP LOOK ATY EVERY ANGLE OF THE NEON DAWN EMPOWER YOURSELF WITH A FLOWER OPEN YOUR HEART SHOWER YOUR LIFE WITH LOVE IF YOU NEED HELP CALL ON GOD FROM ABOVE SHOWER YOUR LIFE WITH LOVE OH, OH SHOWER YOUR LIFE WITH LOVE IF YOU NEED HELP CALL ON GOD FROM ABOVE OH LOVE, OH LOVE,,, I FEEL PROTECTED AS I REFLECT, DON'T GET TANGLED LOOK AT EVERY ANGLE OF THE NEON DAWN

33

Past the Tempest, See not through; 'morrow defiles your view -- Naught is rage. See you the pain, the suffering, the rain What eludes is awake, awakend Land Land agraze, Land that cleanses -- cleanses the root of pain Strip thy trees of despise, thy Sycamores of ever growing wants. Take it away, afar from memory. Remaining is Love, Unity, Solidarity 'gainst the land, that land which gives you view, view past the Tempest.

0

Nov 23, 2018

Nov 23, 2018 at 12:21 PM UTC

Poet7642

Past the Tempest

Past the Tempest, See not through; 'morrow defiles your view -- Naught is rage. See you the pain, the suffering, the rain What eludes is awake, awakend Land Land agraze, Land that cleanses -- cleanses the root of pain Strip thy trees of despise, thy Sycamores of ever growing wants. Take it away, afar from memory. Remaining is Love, Unity, Solidarity 'gainst the land, that land which gives you view, view past the Tempest.

11

Started jolted jilted awake Alert and focused in the darkest grave Awoken awakend the Lazarus man Gasping for air Hourglass running low on sand

0

Feb 18, 2013

Feb 18, 2013 at 1:19 AM UTC

jacob-sykes

Untitled #6

Started jolted jilted awake Alert and focused in the darkest grave Awoken awakend the Lazarus man Gasping for air Hourglass running low on sand

5

Have I told you Its like I've had VanWinkle's disease , suddenly you' have awakend my mind I suddenly notice, this beatutiful woman where have I been, took me too long to find you've been standing, right here beside me must have been keeping, my head in the sand now all the momories are returning if I reach out, will you take my hand I can't understand, why I make it so hard I can't seem to say, the words that I feel the thought's been there, seems I hide my card you've been waiting for me to shut up and deal have I told you lately, how much I love you have I said to you, your still in my dream I'm a such a fool to have gambled you'd be here I have forgotten that we are a team Gomer LePoet...

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Jul 24, 2010

Jul 24, 2010 at 7:34 PM UTC

david-nelson

Have I told you

Have I told you Its like I've had VanWinkle's disease , suddenly you' have awakend my mind I suddenly notice, this beatutiful woman where have I been, took me too long to find you've been standing, right here beside me must have been keeping, my head in the sand now all the momories are returning if I reach out, will you take my hand I can't understand, why I make it so hard I can't seem to say, the words that I feel the thought's been there, seems I hide my card you've been waiting for me to shut up and deal have I told you lately, how much I love you have I said to you, your still in my dream I'm a such a fool to have gambled you'd be here I have forgotten that we are a team Gomer LePoet...

18

There was an old man, a collector of sorts Who made his living off of the dead Through the obituary page he'd earn his wage Buying things that others had shed Though some said his job was just morbid Preying off of the people who died It wasn't a natural death that took their last breath But only those committing suicide He bought the things that nobody wanted For most were scared of a haunting or curse But he didn't care he would always be there The same day that they emptied the hearse He was the only buyer at the auction For everyone else was afraid He just couldn't wait to steal their estate And count all the money he made 'Til late one night while sleeping Awakend by a bump in the night At the foot of his bed stood a multitude of dead As his heart stopped beating from fright The old man had turned up missing They found claw marks deep in his floor The people couldn't wait to pilage his estate For the old man wasn't seen anymore

0

Aug 11, 2010

Aug 11, 2010 at 1:35 PM UTC

larry-b

The Collector

There was an old man, a collector of sorts Who made his living off of the dead Through the obituary page he'd earn his wage Buying things that others had shed Though some said his job was just morbid Preying off of the people who died It wasn't a natural death that took their last breath But only those committing suicide He bought the things that nobody wanted For most were scared of a haunting or curse But he didn't care he would always be there The same day that they emptied the hearse He was the only buyer at the auction For everyone else was afraid He just couldn't wait to steal their estate And count all the money he made 'Til late one night while sleeping Awakend by a bump in the night At the foot of his bed stood a multitude of dead As his heart stopped beating from fright The old man had turned up missing They found claw marks deep in his floor The people couldn't wait to pilage his estate For the old man wasn't seen anymore

24

the fragile morning seeps her shadowing sunlight into my morning coffee cup, staining the walls of its home dark. i sip on her effortlessly, her warmth a flowing melody against the chaotic prance of my pulse. I close my eyes & let her wander.

0

Mar 2, 2019

Mar 2, 2019 at 10:15 AM UTC

svelte

awakend

the fragile morning seeps her shadowing sunlight into my morning coffee cup, staining the walls of its home dark. i sip on her effortlessly, her warmth a flowing melody against the chaotic prance of my pulse. I close my eyes & let her wander.

4

Silent screams, violent dreams, a place in the sand next to a quiet stream. Realise the tears that the mind can bring when life seems to fade away. Dark places, strange faces, death-stricken eyes long awakend. Who could ever stand a chance to fake it when living with a broken soul.

0

Nov 19, 2015

Nov 19, 2015 at 3:36 AM UTC

steele

Life Lost in a Shadow

Silent screams, violent dreams, a place in the sand next to a quiet stream. Realise the tears that the mind can bring when life seems to fade away. Dark places, strange faces, death-stricken eyes long awakend. Who could ever stand a chance to fake it when living with a broken soul.

12

love can be heartless and cold laying dormant until awakend from its own anxiety...

0

Nov 27, 2017

Nov 27, 2017 at 11:55 AM UTC

CLStewart

lcb

love can be heartless and cold laying dormant until awakend from its own anxiety...

1