"broadest" poems
The anonymous connection,
a sort of social disconnect.
A freedom of speech,
though not socially correct.
Able to find out
half the world across.
The broadest topics,
the tiniest loss
Images and moving pictures,
Different kinds of art.
Differing opinions,
pulling all apart
Learning all the facts,
the tiny and the small.
Putting it out there
visible to all.
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 7:22 PM UTC
What if grass is greener on the other side,
Because it’s always raining there,
Where the ones who never fail to give,
Hardly have enough to spare,
Where the people with the broadest smiles,
Have pillows filled with tears,
And the bravest ones you’ve ever known,
Are crippled by their fears,
It’s filled with lonely people,
But they’re never seen alone,
Where those that lack real shelter,
Make you feel the most at home,
Maybe their grass looks greener,
Because they’ve painted on its hue,
Just remember from the other side,
Your grass looks greener too.
~e.h.
Nov 16, 2017
Nov 16, 2017 at 1:17 AM UTC
People write such cliche poems.
True love that goes on for lifetimes.
A gray city in the rain, colored only by the music of life.
Hot coffee entrenching the soul with warmth in the crisp autumn.
The perfect snowflake landing on the nose of his winter angel.
The smell of northern pines after a heavy storm.
Her unparalleled footprints in the sand with each angelic step.
Tailgate stargazing on an ideal summer night, hands intertwined.
But isn't that what poetry is all about?
The most heartfelt descriptions about the broadest of beautiful moments?
~S.C. Kelley
Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 8:33 PM UTC
Of all my misnomers,
Mistooks of arrogance,
To think I could career careen
A life
in poetry,
Extra pressure of the
Broadest of a narrowing sujet,
the scripting of poesy
on the restricted topical
of only love poetry
Must have been punch love drunk,
When that notion crazy stung
My cerebal,
Gored discor-ed cortex,
Probably just another
Post a Loving,
dreaming scheming moment,
Or reading a Shakespeare sonnet,
Or
Midst the long lonely pauses
somewhere,
*(S)under the rainbow,
tween teener and geezer,
and
Everything in between*
made myself a poet of a restricted diet
not "eating " for days at a time
for love comes and goes,
frequent departures much more easygoing & common,
than regularly scheduled arrivals,
easy go, not so easy come,
what was I thinking of?
what a she-muk,
talking about cutting your nose off
to spite your face,
Jul 20, 2025
Jul 20, 2025 at 8:13 AM UTC
637
The Child’s faith is new—
Whole—like His Principle—
Wide—like the Sunrise
On fresh Eyes—
Never had a Doubt—
Laughs—at a Scruple—
Believes all sham
But Paradise—
Credits the World—
Deems His Dominion
Broadest of Sovereignties—
And Caesar—mean—
In the Comparison—
Baseless Emperor—
Ruler of Nought—
Yet swaying all—
Grown bye and bye
To hold mistaken
His pretty estimates
Of Prickly Things
He gains the skill
Sorrowful—as certain—
Men—to anticipate
Instead of Kings—
1.8k
1183
Step lightly on this narrow spot—
The broadest Land that grows
Is not so ample as the Breast
These Emerald Seams enclose.
Step lofty, for this name be told
As far as Cannon dwell
Or Flag subsist or Fame export
Her deathless Syllable.
1.7k
let me yoke to you.
twist mine into yours.
***** me in at the hips.
lift me into your if's
and have me, present.
our torquing bodies
charging each other,
holding back the
bloom of darkness.
yes, it is true:
we are
closest to the dark.
but we are also
sown to the broadest urge
that wrote us.
this ebb is lit with written poems,
receding into the lightness of dense being.
so,
jot me
into this
and i
will
exist in
your margins,
like nice little notes
that mean everything in the world.
Apr 23, 2016
Apr 23, 2016 at 4:49 PM UTC
I begin by sharing a quote
“I think that we are like stars. Something happens to burst us open; but when we burst open and think we are dying; we’re actually turning into a supernova. And then when we look at ourselves again, we see that we’re suddenly more beautiful than we ever were before.” ― C. JoyBell C.
They say that if you do what you love
You’ll never work a day in your life
It wasn’t until recently that I realized and felt what it really is that I love to do
What it really is that could maintain constant without growing increasingly melancholy over time
(Like most other things for me)
In the simplest of words
That quote is exactly what happened to me
I say "happened" as if it hasn’t happened again
But it has
Multiple times now
The first was the most invigorating
The broadest and most awakening
As the continuity of life and Dukkha occur
I find myself growing familiar with the course
Just like drugs
It gets less euphoric
Not as magical
But instead gets replaced with a deeper, clearer understanding of the experience and outcome
Something much more impactful and deeply rooted
It now alters my consciousness and awareness
Since the first time
I have felt an internal urge
To share my experience with anyone who’s willing to listen
Whether it be by prose
Or ******
It is mentally and spiritually rewarding
My goal has always been to be the burst to someone
The burst that opens them up and launches their soul into a metamorphosis where the outcome is them becoming a supernova
Just like I did
The idea of I vanishes when speaking/writing about the ecstasy and liberation I gain by sharing the experiences of my spiritual journey
And when I am able to witness my passion for telling so reaching and sinking into someone else’s mind
Feelings of exciting wholesomeness fill me
When I'm able to observe someone else’s awareness lift to their surface because of my words and energies
Exponential ecstasy hugs and diffuses into my soul
Using eloquence to uplift others is my gift from the Universe herself
It is my personal way of showing gratitude and love for Her
I realized that humans all connect and grow together when I felt the uplifting I had instilled in others reciprocated into me
I want to heal others
I want to guide them towards their own spiritual awareness
This universal love and compassion for life itself and everything in, around, and about it is far too majestic and vast to not share with the world
The intuition and urge is persistent
I am currently searching for the perfect environment for it to flourish within me
And when I do
The final Truth will emerge
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 7:56 PM UTC
.
I walked to the gate where the taxi was waiting
Checked in my pocket for change for the fare
Opened the door, saw the driver was laughing
Asked for the reason, would he like to share
He stared ahead, set the meter a' running
Took the first left thinking it would be right
Said not a word about my destination
Pressed on the gas and drove into the night
Traffic light art in the broadest of colors
Yellow and green, an occasional red
Speed limits tossed like a bag to the roadside
Wondering if it was something I said
Then down an alley so dark and deserted
Parking lot stripes in an orderly way
Nothing for miles or maybe forever
This is enough and I just had to say
"Where are we going, I've not that much money?"
Then with a twitch and the wink of an eye
I saw the driver reflect in the mirror
He was a her, I could not help but sigh
For there you were with a cap colored yellow
I saw your smile, my heart skipped a beat
That's when you stopped and the engine was halted
Came to my door and into the back seat
"Are you surprised," we're the words that you asked me
"More than you know," was my answer to you
We stayed a while and love was in blossom
Two in a taxi, what else could we do
Yes this is silly, my romantic poem
Life has been tough as I go on my own
Merely some words in a tough situation
Here on this night as I dream all alone
Sep 18, 2018
Sep 18, 2018 at 10:40 AM UTC
In the sheets of drizzle below the autumn cloud
eyes beaming with the glow of love
wave at the receding figure
to the farthest visibility.
The man leashed to the cubicle with the screen
would think of those faces
when the day is at its broadest invitation
and light like the luminous ether
fills every dark pocket of the land
listening to the rhyme of the clock
from his abyss of ratios and rates
while the vagabond clouds come together
and break apart in the game of revealing blue
painting new faces and waving hands
on the landscape of the gate
up to the farthest turn
in the sheets of drizzle
beneath the autumn clouds.
Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 8:40 AM UTC
I get nervous around you.
I feel my heart drop to my stomach.
Your smile warms my heart
And freezes time.
You have eyes like no other
They stare deep inside of me
They know my deepest secrets
And my most broadest details.
The way you look at me
Like you miss me
Like you hate me
Like youre unsure of what love really means
You can lie to yourself all you want
I'm still with you
The reminisce of me haunts you at night
You love me
But you have that macho man way of life
So you can't love me.
But you want to
I hope.
The way your lips move
Is like no other.
Its smooth like a hockey puck on ice
Its words travel like teenage kids trying to escape
Their lives.
Something I know you wanna do.
Everything you say,
Everything you do,
Leads me to believe
You just want to leave.
Dec 8, 2013
Dec 8, 2013 at 4:48 AM UTC
Two nights ago,
I discovered the definition
of summer.
Regardless of what
Merriam tells you,
it is not just "the warmer
half of the year."
In fact, summer lies
within the smallest details
of a perfect day
and the broadest spectrum
of all drunken nights.
It is the warm concrete
underneath your thighs
that burns at first but
"hey, you'll get used to it."
It is the cigarette carelessly
placed between your
cherry-red lips
and the way we sang as
loud as we could in
your driveway at
3-in-the-morning.
It is the restlessness
of being in one place for
too long mixed with the
comfort of somewhere you
know like the back of your hand.
It is our "couple minute long" talks
that turn into hours
and the epiphany I had when
I realized it's okay to be okay
but it's also okay to not be.
It is the moment I told you this
revelation of mine,
and how you smiled at me
like a 2-year-old and responded,
"this is why I love you."
Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 8:41 PM UTC
Fumbling words in the night sky,
Like thunder in the broadest storm.
So you will go down in historic mind,
As not very bright.
Though the stroke of lightning might be me,
You were like thunder above the trees,
Loud, assertive and absolute,
But never available to be seen.
I'm glad such sound was not for me,
And that you passed like a summers night.
Because I have no need for rumbling voice,
Or an ominous noise devoid of light.
Dec 18, 2016
Dec 18, 2016 at 7:25 PM UTC
Innocence lost
Laughter and play savaged by early death their mother only a framed picture
Her living breath once their perfumed fragrance of grace uncommon air
To this sweetest pair nothing else could compare this life so rare
Morning or evening they drew from this well golden droplets truest love they did spell
Oh grim reaper to all you pay a visit none are safe the smallest hearts easiest to break apart
With ease love’s formidable bastion you did breach unquenchable pain shown by your reach
Daughters four and eight now left dark eyed waifs no one to mend for them who will contend
Motherless thread bare without defense against the icy wind no hope can they find
Faces pale and blue stagger on be brave if I could only give to you what you crave
Swallowed by the black void left senseless no reference point in this seamless sea
Advice worthless only left to stare how can they comprehend a cold grave so bare
Beholding their faces you choke and sputter with worthless words you say be strong
Go in winter to the field and hill in broadest views witness nature subdued in darkest hues
The landscape stark and severe this your mirror from this grand picture your soul grows still
Mother nature God’s handy work from its source you will be lifted and given assurance
Truly the furrow of sorrow runs to unknown depths not so in the everlasting tomorrow
Today tears of silence does eloquently whisper tears to joy a mighty river roaring with mother united in laughter
Jan 7, 2012
Jan 7, 2012 at 2:32 PM UTC
Huevos Cabreaos
followed by an Americano,
taking respite from those morning Lowry figurines with their bon bon shopping priorities.
A Puerto Rican girl has just passed the La Tasca informal interview
and is immediately hugged by her awaiting friends,
life is so fast and we all think like wikipaedia, fragments of momentary knowledge ,
even the menu here has a photographic memory lock,
outside a Big Issue seller makes his first sale
the broadest Lancashire accent,
can soothe somebody's day,
here is the reality of listening too.
Dec 6, 2012
Dec 6, 2012 at 10:40 AM UTC
Lord, if you exist and have ears
(neither of which
proposition is entirely clear yet),
let’s make a deal.
(I know prayers ideally aren’t
supposed to involve bargaining,
but this is really a poem
so I’ve got some wiggle room to ******
Bring a little peace to these instruments
who call themselves your kids,
and I swear by all things you deem holy
(since you made everything,
I guess that’d be the whole shebang)
to give myself up to your wills and won’ts.
Of course you’ll have to clue me in
where there’s a Will,
(the won’ts are pretty well covered)
whether buried in endless musts
****** thus by musty books,
or hidden in plain-sighted laws
governing the broadest range of spirals
from when the first shoot knows
it’s time to poke its budding nose
above an earth that’s lost the frosty bite
to when our yellow dwarf explodes
and grows a giant with nebulous arms
stretching outward to catch its dying breath.
(I’d cast a vote for the latter,
but my still-small voice has long been
to the far reaches, outnumbered.)
Jan 23, 2011
Jan 23, 2011 at 8:05 AM UTC
You know how to say all the perfect
words in perfect order spoken with the
broadest of dialects
and just when to pause and ask
"does this hurt yet?"
Our time doesn't exist
and it probably never did
But I still brunt the words out
from in between my teeth
out of my coup de grace verbatim
and watch them sink at sea
I don't know that a noun exists in this language
and I know you would not waste a second
to translate it or to write me back
or talk me down
Jun 27, 2010
Jun 27, 2010 at 5:18 PM UTC
Nature, in the broadest sense, is the natural,
physical, material world, or universe;
Nature can refer to phenomena of the physical world,
also to life in general. The study of nature is a large,
if not the only, part of science. Although humans
are part of nature, human activity is often understood
as a separate category from other natural phenomena.
The word nature is derived from the Latin word natura,
or "essential qualities, innate disposition", & in ancient times,
literally meant "birth".
_Natura_ is a Latin translation
of the Greek word physis (φύσις), which originally
related to the intrinsic characteristics that plants,
animals & other features of the world develop
of their own accord. The concept of nature as a whole,
the physical universe, is one of several expansions
of the original notion; it began with certain core
applications of the word φύσις
by pre-Socratic philosophers,
& has steadily gained currency ever since;
This usage continued during the advent of
the modern scientific method in the last several centuries
Sep 1, 2018
Sep 1, 2018 at 5:07 PM UTC
its monotonous cycle a principle of existence
unaware, unforgiving and savage by nature
it does not care for the desires of mankind
its presence applauded, its absence a silent killer
antithetical yet necessary
objective in the broadest sense, it knows no judgement
mother of mother nature yet harbinger of finality
its nonchalant attitude incites disdain
and its aggressive demeanour only knows pain
forever practical, never an outsider
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 6:28 PM UTC
Sadists, aren’t we all… abusing that for which we fall…
The way that I’m obsessed… with the fabric of your dress
Although it doesn’t feel as good… as tender skin beneath it would
So it deserves the claws… and lacerated ribbons’ flow…
Of all the fingers, it’s the thumb… that sees the broadest, like the sun
Runs in circles on those knees… the sweet of you I love to read
Yet passion thrives on sacrifice… with aftermaths of melting ice
To treat the paintings on your skin… which lust, in trance, would blindly leave
Like every coin, there are two sides… and truth is tasting both in life…
The things that we adore… our hunger paints in gore
And now you’re in the palms… their lips brush off the calm…
The sinking of the teeth… the flavor underneath...
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 12:28 PM UTC
a common practice is subscribed to at the place
why on earth they do it defies one's mind space
over an extended period one has seen their escapade
which has the appearance of a staged parade
each person clocks in with something to show
then they'll remove it off the submission's row
how fascinating for one to amusingly sight
it'll happen both by morning and beneath lamp light
just a few minutes ago one saw this very thing
being openly displayed inside the writer's ring
a piece was put up for everyone's eyes to review
without any notice the work vanished from view
on not being able to find its new dwelling spot
one wondered about this their most interesting plot
a mere peek a boo is all they'll let you see
before they erase what was in their lines lee
you've got to be quick to read the material
if you are not you'll miss the fast paced serial
one knows the capers that they do imbibe in
that's why one watches with the broadest grin
Oct 15, 2016
Oct 15, 2016 at 11:41 PM UTC
#there isn't a time in life
when our smiles and cries
are not simultaneous
unless we are morons.
my broadest stretch of lips
stalk pains
*has my success made someone sad?
has it been at someone's cost?
has it eroded someone's happiness?*
and when I cry
as sufferer loser
in the corner of my eyes
shimmers a smile
*it's not the end
it's not the last mile.*#
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 10:24 AM UTC
life.
four
letters,
but an
awfully
big
word.
love.
even
bigger,
a word
both
gigantic
and
minute.
live.
being
the
biggest,
broadest,
open to
enterpretation.
but
still
a looming,
largeness
to
behold.
live,
love,
life.
together,
a
mantra
for
a way
to be
large
among
the
small.
tallest
of the
tall.
broad
and
encompassing,
of one
and all.
live,
love,
life,
we all
fall,
sprawl.
but
rise up.
stand
and
fall,
learn,
to
learn,
from
it all.
love,
life.
live,
life.
live,
love.
Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 9:07 AM UTC
Of all those in my life I have loved,
You shine brightest
You stole the most of my soul
With your most beautifully composed
Eyes that glittered, glinted,
As if the happiness inside you
The pure goodness that was you
Eked slowly out and diffused
Brilliant, lighting up the room and my world.
You changed me.
You took the most of me,
Because you were worth the most;
You left the biggest gap,
Because you were the broadest person.
What we had was a mystery
We were solving together;
But in the end, I was left with
Clues leading to nowhere.
It was a dead end street lined
In roses and tulips,
A beautiful walk into oblivion;
You were worth every step.
When I close my eyes
Sometimes I see you
Sometimes I dream of you,
And that makes me smile;
Because it means in some reality,
You and I are together; and you are happy.
Feb 1, 2013
Feb 1, 2013 at 8:33 AM UTC
Something acting on
our own behalf,
shows up during
the broadest of daylight...
and begins
cutting all the excess fat
till we may
stand comforted in skin.
Feb 9, 2015
Feb 9, 2015 at 1:08 AM UTC