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Simba Oct 2019
I believe in miracles. 
This is what I have to say.
He did roll that stone away.
Out the door came Daniel that day.
Not to Believe In His
mysterious ways!
It's like fishing in a Stream
without a hook.
No one knows you better
then He.
For in his eyes we are
an open book.
To hear what He
has to say!
We need to stop to listen.
That's all it takes.
For the man above he
sets the stakes!
For our success and our mistakes.
Not to be judged
by others.
That's for him
to do.
For when that time
for God to come.
To take home
Me and You.

Simba
Jaxey Jan 2019
some 
                                        things
in                                  
        
l i f e

are                         
                        easier
                                 ­                  to

u n d e r s t a n d

   
when
left                                          
                      
m i s u n d e r s t o o d
Try the understand the misunderstood
Nathalie Feb 2019
She looked at her words
as they spawned across
the pages...she knew that
the emotions that came
flooding through were
the ones that
contained the wisdom
of her heart...simple
seeds blossoming into
their own fruits,
producing lasting
results of everlasting
love...her faith was
strong and she stood
calmly in witness of
growing miracles,
the unfolding of
a birth; new awareness.

~Nathalie
Bryan Dahl Jan 2013
Some holding out their hope
Others giving up their dead,
Some believing miracles,
More prefering risk-free will.
Some expecting disappointment
Find regret instead,
Some wait for Luck's return
In broken pieces, still.
Some in line against the wall
Wait with vacant eyes,
Some with kids who won't shut up
Just look down and sigh,
Far too many end their days
The way we first arrive.
Dead hopes and broken miracles,
Our televisions thrive.
jeffrey conyers Aug 2019
Ron, Bobby and Warren, you get long in history.
But through words of various songs known.
Your image will forever be known.

Even Claudette seems to get mention more.
Then true to life, she was the subject of many songs.

From more love to my girl she forever will be known.
But the miracles stand out in all your songs.

Sure Smokey could have written them without you.
Except a group becomes known for the many things they do.
Daan Vandelay Dec 2019
I want to write my bicycle.
A cunning story
about the cycle
of a cory, curled boy meeting the world.
Oh, boy, is that already,
has someone made it yet?
******* and blimey,
what a slimey
way to say
everything's already done before.
Take your hat, wipe your
feet off on the mat,
you're coming and going
as you are, a snowing
miracle.
They're already done and also quite impossible.
So, brush off and walk on.
I have grown old,
My hairs are all white,
And my eye-sight is failing rapidly;
I no longer trust my body.
I am now left
With the strength of my mind
And the will-to-live
Which make me think and reflect
In my past experiences.
The intimacy with myself is rent
And I have never cared to inquire
About the kind of world hidden within me;
I have never thought
About my final moorings
And I have never been informed
About the sweet nectar of true happiness
Available everywhere.
I have tried to wander on my own
And refused miracles,
But where ever I go
I swiftly follow me
As if I exist yet do not exist,
To remind me that I am always alone.
Piyush Gahlot Jan 2019
Stressed ?, Tensed ?, Frustrated in a blow ?,
Go to desert, beach, hill or a mountain of snow,
Sure, plan a trip, better make it solo.
Be free, feel the thrill, fear, love as you go.
Travel to unknowns, meet strangers say hello.

Feeling hurt?,
Stretch a desert,
Feel the sand,
Slipping through your hand,
Realise everything isn't in your control
A camel safari make it a goal.
Experience the culture, mix with locals
to rediscover yourself.

Are you in pain?
Head to mountains,
Altitude will test you in every way,
Your petty issues will go stray,
Try trekking, feel the snow,
Chilly breeze upland it blow,
Challenge your limits.
Trivial issues but mighty mountains digits.

When in doubt,
A beach you scout,
Feel the tropical sun,
Respect the relentless sea overrun,
You surf, sail and try the ****** fun.

Go beyond, challenge your limits,
Experience the miracles of nature,
Subside your pain, let stress be a bygone,
Rediscover yourself in the far unknown.
Many of us are going through unimaginable hard times,
But ugly truth about life is, it goes on.
I see traveling and going to unknowns as a remedy to the pain and frustration. This way one can rediscover himself and find meaning to life.
Prashant Shaurya Apr 2019
~~~~~~~~~~~~~1~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The valiant king rode across
A perilous mountain pass, which
Led to a mystic who could
Dispel the chance of death at war.

He roved along the rough terrain
Through rows of shuddering pine
His journey had no sojourn till
He'd drink the elixir wine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~2~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sage lived in a far flung place
Amidst mountains old as time
In that ancient talismanic cave
He reached his spiritual prime.

No man had ever seen the sage
Yet stories had been told, of those
Who sipped that miracle wine
And rose above their woes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~3~~~~~~~~~~~~
The king kneeled down before the sage
To narrate his woes through prayer
Then said, pour thy mercy, my Lord,
For my nation's in despair.

The gory war's killed umpteen men
My army faces defeat
Bless and save my people, O Lord!
For the enemy won't retreat.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~4~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The sage looked at the distressed king
Whose heartbeats had sunken low
For only the saint's miracle
Could help him fight the foe.

The sage did cast a magic spell
Pressed the ruler's armour of steel
Then said go back and fight my king
Triumph, and help your nation heal.

Prashant Shaurya ©
All Rights Reserved
17-04-2019
Brendon S Sawyer Sep 2019
Oh, when she smiled at me,
in an instant, she changed my world;
And when she walked up to me,
the rhythm of my heart began to surge.

With each step, I became more and more intoxicated by her,
the deep blue of her eyes could quench my thirst on a Summer's day;
The warm softness of her lips became "comfort food" to my soul,
not even vinyl could capture nostalgia the way her voice could.

No "graceful" is as graceful as her,
she has leaped those bounds;
No "beautiful" is as beautiful as her,
floating on our sea of love, my heart is a boat that shan't run aground.

I can't believe how lucky I am to have our lives merge,
and I'll never regret the day that she became my world;
Oh, she's done something to my life,
I've see the road of happiness finally arrive.

She's the greatest thing I have,
She's the greatest thing I am;
I don't know how this all happened, when it wasn't in the plan,
if this love were of a mountain, oh, I'd climb to the highest land.

Sir, I stand before you today to express these feelings man-to-man,
I love your daughter with all that's in me; may I request to have her hand?
Prequel to my poem "From Us, This Seed"

Please go to my profile and read that one also.
Smoke Scribe Aug 2018
The Violent Storm by the Water
(Do You Trust Your Imagination)

was not unexpected
but its fury was without compare,
poet awake in semi-preparation

living by water should be a human right for all,
even a small room, overlooking, gives new meaning to
perspective

we blessed with a patio door, encased in a glass window big enough for a smallish elephant to come visit and play with children

a storm is observed up close and personal as if one was in
an IMAX 3D  theater, and the edges of existence were being redefined,
sharpened by fury, tooled by tools untouched by mortal hands

miles of bay illuminated with bass drum furious accompaniment

stand before the screen,
poets arms outstretched as a supplicant,
the light of the lightening passes through him,
yet , behind me, she still sleeps

then the entire house shakes, reverberates, as if to say:


”tremble humans, cower, you are not permitted to watch my majesty, for such it was when created heaven and earth”

bold poet window worshipping
risky answers:

“but who will know
if even a poet cannot declaim sights
no one else has seen?”

”true, true, but you must choose if poet truly,
do you trust your imagination human,
to prove that the powers of the heavens are limitless?”

write of storms unseen and nature endless miracles

”then you may call yourself
a miracle too,
a poet

violent #storm violentstorn
I came to liberate lions from dungeons
I came to share and not stare at you
I came to actualize powers within me
I intend to distribute resources equally
I came to reiterate that all beings are beautiful
I came to make an impact like mountains do
I came to create music with my attitude
I intend that symphonies surround me with their melodies
I intend that children feel safe to open up to me
I came to empower dancers in perpetual motion
I intend to be a witness to the miracles of life’s radiance
I came to scream love songs into forests
I came to hear my own voice echoed by hollow caverns
I intend to create portals that we can travel through
I came to bring back the aurora borealis at all latitudes
Juhlhaus Mar 2019
From where the bridge was, after the first plunge
Soothed the sunburnt skin and the hay-splinters
Loosed the straw stuck in ears
After I left you under the porch light
I stood alone on the other side of the night
Where poplars reached for the moon and stars
And the cows chewed on bits of memory from when
In the cobwebs and calf pens
They were brought to life by your gentle hands

You crossed two worlds to find me in the darkness
But I was not the one you were searching for
You prayed for miracles while
God stood by, arms crossed
Taking in the sunset and the clouds
Like an old tree beside a grave carefully fenced
To keep it disheveled amid tended fields
Thus the cancer had its way and I could not
Fill the void left in your heart or mine

With no more tears to soften dry leather
I put both our hearts on skewers and held them
Over the bridge's burning planks
Too close and they were immolated
Not carefully spun to stay golden and warm inside
So I packed my hollow heart full of nothing
Filled the passenger seat, until
There was only room for me and the steering wheel
And no way to turn
He creates miracles
And I don't know how to handle it.
I want to show him off,
But he is not mine to share.
A rare, crafted magic
Flows forth from his clever hands
Turning the world around him
Into banks to hold rivers of the stuff.
I am not the only one stymied and awed.
How then, am I alone,
With my strongly beating heart
Watching as he creates miracles?
5/15/18
Tyler Matthew Nov 2018
Bring me your problems,
put 'em in a basket.
I can answer your question
before you even ask it.
I can't walk on water,
I ain't from Galilee,
but baby, just have
a little faith in me.
Aspirations ,prayers,wishes and more,
When it is right ,it's definitely right!
The universe conspires to create miracles and one such miracle is you !

The smell of a familiar me ,connected with cords ,cut but uncut long after they are only to hold you in my arms now connected through heartbeats and love growing strong.

The tiny , soft fingers bound around tightly ,
The twinkle seen through half closed eyes.
Tender skin as soft as snow , whats
there to ask for more ?
A bundle of joy and happiness came fore !
So they say when the time is right , it of course is !

In my hearts core I knew long before,
God choose to give me the best .
Thee! extraordinary from the rest .
A tessellation of wishes came to surface in a matter of time and test .

Your addition to my life brought in a sense of peace ,pride and profoundness.
Rearing to take on the world gearing to accept responsibility.
Surviving every obstacle , a Lioness closely guards and protects her cub , to see him grow into thee "King of the Jungle "


©Mrunalini.D.Nimbalkar
This one was written for my son on one of his birthday !!
PC classic Sep 2016
Last nights bottle of whiskey
came
in a box
which was sliced to make an
ashtray

It stands by the bed catching dust
and
hoping to catch some dreams
as well
if they ever arrived

This night

You toss and turn
like an egg
on a stubborn pan

You are
wondering
what would happen
if you died right now

You will never know
what happens at the end
of that TV series
where they **** anyone
and everyone

You reminisce
of defeat and miracles
of crossed legs in short pants
and
how the charm
of a woman
gone
can keep a man wondering for a
life time

The cars motion past the window
echoing
outrageous
freedom

the moon is a snail in the sky
ogdiddynash Oct 2014
~
touch~teach her eyelashes
with my index finger,
her toes ask why
they must, no choice,
curl,
my heart answers,
one, one, one

~~

The truths that sway
within my hands,
my body follows,
am music borne,
we each of us
sway differently,
because my hand traces,
my beloved's waist,
soon enough,
never soon enough,
we are
two, two, two

~~~

no no not religious,
but miracles observed
quite regular

two becomes one,
emerald melded,
a yellow blonde, how extraordinary,
his blue eyes, lately
gray flecked,
blue and yellow
combined make
emerald melded,
thus two becomes one,
one becomes
a recombinant color,
and new is now
three, three, three

three that rhymes
not with me,
or her,
but the three that rhymes
with me and thee
which makes
we,*
three, three, three, thee
for life
Oct 18 2014
guy scutellaro Jul 2016
run the halfway house.
the winos will be showered,
fed,
and then led
back
into infinite night.
they talk quietly to one another,
waiting,
and by the time
I have finished my 3rd cup of coffee
some of them are in the park
drunk already...

...eyes burning like a locomotives furnace,
eyes flutter,
a half spin,
the man kneels and then falls.
others just stand
and stare
as if already under the mortician's
knowing smile.

and yet,
some will rise
from bright mists at dawn,
cherubic and dew covered
survivors of the night's storm.
grim miracles
who will share a bottle with a friend
and then laugh
at the kindness of good men.

between the burning furnace and
the chill of the night
hungry strangers are waiting.

a new day begins.
all is quiet.
DivineDao Apr 2016
~~
Music
Doesn't play for us
Tonight.

We love
The moments of silence
While~ well ~we are shy
Poets,

Running dry on ink we
See miracles.

Then we type
Because we have to
Touch the effulgent glowy draft ~then
Post!

Once you cut
Particularities,

Trembling about how the poem is received
One love might not recognize

The poet
At first.

When it opens up
The poem

One more time~Only then

The melody
Starts to laugh in a sweet relief
And winks beautifully
With understanding

Then ~ the luminaries have to sigh ~ for a moment
Breathe deep again, aglow and resplendant
In all their eternall
Beauty

And trickle a honey-brewed teardrop or two,
Down their luminous
Cheeks

Where the Moon starts to play on the
lute of words

There the Sun encourages tamboura
To move the soul-bodies

And invites all poets
To embrace

~ The most important ~
~ The essence ~

of

~    This Love   ~
. . ....Unending.... . .
Mellow waves Aug 2018
Miracles do happen everyday...
Every moment, every breath you take,
Is truly a miracle

In the same hospital,
The exact moment you hear the heart rate monitor giving its final beeps on the first floor,
You hear the shrieking of a new born on the fourth floor,

The sadness and grief on one family’s face,
Hope and delight on the other’s,
Prove that life and death are truly intertwined,

They are a cycle,
They complete each other
It’s really a miracle.

A miracle visible to the naked eye,
A miracle that makes life worthwhile.
Saumya Jul 2018
If I ever happen to meet myself,
I'd sit graciously on silence's table,
And study my evolved, yet un-evolved self,
Undisturbed, unhurried, un-agitated,
By world's brightest gulf.
...and smile back, as I watch myself.


If I ever happen to meet myself,
I'd sit cozily on peace's table,
And watch my wounded, yet un-wounded self,
Un-agitated, un-deviated, unmoved,
By world's sorry self
...and smile back, as I watch myself.

If I ever happen to meet myself,
I'd sit calmly on agony's table,
And observe my painful, yet not too painful self,
Unmoved, undaunted, unleashed,
By world's weirdest self,
...and smile back, as I watch myself.

If I ever happen to meet myself,
I'd sit gladly on glee's table,
With my eyes smiling, and smiling at myself,
Unaffected, unguarded, unremitted,
By world's unrequited self.
...and grin back, at myself.

If I ever happen to meet myself,
Twill indeed be a blessed, contending  miracle,
As that's when I could pat & greet myself,
In real, In real, In real!
And make this fact to myself perceivable,
That Our world may sure often demand struggles,
And our mere existence in it,
May just be negligible,
But we never gotta forget
To stay hopeful, smile and giggle at ourselves,
No matter how hard,
or harder are the struggles,
As that's the precious fuel,
That can truly cause miracles,
In a world,
Often so obsessed with struggles!

And then with a grin,
A sparkling hope within,
I'll bid myself,
A sweet, serene,
farewell.
Just a thought :)
All your feedbacks are most welcome :)
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