alexis Mar 2015
Representative of the Ocean;
The under side of galaxies -
depths that man will never come to know,
But will foolishly never cease to search to for.
The tips of waves
Caressing the shore line to meet man once again,
Though it draws its feeble hand back often.
The color blue is
The moment after grieving,
The emptying of great seas.
Temporary peace.
idk what this is
Kody dibble Mar 2015
Time is whatever you manage to make,
Day in day out, we learn from that which takes it,

To silence the fears that make us,
Feel the hatred that takes us,

Continue, in vain,
Like gestures and coins,
Tossed in the great beyond,

Dimes and platelets of greener days,
Rendered the vision of maximum guilt,
Fortrusions for gone the desert a piece
Peace
Her image is so seductive
That it's painful
Men have walked away
From Militias and Terrorist Organizations
Just because of Her.
Sarah Oct 2014
Justice is not equality
Freedom is not fairness

It’s better to admit you don’t understand
than to torture the hopeless

Waiting for peace on earth,
you dare to hold your breath

So I’ll let you suffocate;
We are equal in death
C Davis Jul 2014
The lotus wades

     Shallow water

          Even and calm.

Her petals brighten

     In the beating sun's rays,

Glowing of tranquility.

          The onlooker grows jealous

     Venom green with envy

While the lotus rests,

          Mockingly green leaves.
[written 1/23/08]
ellie Dec 2014
Nan,
I wrote this poem for you to keep
As you lie peacefully asleep
To share the stories you once told
Sat in your chair growing peacefully old

I will always remember those days
When I sat up to the table studying the maze
Of thousands of puzzle pieces in my gaze
However I was never fazed
Because you were always there to guide the way.

I will always remember your trips out and about
Although never adventurous I felt,
McDonald's and M&s; without doubt,
Were you favourite places to walkabout

I will always remember your creative flare,
Your knitting needles and you cross-stitch squares,
how you could sit and chat, yet knit with care
Always seemed so unfair  

But most of all, I wrote this poem to say thankyou
Not just from me but from all the family too
For the wisdom and knowledge you once shared
For showing you loved us and that you cared

I wrote this poem to say goodbye
As you watch us from up high
I remember all the fun times we had
As my friend and as my Nan
And I miss you more than words can say

I hope we can meet again someday
Taylor McDonnell Apr 2014
Rastafarians
Take a toke, forget your pain
Let peace flow through you
Nicole May 2015
Inside the lonely poet is a soul that cannot show the war it fights for inner peace.
© Nicole A
thecitylife Nov 2014
talking, laughter
that's what i'm after
that carefree joy
i wonder how people get it
is it something you see?
is it something you know?
it seems like it's hiding from me
the happiness and joy
i see all around me
can't possibly be hiding from me
because i want it the most
i pray for this
i pray for that peace
peace of knowing somebody's there
and that no one's forgotten me
but it seems I'm always that one
the one left behind
i'm always the shadow
in the eyes of sunshine
martin murray May 2014
Let's Sit Down And Have Tea On A Massif
Let's Revitalise Around Some Herbal Leaf
Find A Nice Spot In Hampstead Heath
Recite Words Of Joy Under A Sheath
Strange things we write, meaning i don't normally drink tea. in fact its been a while since my last cuppa. :)
Nanna Harrow Jun 2014
Dancing,
Thrashing,
Cascading

Down the barren stone tower,
Through the craggy, coarse cliffs
Refining, polishing the necessary features
And streaming for the duration of my adventure,
One might wonder: Why?

Why! Oh what a question—
To purify what will soon be soiled in a moment’s time,
And yet, unremittingly,
Over, ad nauseam, again.

I cannot die.
No agony or desolation can destroy me.
Amaranthine, ceaseless, everlasting!
I hold steadfast, staunch, unrelenting.

I am a waterfall.
Nought can destroy me.
I am forever...
IF Michael, leader of God's host
When Heaven and Hell are met,
Looked down on you from Heaven's door-post
He would his deeds forget.
Brooding no more upon God's wars
In his divine homestead,
He would go weave out of the stars
A chaplet for your head.
And all folk seeing him bow down,
And white stars tell your praise,
Would come at last to God's great town,
Led on by gentle ways;
And God would bid His warfare cease,
Saying all things were well;
And softly make a rosy peace,
A peace of Heaven with Hell.
My country is an old book with a crumbly, dusty cover;
original and valuable
Like a book, you don't judge it by its cover.
What's inside it is what defines it.
Gently open it;
Read each word with heart,
Uncover its uniqueness
till it brings delight.
Find the book enjoying,
You'll never wish for it to end.
You'll read it one more time,
You'll show loftiness to it.
Oh, fellowmen, we're proud of our country
Even if we're not;
Our mouths say we are, but our hearts deny.
Oh beloved country,
We discerned ourselves
through judging you
because of our own fault.

**© Frank Lloyd Manalang, 2014
A poem written by my best friend, Frank
About nationalistic spirit
Next page