Tag Archives: love
Don’t try to live forever
Just try to live for now.
Life without death
Is not really living.
There is an interesting dynamic
Between life and death.
There is an interesting dynamic
Between love and sex.
You can’t find love in a hole.
But you can find love in
Warm places
In friendly faces.
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You’re not above me
you just nudge me
in the direction you think I ought to go.
You don’t know me
so don’t show me
that you think you know more than He.
No one knows more
than the divine one,
(but maybe the divine one’s son)
bar none.
Just cause a guy
with a big old hat
gave you a pat on the back
and said you could be a priest
till you get fat
doesn’t mean you can tell me
gay people are whack
what kind of love is that?
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Swallowing sadness
I sit in fear
of losing someone i love, so dear
think to the good times we’ve had in the past,
wishing it didn’t go by so fast
is there any way to make this last?
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Why can’t this be a happy trip?
go ahead tuck in that pouty lip.
Sure this is the time to say goodbye,
but everyone knows all things must die.
It’s just a matter of where and when,
so here’s to you my unbelievable friend.
Just know that my love (and appreciation) will never end.
And maybe, someday we’ll meet again.
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If I was successful would you put your arms around me
And remember the ways in which I’d changed your life?
Or would my success intimidate you?
Make you less likely to change the world?
Success will not ensure that you influence hearts
Nor guarantee you feel any more loved
The surprise truth is: to love equals success
If you can accept who you are,
Whilst seeking to grow each day
And love others as their need is.
Then you have real success
You don’t need to be successful to have love
But you do need to love to be successful
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4 Comments | tags: accept, change, day, feel, grow, hearts, life, love, loved, me, original poetry, originalpoetry.org, Poem, poems, poetry, rachel forster, success, truth, world | posted in Uncategorized
the boy went out
to find his home
the dog set out
to find his bones
mother wept
for just awhile
father came home
passed out on the floor
slept in his clothes
he was gone before morn
a favorite place of mine
was always under the covers
i feel so safe
from outside bothers
i clench my eyes closed shut
in hopes that when i open them
love will be there
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3 Comments | tags: a, bones, bothers, boy, clothes, covers, dog, eyes, father, favorite, favorite place, floor, home, hopes, love, mine, morn, mother, of, open, originalpoetry.org, out, place, poetry, safe, shut | posted in Uncategorized
God
What is God
Is God enough to save a soul
Damned to hell
Is God love
Is God the night sky
Or the dull light of dawn
As days go past
And time grows old
Does God sit upon a golden throne
Is God for everyone
Is God for me
I don’t think so
So don’t try to make me believe
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On Christmas Eve when eyelids sink and Head does Nod, I look out my window to Behold my God, On quiet Night, beneath Perfect Sky, Is time to remember Those who cry, And send out a Prayer for those Victims of Injustice and what is not ‘Fair’, those without a family With which this Night to Share, Let them know they are not Forgotten On Eve of Day ere Christ’s begotten. Those who suffer Mental illness or battle the demons of addiction and those infirmed with physical ailment or affliction give tender love and care and do not let their hearts despair, and to those who live where danger Fear and Violence reign, ease their sorrows, Woes and pain, this Christmas Eve remember those who had to leave and go up to that quiet sky, rejoice in those who live in memory of those who die, and let those who are Invisible be seen, to highest thrones lift them from shameful slums unclean, As I drift off to sleep, these secret hopes my Heart will keep this Christmas Eve I pray, let all the World behold
A glorious Christmas Day
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why does the songbird sing?
it sings for love.
it sings for peace.
it sings for hope.
why does the song bird weep?
it weeps for hate.
it weeps for viloence.
it weeps for judgment.
why does the songbird fly away?
it flies away because you make the songbird weep.
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The man killed his only love
the only thing more beautiful than a blossoming foxglove
with one swift move he sent her away
and began a period of slow decay
and that was the end of his ladylove
who flew away gracefully like a dove
You don’t know what you got
until it’s gone
now with nothing left over which to fawn
it was hard for him to carry on
a love once lost
is hard to again find
you must hold tight
to what you deem devine
for in an instant it may be lost forever
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This is how I felt at a time in my life
A time ridden with fear, sadness and strife
But if you look for love
and you seek it now
this life becomes a bit easier somehow.
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