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Donald Trump Poems

by Michael R. Burch

There are poems for Donald Trump and poems inspired by Donald Trump.

Toupée or Not Toupée, That is the Question
by Michael R. Burch

There once was a brash billionaire
who couldn't afford decent hair.
Vexed voters agreed:

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The Poem of a Living

by Gulhaider Zaidi

They say, poetry makes you imaginary
Far lost in words... disconnected
When they themselves began their lives
Singing rhymes, poems... twinkle twinkle li'l star
Sleeping to their gran's lullabies
Frolickin' in the farms...to the poetry of tall grasses
Dreaming of nature's poems...its soul rests within you
Growin' up with your beloved alongside
Writing letters to your love... replete with poetry so melancholy...
When thy love jilts you...you weave a song

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Poetry Is Hot, Alive And Well

by Hébert Logerie

Poetry is not dead
Poetry will never die
Poets do not lie
Poetry is naturally well-fed
With vibrant poems every second
Of the day to make the soil more fecund
The brain is alert and strong
Nothing can possibly go wrong
Poetry is ubiquitous
Poetry is sexy and serendipitous

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So Who Is Christen Kuikoua

by Christen Kuikoua

In the quiet quest of self, a name unfolds,
Christen Kuikoua, a story yet to be told.
Not just a random soul or a fleeting dream,
But a being with purpose, a soul in the stream.

Through days and nights, in life's winding thread,
In the valley's shadow, where mysteries are bred.
Asking, "Who am I, and how did I come to be?"
A pondering heart, longing for clarity.

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A Song Of Gratitude

by Christen Kuikoua

In the tapestry of time, where friendships bloom,
Mes amis, like petals, dispelling life's gloom.
Brothers, firm anchors in the sea of existence,
Une soeur agaçante, a tempest, a relentless insistence.

Parents, the roots, firmly grounding my being,
Leaves of wisdom, in the breeze, foreseeing.
Enemies, shadows that dance in the moonlit night,
Igniting the fire, propelling toward the light.

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Recent Poems Poems

The Weight Of A Thousand Suns

by Kevin Junior Ojang Ojong

Laying awake in the early hours of the morning and I can’t help but wonder of things I know to be true and right and good. Or do I really know? Cogito, ergo sum _ I think, therefore I am, or so it goes.

For when my thoughts wake in the place where dreams and sleep collide, my questions are eternal and the void never-ending. Yes, I would give my right eye like the All-father to drink from wisdom’s well.

I think about time and chaos and existence and I have more questions and no answers.

For did time exist before the word itself or was it born from chaos as it is said all things were.

Every star we see in the night sky is centuries old, it’s light just a ghost of a flame that burnt hundreds of years ago.

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through the eyes of a stranger

by Rikske Kessner

Through the eyes of a stranger,
I walk the crowded streets,
My thoughts hidden behind
A façade of indifference.
Always writing under breath
Each step the rhythm of a song

I listen for the murmurs,
The stories left half-told,
And with borrowed breath,

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The Composition of Shadows (I & II)

by Michael R. Burch

These are poems about poetry, poems about writing, poems about the process of composition...

The Composition of Shadows (I)
by Michael R. Burch

“I made it out of a mouthful of air.”—W. B. Yeats

We breathe and so we write; the night

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Poets & Words

by Saleh Ben Saleh

No words shall please my soul,
if not from deep within.
In life we laugh and weep,
as moods with time do spin.
Even a poet does need a flare,
to devise his ringy rhymes.
To sculpt a verse from solid words,
is a masters work, sublime.

When fine words mingle and mix,

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Obsessed with words

by Saleh Ben Saleh

I have dreams on moonless nights,
when violet the skies
with dark complexion.
In some speech,
my words may rhyme,
in lucid dreams I have seen their reflection.
Verses do visit in my sleep,
senseless they are or in forms of perfection.

Just like monuments of saints or priests,

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