Poetry Poems
We Refugees
by Benjamin Zephaniah
I come from a musical place
Where they shoot me for my song
And my brother has been tortured
By my brother in my land.
I come from a beautiful place
Where they hate my shade of skin
They don't like the way I pray
And they ban free poetry.
......
Dis Poetry
by Benjamin Zephaniah
Dis poetry is like a riddim dat drops
De tongue fires a riddim dat shoots like shots
Dis poetry is designed fe rantin
Dance hall style, big mouth chanting,
Dis poetry nar put yu to sleep
Preaching follow me
Like yu is blind sheep,
Dis poetry is not Party Political
Not designed fe dose who are critical.
Dis poetry is wid me when I gu to me bed
......
I Will Beguile Him With The Tongue
by Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
Reason says, “ I will beguile him with the tongue.”; Love says,
“Be silent. I will beguile him with the soul.”
The soul says to the heart, “Go, do not laugh at me and yourself.
What is there that is not his, that I may beguile him
thereby?”
He is not sorrowful and anxious and seeking oblivion that I
may beguile him with wine and a heavy measure.
The arrow of his glance needs not a bow that I should beguile
the shaft of his gaze with a bow.
He is not prisoner of the world, fettered to this world of earth,
......
Be Drunk
by Charles Baudelaire
You have to be always drunk. That's all there is to it--it's the
only way. So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks
your back and bends you to the earth, you have to be continually
drunk.
But on what?Wine, poetry or virtue, as you wish. But be
drunk.
And if sometimes, on the steps of a palace or the green grass of
a ditch, in the mournful solitude of your room, you wake again,
drunkenness already diminishing or gone, ask the wind, the wave,
the star, the bird, the clock, everything that is flying, everything
......
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:
......
Dusty Poet
by Ghairo Daniels
DUSTY POET
Dust before donkey doomed
a wicked whirlwind
grains of wisdom wrinkle
sand webs
dust devitalise land
here there everywhere nowhere
in eyes, on kitchen table
parched lips unfed
......
Simply Yeats
by Ghairo Daniels
SIMPLY YEATS
My verse under Yeats’ carved door
he merrily chuckled at white
envelope, sketched butterfly
said he preferred to receive
verses this way rather
than reading them across
post-modern websites
......
ear to Endymion
by Rikske Kessner
Oh, to remember such
unspoiled kinship with the divine,
where even the wind was a companion
and silence spoke in full sentences.
Perhaps this poem isn’t just
a backward glance but a gentle invitation—
to return, not in time, but in spirit,
to that meadow of soulfulness
where love was once our native tongue.
......
quiet apologies
by Rikske Kessner
Apologia in Free Verse (After Too Much Metre)
I meant to speak plainly. To let the thought go unbuttoned,
leaned against a kitchen chair, talking about traffic
or the way light hits the linoleum.
But then—I rhymed.
By accident or reflex or loneliness.
It was you that made me do it—
......
my poetic side
by Rikske Kessner
Words collect like morning dew on leaves—
offered, absorbed, refracted—
a quiet exchange in the rhythms of being.
Voices scatter across a vast terrain
gently meeting with fierce exclamations,
each one feeding, each one fed.
Community thrives beneath unseen threads
binding both fragile and the bold,
......
