poems about life

The Cruel Raven | Megan Ryan - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

The Cruel Raven | Megan Ryan

Decrepit soul how blind are thee
To see the world so cold and cruel
From the blood shed of lost lives
Like crushed cocoons of butterflies
Not given the chance to take flight.
You judge so quickly
Of what you can’t understand
Than given the chance
To see through the mask.
Why must you be cold
To judge things before hand
Than learning their secrets
Seeing no rainbow in the sky
After a rainy storm by day.
Why can’t you accept
Things as they are
Let the cocoons grow
So butterflies can flee
From the silky prisons
That held them back.
You the raven
Talons that slice
Butterflies of life
Hope and dreams flee.
The more cruel and heartless
Lesser are the butterflies
Whose only dream is to flee
To go off to live their lives.
As the remaining butterflies
Fly off to distant lands
You sit on your branch
Not willing to take the chance.
Foolish raven are you not,
You are missing quite a lot,
Not willing to take risks
There you perch upon the sticks.

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The Girl with Fear | Keith Russell - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

The Girl with Fear | Keith Russell

She was always living the life of horror and fear,
In this world she was living in, nothing about her seemed too clear.
Everything she came across in her life, she was petrified,
She believed in God but always thought in her heart the devil was
alive.
She was scared to kiss, hug, scared to touch,
Scared of sex because love is a lie and the pain is too much.
She was scared to open those beautiful eyes and see,
Scared she might see something gruesome, including me.
Scared to be happy so she would always be in an indecisive mood,
Scared about gaining weight so she wouldn’t eat any food.
Never had goals and dreams to spread her wings and fly,
Always hated her life and even tho she never understand it she still
was afraid to die.
She never liked being by herself so she was always afraid of being
alone,
But she never gave a dude a chance because she was scared they would
leave her on her own.
Scared of getting old because her beauty might fade away,
Scared of keeping friends because she can’t trust anybody and they might
just turn on her one day.
We all are human beings and we all are afraid of something here,
But this is a girl who has always lived a life of fear.

You, Life & Mistakes | Felix Lugo - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

You, Life & Mistakes | Felix Lugo

You will grow but only you will know for how long.
Friends will come but many will go.
Family will stay but some will leave you too.
Relationships will be built but many will hurt you.
Success will show but not always before or after you fail first.
You will gain it all but you will lose it all too.
Love will come but will betray you because you won’t know any better
first time around.
Mistakes will take place and you will be wiping tears off your face.
The bathroom will be the safest place you can be yourself. As you look
at the mirror and go through many thoughts.
You will fall and feel alone in the dark.
Influential things will take its course but ultimately its up to you
to be the victim or the one who avoids it all.
Fights will come but not all punches must land on your face.
The beauty of fights you don’t always have to run but stand tall and
walk away.
There will be tests brought to your attention but you don’t always
have to pass them.
Learn from mistakes and don’t recreate them.
You start your education after graduation. Never let anyone tell you
any different.
Teachers will teach but you will only remember the educators. Listen
to them.
Secrets will be shared but you don’t always have to pass it along or
hear them.
Sometimes things are better said and also not said at all.
I know you will get confused and not everything must make sense to
you.
Not all you will go through must have an answer.
Understanding is key but you create the lock to the door you are
trying to open to life.
You will try and fail. You will try and fail.
You will try until you realize that trying is better than failing.
Life is precious don’t end it right away.
Speak to someone.
Listen to what others before your time have to say.
Stress will occur.
Solutions will come.
Conflicts will surface.
Circumstances will dominate.
Take a step back.
Breathe and rejuvenate.
Live life not like is your last day but like you just started life
today.

I Am Me VII | Ajise Vincent - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

I Am Me VII | Ajise Vincent

I am a sailor
oaring through life’s
odyssey.
I paddle a meandrous destiny
a tempest of despondency
has been my confidant,
wheedling my esteem to
salivate for death.
yet I am undeterred
I may feel seasick, today,
mourning flashbacks of
drowned dreams
but tomorrow
I will drink
pints of rum in remembrance
at Manhattan
—–
Ajise Vincent is a Nigerian Poet who derives utility from the smell of coffee, the erraticism of nature, and the dynamism of solitude. His works have been published in Eureka, Sychronized Chaos, Harbinger Asylum and various literary outlets.

A Widow and Her Pekingese | Donal Mahoney - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

A Widow and Her Pekingese | Donal Mahoney

Summer evenings
after the news at 6 p.m.
the Widow Murphy comes out
of her tiny bungalow and sits
on her front porch swing
with her ancient Pekingese
yapping mournfully in her lap.
She waves to certain people,
just a few, while ignoring most
although she knows every neighbor
after her long reign on the porch
as the queen of our block.
We live next door but she never
waves to us or says hello to me
not even back when I was 10
and offered to mow her lawn free
for nothing, as I used to put it.
She simply looked away and let
the Pekingese yap her answer.
My father told me then not to worry
about the Widow Murphy’s ways.
Her husband died in Korea, he said.
They never found her son in Viet Nam
and she had a daughter doing life
for murdering a man the jury must
have known had beaten her for years.
The man was her husband and a cop.
Later in my teens my mother said
the Widow Murphy had every right
to be a private person and live out
the remnant of her life as she saw fit.
But when I was 10 cutting our grass,
I thought she was a ventriloquist
and the Pekingese her dummy
yapping for all the world to hear:
Life isn’t fair, isn’t fair, isn’t fair.

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