#Rhyming Poems

[bratpoet]

The Weeping Cherry Blossom.

You are the cherry blossom tree,

a white cherry blossom tree

a weeping blossom

you are fed by the sun,

just as you are fed by the clouds and their rain

but with too much sun,

you ache for the storm

regardless of the potential for pain

your branches bend low

barricading your body

with pretty pale petals

presenting a copy

you are the stallion

far out on the field

with a kick that kills

and a soul that wont yield

strong is the back

of the horse filled with pride

you beckon and bait battle

with each hefty stride

portraying yourself

like; your hearts on your sleave

as your body pulsates

and muscles all weave

a horse with no tree is a horse with no home

a tree with no horse resides there alone

the horse cannot eat of the poisonous flower

as to taste the truth

is to taste loss of power

the horse does not care for the delicate blossom

though the tree creates air for its lungs to get lost in

but the tree has no eyes

with no sight it cant see

that the horse that it dotes on

is worse off than thee

is but a self made creation

of what the tree lacks

a creation with legs

one that battles the axe

the axe being agony, desolation, distress

something the blossom alone cant repress

you start as a sprout along side a foal

and to protect your limp branches

you maim and you maul

but now you are big

you will out grow your stallion

let loose limerence of legs

learn to love the dirt

that surrounds them.

Bratpoet.

28/06/24

[kairos-thehumanpoet]

("Are You The Devil?")

"are you the devil?"

i am more

of a puppet,

posessed and on strings,

made of drugs and addiction,

and so many nice things.

he takes over when

i feel at my lowest,

makes me do bad things

when i know that i shouldn't.

so listen, kiddies, when parents say

"don't do that!"

"you'll struggle you're whole life

if you go down that path!"

~kairos 💛

[dj1981]

I wrote this poem about how it was love at first sight when I met my wife almost 20 years ago. We have been married almost 18 years now. We have been through a lot together, but our love remains even after all those years! Here is my poem, Enjoy!

Title: Eternal Love's First Glimpse

In a world where time stood still, Where destiny wove its tender will, I gazed upon a wondrous sight, A vision bathed in golden light. Her eyes, like sapphire pools, so deep, Drew me in, made my heart skip a beat. Blonde locks cascaded, a radiant crown, Her beauty surpassed all I had known. She possessed a figure, heavenly blessed, Curves that enticed, left me breathless. And oh, that smile, a celestial ray, Melting doubts, chasing shadows away. A flirtatious charm danced in her gaze, A playful spirit set my heart ablaze. Her Giggles and laughter filled the air, Her energy infectious, beyond compare. She was a goddess, my heart's decree,In her presence, I felt joyfully free. Every facet, every glimpse, perfection defined, A love so immense, it transcended time. If I could relive those early days, A single day, in love's sweet haze, I'd seize the chance with a beating heart, To bask in love's glow from the very start. For even after the first date's embrace, It felt like we'd known each other for days. Amidst skepticism, doubts others had sown, We proved them wrong, our love had grown. Differences whispered by naysayers' tongues, But love's power silenced their misguided runs. Nearly eighteen years of marriage, hand in hand we've walked, Together, forging a bond that can't be blocked. From that very first moment, I knew it was true, A love that would last, forever me and you. Through highs and lows, trials that came our way, Our love endured, growing stronger each day. So let them marvel at our enduring flame, As we dance through life, united in name. For love's first glimpse, a gift divine, A lifetime of devotion, yours and mine.

[murasaki-sama]

i need one (1) friend who has a hobby of memorized poems from like the 1800s and the 1900s. because i need someone to talk to about this hobby. memorizing them on my own is fun, but having someone to shares this fun would be so great. any takers???

please reblog to spread this far and wide and help me find this person

[buglarvainspector]

Last lessons of the dance instructor

1.

Head up, dears, the art is finding

art for art's sake 'mid the binding

tempo, tempo, all unwinding,

while you dance. Revolt, and fly.

Capture movement, Earth has tied you

to itself. Head up! Decide you

will not heed tunes that misguide you.

Let your motions tell you why.

Earth desires you. Find the sky.

2.

Back straight, now. Be queenly, kingly.

Though strength may be weakening we

cannot break, for menacingly

time devours you, if you yield.

Find the tempo, tempo folding,

pleasure those who are beholding.

Gravity is always scolding,

beauty, then, must be your shield -

center stage, your battlefield.

3.

Eyes inward - disregard the staring,

longing eyes, the soft despairing.

It is discipline's red herring,

ammunition made of pride.

Tempo, tempo, mem'ry beats it -

only giving in defeats it.

Lessons fade, but life repeats it:

find the music trapped inside.

Dance to love, to fly, to hide.

©2013 Sara Taylor

[yesterdaysprint]

The Atlanta Constitution, Georgia, March 4, 1936

[panthermouthh]

And I said, “Hello, Satan

I believe it’s time to go.”

[welcomehome-orlakbarnett]

Love Enduring

What is grief but love enduring

I loved you with my whole being

And still my heart you are stirring

Though now you are beyond seeing

No longer can I wrap you up

In a tender and warm embrace

Or break bread together and sup

With your bright smile on your face

I cannot kiss your rosy cheeks

Or see your eyes crinkle in glee

My empty hand for yours does seek

So my gloomiest thoughts will flee

Memories of you I have carved

Into my heart on sacred stone

But my soul is fed and not starved

Because my love is like seeds sown

My tears water the wound that holds

The vestiges of you in me

Safely in my love I enfold

My eternal symbol to thee

My grief for you will never cease

But neither will my steadfast love

Your memory will bring me peace

You nest in my heart like a dove

[literallyjusttoa]

"A Jester can mock, and the King cannot fight

For the gift of free thought is the jester's one right."

A sweet golden prince who lived up in the sky,

Listened to his families' terrible fights,

The ceiling would rumble, the tile would shake,

The throne room was fragile, and soon it would break.

He'd attempt to speak, but it never went right,

His father would rage, and he'd lose every fight,

As decades passed by, it soon became clear,

The King saw his son as a monster to fear.

The Prince quickly followed every command,

Only to be trapped by his father's cruel hand,

Years of destruction with no end in sight,

This war would not end with a large act of might.

And so the Prince stopped fighting fire with fire,

And instead he pulled out his golden stringed lyre,

Since he had no respect, he would leave the King's cage,

And swap out the throne room for a shining stage.

He taunted with wit and he giggled with guile,

And even his sorrow he shared with a smile,

His father's gaze lessened, his temper was tame,

As his once "Golden Prince" treated life like a game.

The centuries passed and the mirth never ceased,

The sun never set on the first son of Greece,

He danced for his siblings and bit down his pain,

Since each peal of laughter meant there'd be less rain.

There's only one role for which there are no rules,

So who is the jester, and who is the fool?

[megamindsecretlair]

Girl you saw Aaron kissing on that white woman?

I hate to say it but that British black man with sum blue eyes like em PALE. (Of course I am saying this purely in suspicion)

Yeah, I seent it. So? Lmfao. Sorry. Ik folks are pressed but I simply don't understand the need to find something bad about this man?

We have so very few (practically nonexistent) Black men that we can love on in public. He's smart, sweet, talented, precious, a goofball, a nerd, and introvert, and has been nothing but precious around Black women. He practically lights up around us.

Why is it so hard to believe that he's just....a good guy? Because we have proof that he liked ONE yt? Dont they all?

But what really gets me is that folks think he's not capable of liking a yt AND a Black woman 🤔 like he has to be on one camp or the other.

And this is purely MY opinion. I'm not shaming anyone for caring. I understand. Its so beyond exhausting to feel like we're not wanted by our own counterparts. That they continually play in our faces and we love them anyway.

But until I actually see that he move funny around us, I just wanna love on him. I love that hes goofy and silly. I love that he can't dance. I love that he can sing and rap (though British rap is asssss, sorry Aaron daddy 🥲). I love that hes an introvert. I love hearing him say "opportunity, for me personally, legacy, honored, brother, bruv" and whatever else fly outta that beautiful mouth of his.

I love that hes "lightskinned". I love that I get to see him in Lanterns next year, however I can have him. Because I know Gunn will piss me smooth awf 🙄 I love that hes 6'3. I love that he works out. I love that he has tattoos. I love his big ass hands and that ass 🙌🏽 (that ass really needs to be worshipped)

I love that he dresses extremely well and couldn't pose for shit earlier in his career 🤣) I love that hes into the superhero genre as a whole (especially when everyone acts like it needs to go. Don't like it, don't watch. But don't ruin it for others who do like it).

I love that he shares a close bond with his family. I love how he lights up when he's comfortable. I love when he's in his feelings 🙌🏽🤪🥵 I love when he posts subtle thirst traps.

I love the Kelvin tiktok of him throwing his head back and laughing. I love that he can laugh about himself. I love his funny little laugh.

I love when he wears long sleeves. I love when he wears short sleeves. I love when he's tanned. I love when the camera makes him look pale as hell. I love when he wears glasses. I love when he brings those chains out 👁👄👁 .

I love when he hugs himself. I love when he has funny expressions. I love his big ears. I love his traditionally African features. I love his accent. I love that nasty tongue. I love his teefs Mr A is for All 32.

I love that he was a punk ass kid daring people to race him. I love that he had pimples. I love that hes finally getting the recognition he deserves. I love that he is only going to soar because he has a pure soul.

I love that he feels like our second chance with Chadwick. I love that his smile makes me melt. I love that every peek into his brain just makes me love him more.

I love that hes so cute I want to wring his neck. I love that I want to swing from his neck like a mf monkey 🙌🏽🤪 I love those tank tops he be wearing. Ooooof I love the hoochie Daddy shorts.

I love that hes Big Daddy. I love he went viral over an adverb. I love that hes into martial arts. I love that his thighs are so big. I love that he can lift 425 and pull damn near double that.

I love that he knows how to bring that ass outside. I love when he wears those shades. I love his photos. I love his juicy ass pink lips. I love that big headed, sloped shoulder, chameleon 🤪

I love him i love him i love him i love him i love him i love him i love him i love him

And if he turns up with a yt wife? Yes, that will hurt. But I'll always have Terry who canonically loves a Black woman from infinity to infinity (he instinctively believed Jess was the inside mole helping because he saw her as an ally)

Signed, A Certified Simp Named Mega

[daisywords]

something poem-adjacent, I suppose

[loganslowdown4]

Sanderstober 2024 Day 5!

I can’t art but I can do a writing prompt!

October 5: This one’s a play off a prompt from last year AND it’s a writing prompt! Take any famous character from a horror film, and create a nursery rhyme about them. You can make it completely innocent, or, like many nursery rhymes, remain dark but disguised in pretty language.

I did the 5 friends from The Cabin In The Woods movie and wrote it in the style of Edward Gorey’s macabre nursery rhymes—

That- that still counts right? 😅

Hope to do more writing prompts if any come up! 😁-Erin (aka earlgreymylove)

@thatsthat24

[definegodliness]

19-11-2024

Anna

A regal song to titillate all ears; A syllable or two, yet so it seems That every cloud from heaven disappears And moon-illumed arise forgotten dreams.

And whether called upon with silver tongue, Or sighed in gold's inaudible exhale, The palindrome resounds that sacred song Wherethrough the mysteries of night unveil.

Yet 'tis not her song that opens the skies, It is the magic when she heeds that call: A smile, a twirl; the twinkling of her eyes Expands eternity within The All.

As Anna shines, I know but one eclipse: Her name, as when she draws it from my lips.

--- 19-11-2024, M.A. Tempels ©

[into-ition]

The Debt

Bob robs Peter to finally pay Paul,

for the five hundred dollars Paul loaned him last fall.

Bob felt ashamed but he needed the dough,

and knew that good Peter would not even know.

Paul gets the cash and is off in a sprint,

to pay back old Morris for the money he lent.

Old Morris is happy with money in hand,

and finds young Maurice to pay him as planned.

Young Maurice is happy with five hundred bones

and goes to his uncle to pay off his loans.

Maurice’s uncle is proud of the boy,

and heads off to locate his good friend Miss Joy.

Miss Joy is a helper who’s helped many others,

helped Maurice’s uncle and all of his brothers,

when all of them found themselves in a tight pinch

and Miss Joy was ready to help in a cinch.

Miss Joy takes a ferry to go and see Mary,

with all of the thanks that a person can carry.

She’ll pay Mary back for all that she borrowed

when Miss Joy was lonely and drowning in sorrow.

Mary herself had some people to pay,

and one of these people was her old Aunt Kay.

Aunt Kay gave her money to pay for her rent

because Mary found that her money was spent.

Since Aunt Kay was also a one in the red,

she went down the docks and she found Captain Ted.

The captain had given her five hundred dollars

so Aunt Kay could answer her IRS callers.

The captain went down all the streets of his town,

looking to see if old Bob was around.

The captain had owed Bob a small sum of money

that Bob floated Ted on the Sound.

Bob took up the money and squared up with Peter,

who never once knew it had left his two-seater.

Bob re-placed the cash and was off in a dash—

his fleet feet had never been fleeter.

So what is the value of money?

What’s the appropriate call?

For these ten quartets have balanced ten debts,

and no one paid anything at all.

[chedelat]

disco elysium / l'internationale, eugene pottier / history, antonio gramsci / sacred and terrible air, robert kurvitz / revolution, vladimir mayakovsky / words of a rebel, peter kropotkin

[yesterdaysprint]

The Daily Worker, New York, May 4, 1927