excerpts
Poets Media isolates the most poignant, powerful, and exquisitely composed verses and quotes in the universal poetry canon.
6 Poems from some of my books
Light is the ever birthed truth Poem by JD Glasscock Interwoven tilt of lips into upturned horizons, the hip man flips a coin while gypsy girls do thigh thrust shakes to the moon and an infant in the forest wails for nurturing....small men in rotting suits count green bills in the aftermath of self indulged boredom......she said in the wee hours of morning wisps, to hope and dream are the only steps to laughter......the hip man winks, the gypsy girls ethos mirth within the dance, the child gurgles bubbles in the turning of wails to twinkles finding eyes and the small men sneer as they continue counting, their world closing truth on their deteriorating frames.......all around the globe, wings are unfurling, spreading against the burgeoning dawn......laughter and hope are spinning threads forever renewing..
By JD Glasscock5 years ago in Poets
4 Poems and a song from some of my books
The Hunt to the Haunt of my Forever Song Poem by JD Glasscock Frisky in the bare full moon journey of eve's dark semblence....howls building up in the caverns of chests....My limbs lope the forest of black pitched ballads.....sunlight kept in coins, hidden in pockets seamless and secreted, held for moments where treachery and abandonment walk a fine line between delusional self immolation and the laziness of underachievement, when hope is a fading melody in a strong coursing wind...and I crawl and skip and wail into the heavy night....freedom....a jaundice joint of prayer in the echos of oblivion....and in the shadows of my shade women dance to the rhythms of fables, fairytales long ago forgotten and thrown away, tossed to the broken down railways of ghosts and failing priorities, moralities....to the worship of their own divinity, hunger, wants and bottomless aching of a love that was shifted to strange shapeless dreams in the hour of their desperate need.....their breasts shaking their hips and grace etched legs to the down beat of lute struck tonal haunts of immemorial conquest, their silhouettes a remembrence to the martyred acclimation of mothers and sisters and daughters.....to the tributes of forever divided statuesque sculptures carved in the visage of fathers and brothers and sons....these are my mates pen runed in fate....their choreographed sorrow to the hunt of my spiritual assassination....their strength my salvation.....their tireless chasing of perfection the reminder to my dereliction......to the cave drawn annals of my listless lollygagging of lollipop blues......who we choose a choice chosen by very few.......
By JD Glasscock5 years ago in Poets
Thoughts of a troubled mind
Author's note: We all struggle from time to time, no matter if its financial, spiritual, emotional, or physical. One that we barely talk about is mental health struggles. In this is a collection of short stories to enlighten everyone what might go on in someone's mind when they are struggling with mental health. I am no stranger to these struggles and hope that it might help others in the future. Please never be afraid to reach out for help if you feel you might be going through some of the same. You are not alone!
By Rebecca Schoenfeld5 years ago in Poets
These Dreams
A dream, it can be so many things. So much more than what you can think. A dream is a wish, or a surprise. It could be something so meaningful like the sun rising in the sky. They might be stories of the future, or the past. Like a stolen kiss during a long forgotten dance. A gift, and sometimes a present. Dreams are also not always pleasant. A monster hiding under your bed, or a cold chill that starts at the top of your head. An unpleasant tingling straight to your bones. Dreams can be so many things. Like poetry, they are so much more than the feeling. They can leave so timid, afraid for your toes. Or make the hero, the star of the show. Just close your eyes, you will see. As you sleep you dream up your very own stories.
By Tabbietabs5 years ago in Poets
Dirty Keys N' Pure Praise
Battered and beaten keys still sang and rang with war cries through the damp night air. Sludging through trenches to the beat of melodious, bombing warfare. Husky voices singing loud for Heaven's hand to extend to their own. Muscular black and white men, standing shoulder to shoulder, humming in unifying tone. "Pull me up from mucky mire. Soon before, I surely expire." Keys bouncing up and down. Shaking, trembling, exploding ground. Duck and weave. Notes shrewdly perceive. Sliding into fermata furrows. Stuck fast, in clay-covered sorrows. Praising never once ceased. Though souls were finally released.
By Rowan Finley 5 years ago in Poets
A souls Link
Day to day. Living for the next or just caught up in today, some minds are focused on just the moment of now, some caught in the memories of old, some in the future of tomorrow. Expansion of soul living, rather then just going through the motions of running kids to school or fighting sleeping in and striving to rush out the door for work or make it to a class on time. Finding time for the things we love and adding them to daily living.Life's daily crafted happiness is something to own, to believe in. Not a thing is by chance or coincidence, there is a reason for whatever happens and for whom ever may enter it. Amazing impacts of how people and places can have an impact on our lives at the right about timing.To be obtaining an open mind to life and what what comes with it and who impacts us and how enlightenment in our soul is established. However impacts for sure differ in every soul because every soul has its different liking. Time take for a time soul found in a place of surrender and peace findings, leading to happiness and happiness leading toward contentment. To be having a life slowed down, when we are not to rush in a feeling of lateness, but take things as the come, its easier in not making mistakes because of the awareness that gains from continually practice. When we focus on what is just in-front of us one thing at a time mindfully. I have found personally that I have gotten there much faster when I admire what is around me and put intention in to everything I do. Take away what doesn't serve you, all the while learning from these lack of servings and it leaves what does serve automatically. Inspired action to let go of judgements on how others are viewing you .As impacting our selves with living in beauty, implosion takes place with in our selves exploding to others. Future present, our soul can get bogged down by the past it could cause a weight to the present, leaving our minds to the moment in mindfulness in its fullness, is most important.if the burdens to great distribute the weight. Making life something that you love with a passion to continue onward and feel it with a passion, a drive others will feel with you.
By Sierra Angel5 years ago in Poets
Shades of Possibility
They knew no limits and had no permits for the things they desired, but forward into life they conspired, transpiring beyond all preconceived notions of those around them. What did they care? Their share in the world was all that mattered and no flattery could persuade them to walk down any other path. They'd been grafted into something greater because it was a bolder tone that they played with the instruments inside their minds. The best kind of sounds were the ones that were free and unhindered. Like bartender gone rogue, if that is even a thing, or a sensible comparison. They made it their own thing, bringing ideas to the world that were only known as shades of possibility before. And yet there were greater things in store, but it took toilsome work; like walking from door to door, hoping to get a bite from someone interested in the greater ideas and holistic plans and ideas laid out for humanity.
By Rowan Finley 5 years ago in Poets
fathering.
Letting go was the best way I could love myself when I couldn't string the perfect words. There was no explanation I could've provided for my choices; I left you with nothing to cling to except maybe confusion. It simply didn't serve us any longer to hold on so tight. I trusted in anything bigger- in fate. I never stopped loving you. Your longer days and dark nights taught me patience. And I could get through more nights without worrying about you so much, but, still, putting myself first felt new, but . . . good. Better than before. Attending to matters of the heart in perfect solitude.
By A.I. Reads5 years ago in Poets
