Light pierces through wind torn holes.
My eyes ache adjusting to the light.
Shapes and figures barely formed.
A sweet scent calls me forward.
But I know nothing of the day;
like a blind man,
seeking the sight he once knew.

But it is not in the light one finds sight.
It is in the darkness.
Here the sightless have sight.
Those who see are lost.
In this place beauty is more than a word,
more than a thing to look upon.
It is the essence of our soul.
Our own personal angel.

Rise then!
Lift yourself up!
To the clouds where angels sing.
Embrace your wind torn wings and soar once more.
For only with a heavy heart shall you be bound to the dirt.
Fly ever higher towards the sun.
Embrace its life giving warmth;
and in this place,
your happiness,
your heart,
your love,
will know no bounds.

By: Jeffrey Phillips Freeman

2nd poem I've written recently. Took me just a few minutes to write but I think its one of my best poems. It was inspired by Amanda.

In days of old, with heart so bold;
when courage finds its way.

A man comes forth who finds his worth,
in love and righteous action.

With strength of heart he fulfills his part,
and confronts the popular passion.

Fighting long and strong in a world gone wrong;
the masses fight and plunder.

Finding worth in one, then hope did come,
the masses pushed asunder.

Lives around us are born and die. We live to see the life and death of the plants, animals, and people that surround us. Every year an entire world of plants, insects, and animals die around us leaving a barren icy world reborn new just as quickly as it died. Our beloved pets, our loved Grandparents, uncles, cousins, friends, and even parents are taken from us. All the while we gain life long friends, and new fragile babies are born to our families and friends. As death overtakes you, and everyone you came to this world with, you see the beauty and light in these small innocent lives ready to reseed the world to be reborn new again. For those of us lucky enough to live to an old age, we have experienced not only our own lives but have witnessed and shaped entire lives around us. We have the wisdom of all the lives around us; if we use our life to see, and learn and grow, the powerful wisdom and responsibility that is gained is astounding.

We are creatures with great power, knowledge and wisdom. It is a grave responsibility we have as humans; we are responsible to the earth that feeds us, gave birth to us, it is our medicine, it is our family, our mother, our life support, our responsibility. Mother earth has given birth to us, has let us evolve and grow to have the ability to step out on our own, and make our own decisions, and like any good mother she left us with the keys to the house, and trusts us not to trash the place. For the first time in all of known history a species has evolved to have the power, both to destroy and create, that we have been given. This responsibility is not to be taken lightly. We are the guardians and caretakers of all life on earth now. The world outside your door, to the left, and to the right, that is your world, your sacred grove of life that you are to tend and nurture. It doesn't matter if you are in the city or on the top of a mountain, your neighbor, the woods across the street, the little kids that play outside, your best friend across town, your children, they are all yours to care for, to make sure you don't harm them, and protect and help them.

Brambled velvet, bloody thorns.
The sweetest warmth on my tongue.
A distant memory of a soft touch that never was.
The thorns are a poison, and the fruit its cure.
The sweet fruit that turns the ash in my mouth to wine,
the peaceful ignorance of my intoxication.
Numb to the destruction as I tear away the velvet fruit,
leaving a mutilated husk, its life blood dripping.
The desolate brambles now rotting in the sun.
Its life for mine, a life I never wished to take,
as if there was some other end, some perfect end.
But it was all a dream.
A haunting dream.
An eternal dream.
A dream more real than life.
A dream...

My first poem in 3 years! This is a poem i wrote today, im very proud of this one i think its my best one yet, and unlike my others it doesnt rhyme. Anyone who cares at all about poems id really appreciate you reading it and giving some honest (and preferably critical) feedback.

The heart of man is burnt and gray;
for all our greatness we lost our way.

All alone the blind prevail;
no more love and we will fail.

Honesty and integrity crumble;
kings of men fall and fumble.

Love is lost, people torn
we die everyday and never mourn.
But there is light in babies born.

Hope exists for those who love;
the light is in us, not from above.

Give of yourself and you will find;
the part of you greater than the mind.

-All my love to the reader,
Jeffrey Phillips Freeman