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Passions in Poetry

Digital Passions
Poetry Magazine

Digital Passions #7
published December 22, 2000


Editor's Column by Balladeer
Agony of Autumn's Greet by Serenity
Interview with Mike by Meadowmuse
Seasons of the Kaw by Mike
Special HOLIDAY Poetry Section
The Final Word by Poet deVine

* Bonus Features

Poetry Slam by Nancy Ness
Even MORE Special HOLIDAY Poetry

* Bonus Poetry & Prose

Love Poetry selected by Marie66
Sad Poetry selected by Starrgazer
Teen Poetry selected by Lovebug
Spiritual Poetry selected by Doreen Peri
Poems on Life selected by Jennifer Carden
Fiction - The Sad Dance by Martie

Read It All (one big page)

Spiritual Poetry Fiction - The Sad Dance

Poems on Life
selected by Jennifer Carden

Hello. My name is Jennifer Carden aka Temptress. When asked to find some poetry on the subject of life, I began to wonder what kind of poetry I could include. The search led me in many different directions. I found numerous poems that could have readily helped me define or describe the different aspects and views of life. I had to narrow it down to four poems, and chose the ones below to share with you all. You can find more work by these poets at the Passionate Forums section of the Passions in Poetry website.

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I chose this poem by Marge Tindal because it reminds me of the daily life and thoughts of a poet. It also makes me think of my belief that there is poetry in everything. For more of Marge's poems, check out the this link:


Poetic Sup
by Marge Tindal

The sun goes down
The moon comes up
I drink my fill
from poetic cup
A laugh ~ a smile
a tear ~ a sigh
One more heart-felt lullaby
On star wished in deepest sigh
beckoning love to come
Folding dreams in satin pillows
until the morning dawns
The moon goes down
The sun comes up
Sweetened is my morning cup
overflowing with poetic sup


This poem by wayoutwalt, spoke to me with the tired but patient voice of a father. At 24 years young, this father has a lot of responsibilities and many roles to play while trying to keep peace between the battle of optimism and frustration. Are these life trials of a father? I believed so. Check out wayoutwalt's website using this link:


Full House
by wayoutwalt

I love my first son though he's not my son
Sometimes I feel I must tell everyone
I love my daughter she's not my daughter
Sometimes I wonder where my wife got her
I love my youngest one by blood my son
We all together can have so much fun
They don't know yet the halves and the have nots
Though the day-care ladies share their own thoughts
Tim isn't like Tom and neither is Jill
There's a chance before the kids say it they will
It's true Tim were mine then I was sixteen
To become a dad would be quite obscene
So I'm quick to say I am a stepfather
But judgment is served so why do I bother
My daughter's tan does she stay in the sun
Or is it that she's a quarter Mexican
What do people say when I'm walking away?
Is he a fool that this long he has stayed
Bitterness, bitterness full of the hate
I'm a little boy with too much on his plate
Still they love me I'm the funniest dad
I could be the best brother they ever had
But I'm Walter then dad then I'm stepfather
I love them they'll change why do I bother


In this poem by Alicat I read an excellent description of the flow and change of life. To me it also describes a few of life's moments in very different way. For more about Alicat visit his website by using this link:


by Alicat

Winds of Change scour
The Sands of Time
Creating shifting vistas
Transient habitations
Where reside whirling dervishes?
And the haunts of memory's ebb
The present moment passes
Hiding all beneath the shifting
Sands of Time, still scoured
By the Winds of Change


I chose this poem because it is my own description of a young adult female and the time in her life when she ponders her journey and destination. It is an understanding of both the value of youth and the importance of adulthood. If you wish to contact me, e-mail me at


Youthful Dreams
by Temptress

I stand here on the edge of my youth,
Wanting to let go,
But willing myself the same to hold on.
The course of my thoughts are but a mystery.
The purpose for my existence,
Sometimes seems only to meet death.
Though some say I have a dear heart,
I beg to differ because I don't know the half of it.
What is going on when all I can do is nod my head,
In polite thanks as I taught myself to do.
I have not the courage to admit,
Lest I begin to take things for granted,
And seem self absorbed and arrogant.
Some say I am self-centered,
And that I may be at times,
As is everyone else in this eccentric world.
The talk and questions of myself,
Are far from the center of myself.
They are numerous thoughts and insecurities,
Of a shy woman in need of reassurance sometimes.
Self conscious, sometimes weak..
But loving, passionate, and hopeful.
I live my life and hope to be enriched day by day.
I am young still and have a long road to travel,
And I have my dreams should I get weary.
My kindness should I get thirsty.