Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 1268° 
JL Vega
We met
We talked
We pretended
We laughed
We considered
We agreed
We exchanged
We left
It was like a kiss from a rose
 996° 
nvinn fonia
fcking back  stabbers /.,
 811° 
guy scutellaro
you are the moonflower,
and the sweet fragrance
of night blooming jasmine.

the mysterious, magical beauty
of a single night.

It is the passionate night that holds you.

nothing lives forever,
not the stars scattered in the skies
nor the sadness reflected in your eyes.

hold my hand, blue flower.
hold my wistful heart
tangled and intimate
in our distant romance.

the oak trees rustling in the wind.
there is something cold in the air...
the fleeting bloom of the night's flower.

oh, flower of the night,
the night will never release you.

a solitary tear falls. I draw the shades.
 808° 
Kelsey
It's fascinating
That I keep coming back here.
When my heart breaks
And the darkness seeps in,
When there seems to be
No one to talk to
I come here
And I talk to myself.
I let strangers read the words
That no one can hear.
Even when they spill out of my mouth.
I come back to connect
With my true nature
And to those,
I dont even know their names.
So...I think I'll always be here.
So I can always be free.
My escape
 657° 
Victoria Hanson
I finally feel
like I'm me again
I haven't felt this good
Since I don't know when
My heart is not heavy
my mind is not spinning
My soul is uplifted
my life rebeginning
My future looks brighter
The path is made clear
My family is closer
My friends are more dear
I’ve learned many lessons
That got me to this place
But the greatest of all
Is to give myself grace
 630° 
Peter Gerstenmaier
The weeds in our garden
Grew as fast as the pile
Of your unreplied letters
Such a sad race to behold...
REPOST. Written in sep/24.
 407° 
Clay Micallef
The sky is a stormy
kind of strange indigo
daffodils are reaching
out for attention
the mountains
crumble with a
matter of urgency
my dreams are a
puddle of mud and
sullen reflection
tears spill into an open
field of wild orchids
the gods are drunk
with the thunder  
of excitement
I drift in and out of
dark dreaming I am
just a passenger in this
strange and awful place
sometimes when the
lights are low I often
wonder why do colours
fade away when you
need them the most 

Clay.M
 339° 
Marc Morais
We manage
as best
we can—
for us and others.

One day—
my hands
will stop reaching
to help others.

And I wonder—
which failing
will be at fault—
my body or
my heart.

If it is to be my heart
then let it be
both.
 282° 
Ruhani
It has been so long
Since I put my cloak on
To hide behind the closet
to look within and forget.
For the times when you want to shut down the world
 235° 
Michael
A red breasted bird
Perched on a wall
Absorbed in its world
Not worried at all.
Unconcerned by the height
And unaware of its weight
it nimbly takes flight
As I ponder life’s fate.
I envy the bird,
That can lift on a breeze,
Tied down by my mind
As a roof to its eaves.
Like the red breasted bird
I too perch on my wall
Absorbed in my world,
But worried I’ll fall.
 233° 
Archer
So you’ll yell at a tree
But simply complain about the forest?
 232° 
Zywa
Waking up, lightly

balancing between repose --


and my brand new day.
Composition "Fragile Balance" (2014, JĂŒrg Frey), for ensemble and piano, performed on four saxophones by the Amstel Quartet in the Organpark on March 8th, 2025

Collection "org anp ARK" #99
 227° 
Kate
I can’t do everything in one lifetime.
I want to be a writer— a poet, and yet I’d like to explore the stars, discover planets.
I’d like to act in every big-name movie, but I’d also love to sing my heart out in meaningless songs that others can’t quite comprehend.
I’d like to move countries, change my name, forget my old self— but I also want to embrace who I truly am, at my core.
Time.
There never seems to be enough of it.
If only we were given several lifetimes to figure ourselves out, to breathe life at its purest form, and see our souls in the way we know is right.
If only we could glimpse the countless endings hidden in every small beginning.
 224° 
RMatheson
And
suddenly
the
music
stops.
 210° 
Shaun Yee
It’s so simple to live happily,
To enjoy life, avoid misery,
Just follow the simple ways of life,
With understanding and empathy.
It’s not really very difficult,
Just leave your egoism behind.
too simple??
I was left of left
                    &
            called up as typical

    widespread panic metered
            your forearm.

    I was left with my ebbs
                     &
              in admiration

    of your gentle smile; kind as
               you **** me.
So little has passed in so much time.
 198° 
kind hands
twist and turn
scream and burn
take a match to my mind
trapped
and still i yearn
 197° 
bulletcookie
scarab beetles fly
spirals: plop, drop, round dance, lay
dung-***** bear new life

-cec
 197° 
ahintofpoetry
I feel like there is a summer
To come but yet long gone
But I trapped myself
In a perpetual dawn,
Expecting midday
 183° 
PhantomDreamer
I should have known
 171° 
Selma
I am not hard to love.
I am not unreasonable.
And I don’t distribute headaches,
Like candy,
When I wish to express my emotions.
I simply express -
I am allowed to voice
My thoughts,
My opinions.
If it is a concept you cannot grasp,
Take the problem off my back
And dig deep within yourself.
It’s just an old heart I forgot was there anymore
A heart I stopped looking for
A heart I didn’t know i care about anymore
Old heart rediscovered
Once judged by its cover
An old me, an old heart, new again
—Timothy Charles Carter
 164° 
Eme
Abuse

It’s not black or white
No one will understand
I went through something
I’m still processing
I am sad but I don’t understand why
I am loved and I am in pain
Why can’t they stop hurting me
I’m too young to protect myself
I need to protect them
I need it to stop
Why can’t they see I’m hurt
It’s all a blur
Memories are a blur
The feelings remain
I’m ashamed
I’m angry
I cry for my family
I cry for me
 163° 
Northern Poet
Pints int sun
Socks, sliders and chit-chat
Walking home in zig zags
Good people
I miss all that

Summer days
Sunny haze
Topping up the tan
In the English rays

Factor 50
Laid on thick
When the temp strikes 20
The sunstroke hits

Ice-cold bevs
On a picnic bench
Tunes blasting
Pints thrown
Am chuffing drenched

The ciggies and spliffs
Chasing the vibe
Oh, what it is
To be alive

The beer gardens
Packed to the brim
“Sorry mate
You can’t come in”
Party in the park
Barbecues
And burnt sausage
Go on then
Another gin

The English summer
What a sight
Top’s off, top’s on
Golden days
And Endless nights
For the English summer
 159° 
S R Mats
You could just as well
Turn off the sky

Or block the sun from view
As to stop my loving you

Could one take the stars
And place them on Mars

Or grab the moon
And to place in your room

No!  For time rushes on
And opportunities can be gone

Yet, there are universal truths
That offers us much proof

Love is mightier than the universe
If only I could put time in reverse

I'd still be with you
 156° 
Ari
...
I wish "home"  is where my heart is.
 151° 
Lost Indeed
What do I do when this feeling hits?
It's Sunday night, and we cannot kiss.
The night just seems so cruel to me,
Leading me to dreams that I cannot see.

I can smell her skin when I close my eyes,
Like a drug of love I cannot fight.
I need to love her, I need to hold her tight,
I need to feel her heat—I need her tonight.
T
 150° 
tender flame
the rise and fall of stars both reside in me, cosmic rifts searing through the skin. each one bleeds a tale to be told, only i can hold—to ache, to remember.

they form constellations to chart—a map of wander and wounds, a framework of a galaxy. but with your slightest, tender touch stellar lifetimes collapse again into light—bright, breathless—blooming into a supernova.
i don’t want to hide when i’m with you.
 143° 
Titus E Gray
I was light for a moment
I was dark for longer
I was full sometimes
I was empty more often

I’ve been the sunrise
I am the sunset
I’ve been the sun
I am the moon

As much as I am
I’m also not
The ups seem more distant
When the downs getting deeper

But I’ll keep chasing the waves
Even when they pull back
Because the tide always rises
Even after it falls
 139° 
silvervi
Even the smallest warm interaction with other people counts.
And it has a ripple effect if we let it 💗
 128° 
Gant Haverstick
desert squall
clouds run together
like wild buffalo
Gant Haverstick 2025
 127° 
Matthew Liu
I’m a star,
Aligned with others in the dark,
Millions and trillions of dreams—
Gravitation pulls their light in streams,
And they shine so bright,
Yet each has its own plight.
The hidden message haha
 127° 
nivek
Jesus may one day walk across the sea
and I will see Him from my perch on my settee
looking out my window as I do everyday
being healed by the wonderment of natures display.
 119° 
Adam S
I wanted to catch the air
and pet the stray on the street.
To cage a bird who wants
nothing but freedom.

What did I learn?

Air will leave the room you rush in,
cats don't trust hands,
and birds will only stay
as long as you feed them.
 117° 
Sean Briere
A constant craving
The laundry just sits and sits
The itch that won’t scratch
 113° 
Fleeting Ink
She
I know her
She has long black hair with soft waves
I know she loves her face now
it looks healthier.

She is smiling
More sincerely than yesterday
The weight has lifted
Because she finally let go of what she once held too tight.

I know her
The woman in my mirror
Has committed to living in peace
Happiness will be the bonus
And I love her more than yesterday
Even more so tomorrow than today.
 111° 
Arthur Rimbaud
Dans la feuillée, écrin vert taché d'or,
Dans la feuillée incertaine et fleurie
De fleurs splendides oĂč le baiser dort,
Vif et crevant l'exquise broderie,

Un faune effaré montre ses deux yeux
Et mord les fleurs rouges de ses dents blanches.
Brunie et sanglante ainsi qu'un vin vieux,
Sa lĂšvre Ă©clate en rires sous les branches.

Et quand il a fui - tel qu'un Ă©cureuil -
Son rire tremble encore Ă  chaque feuille,
Et l'on voit épeuré par un bouvreuil
Le Baiser d'or du Bois, qui se recueille.
 106° 
Bekah Halle
Wild & Desperate

Most of life is spent curled;
Caught in the wild and desperate places,
Straddling between two worlds;
Satisfied and striving, for more space,
The here-and-now and the not-yet-inspired.
Being enough and constantly unlaced.
Lent is the practice of sacrifice (going without) and remembrance. I am giving up chocolate this year and will try to write a poem in my new “Lent Collection” each day. Enjoy!
 103° 
Shang
with every passing moment,
I find it more and more
difficult to determine
who is human &
what human is?
© Shang
Next page