Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 116° 
Leah Carr
Your return is wonderfully unexpected, but still seems so surreal.
 79° 
Zulma
No one offered her shelter,
it happens!
After the storm
they were surprised
to find her alive
whistling
clearing away the rubble.
 72° 
Grace
lovely is such a good word. maybe my favourite.
Take me with you
when you depart
when your stars go
supernova

will you carry me
into darkest nights
Wrapped up in galaxies
celestial

© FaerieFoxPoetry
 65° 
Kmary
Where we 1st met: 41.06°N, -74.02°W

Our first kiss: 41.09°N, -73.92°W

Our first date: 41.16°N, -73.97°W

Our first “I love You:” 41.07°N, -74.02°W

Our first carnival: 41.01°N, -74.01°W

Our first vacation: 20.21°N, -87.45W
 61° 
David Lessard
I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)
 47° 
Marisa Lu Makil
I fell asleep praying for your soul
And when I woke, I prayed some more
 46° 
Yasin
Sometimes
poems
make
me
want
to
write
in
a
crowd
of
only
one
person.
 45° 
Jonas ernest
Confidence is key.
Overriding human instinct and behavior. I am mere muscle tissue, fat, bone, hair and water.  I am material. Carbon. As common as sand.
I will be confident.
I will say what I want.
I will do as I please. I will look at the mirror and be indifferent in my response, as though looking at pebbles on a beach.  There.  Mineral composite.
My name is Jonas,  I am Earnest,  I have no fears but dying not having lived my truth.  I am here and was and will be.
The slow deep breath of reciprocating remorse
The unforgettable we can't account for nor atone
As the warmth from time's tale
turned as cold as marble , the choir sang ,

"A Whiter shade of pale"
 36° 
shana
They said,
"The most beautiful art is
looking into someone's eyes
when they talk about the
things they love.
"
And I said,
"Or looking at someone you love.
Or maybe, just maybe,
by looking at the mirror
is the most beautiful art
anyone should appreciate."
Appreciation post for myself; for you and for everyone as well. You deserve more than the world has to offer.
 33° 
Jessica B
Dear Daughter,

Always be Weird and eccentric.

Always be unique and different.

Light up the world with all your greatest passions.
And understand that relationships Are sacred.

For your signature is forever written.

In the sands of time
this world has given.

Always reminding you.

That there’s no one else like you.

Understand that,
You could change things.

Things bigger than ourselves.


Be in the moment.
As it is.

And listen for the answers.

🖤
God will give.


Embrace it.
Live it.
Love it.

❤️
- Mom
 33° 
Rain
It’s a city from the outside,
Shining on a hill
But from the inside looking out
It’s just another jail
It sometimes feels like the city walls are pressing in, suffocating me, but I can’t leave, at least not yet. Soon, though, I’ll be leaving; soon... I just have to remember to breathe long enough to get there.
Love- as the Realized talk of-
The pains of others become yours
This Love I seek for
.
.
.

Mistake corrected from the poem that I wrote a few months ago
🥰🥰🥰🥰
 31° 
japheth
if ever

you don’t

feel

like you have a home,

pull me close,

wrap your arms around me,

rest your head on my chest,

close your eyes,

and feel the warmth of the fireplace

resonating from within my heart.
 29° 
s y kalindara
You would think that printing all my recollections of you,
and shelving poems until my heart's ink ran dry,
would erase your umbra from my mind.
But you, in all your symmetry, are still there,
reverberating within me like the echoes of my footsteps on your stairs.

I walk alone now, our two shadows becoming one,
and I still can't get used to that
nor can I mind the gaps between my fingers where yours belong.

I can't bring myself to re-watch the shows we viewed together
without that black leather couch and our legs intertwined,
my eyes forecast their mistiness, you're all they remember.

You're alive in my bones
when I listen to that song,
and I must confess
that your warmth is still pressed
within the stitches of my favourite peach dress,
and I sample pieces of you
when I'm savouring your breakfast food,
you're the nicotine in my lungs, you're laced in B&H Gold,
You're the reason why I don't smoke anymore.

The ocean I put between us couldn't lead your ghost astray,
I thought you couldn't catch me in a land 3000 miles away,
yet you're noticeably there,
in the place you've never been,
against my very philosophy,
I carry you with me.


Copyright © 2021 by S. Y. Kalindara. All rights reserved.
J, always.
 28° 
ag
I broke too much
of myself
thinking someone
could fix me.

I should have not
turned myself
to pieces
in the first place.

Because no one
would ever keep
a broken mirror
in their pockets.
 27° 
Max
She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."
What's the difference?
 26° 
Grace Willow
Wrap me up in your words
Bury me in the warmth of you
Until I’m left with your scent for days
As I fall in love with you all over again
you gave me a word to hold onto
it got me through the night
felt nice for a while
but we both know this isn't right
keeping your distance is a crime
I know this by the hurt in my chest
someone's placed you here in front of
me as a torturing test
you've put a gun to my head and I'm asking to die
for the sake of being dead
what I would do for you to crawl out of her
and into my bed
the sky on this day
shows a wintry shade of grey
dismal its display
 20° 
debbie
Around,
Around, and around again.

Electric dance of the magnetic mind.

Silver thoughts police the undefined maroon center,
leaving the heel scuff on the face of the passion parade.

Tumbling,
Falling,

The silver glove is  trapped in the ooze of the intestine swamp.
Holding its victim till suffocation points the way out.
 20° 
Traveler
Whether a comma, or colon:
Punctuation slows my rolling
I need no period. When I end
no Capitalization when I begin
Rulelessly I flow my art
  Not a single!
Exclamation mark
Are you not the one
Who'll know?
Where a question mark
No longer goes

Warp the structure
Bend the lines
Put in repeat
Let emotion unwind
Make yourself
Your poetry's the best
Be your own ruler
Pass your own test

Take your own road
Where ever it leads
Lover or hater
It's all poetry!
Traveler Tim
.


Hay
No matter who you are
You have my deepest respect!

Vanity
All is vanity
The meanings of passion
The aesthetic expression
The lines we draw and stay within
Even love is beyond intent
Vanity transcends
Flowing from our pens
And so we breathe again
 19° 
J
Little did she know,
I love her
and the chaos
in her heart.
 19° 
Christa Ziegler
i will endure every

breath

of heart

break

for a moment of your love
 19° 
Krusty Aranda
I sometimes feel I'm an annoyance
And sometimes comes very often
And often I feel I'm not good enough
Even though I give my all
All is just a bit too much
It sometimes feels so overwhelming
And sometimes comes very often
 19° 
Ariana Bagley
I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.
 18° 
Eugene Osowski
We walk alone, alone we walk,
For we are scarcely here

Quite long enough
To comprehend

What is most plainly clear –

We are by chance,

By chance we love,

By love, we chance to be

But lovers on a lovely lake
Who love but momently.
 18° 
Carlo C Gomez
She likes toy soldiers with mustaches
and rolling camels from newspapers
(that way she has something to read when she smokes)

She likes spin the bottle at recycling centers
and starting arguments over produce
(she prefers steamed vegetables, you see)

She adores staycations in someone else's house
and dinner theatre for breakfast
(a little Hamlet and eggs)

She likes every other Tuesday
and clocks with only minute hands
(it's more her speed)

She likes hunting for change in penny arcades
and five & dimes
(but not dollar stores...go figure)

She likes soda crackers (but not soda)
She likes beer nuts (but not beer)
She likes wine cozies (well, you know the rest)
 18° 
misha
your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you
if only i could chase you with pizza but shots don't work like that
 18° 
Rollie Rathburn
Somewhere
a kitchen light still glows
on an immense orange cat
waiting to scour both dog bowls
for leftovers
that have yet to appear
after even a single meal.
Twilight throwing
lavender shadows
across the cramped
polaroid drenched kitchen
where you slow danced
to something acoustic
before saying your first goodbye
on a bare concrete balcony
studded with cigarette ash
and stars.
 18° 
Pseudonymous S
Oh
I’m scared to kiss you
I don’t think I could survive
You turning away
 17° 
emnabee
The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.
A little escape from the madness.
Or maybe, into.
I'm wearing a
mask
to hide my
face
from other people's
eyes
so they don't
see
all the blood
stains.
I bet on losing dogs - mitski
 16° 
neth jones
I offer up                                     
the stubborn prideful self
to a dispersal action
ink drop into moving water
to be included in the greater thirst
married with laughter
buried in the great humour of it all

What remains                              
can be free to operate ;
unrestrained by queries
based off of monstrous analysis

- Of Use Shall Be
 15° 
Ashton
I wonder how much a baby trusts itself to take their first steps
Next page