Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Kyra Wallace
The way you make me feel.
So filling.
So full.
The memories of us together.
So happy.
So loving.
The present-day of us.
So angry.
So hated.
The past lasted sooner than I thought.
Aaron Combs
Do you remember the garden?
Do you remember the garden?


It was of such magnificence and awe.

The Charlotte roses filled the wild,
peace was uncaged, unbroken,
and the dragons and doves flew together,

And the thousand horses ran free.
And the thousand horses ran free.

I notice resting inside your eyes
and heart hasn't been so hard. Wrestling for you,
holding you,
like a child, it hasn't
been so different.

I'm taking you back there, Eve
into the Land of Eden,
just drink of my lips
a little longer and you'll remember
and see.

Do you like to dance, Eve?
Let me make your imagination full
Then let me bring it to war as  we step
into it's gates.

Let’s Dance.

For the wind of the evening
still weaves dreams between
the heavens and the earth.
There. Look.

For your heart outshines the moon, I see the hurt, the regret
The pain in the pool of you precious eyes.
And I still see you, I still love you
For you.

I hear the rhythm of your breath
and dreams, the electricity and earth
of your voice. I see the blood written
words in your heart, let me show you what
they are.

Now see the memories come
together, as you believe.

The endless garden,
the red cedars,
the cool four rivers crashing
near the rock, where we once slept.  

And look, where we hid.

See, like I promised you, we are here again,
we are here.

Where the petals sip the dew upon
the face of the earth.
where the rain and the moonlight has
not fallen.

Now look at the stars, Eve. Everyone of those stars
are named, the star of Orion, the Bear,
and Leo, everyone of them.

Everyone of them will fall
                            Everyone of them,
                            Everyone of them.

So don't be afraid in your pain
in your feelings,
just come to me.

For you can take my hand,
and be safe in my arms of
love. Even when it all falls.
Even when it all comes crashing down.

   Trust me.


200 votes?

My 6th Poem. May it bless you all.
neon lights
illuminate the night’s
heavy clouds

while rain muffles
the constant urban humming

pierced by distant sirens
moving slowly
through concrete canyons.
If i could turn back the hands of time...
Then maybe, I'll ask God. Why!!
Why me??
Why this generation??
And "***"
If yhu could turn back tine, what would yhu do??
Rikki Matsumoto
It's been a while since I write with dedication.
i need a moment of your time,
just a moment, nothing more
i need opinions on how to change,
even if i don't need to
i want help, if i need it
if i don't see it, help me
if i fall, i don't want to not even try
sunrain afternoon
where shall I send my poems?**

to my eyelashes,
for they beat irregularly
unconcealed and unconscious
like my poems

to my fingertips,
where they are released fluidly
they grasp, strained and staining, tapping breaths
like my poems

to my smile,
fleeting and happy weeping fortuitously
a lifetime of a whisper, glimpsed and gone
like my poems

to my brain,
where they are symmetrically born only to die ceremonially
a fireworks duration evaporating into a rich velvet
like my poems

like my poems,
none will survive me,
blemishes, pockmarks, beauty marks, residues,
in a flash bang born, in a flash bang consumed

3:08am dec. 9 2019
Delia Grace
The apocalypse,
I think, will smell
like peppermint
essential oils,

a lover’s
and organic
lemon soap.

It will smell fearful,
a bluff for
gentle, winding fingers
in a flurry of youth.

It will smell strong,
a stench that you
breathed in slowly when
your neck was buried in it.

It will smell filthy,
accompanied with the
crunch of insect shells
that sends the others running.

The apocalypse,
I think, will smell
fresh and clean and
as if it’s only yours.
I’m still a lair
I still lie to you
it doesn’t matter
when, why, or who
I’m still working
on trusting others
but I’m really just
learning to trust myself
I don't miss the laughs
Nor do I miss the tears
I miss the pain we shared
The suffering we endured

No one understood our pain
The suffering we endured
Except for us.
Only we knew what it felt like

What we shared
What we had
Was more than just a story
It's as our life

A life we all shared
A life only we knew
One of my happiest moments while facing depression was when I met a group of people about 5 years ago who was going through something similar to me.
The irony of it is that we found happiness in our pain.
Ashlee Proctor
I fought for your love when you were afraid to give it
A thousand times I would relive it
Just to have what we do now

But not of yourself.

Try again...
Semi-literate Poet
Do you think a girl could love a boy who writes for her a million poems?  That's what I plan to do.
Climactic Poet
Why come now?
When the show is over?
When the curtains are closed?

My love, it’s too late.
I don’t feel anything for you anymore
In fact
I don’t feel anymore
I miss the way you carded your fingers through my hair
And the way you'd cradle me in your arms

Why did you have to turn on me
I thought you'd be different
I was wrong
I wish to be just like you.
But if I were you
I would want to be me too.
Every night
When I get into bed
It’s cold

But I no longer care
Because I can crawl into my bed
And hide under the covers

But every morning when I get up
It’s still cold
And this time I care

Because now I have to get out of bed
Out of my sanctuary of warmth
And face the cold, cruel, world
Yeah... idk. It’s cold and I don’t wanna get it of bed so I’m procrastinating by doing this.
Today my friend told me
I was acting strange
I gave her the
of a sugar high
But really,
I was just being
You were there
for me
to teach me
to guide me
to help me
to listen to me

Are you here now
for me
to hug me
to kiss me
to hold me
to love me

Because I was there then and I am here now
i laugh at the irony
that love broke my heart.
Francie Lynch
A person's perceived stature
Should never be measured
By height.
atticus wilson
Here I am
For the second time this week
Wishing I could get a good nights sleep
John Brown
i rose with dawn
and now plagued by thoughts
usual and unusual

my eyes burn as my mind speaks
Hey guys!
I've been trying to keep my poems a bit open to interpretation recently, like you might see in "bison" and "colour". I'd love to read your thoughts on them, so feel free to comment :)
would you stay with me if i had to go somewhere
would you stay with me if i messed up
would you stay with me if i was sad
would you stay with me?
A poet is no more than a person
A mother
A daughter
A lover  
Someone needing release
Or someone needing to recover

It’s the art they create when that ball of ink or stick of led dances on the canvas they so perfectly prepared.
And when the end result and their purpose become perfectly paired.
you always make me happy when ever im with you
make me feel alive make me feel brand new
the smile you always wear all across your face
sends the soul in me to a different place

with your loving way that you give to me
you brighten up my life set my spirit free
everthing i dreamed of you just have it all
deep in love with you i began to fall

i just want to be with you for now and evermore
the feelings that you give me i never had before
you are everthing  your my dreams come true
for the rest of my life i want to spend with you
Noni Winters
I stumbled upon you
Like a child
that finds a pretty stone

Bewildered by your presence
I sat and admired
Counting your cracks
Caressing what makes you glitter

You stood infront of me
Bold and beautiful
Like nothing I'd ever seen

And as you gave me your attention
I think I misconstrued your intentions

I wanted to put you in my pocket
But you said no

So there you sit
Perfectly unpolished
A love

I can only visit
Raj Bhandari
When you feel sick,
the world looks sad,
so, no one here, cares,
the world is really bad!
Cydney Something
"I just want to kneel at his altar every night of my life."
She takes the stand
With the voice of millions on her back
And speaks the fact that we all know,
far too well to be true -                  
                                           Me too.

She is heard but not believed,
She is heard with faith deceived .

When will it be enough -
Is one in six not enough ?
Is one sister, one friend
still - not enough?

one colleague, one mother, one wife, one lover -
one teacher, one doctor, one preacher, one author -
one husband, one son, one brother.
Which one will it take, to stop
the non-consensual clock
and make us realise that -

Time. Is. Up.

if my mind
was the universe
thoughts of you
would be the
stars that fill it
beyond measure

I'm jealous of the rain
It gets close to you
Closer than I ever will
It touches your skin
It combs your hair
It comes when you're sad
It stays when you're happy
I love you but you don't love me
So I say
I'm jealous of the rain
Sorry I haven't written anything as of late. I have been really busy with school. I really hope you enjoy.
Edit: thanks for the comments the original song is Jealous by Labirinth
N̵o̵,̵ ̵I̵ ̵d̵o̵n̵'̵t̵ ̵w̵a̵n̵t̵ ̵i̵t̵,̵
̵I̵ ̵d̵o̵n̵'̵t̵ ̵w̵a̵n̵t̵ ̵t̵o̵ ̵s̵e̵e̵ ̵y̵o̵u̵ ̵h̵a̵p̵p̵y̵ ̵o̵n̵l̵y̵ ̵f̵o̵r̵ ̵a̵ ̵m̵o̵m̵e̵n̵t̵,̵
̵ ̵b̵u̵t̵ ̵a̵l̵w̵a̵y̵s̵,̵
I̵ ̵n̵e̵v̵e̵r̵ ̵w̵a̵n̵t̵ ̵t̵o̵ ̵s̵e̵e̵ ̵y̵o̵u̵ ̵c̵r̵y̵i̵n̵g̵ ̵e̵v̵e̵n̵ ̵f̵o̵r̵ ̵j̵u̵s̵t̵ ̵a̵ ̵s̵e̵c̵o̵n̵d̵,̵
B̵u̵t̵ ̵i̵f̵ ̵c̵r̵y̵i̵n̵g̵ ̵i̵s̵ ̵t̵h̵e̵ ̵o̵n̵l̵y̵ ̵w̵a̵y̵,̵
t̵o̵ ̵e̵a̵s̵e̵ ̵t̵h̵e̵ ̵p̵a̵i̵n̵ ̵i̵n̵ ̵y̵o̵u̵r̵ ̵h̵e̵a̵r̵t̵,̵
̵ ̵d̵o̵n̵'̵t̵ ̵c̵r̵y̵ ̵a̵n̵y̵m̵o̵r̵e̵,̵
f̵o̵r̵ ̵I̵'̵d̵ ̵b̵e̵ ̵w̵i̵l̵l̵i̵n̵g̵ ̵t̵o̵ ̵s̵h̵e̵d̵ ̵t̵h̵i̵s̵ ̵t̵e̵a̵r̵s̵ ̵o̵f̵ ̵m̵i̵n̵e̵,̵
̵s̵o̵ ̵t̵h̵a̵t̵ ̵y̵o̵u̵ ̵c̵o̵u̵l̵d̵ ̵b̵e̵ ̵j̵u̵s̵t̵,̵
̵H̵ ̵A̵ ̵P̵ ̵P̵ ̵Y̵ ̵ ̵ ̵A̵ ̵L̵ ̵W̵ ̵A̵ ̵Y̵ ̵S̵.̵
Leila The Kiwi
You have always
Been a ray of sunshine

While they were
A frosty blizzard
At least once.

Inspired by the quote: "I wonder whos arms I would run and fall into if I was in a room with everyone I have ever loved"
Close your eyes
Count to ten
Take a breath
Find a pen
Write it out
Let it loose
Don't get lost
In these woods
For one day
You might get stuck
Way too far
In the muck
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems too *******.
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.
“You’re not good enough”
Is the one sentence you should
Never tell yourself.
Hi. I’ve been struggling with this my whole life. It’s like I’ll never be able to convince myself. I feel like my poetry is at a decline. I feel as if nothing I write is good. I couldn’t tell you the amount of “drafts” &  private poems I have on here just because I’m afraid.
Afraid of ridicule.
Afraid of hating myself more.
Afraid of everything.
Wala ba akong karapatan mapagod?
Rinig na rinig ko ang hiyaw ng aking kaluluwa
Gustong-gusto ko, pero hindi pwede

Dinadaan ko na lang sa tula ang kapaguran ko
Dinadaan ko na lang sa tula ang sakit
Dinadaan na lang sa biro at libog
Sa halakhak at ngiti
Sa mga sigawan at kwentuhan
Sa kalungkutan at panloloko sa sarili
Ito'y ang aking araw-araw

Kay sarap isipin
Kay sakit marinig
Pero sana'y makahiga, pikit, at idlip rin

At kahit minsan sana'y
Maramdaman ko ulit
Ang tunay na kapayapaan
Carlo C Gomez
"Every survivor of ****** assault deserves to be heard, believed, and supported."

Rainwater of
the Elysian fields,
you assuredly do
like to drown your winged heroines?
You write them as strange
bitter narratives,
spurious to the calling
or as a bit of
bloodletting go.

The history formed around either
her breaking at the seams
upon the witching hour,
and her own home village
pillaging her claims
in the bonfire;
Or the arcane notion
no woman shall give testimony
against a neighbor
on the occasion he's a man.

Yes, she cried no at the temple gate
Yes, she repeated such entreaties
But she'd also been into the ale
and wore an overtly
fetching carousal dress
you incensed.
Let her dam break
Let her try and flood us over
you mocked.
She was only a wayfaring angel
one reckless bird of passage
What type of wounds
could she inflict?

How easily you lost sight
of her will & halo
becoming stronger than fright.
Down she poured in antipathy,
until covering your gaping mouth!
It wasn't rain that killed you,
for you were the rain,
it was her blood calling out
that finally did you in...
When it comes to ****** assault and/or harassment, a woman's voice needs to be listened to and believed.

Inspired by the poem "Dark Sky, One Star," by fellow HP writer Ashly Kocher.
Next page