Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Stay immortal,
leave your legacy

Conquer the greatest dragon
rescue the bravest princes
find your hero
deep within
Stained Glass
"But the problem is, even if i could go back,
                                                     I wouldn't belong there anymore."
i used your love letter to spit out my gum
There are bedbugs in my head
And they are singin your song.
I don't know if we're dead
So for now I'll sing along.
Laura Trueman
He could find me
Where no one can
He surprised me
I least expected him
To love me

His mind was a palace
Anxiety knows the world is burning
   Even if we can't see the flames

Anxiety knows predators are out there
   Even if we don’t know their names

Anxiety knows bad luck happens
  Simply unfortunate events lay claim

Anxiety knows less about statistics
   And much about things that maim
There is only ONE thing you need to do,
to get EVERYTHING you want in life.

Focus on Jesus.
Ikigai Poet
However dreadful, scary or sad
the reality may be,
it is the only place where you can
dream peacefully.
-Ikigai Poet
maybe the two strangers
looking at the same shining light
shared the most graceful moment
of their lives
without a clue in mind
what the stranger’s name was
but they knew what they smelled like
and maybe these strangers
shared more moments than we ever can
Chris Saitta
Love has passed me by like a stream at a miller’s side
Who has store of grains and grinds and little else.
A bird is the mill wheel that spills out
Small buckets of splashing trills in these woods
~Whose heart is the great spiral tragedy of a tree
that lessens itself by load of leaves~
Love has passed me by like a road for the dusted hoof
Of a pack horse whose rider is a daze of coin-pursed eyes,
And a saddle of dry distance for fortune’s miles.

Love, how you pass me again and again,
In your madness for grain of coin and its too many roles.
Sometimes the giver is more gift than the rose.
For slide video:
John Akins
I'm not broken, I'm tired
Of emptying myself into people
With hearts like broken jars
And arms riddled with holes.

So don't ask me to give
My cup is empty
And I have nothing to offer you
Living life
to please
is a
waste of
Tony and Bianca dance through my midnight to dawn,

and if I should drift off to sleep they prance through my dreams,

Their Jocularity and absurdity surfs the waves of 3aw Australia Overnight radio chatter,

and like poetry in motion they write words on my heart to abate my anxiety and depression.
P I Watson
Earthy smell of your skin spread across the sheets
Curled up with your tan litheness, I watch
Green block letters on your t-shirt rise and fall.
Wishing it was more than your breath propelling them up and down,
I curse my own heart for swelling
Scattered books and pens
A noose hanging from the roof
The ink running dry
First attempt in Haiku,
I wrote it a couple months ago during the final exams.
Classy J
Whispered winds, feathers gliding over hills.
Tulips bloom under the moon.
A moon so blue.
Sun where are you?
It’s been a day.
I’m left In the dark.
Nightmares bringing night terrors.
Like a cold grip when nobody’s around.
Tossing and turning.
Overthinking all of it.
Winds that were once whispering are now yelling.
Feathers turning into scales of a dragon.
Is this Armageddon?
Then it dawned on me.
And evil was dispersed.
Sun has come to my rescue.
And I fall asleep, knowing I’m safe.

She is like sunrise

bright and warm,

you are like a storm

without the calm.

She is made of blue

you are bright red.

The blue in her eyes,

the red on your lips,

the shape of her hips

the heat of your thighs.

Nothing to prove,

she is made of truth

you are made of lies-

July 20, 2019
“It's amazing the difference
A bit of sky can make.”
― Shel Silverstein
keep your eyes closed love.

           e     t      
       m           i
    o                 m
s                        e  
                            s     all you have to
                                                                ­ l                  is to what the sound
                                                           ­      i            n
                                                  ­                s           e
                                                               ­          t

                                                              ­                               v
                                                               ­                         a        e
                             ­                                          of the  w               s
                         ­                                                                 ­            tells  you
                                                                ­                                        to do.
"keep your eyes closed love. sometimes all you have to listen is to what the sound of the waves tells you to do"

When I was much younger, beaches were my second favorite places. I still love watching waves as they go by, crashing against each other and the whole process repeating all over again.
words pour out of my skull;
more story than poem,
as i scrape the essence of my soul,
and infuse the page with it
u mmmmm this is my first poem so dont bully me
I feel like I’m in a dark room
Without light or a sense of direction
I used to be scared by the infinite gloom
But now I know you’re somewhere in it
Have you ever felt so small and insignificant
Consumed by isolation
Severed from the world encompassing you

That feeling is a constant for me
Deep seated in the darkness of my mind
soaking in the sunlight
under the trellis of greenery,
shadows dancing on the face
and warmth lulling to a slumber,
faint music pouring into the ears,
and fleets of feelings unfolding
dancing with the memories,
untold stories peeking behind
the closed lit eyes,
pressing to let out.
Iwo Andrzej
Running from the bottom of the empty bottle
Looking at my veins they're opening a portal
See the reflection in million pieces

Painted in red
I'm alone
at the end
This is the time I need you Jesus
But I've gotta feeling he's freezing us.
fixing a broken mirror, it cuts you open
Blowing my candle out but it's still smoking
I feel alone, so I smile
My room is rotten,
It need your attention
I guess it's easier to buy new stuff when old stuff is broken
in the distance we all go the same way
From the birds perspective, behind the raining clouds it overcrowds

I see
first the bouquet
then a display
My portray
Oh look!
Now they pray!
Now they act like rain, on a sunny day.
Remember the church on next Sunday aswell.
Now I see the 50 shades of grey
Now I understand We only feel loved when we're fading away.
Like rainbows, we only feel our existence on a rainy day.
So I walk my path, with a burden filled with more weight
I need a stronger bag
It's hard when you have no defence, but constantly being under attack
You hear them say death fades to white and peace
But here it's all black, stuck in the midnight. Peace ✌️
You are like ice but I don’t have enough fire to melt you
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.
Murdered soul
Left behind evidence
Pled not guilty
Prosecuted by feelings
When defending the heart
Law of attraction
Judged by actions
Traumatic trial
Due to reasonable doubt
Emotional jury
Based on facts
Imprisoned by love
Served a life sentence
Another random write. Enjoy
Go to sleep tonight,
Dear, then I shall visit you,
In your sweetest dreams.

~ Umi
Don't know when I will be me again?
Sam Clemens
Where do they all go
the unspoken words
Do they melt, into nothingness
burning in the backs of our throats
Or delve into the blue deepness of our thoughts
a sunken treasure
I think they hitch rides
with the hopeless
and the heartbroken
Sitting heavy on shoulders

And I'm walking with the weight of the world
and I'm walking with the weight of the world
Jennifer West
You may shove me
But I will still stand
You may call me weak
But I will still stand
You may say I'm a little girl
But I will stand tall
You may tell me I can't
But I will
Left Foot Poet


each groan
each longing
each nightmare

the semantic fluid
my teeth, my face,
no erasure endures,
tracks of my tears,
skin etched everlasting,
beyond camouflaging.

the weights owned,
that the scale
does not register,
stones of stones,
add to a total
that has no
agreeable total
but is a totalitarian oppression
of all day tongue depressions

oh god,
mercy from the weights
I have impressioned and digested
of own free will,
to misbalance my posture,
crook’d, my soul ever reciped,

stains collected,
each stain
see my markings internal,
you have never seen
until you have seen me
Everything has lost its colour,
Even on the sunny days.
I'm almost certain that the lake used to be bluer,
that your eyes used to burn brighter.

Perhaps it's just a blurry lens,
But I fear my vision's changed
ting is
your           life
thro             ugh
a ne           edle
and         if
you sew
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.
I know not of the stars
but I know your face
I can gift you the moon
But I know you want that cake
Your round face
Staring at me
Your full lips
Trembling as you kiss my knee  
From the window 
The moon looked on eagerly 
as we joyfully devoured our cake.
Nat Lipstadt
Yom Kippur this year was celebrated on Oct. 12th 2016.
Leonard Cohen passed away on November 7, 2016.


faint knocking at the door to the Tower of Song

the ministering angels, hearing a rhythmic, lyrical rapping,
sigh, thinking the atonement day,
the holiday/holy days, are supposedly over,
the human balancing act, the rush to judgement period,
all tallies totaled, the busy sale season for souls,
at last completed, each fate inscribed & sealed,
in the book of life^

but, always one,
the itinerant straggler, the last reluctant sinner, a judgment resister,
flaunting an expired coupon, trumpeting demands for a recount,
waving it, claiming it, the bearer, entitled to a mercy discount and
an extra 30 days

"who shall we say is calling?"

the Angels are stunned to hear,
a familiar raspy, growling, almost indescribable,
yet, stammeringly, beautiful voice enchanting,
equally asking and answering,  how both,
with a strident humility, "a man in search of answers"

this voice, instantaneous recognizable,
the asking superfluous,
all beating wings now, all in vast excitement,
this psalmist, long awaited, one of His best,
a chosen one, a courtly singer in the Temple of his people,
blessed with the curse of seeing and believing,
the comprehension of beauty of the human superior interior,
never being quiet or quite satisfied,
in capturing, its multifarious variations,
in every language spoken

this is the man who took ten years
to compose just
one song,
one poem,
one word,
whose faith was strong,
but still needed proofs,
whose every breath of oxygen inhalation,
brought more questions,
every exhalation, only releasing partial answers,
and yet, still, yes, yes! finding hidden verses inside

a simple, everlasting

the hubbub subsides, the man sings~speaks:
how came I here,
was I one, who by fire?
that fire afeared,  that my finality was spirit consumer?

one voice, answers,
in one voice, the swaying back-up singers answer,
not by fire, not by water, not by stoning or
even drowning
in tea that came from all the way from China

when sing we Angels, the Judgement Day poem,
we alone, on high and above,
we, keepers of the books and records of everyone,
are permitted this to query:

Who by Sufficiency?

you, the sidekick of the creator,
special commissioned by him, anointed to live a life of research,
record in word and song the mysteries of musical gene strings,
that intertwine the skin cells of man and woman,
man and his fellow us-human,
your soul commandeered, ordered, delve deeper,
into the consolable chasm tween divine and mortals,
all those who are poorly constructed
in his image

he, who has earned his place, his best rest,
his works adjudged sufficient,
he, who best answered
this judging, this calling out, callig in

Who by Sufficiency?

now forward on, write only of answers,
wade in the troubled waters no more,
no more passports, or borders to cross,
no more measuring the days,
the last road trip finale
finished & feted,
fate meted

no more changing thy name, changeling priest,^^
sing songs of solution, salvation,
for the questioning hours of confusion,
the urgency of revolution,
no longer need a hallelujah resolution

                                                    ­| | |
Who By Fire                             Who By Fire, Who By Water:^
(lyrics by Leonard Cohen)     (A Yom Kippur Hebrew Prayer)

who by fire                             How many shall die and      

who by water,                                how many shall born,
Who in the sunshine,                 Who shall live      
who in the night time,                   who shall die,                      
Who by high                                Who at the measure of days,
who by common trial,                    and who before,
Who in your merry                            
                                                          Who by fire
month of May,                                 and who by water
Who by very                                 Who by sword,
slow decay,                                       and who by wild beasts,
And who shall I                      Who by hunger,
say is calling?                              and who by thirst,

And who in her,                           Who by earthquake
lonely slip,                                         and who by plague
who by barbiturate,                      Who by strangling,
Who in these                                    and who by stoning
realms of love,                               Who shall have rest,

who by,                                             and who shall go wandering,
something blunt,                            Who will be tranquil,
And who by avalanche,                  and who shall be harassed,
who by powder,                            Who shall be at ease,
Who for his greed,                           and who shall be afflicted,
who for his hunger,                      Who shall become rich,
And who shall I,                             and who shall become poor,
say is calling?                                Who will be raised high,
                                                         ­     and who will be brought low
And who by brave assent,                  
who by accident,
Who in solitude,
who in this mirror,
Who by,
his lady's command,
who by his own hand,
Who in mortal chains,
who in power,
And who shall I,
say is calling?

^From the liturgy of Rosh Hasanah, the Jewish New Year and Yom Kippur, the  Day of Atonement, there is this truly stunning prayer ( in the Jewish liturgy. The Book of Life contents the fate of every sinner. From the first day of the new year, until ten days later, on Yom Kippur, depending on whether the sinner repents or not, his fate is sealed.
Yom Kippur this year was celebrated on Oct. 12th 2016.

Leonard Cohen passed away on November 7, 2016.

^^"A Kohens ancestors were priests in the Temple of Jerusalem. A single such priest was known as a Kohen, and the hereditary caste descending from these priests is collectively known as the Kohanim.[2] As multiple languages were acquired through the Jewish diaspora, the surname acquired many variations." Today, with no temple, the limited role of the Kohanim is to bless the Jewish people on the high holy days with a  special prayer with abeloved tune,  instantly evocative (see The Kohanim are still revered, honored, and always called up first to the Sabbath reading of the weekly portion of the Old Testament

A thank you to Bex for proofing and encouragement.
Part I of a trilogy
For a  more detailed analysis of the roots of the song, "Who By Fire," and its origins, see:

He worked on the song Hallelujah, arguably his most famous composition, for ten years.
on your last day
the sun was shining
and big white clouds ran across the sky

someone held you tight
and told you, "i love you"
admired you
and cherished you

on your last day
all of your love poured out

you inspired
and you soared
you lived
and you died

your love remains
Jon Thenes
I corpse the lie
with lively brilliance
and placed detail

I panel over the guilt
a quilt that I don’t heal

I maintain none of the muscle ticks
or gestures
that engaging humans fashion

Nothing shows
as I
in simple say
I Love You

It’s a glove I wear
and bare for you
so that I may keep your company
which I value over most things
Playing human
Acquiring good company
Our meeting was a catalyst
that birthed a love so
deep and true that it
transformed our lives
in an instant

Even though our physical
reality brought seperation
our souls were never apart
as it knew of no other
dimension than being together

Life brings us these
beautiful gifts wrapped
up in all kinds of packages
but it is only when our
hearts are open that we
can recognize them.

Next page