Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 424° 
Derrick Jones
Perform
Per form
Performing
Per forming
Putting yourself into a form, forming
Putting your intangible, expansive, nebulous, spiraling, luminous being
Into a format
Expressing yourself in a way that transmits
A form that transmits
Per forming
Per form
Perform
For more poetry and essays, follow my blog on Medium at https://medium.com/words-ideas-thoughts
Thanks for reading!
The sun is setting
It's getting cold, dear
Take my hand,
I'll lead the way
Out of this place
To the sea
Or the Land
To the end
We'll drive all the way
Until we can't see
The shades of our town
Chasing us any longer
A poem every day
8/6/20

If my life had a theme song it would be "Romance" by MCR
 187° 
beth haze
I've been uploading a poem a day for a bit now but for some reason every time I've tried to this weekend it gives an error message.
Anyone else experiencing errors on the site?
Help!
 162° 
Left Foot Poet
morning contradictories: mourning our poems, falling stars


awaken to a sunshiny Saturday,
the lazys, their coverlet of flowers,
inhibit our movements, now, as it nears
high noon, we have yet from our bed stir

August has be-come, the grass pockets
of gray and green, swaths of sunburn brown,
reveal how far along the North American
summer has poetry passed, irretrievable

reading your messages and notes from
world over, lazy licking you poems so many,
delighting, ponderous and oft heroic, as well,
weeping as too many become fallen stars

each grass blade, from earth born and returned,
the nutrients preserved in our sandy soil, intended
to nurture next summer’s poesy new birthrights,
green+browned, weep+smile, mutual contradictories

these poem best friends, passing by each other at lifecycle’s
multi-paths, metaphors for our too many morning stirrings,
most to be falling like stars that, though in motion, need not
come to rest ever, their movement attracts a one…lasting look

it nears noon, it nears this poem’s timely finishing touch,
straighten its tie, smooth its skirted pleats, a forehead
implant kiss goodbye, sent on its way to find its own weight,
no parent ere admit, it leaves, with tear-burst showers falling…

August 1
2020

noon
 150° 
Donna
I love my family
There truly amazing
I’m a proud mummy wife and friend

❤️❤️❤️❤️
Inspired by my amazing family x today we all done a charity  run  (A charity close to our hearts) it was fun with lots of smiles ***
 142° 
Nimisha Rana
I saw you standing there
I know you cannot bear
With weary eyes and skin so dry
You looked down wanting to cry

You want to hide in unknown places
Kept running away from your fears
Covering up your ears
To the words you don't want to hear

Storming days suddenly passed
You didn't moved until the sunlight flashed
You looked up and surveyed the sky
Finally found a reason to smile
Follow my writings on instagram @_spread _u_r_wings
 136° 
jeffrey conyers
You love me?
Really?
I sought of had that feeling.

You love me?
For real?
I knew it because of this feeling within my mind.

For some strange feeling, I was attracted to you.
I just had to have this feeling you was attracted too.
 92° 
Rushil
I want to save this Princess from Zimbabwe --
because she tells me it is my destiny,
and it is all in the email she sent me.

I want to save this Princess from Zimbabwe --
because she possesses many Riches,
and she has promised me all of them.

I want to save this Princess from Zimbabwe --
from her wretched uncle,
who will steal her wealth and lock her away.

I would save this Princess from Zimbabwe --
but she only needs my Government ID,
Bank Account and Social Security.
 64° 
Chad Tannous
August 7th 2020

a baby was born in beirut, the day the bad thing happened. the mother named her revolution.

journalist bio: 🇱🇧🇺🇸👁
stop giving money to lebanon’s corrupt government
 63° 
Desire
you,
and me,
we are,
unified souls,
simply, united,
an unbreakable set,
underway, sailing,
like ship and sea,
this two-way street,
you,
and me,
we are,
us. [one].
XVI. Committed
 62° 
drey
good luck to you, my friend
their words are more wounding than their
fists will ever be
 62° 
Khoi-San
Rain drops a drawstring

tugging
at
my heart my soul

and
my
inner child
 57° 
Diya
My Childhood
Feels like
A child's storybook
That
I love to read
Even in my teen years

Thanks for reading:)
 57° 
Lauramihaela
When it rains
And I am happy
I know I am at peace.
When it rains
And I am not
I know storms are brewing within.
The inside and the outside
Are connected more
Often than we think.
 55° 
Salmabanu Hatim
She
Handle with care,
Fragile,
.
.
.
.
.
Like a bomb.
9/8/2020
 53° 
Maniacal Escape
Waking the void,
Blacker than black.
Emptier than empty.
The void is awake.
And empty.
 53° 
clementine
kiss me under the rain.
put me in a trance where i couldn't escape.
baby, lock me in your heart.
 51° 
Amanda
And then I saw it,
At dusk, beating its small wings.
A guest from heaven.
My grandma passed away a few weeks ago, and today would've been her 88th birthday. She loved hummingbirds. I saw one today, at dusk, while talking on the phone with my aunt. It felt like a sign from her that she was okay, and that's she with me.
 43° 
luciana
a shallow girl
with innocent eyes
she holds the
element of surprise
came up with this while on the toilet. i am not ashamed
 43° 
Stacy Mills
I am just a phase
A temporary object in people's lives
I am option
No one's priority
If I'm that easily thrown away
why do I even exist
and we
won't just
  survive
    but we'll
      thrive till
        we're five
           and make
              peace with
                 our hearts
                     till we're
                         feeling
                              alive
                                   and my
                                        puppy-
                                               eyed
                                                     lover
                                                            will talk
                                                                   to the
                                                                          sky and
                                                                               we'll drift
                                                                                      through the
                                                                                              night till
                                                                                                      we're free
Living in the glory God...
I feel amiss.. its mercy stationed...
Its hurts my nature..
But curves my greatness...
Feeling worthless. .
And less than sacred...
Because im second place? Yeah What is this?
Set it straight. And beg forgiveness...
I'm less than great..
But my decision..
Is to make or break... my final wishes...
 35° 
Bree
I’m addicted to the feel of cold metal sliding across bare flesh
Addicted to the instant
when nothing marks smooth skin
immediately before
red rivers rapidly rise
painting a once white canvas
with a flood of emotion,
tears on my cheeks,
sobs caught in my throat,
numbness replaced by pain & sadness.
Addicted to the imperfection
of red welts and dotted scabs that follow,
fingers drawn like magnets
to the texture of healing skin,
tracing over and over and over now fading ridges
Amazed that I am strong enough
to heal myself over and over and over.
Convincing myself that I am strong enough.
I find strength in my weakness.
6 months self harm free! Writing about it helps fight the urge
 34° 
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
 33° 
Emily
Thinking about getting a tattoo
But, I take pause...
Looking in the mirror
I see my body’s already covered
Marked in invisible ink
Every inch of my bare skin
Painted with the joy and pain of living
From my heart to my hips
Color faded here, but poppin’ over there
Memories designed by your hands
Others etched on my own
A collection that makes me smile
Among a few pieces I regret
So, about getting a tattoo...
I guess I’m not ready
Because I can’t think of a tattoo
Meaningful enough, yet
To write over any of the life I’ve lived
 32° 
Anton
Books desire to be read,
Songs desire to be sang,
Dreams desire to be fullfilled,
Hearts desire to be loved;
-so does mine.
 31° 
Mrs Timetable
Some days you feel like that best seller
Up front, all glorious on display

Some days you feel like you’re in the the 90% off bin...
(Only needed to prop a door open)
Ups and downs... but you’re  still priceless
 31° 
Rupert Pip
You catch life
one tear at a time
to one day
fill an ocean.
I heard you liked short poems, so here's one for you.
 31° 
muna
Why does it always feel like
no one's listening
when I talk?
I'm never loud enough..
 30° 
Rupert Pip
Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.
Get to know me like I do you; inside and out.
 27° 
Surkhab kaur
I don't wish the power to be in hands of a woman
I don't wish the power to be in hands of a man
The world will be a better place...
only when millions of beings will be seen as one.



This is what the the feminist said.
"If you stand for equality,then you are a feminist.
Sorry to tell you."
                                    -Emma Watson
Usually we are mistaken between a feminist and a misandrist.
A feminist is a person (not a woman...it can be a woman as well as man)
who believes in equal rights of men and women. But in our society feminists are considered to be misanderists i.e a woman who hates men. We cannot forget that during the first feminist movement in 1848 in Seneca Falls, New York, 3oo men supported feminism in this movement. We should not have any problem with a misandrist or misgynist ( a man who hates women) because that's there personal choice...we don't know under which circumstances they reached this hatered.
Because even a woman can be a monster
and even a man can be an angel.
 27° 
REY
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.
 26° 
Flower C
Heaven rained on me,
I breathed in the petrichor,
Bathed in the downpour.
I have sinned,
So destroy me,
With your rain.
 25° 
HaleyBoo
The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do?

It wasn’t letting you go.

That was difficult though, to swallow my pride and wear a smile to hide the fact I’m not okay.

Oh no, the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do? Was finally admit to myself the truth.

It was admitting that you were never mine to begin with.
 25° 
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)
 25° 
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.
 24° 
amanda
i looked down
twenty three stories

tears in my eyes
legs shaking

every intention
of falling head first

you see— i was just so tired
of having to land
on my feet
so many people
are so tired
of having to be so strong
 23° 
erin
what does it feel like to be held
not by another body
not by a set of limbs, a chest, a chin
but
by another soul

what does it feel like
to see truth in another pair of eyes
instead of hidden intentions
instead of absence

what does it feel like
to hear a familiar heartbeat
resounding next to your own
reaching through skin
through bone
two rhythms
indistinguishable

what does it feel like
to write poems about
a love that exists
 23° 
Jenn
I smoked to fill my lungs
to **** the flowers that grew there
the ones you planted last december
Next page