Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 1910° 
Kalliope
I cradle hurricanes in my ribcage
while words swirl around my head.
I try to catch the good ones-
but mostly, I wish I was dead.

I do everything too much-
the joy, the sorrow, the dread.
Yet somehow, I’m never enough-
what a curious truth to be force fed.

If I laugh, it’s always too loud;
my mouth too sharp to make anyone proud.
Crying is a dangerous game,
I could sob away a city, drown in the blame.

My rage leaves no survivors,
as if I line people up on personal pyres.
When I vent, they hear preaching-
a sermon no one wants, a fear of my leeching.

I don’t love, I dissect-
obsessively search for the trap I expect.
I can’t just leave; I burn it all down-
the bubbly, funny girl wears a permanent frown.

I do too much and my inner child feels seen,
She's acting out, we aren't this mean
I just get scared when the vibe is off, and ruining the mood makes the blow more soft.

Despite the chaos I still crave love, an equal partner, wearing fireproof gloves.
If I weather your storms, could you handle mine?
Storm chasers have never been easy to find.
 1255° 
Peter Gerstenmaier
Roses are red
Netanyahu is a swine
I pray to the Lord for
A free Palestine
🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸
 674° 
Ted
What's written,
isn't smitten,
with love as
a timely bus,
and the lust,
is sitting,
on an eye,
of denial,
like a flannel,
in the bath-room.

What's my beef,
its the golden reef,
of all this pretending
how does it help the kids?
Their so and of Loneliness,
"Hey, you're one tough kid."

It doesn't pass the swings,
wishing for a friendly voice,
but the nearby trains
and the subtle of the rain,
Its denial and impressionist
and yet she is your exploitative

Undeniably, she stands and falls,
like a crumbling of no tall,
and none of this is sincerely
like a fake of considering them.

What once stood,
is killing them.
And the media
is killing them,
The internet
Is killing them
Pretenders
are killing them.

I stand before the wolves and the creeps
and I declare myself unable to weep,
No, I won't be a victim and exploitative
and swaying as storms amongst the fleet.

I can make just one promise,
I'll never feel so guilty,
for others' trespassing sins
I can only swear on this,
but ****** are the children,
that need our protection.
History of abuse of this,
cannot excuse repeatedly
or even for one second.
 385° 
Agnes de Lods
I ended up at the wrong time,
in the wrong place,
carrying a dead flashlight,
that instead of shining,
offered me an elusive shape—
a spectacle of shadows.

What was a hand
became a dog barking on the wall,
or a ghost-rabbit
vanishing into nothingness.

My rational “I” still asks why,
and I have no answer.
I just smile with sadness:
that was the script,
that had to happen.

Bittersweet medicine,
already swallowed,
the side effects dissolved.
And I boarded another train,

Writing?
I only wanted an ordinary life,
with some humor
and a pinch of self-irony.

Saturn joined,
Saturn divided,
at 8:18 a.m.

Maybe we humans
don’t have the stillness
to break free from the pattern
of silver rings
made of dust and ice,
imposed by an ego.

Maybe we prefer
the safety of the shadow,
ice melts in daylight.

My story:
a new-old flat,
my imperfect poems…
Really?
For this, I was made?

I’m not a poet.
I’m a living voice,
taming incomprehension
convincing myself
that dawn is near,
and I’m strong enough to rise,
not looking anymore
for cold mirrors.
 377° 
mysterie
~~
the moon is a whisper

on my bedroom wall,

she's ten times louder in my head

...

her name is a tide

it pulls,

it tugs,

it etches itself

on the inside of my eyelids

...

every blink is a memory i didn't ask for

her laugh-

uninvited

but welcome

always

...

the bed is too big

for one body and this much longing

some nights

sleep forgets me

other nights

she replaces it
i hope she knows how much she makes me spiral, ive never wrote poetry. ever. this is new, because of her.

date wrote: 19/6/25
 349° 
Jayami
Turmoil chokes me,
Hideous flames burn me within
As I stand coward-like and helpless
Gazing at the walls caving in

Bright colours in my periphery, I see
Hurrying past me whispering curses
For I have murdered and ripped them apart
Yet again, for the millionth time
 318° 
Jeremy Betts
I yearn for a chain of moments to be myself
By myself
Just me and no one else
Why then do I put those thoughts in a jar
With no air holes
On an out of reach shelf?
And expect it not to
Affect my mental health
Solitary has it's value
While family and popularity
Can be an overvalued wealth

©2025
 260° 
Ian
if all of earth's creatures were blind,
would color still exist?
 230° 
Damocles
She smells of lilac and lemon
A side note of lavender and honey
Immediately parched, parsed for words
I am hungry.

Her voice was breathy and melodious.
Like the songs of robins or sparrows,
Caught in a cacophony of words —
Bouncing along my ears, popping like ticklish bubbles.

I am lost in her,
Like a labyrinth,
With each turn I take I find myself
Finger trailing more curves,
Finding my grip along the creases of soft skin.

A simple smile,
Feels like I am ice facing the sun —
Melting in an instance
A puddle of wet, watery mess
Caught formless to her elegance.

Our lips meet,
Magnetic attraction,
Glued silken colored contrasts
Ruby red, and pale peach
Collide as tongues joust for dominance.

She tastes like
Cantaloupe mixed with salt and caramel,
Wild berries in yogurt,
Savory, sweet, fruit like
Intoxicating like margaritas or too many appletinis
I’m floating on weak knees,
Captivated and drunk from her radiant being.

And as the night passes,
And the dim lights shoot aflame,
I am there as her sensuality flows like an artery vein
And I dare to bite in, and drain her for a while,
Aloft lost in her like a wandering vagrant
She’ll take me home, and treat me like all the other strays.
Romance and nuance are what I'm all about these days.
i am the only one here
and i stand in your place

occupy your shadow
the sun on my face

is your sun
the breath i breathe

is your breath
overhead kites of birds spin

tethered to earth by invisible strings
tonight the sky will blaze with stars

they will be your stars
the moon almost complete

will be your moon
i will be the only one there

standing in your place
 203° 
nivek
brazen as brazen is
constantly practised
in the sight of all
 197° 
Sophia
the rift between
knowing someone
and
understanding someone
is only crossed with
the experience of
selfless intention
and
boundless love
 186° 
Kairos
Love them nonetheless
Saving the world
Only to show
The validation they seek
Friendship family help
 181° 
False Poets
when you understand my poems perfectly then,

their utility is inutile,
their usefulness is, will. always be, in the

nth  

reinterpretation, a million and still counting,
as long as you must guess at its labyrinth inner wired construct,
be pleasured by the roiled and rolled curves upon your tongue,
two lives (yours, mine), a paired wine tasting, we together,
believing in the greatness of joyous frustration

some say, as I do, the world is better for the
utility of thine own struggled understanding,
the truest combination of two way communication,
surpassed only by our at last armed embrace,

when at last we understand our mutuality of need and salve...
 174° 
ap0calyps3
They say love hurts
mine kills me
stabs my heart
until I bleed
 168° 
Germaine
Tell me about your painting
how it adorns your skin,
call it art,
as your flesh rips apart,
the blood soon sinks in.

Tell me about the constellations,
about the ripples in the waves.
Let my finger trace your arms
gently,
guiding through the stars
as you turn your face away.

Let the night be one,
together we can be as dark as the setting sun.
Let me kiss my lips, to your scars
memories flow jaggedly, afar.
 167° 
dropwort
I find it funny
when I really think I own my life,
but reality-
she always finds a way to wake me up
from my dream world
just to tell me that my wings were cutoff long ago...
 160° 
TOD HOWARD HAWKS
TOD HOWARD HAWKS
 159° 
Emma
...
I sit there in my room each night
Wondering if this is what life is supposed to feel like

In my room, I cry alone
Just wishing I was ever known

I sit there on my comforting little bed
My safe place, crying till my eyes get red

I have a family, friends and more
But feel like i'm locked in a cage behind my door

I sit there on my bed every night
Just praying for me to feel alright

I put a smile for everyone there
Pushing down this feeling of despair

What’s life is like for others, I wonder every night
Just dreaming, in my bed, trying to feel alright

I sit there in my room each night
Wondering if this is what life is supposed to feel like
 147° 
Nobody
i'm afraid that i'm going to turn into you
i don't want to hurt people like that
i know everyone is afraid to become their parents but i really don't want to ruin someones life
 146° 
Sanji-Paul Arvind
I see her shine in the sun's embrace,
I see her face in the moon’s pleasant grace.
I feel her presence in the soft air,
I sense her warmth in the fire’s flare,
I taste her spirit in the flowing stream,
Each moment with her, a cherished dream.

I see her beauty in every bloom,
I feel her in the rain's sweet loom.
I feel her fury in summer's heat,
Yet miss her warmth when winter's chill greets,
And long for her hugs when evening comes near,
A comfort found in every soft tear.

I want her comfort when the world feels wide,
I want her as Joy in every rising tide.
I need her smile when disgust takes hold,
And wish for her surprise when my path is cold,
For every heartbeat, till the final breath,
I’ll carry her light, even beyond death.

By
Sanji-Paul Arvind
 140° 
Damocles
I promise I’m not trying to tear you from your energy
Shadows dancing in you like your enemies
A matinee of all your memories
Ping pong nerves trying to tear you out of me
Still beating despite the scars etched in effigy.

I still see you when the lights get low,
Glad you haunt me even I can do this on my own
Got a few demons on my shoulder keeping company.
I’d give you my soul but it’s out on loan
Signed documents to give me closure
If only for exposure
Penning my words a one way discourse
Discussed in my disgust, but who am I to bemoan?

I’m just traveling on distant shores,
Sinking to the bottom,
Losing myself in lore
Pretense in my pretend
My fiction is makeup over the real
A bruise concealed
But the truth revealed is my pain is raw like a bad tooth
Exposed like a nerve root
Play violin chords in my heart strings
And watch as I dissipate.

Do you still see me when the light gets low?
Do you know I haunt you when you’re on your own?
Glad to keep you company
Spare me a moment for your sympathy
As we mourn in morning light
And give me the night, the night, the night .
Sometimes you wear masks to hide the real pain and sometimes you feel like a ghost because you’re so lost in the fiction of pretending to be ok.
 136° 
Pri
I bite.
Not with teeth.
with silence,
with sharp glances,
with walls built higher than your reach.

I’m not cruel.
I’m just tired
of being kind first
and torn apart second.

You call it attitude.
I call it armor.
Because being soft
never saved me.
It only made the fall hurt more.

So I speak less now.
Agree less.
Trust less.
I pull away before someone has the chance
to walk out first.

It’s not that I don’t want love.
I’ve learned that even “I care about you”
can come with conditions.
Even soft hands
can leave bruises
you can’t see.

I bite
because once,
I didn’t.
And it nearly broke me.
(inspired by Isle of Dogs)
 123° 
Karen
At dusk a half moon
In solitude she is whole
Sweet the path ahead
Modern heiku
 122° 
The Invisible Poet
the way you talk enraptures me
all I can focus on is you
and listen to what you saying
your big brown eyes
are mesmerizing
you have such a bright
and happy personality
you're so kind and funny
your art is incredible
your smile is infectious
and beautiful
I've never met someone like you
I wish I could lose my hearing
So I didn't have to hear your laugh
So I didn't have to hear you talking
So I didn't have to hear you

I wish I could lose my smell
So I didn't have to smell your hair
So I didn't have to smell your perfume
So I didn't have to smell you

I wish I could lose my sight
So I didn't have to see your face and smile
So I didn't have to see the places we went
So I didn't have to see you

I wish I could forget you
Not because I hate you
Not because it wasn't fun
But because
Every time I hear you
Every time I smell you
Every time I see you
I die a little more
Because I love them all to death
I bleed a little more
Because I love you to until the end
And it all reminds me of you
The one I can't have
 96° 
Dency
I have all this love
And nowhere to put it
It's rotting inside me
Soft,warm
Unspent.

I reach out in dreams
But wake up alone
His name buried in my throat
Like a secret
I was not allowed to say.

He didn't stay
But the love did
And now it grows wild
Inside a heart
With no one left
To give it to.
 92° 
Nat Lipstadt
when you poem me,
and the sudden tumble
into a mesmerizing moment,
is a felling of a tree, that
everyone can hear, anywhere,
forest everywhere,
suddenly, I will know you,
no introduction required...
to be with you, and save my
day, my heart stolen, and to my
captor, I hereby surrender,
capitulate completely, quick quiet,
and we are three thrilled together, a triumphant triumvirate,
for each other and a unity of
1 + 1= 3

is a new counting,
a unique
formulation
a formidable forming

a mutual following,

a fellowship

nml
Weds.
June 18 3025
In the sunroom
 84° 
Maria Etre
My eyes need new stories
for my heart
to write
 82° 
MeanAileen
Oh how you torture
depriving me of sweet dreams...
your snores irk the dead
I'm sick of sleeping on the couch
 82° 
Lyteweaver
Lay down your defenses
You will not be able to resist this
Put away your weapons and take down
your protective fences
It's wasted energy to fight what's
pulling you
Discard your layers of armor
This arrow already penetrated your heart
Drop the shield trying to deflect
kindness coming your way
Lift off your helmet
to make room for your crown
Your spear is useless now
Here you stand naked and bare
willing to accept this love you've found
We can be warriors
Stronger together
An unbeatable pair
Fighting demons
Slaying dragons
And leading a path to victory with
the energy
we share
The question is
"Do you Dare?"
Sonnet.


Elle part, mais je veux, à mon amour fidèle,
La garder tout entière en un pieux portrait,
Portrait naïf où rien ne me sera soustrait
Des grâces, des défauts, chers aussi, du modèle.

Arrière les pinceaux ! sur la toile cruelle
Le profane idéal du peintre sourirait :
C'est elle que je veux, c'est elle trait pour trait,
Belle d'une beauté que seul je vois en elle.

Mais, ô soleil, ami qui la connais le mieux,
Qui prêtes à son cœur, quand nous sommes ensemble
Tes rayons les plus purs pour luire dans ses yeux,

Artiste dont la main ne cherche ni ne tremble,
Viens toi-même au miroir que je t'offre imprimer
Chacun de ces rayons qui me la font aimer.
Non, sous quelque drapeau que le barde se range,
La muse sert sa gloire et non ses passions !
Non, je n'ai pas coupé les ailes de cet ange
Pour l'atteler hurlant au char des factions !
Non, je n'ai point couvert du masque populaire
Son front resplendissant des feux du saint parvis,
Ni pour fouetter et mordre, irritant sa colère,
Changé ma muse en Némésis !

D'implacables serpents je ne l'ai point coiffée ;
Je ne l'ai pas menée une verge à la main,
Injuriant la gloire avec le luth d'Orphée,
Jeter des noms en proie au vulgaire inhumain.
Prostituant ses vers aux clameurs de la rue,
Je n'ai pas arraché la prêtresse au saint lieu ;
A ses profanateurs je ne l'ai pas vendue,
Comme Sion vendit son Dieu !

Non, non : je l'ai conduite au fond des solitudes,
Comme un amant jaloux d'une chaste beauté ;
J'ai gardé ses beaux pieds des atteintes trop rudes
Dont la terre eût blessé leur tendre nudité :
J'ai couronné son front d'étoiles immortelles,
J'ai parfumé mon coeur pour lui faire un séjour,
Et je n'ai rien laissé s'abriter sous ses ailes
Que la prière et que l'amour !

L'or pur que sous mes pas semait sa main prospère
N'a point payé la vigne ou le champ du potier ;
Il n'a point engraissé les sillons de mon père
Ni les coffres jaloux d'un avide héritier :
Elle sait où du ciel ce divin denier tombe.
Tu peux sans le ternir me reprocher cet or !
D'autres bouches un jour te diront sur ma tombe
Où fut enfoui mon trésor.

Je n'ai rien demandé que des chants à sa lyre,
Des soupirs pour une ombre et des hymnes pour Dieu,
Puis, quand l'âge est venu m'enlever son délire,
J'ai dit à cette autre âme un trop précoce adieu :
"Quitte un coeur que le poids de la patrie accable !
Fuis nos villes de boue et notre âge de bruit !
Quand l'eau pure des lacs se mêle avec le sable,
Le cygne remonte et s'enfuit."

Honte à qui peut chanter pendant que Rome brûle,
S'il n'a l'âme et la lyre et les yeux de Néron,
Pendant que l'incendie en fleuve ardent circule
Des temples aux palais, du Cirque au Panthéon !
Honte à qui peut chanter pendant que chaque femme
Sur le front de ses fils voit la mort ondoyer,
Que chaque citoyen regarde si la flamme
Dévore déjà son foyer !

Honte à qui peut chanter pendant que les sicaires
En secouant leur torche aiguisent leurs poignards,
Jettent les dieux proscrits aux rires populaires,
Ou traînent aux égouts les bustes des Césars !
C'est l'heure de combattre avec l'arme qui reste ;
C'est l'heure de monter au rostre ensanglanté,
Et de défendre au moins de la voix et du geste
Rome, les dieux, la liberté !

La liberté ! ce mot dans ma bouche t'outrage ?
Tu crois qu'un sang d'ilote est assez pur pour moi,
Et que Dieu de ses dons fit un digne partage,
L'esclavage pour nous, la liberté pour toi ?
Tu crois que de Séjan le dédaigneux sourire
Est un prix assez noble aux coeurs tels que le mien,
Que le ciel m'a jeté la bassesse et la lyre,
A toi l'âme du citoyen ?

Tu crois que ce saint nom qui fait vibrer la terre,
Cet éternel soupir des généreux mortels,
Entre Caton et toi doit rester un mystère ;
Que la liberté monte à ses premiers autels ?
Tu crois qu'elle rougit du chrétien qui l'épaule,
Et que nous adorons notre honte et nos fers
Si nous n'adorons pas ta liberté jalouse
Sur l'autel d'airain que tu sers ?

Détrompe-toi, poète, et permets-nous d'être hommes !
Nos mères nous ont faits tous du même limon,
La terre qui vous porte est la terre où nous sommes,
Les fibres de nos coeurs vibrent au même son !
Patrie et liberté, gloire, vertu, courage,
Quel pacte de ces biens m'a donc déshérité ?
Quel jour ai-je vendu ma part de l'héritage,
Esaü de la liberté ?

Va, n'attends pas de moi que je la sacrifie
Ni devant vos dédains ni devant le trépas !
Ton Dieu n'est pas le mien, et je m'en glorifie :
J'en adore un plus grand qui ne te maudit pas !
La liberté que j'aime est née avec notre âme,
Le jour où le plus juste a bravé le plus fort,
Le jour où Jehovah dit au fils de la femme :
" Choisis, des fers ou de la mort ! "

Que ces tyrans divers, dont la vertu se joue,
Selon l'heure et les lieux s'appellent peuple ou roi,
Déshonorent la pourpre ou salissent la boue,
La honte qui les flatte est la même pour moi !
Qu'importe sous quel pied se courbe un front d'esclave !
Le joug, d'or ou de fer, n'en est pas moins honteux !
Des rois tu l'affrontas, des tribuns je le brave :
Qui fut moins libre de nous deux ?

Fais-nous ton Dieu plus beau, si tu veux qu'on l'adore ;
Ouvre un plus large seuil à ses cultes divers !
Repousse du parvis que leur pied déshonore
La vengeance et l'injure aux portes des enfers !
Ecarte ces faux dieux de l'autel populaire,
Pour que le suppliant n'y soit pas insulté !
Sois la lyre vivante, et non pas le Cerbère
Du temple de la Liberté !

Un jour, de nobles pleurs laveront ce délire ;
Et ta main, étouffant le son qu'elle a tiré,
Plus juste arrachera des cordes de ta lyre
La corde injurieuse où la haine a vibré !
Mais moi j'aurai vidé la coupe d'amertume
Sans que ma lèvre même en garde un souvenir ;
Car mon âme est un feu qui brûle et qui parfume
Ce qu'on jette pour la ternir.
 70° 
Mario Benedetti
Mujer estatua / tu historia
azul verde malva roja
quedó blanca de congoja
extenuada y sin memoria

mujer estatua / por suerte
fuiste hueso / carne fuiste
y sin embargo qué triste
es tenerte y no tenerte

mujer con lluvia y pasado
avara de tus mercedes
ojalá escampe y te quedes
para siempre de este lado

mujer de sal y rocío
tu corazón sigue en celo
y tu voz está de duelo
como la tierra y el río

no olvides que no se olvida
hacia atrás o hacia adelante
ya el castigo fue bastante
reincorpórate a la vida

con audacia / sin alertas
con razón o sin motivo
mujer de lot / te prohíbo
que en estatua te conviertas

mujer otra / diferente
si no fuera juez y parte
jugaría a desnudarte
lentamente / lentamente.
 66° 
badwords
I do not know your name—
only your silhouette
etched in the echo of things I was not given.
Your absence was my alphabet.
I spelled every woman with your ghost.


They loved me.
But I loved you through them.
Your hands behind their voices.
Your eyes haunting their praise.
They were flesh, and I was kneeling.


I made gods of strangers.
I made homes of hunger.


Mother—not mother.
Lover—not lover.
I could not hold the difference.
They all became symbols
and I became a shrinekeeper,
tending lies with tenderness.


Forgive me,
those I touched but never saw.
I was trying to reach through you
and forgot you were not them.
And they were not you.
None of you asked for this altar.


I am dismantling the myth.
I am returning the light.
Young and undisputed right for living
From beginning of creation
Life punishes with corruption
Eternity not accomplished soon enough

Only few years have passed
Life get strenuous and unsolvable
Persistence decapitates patience
Creation of morality is continuous
Moral ability engages maturity

Creating deception becomes inevitable
Creativity is an understanding of sanity
Baffled by obstacles endures constant emotion

Decapitation of reality consumes it self
I am not here for forgiveness
I am not here for flowers
I am not here for you
I am , as I will ever be

Adrian v
06/18/2025
 63° 
Wanderlust
You scarred my heart
and now it stains your hands
smiling with your lips closed
to hide the blood staining your teeth

You lied about me
like what we had never happened
hiding the stains on your skin
from all the marks you gave me

The longer it goes on
the less you can hide from
tripping over your words
and we both know your alibi is falling apart

You can't smile forever
while hiding the blood on your teeth
the marks won't fade
because you can't wash me away

You broke me and left
like I was nothing
and now my blood stains
and you can't hide it

You tried to fix it
like your hands were still clean
but forgetting is not the same
as forgiving

You can't hide from what you've done
because I know
and you'll never be able to just
wash away the blood on your hands

Every mistake you made
stains your skin
and some day
you won't be able to hide anymore

So I'll leave quietly
polite and with my head bowed
but I'll never kneel to you again
because I know the red you hide

You smile with your lips closed
but one day they'll see
the blood you hide
and you can't drag me down with you
Stained by Linkin Park has me in a chokehold so I wrote this
 62° 
Brandon
The aroma filled with a thick smoke
The campfire vastly burning the oak
The feeling of the soft breeze
The sound of the shuffling trees
The guitar, wind, and people singing
The two hammocks swinging
The laughing and gleeful smiles
The joyous break from life’s trials
The moon shining in the sky
The moonlight’s glare in my eye
The stars twinkling bright
The wounds healed to a perfect night
 62° 
Pyrrha
When you bought me flowers
every petal felt like a debt,
a heavy weight in a fragile vase.

Sunflowers, because they were yellow
I said they were my favorite like the color—
perhaps just to comply, to appease.

But truly, I like roses
in all their simplicity,
no hidden promises.

Will a bouquet ever feel the same
or are all flowers
just silent obligations?

I shy from kindness offered too quickly
wondering what it's meant to buy.
Next page