Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Donall Dempsey

this one perfect moment
time rearing up like a wave
that never ever breaks

the train's scream
the dog's bark
chiselled into the silence

dancing to
the bandstand's music
a flock of flags

writing themselves...unwriting themselves
across a page of sky

this moment
flees from time
claims sanctuary in my mind
time seemingly halts
with worldly wisdom bestowed
in blessed silence
Paul Idiaghe
as autumn plants her feet,
cities burst into smoke, shades
and silence, until I can only sit
& grieve as a ruby-dream fades

into the mist; tell me this is earth
breaking feasts to mark the birth
of our bond, tell me this remains
the season where hearts rain

like leaves as they, as we, fall
in love beneath golden trees
& we'll only need to loosen our all
to cling tighter than we please;

tell me that when the perils flee,
you'll return, arms open-- tell me.
To say that the metaphysical mystique of the human race
is an imaginary condition is a gross denial of evolutional
principle .  What then is the nature of problematic prosthesis,
the personification of sartorial perfection , or the picturesque
visage of spectral grace ?
Impertinence important, inadvertency inaplicable, initiate innate interpreters intervene intricacy.  Inane inerte, inertia innate: carousel ceaselessly ceremony chaos character chrisma, harpy harsh hast severities, emanate imminent perdition asperities.  Down here at the bizarre bazaar we all believe in the blasphemous farcical fugueness, estranged ensemble orchestrations and all.  We are even into the various assorted forms of related stranger weirdness.  Similar states of analogous contusion and ancillary subordinateness.
Bethany M P
The sand shifts beneath your feet,
Your heart relaxes to a quiet beat,
The waters seem to breathe day and night,
Close your eyes take it in do not fight,
The wind satisfies your soul,
Just relax now you've played your role,
Touch the sand now scoop it up,
Hold it in your hands and form a cup,
Now let it seep through towards the sandy ground,
Your soul was lost but now its found,
The weather you desire will come your way,
Just stand closer to the bay,
Soon life will be eternal for you and me,
Look beyond the ocean and tell me what you see.
                          -open heart poetry
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
No matter who you are
You have my deepest respect!
You have
as many chances
as you allow yourself.
Take one of them to be better.
gary szmyd
The morning sun, oh feel the warm
              The brightness as it gives itself
              To the proudest and the lowliest form
              As radiated celestial  health

              It does not discriminate or choose
              But freely gives to all
              Consistently and does not refuse
              The Creator's ancient call
you made me feel safe
then you took that away
i didn't know how to be alone
or cope with the pain

you told me it was fine
and i let you be right
now i'm just sad
and cold in the night
Too many cliches
Hyperbole and reality got mixed up
Where is peace and calm?
With all people and things lost
Why can't we get found?
There is so much more for all of us
Do we still have time to get it right with all the wrong surrounding us?
Snow Selmon
flying away on folded wings
taking turns and frowning of sin
through rusted bushes
there shining yellow hues
a story of colour
what are we gonna do
Palak Datta
Make babies, not by-products of ***.
Abusive marriages lead to an abnormal upbringing. Stop giving your kid what you got. Don't fight in front of them. Because, it leaves a long-lasting effect.
Anderson M
A conflation of
Hues filled with lush mystery
Unmatched artistry.
#Portal to #soul.
Broke my wings
So I couldn’t


So I stole his soul
So he couldn’t

David P Carroll
I'll pray for the sick and suffering every day
I promise I'll always be with you  today
I mean these words from the bottom of my heart
I'll always love you even if we're apart.
Love You 😘
•                               •

•                                                 •
9         «———  >§<  ———»         3

•                                                 •

•                               •

“Struck is the hour from its ivory tower,
At sixes and sevens, the stars in their heavens,

As minute hands dance at twilight's advance,
To the cadence of time, the archangel’s chime;

Listen closely for me at a quarter to thee,
‘Twixt the tick and the tock of grandpapa’s clock,

Unquicken thine pace, for run is the race,
Hear the pendulum lock, ziccoty, diccoty, dock.

‘There was a sudden stillness like the gap between ticks on a clock, but the next tick never coming.’
- Sadie Jones, The Outcast
Is the beginning from the end
Inspired by Mansi poetess
keila skie
I know
You care about me
10 more people do
Yet I can't get rid
Of this feeling
Of doom

I know
I have you
10 more people too
Yet I can't find a person
To talk to
late at night
Melanie Jackson
when we rule the
i almost wonder if we will leave the world in
or if we will grow the planet and move us
i suppose it all on the shoulders
of the people we let
I wish I only existed within the pages of a book
I wish I was as quiet as a whisper
Just barely there, barely heard
Like a sweet lullaby
I want to exist for a quick flash
In a dream that feels like thread unraveling
Ready to be broken away and gone within a second
But it was still there
Just for that
And that’s all I’d ever need
I’m already living it
I want to live inside a dream
Bluish mornings
The best to discover
Bright glowing orange
To leave your fingertips
Bond with the sun
Feel the horizontal verge
Christian Simon
The sunflower reaches up:

Tall and proud

Vainly striving to reach the sky:

A Sisyphean task.

For the wind batters;

Bruises as it nears.

Faces forced to bow.

Stems snapped like broken backs.

Nevertheless, they still believe.

Winter comes: a forced retreat.

Petals wither and fall.

Reduced, reused, recycled.

No longer of interest

To bees, birds and we

Who only see the first

Flush of beauty.

Returned unto the soil.
A dreamer dreams,
A man sees.
But the dreamer was never a man,
The dreamer is the greatest voice of all mind.

A dreamer dreams,
A  man sees.
But the dreamer was never man.

Now the world has become so dull.
The dreamer is lost in a sight of darkness,
The dreamer is lost in a night of a thousand storms.

Were you ever a man?

We are all but
In the eyes of others
In one’s own
The truth
The lies
Fire and ice
Sugar and spice
Ingredients to life
Pink sand
Oh great love of my life
Pink sand
Hair so bliss, lovely smile
Pink sand
Tortured soul you are
Pink sand
Open or don't open for all to know
Pink sand
That a small broken queen lives with all
Hi y'all. It seems that you all are enjoying my poems. I have an Instagram account @poetrybysabene where I post poems, stories and quotes daily. I'd appreciate a follow.
Tim Ruttle
"Not truly one, but truly two"
In fact, multifarious

Fragments of you become precarious

One sip, indulge, once the ebullition subsides,
Daylight falls on your repulsive Hyde

Pitched in opposition or bound by collusion,
Repression of one offers internal contusion

Duplicity of character drives the need to transcend

Doctor or deviant, met with admiration or resent,
Which of these denizens will you choose to present?
Wanting to be like someone
And wanting to be someone
Are two very different things. is identity theft!

To be or to be the other one.....that is the question.
A momentary burst of sarcasm.
To be or not to be someone like Shakespeare....that is the question....!
Mystic Ink Plus
If you survived
That despair
That unfair
That chaos
That storm
That void
That emptiness
That silence
That dark time
Along the way
And yet, keep the balance
With kindness alive
And calm eyes

No matter what
You are not of this time
To be precise
You are divine
No less than the God
Don't know
Who needs to hear this
May be, the person reading

Your goodness
Genre: Inspirational
Theme: Hope is real
Norman Crane
Despite all my rage
I am still just four minutes
of silence
                          —John Cage
Pascal Janssen
Words die little deaths,
Hopeful kamikaze runs,
Endings on windscreens.
glitches, stitches ,misunderstandings
this is where we meet
unforgiven, unforgiving,
forgiven and set free
small inconveniences, physical hurts
emotional upsets
a helping hand, clenched fist
arms open wide.
Not everything needs a poem
it’s already

good enough.
Henri Coetzee
I think of you today, as I often do
And with aching heart and shaking hand
I’ve decided to write a poem, about you, for you.
Because I want you to know that I love you.

I love your hair, the way it falls and flows,
And the way you dress takes my breath away.
I love the sound of your voice
And the idea of your hand in mine.

Above all, I love your mind
Every shining star and every dark corner.
In truth, I love everything about you.
But these are the words I’ll never say.

Because if I do, I could lose you.
Instead I’ve started telling myself
I don’t love you anymore
And maybe, one day, I’ll believe it too.
your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about

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
A friend of mine told me
I write when I’m sad
She said it is as if I am in pain
And I said when I write it rains
When I put the pen on paper the clouds get dark
And when I stop
The birds of the sky sings
Coming out to play as the sun is out
Never there,
absent mind, empty eyes.
I try to reach out
but you have no sight.
Your drooling stare,
fixed on the screen,
my voice is on mute to your ears.
I'm not even here.
Jeremy Stacy
A depression had me gloom
from the loss I presume
an exhaust would resume
until I saw you bloom
Instagram jst490_poetry
Next page