Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
SA Szumloz

His feet i kissed, his feet i washed
his mercy I miss; my soul is crushed
my Lord is dead; his bones are dust

his blood, my tears
all too much...

I have always been intrigued by Mary Magdalene's role in the Bible. She plays such an important character in the New Testament. But there is so much mystery behind her; so many questions left unanswered. I must investigate.
poisoned elixir
i have no one to talk to
how lovely
the narcissist tears me to pieces
Mary Anne Norton
Mini cotton *****
Quickly falling from the sky
Covering the ground
The tyrannical wrath,
floats on the surface,
gasoline on the water.
The judging emotions,
a flurry whipped up,
big and heavy,
as they hit me in the face.
Cry the pain out.
Everything I touch,
turns to lead.
Poisonous dead weight.
if you happen to fall,
follow the stars,
i'll be there too,
i'll meet you at mars
Emily Wang
I am the deep, the sky in reverse
I have what you seek, for better or worse

I am the blue of infinite depth
I've swallowed the crews and cleared the decks

You are afraid or maybe intrigued
Of the place where you played and also was freed

Kiss me now like you did before
Give me your vow and the ocean is yours.
I'm awake
Thinking of you

You are in my thoughts
And I'm in yours
-A deep connection with you-
vik the computer
i feel weight of your eyes
on the back of my neck
picture this:
fall apart like dying flowers
that's what you get
kick you down to the ground
let's become a shape
you be the the bottom
i'll be the top
bordered with thorns
bleeding is okay
closer and closer until
our hands fuse as one
like blending colors
looking into your empty eyes
i see myself staring back at me
doesn't it feel great
sinking underwater?
from "marble demons" ©2021
They will laugh
But that won't stop you
They'll point out
Don't let that block you
Know your thing
And just keep going
Through the hard times
Slowly growing .

And restless be
See what others cannot see
Know what you want
Keep researching
No one knows for what you're searching
You define your own life-story
By your actions reach the glory
They will laugh But don't gain fear They'll point out Just fight, my dear
They’d waited too long to say

“I love you”.

3 words. 3 syllables.

Yet they held millions of emotions unspoken.

and now that they’d done it, they wouldn’t,
couldn’t, stop

they told each other all the time. In the end of the argument and before the good news.

In the middle of the storm, even though it was hard to see, and after, when the raging winds had settled on a breeze

before the rising sun turned the sky pretty colors and after it flickered out and faded away into the dark

Underneath the stars that their love had been etched into

There was no love until death for them. Because it would never stop. Their love was beyond. It rose above any border that would dare to try and stop it. There was no finish line

because they were each other’s end game.  
Ciel Noir
I loved you


but it was wrong

and I learn now


to be strong
Ryan O'Leary
People are not aware, but
there are Vaccine Variations.

Yes indeed, totally different
according to race gender etc.

There is one for black females
one for black males and Arabs.

The V.V. concept is designed
for population control.

Pill condoms and abortion did
not provide what was expected.

There will be a marked decrease
in people to planet ratio very soon.

The V.V. section of society could
not be contained, so, this is it.

Days of useless eaters is at an end
remember we live on a rotating farm!
Crystal Freda
Why is poetry dying
when we still have the gift?
If we still have water
then we still have a ship.
We can sail to the places
these words take us.
We are still shaken
by the words that make us.
Why should we let poetry die
when there is so much to explore?
If only people read it
and discovered more.
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!

All is vanity
The meanings of passion
The aesthetic expression
The lines we draw and stay within
Even love is beyond intent
Vanity transcends
Flowing from our pens
And so we breathe again
I poured myself
inside your cup
pretended to be tea
your lips pursed to the rim
burning kiss
bile churns
you forgot
I'm made of sins
Luna Maria
are the ink
for the pen
a poet uses
to write
- L.M.
Corrinne Shadow
Comes easy
For me.

Soft touch
Not so much.
I clutch

My sleeve,
Defenses weave.
Let me grieve.
To raise
humble kid
is my priority.

I can
Make my CHILD learn
By preaching
By teaching
By giving
Knowledge of

She will not learn
by preaching!!
She will learn
By my ACTIONS..!!

If I don't
Share MY things
With My

She will learn NOTHING..!

I can make her
learn to share.
By making her give -
Clothes to needy
Toys in orphanage
Candies to the deprived.

she will
just learn to be PROUD

If she learns by
seeing me
She will become HUMBLE..!!

To raise a humble kid is my priority..!!

Sparkle In Wisdom
11 Jan 2019
Inspired by a incidence I heard at friends place.. after the whole episode the first thought that struck was
What actions will the kids remember and grow on??
Dave Robertson
The river knew you like us,
knows that the smile you gifted freely
with every inch of you
is gone from here

As it flows it keeps a memory like us
so when seas are reached
it will teach them of you
and why losing you
hurts so
and they will know you too
Mitch Prax
To this day,
your name
still hurts my tongue
but I still say it anyway.
Sometimes I like to
hear my soul
gently tear itself
Eating my beyond burger with a fork and knife,
drag race in the background,
my Samantha doll by my side.
This isn't loneliness anymore.
This is just life now.

I'm not very good with words anymore,
maybe I never was.
So little has changed and yet everything has.
I still long for love.
I still want to be wanted.
That might never change.

Yet now this lonely world is one I've come to accept,
come to love.
I may be my only friend here,
but that's one more than last year.

Nothing I create is good,
but I'm learning to create anyway.
I'm learning to share my bad art,
at least it's art.

I dream of slitting the throat of the dog next door.
Someone outta shut him up.
I used to think that was an evil thought,
now I know there's no such thing.

I turn 21 in 2 days.
Math. Yuck.
I'm old,
getting older every second.
I will grow into this skin,
I'm sure of it.

I'm grateful.
More than anything I am grateful for it all.
The pain,
the pleasure,
the guilt,
the anger.


No one reads these except me.
So this one is for her.
For you.
my love,
my villain,
my biggest fear.

May this year be kind to you,
may you be kind to it.
May you listen to your spirit guides,
may you accept what you never could.

Growth is sticky and wet,
Knowledge is thick and grey.
May you be the light and the darkness,
the cut and the band aid.

More than anything,
be okay.
You're gross,
in a sort of beautiful way.
May you be okay with that.

Bad art is still art.
I think so.
For now.
Deovrat Sharma
on earth
is complete
or perfect until
straggle into small
particles burnt into
ashesh and finally
enshrining into
the ether

©deovrat "अयन" 17.01.2021
Lost Lilith
In my darkest time
I'm reaching for the light
But it could go out any second
I just want a reason to not die yet
I'm too scared but I hate putting up
With the **** life gives me
of the
very best
of my loves
have been both
flawless & hopeless in
perfectly equal measure
time will heal
and silently
collect the scars
that are
meant to be
left in the past

after all
simply isn't enough
to make us last.
to her, the one who got away
In the cold, dark
        of January,
         I remembered
        the most.
  As the chill
      snapped bones
              like branches,
     as the afternoons
   bathed themselves
in gray,
     as the birds
and the backs
so did my lips
   around your name.
I'm so happy
     January is almost
over now.
Though time has built
endless warp
suffering and pain
ancient dust of Africa
breaking down the chain
can you hear
winds of change
through the brain
ancient dust of Africa
a message of hope to all parents
Third world child
César Vallejo
Me viene, hay días, una gana ubérrima, política,
de querer, de besar al cariño en sus dos rostros,
y me viene de lejos un querer
demostrativo, otro querer amar, de grado o fuerza,
al que me odia, al que rasga su papel, al muchachito,
a la que llora por el que lloraba,
al rey del vino, al esclavo del agua,
al que ocultóse en su ira,
al que suda, al que pasa, al que sacude su persona en mi alma.
Y quiero, por lo tanto, acomodarle
al que me habla, su trenza; sus cabellos, al soldado;
su luz, al grande; su grandeza, al chico.
Quiero planchar directamente
un pañuelo al que no puede llorar
y, cuando estoy triste o me duele la dicha,
remendar a los niños y a los genios.
Quiero ayudar al bueno a ser su poquillo de malo
y me urge estar sentado
a la diestra del zurdo, y responder al mundo,
tratando de serle útil en
lo que puedo, y también quiero muchísimo
lavarle al cojo el pie,
y ayudarle a dormir al tuerto próximo.
¡Ah querer, éste, el mío, éste, el mundial,
interhumano y parroquial, proyecto!
Me viene a pelo
desde el cimiento, desde la ingle pública,
y, viniendo de lejos, da ganas de besarle
la bufanda al cantor,
y al que sufre, besarle en su sartén,
al sordo, en su rumor craneano, impávido;
al que me da lo que olvidé en mi seno,
en su Dante, en su Chaplin, en sus hombros.
Quiero, para terminar,
cuando estoy al borde célebre de la violencia
o lleno de pecho el corazón, querría
ayudar a reír al que sonríe,
ponerle un pajarillo al malvado en plena nuca,
cuidar a los enfermos enfadándolos,
comprarle al vendedor,
ayudar a matar al matador -cosa terrible-
y quisiera yo ser bueno conmigo
en todo.
You've given me tons of reasons to leave,
But I still stay
Because those reasons weren't enough
To keep me away
pretty girl,
the boys are out to get you
they'll take away your flower
they want what's only yours

pretty girl,
blossom slowly,
stay in your cocoon for now
for summer can only last so long
and soon it will be over
There will always be change
That much is the same
Yet it's not the change
But the chains
That mire me

I admired
She knew
It was nothing new
Us two
In this game
The one that we played
Where the rules displayed
That the game
Was not spoken
Or displayed

A cat and mouse chase
Set at tortoise's pace
Torture gladly I take
While I patiently wait
Possibility's sake
Of a move I might make
And forever in Check
Just one move from Checkmate

Written: May 28, 2020

All rights reserved.
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
Like moss covering the north face
Suckling the morning dew

Like a rose in a garden
Absorbing tenderness of the caretaker's hand

Like the fishling in the bay
Savoring sea grass drifting by

Like the young gull
Peeping persistently for their mothers' love

Like the oak tree
Biding the squirrel's forgetfulness

Or a boat
Painstakingly supervised under withered hands of sailors
Who themselves wizened over the years
Tasting the salt spray sweating under the sun

Like all existence
Holding the hourglass of time

So you too, my friend
Will grow to unimaginable heights.
David P Carroll
I love you so much in life
And every day I think about you and
Your smile is so beautiful and bright
And all I ever wanted was
To be part of your beating heart
And for us to fall in love every night
And always to be together
And never for us to be apart
I love you so much with
All of my heart.
True Love ❤️😘😘💞💞
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 like *******.
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.
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.
Marie K
When love dies slowly
We are reluctant to blow on its embers
But quick to cry on its ashes
Late night texts
Sleepy eyes
Small smiles

Stolen moments
Held inside
Beating heart


Left alone
Tear filled eyes
Chapped lips
Scarred thighs

Empty promises
Cast aside
Broken heart

there's a reason why its called a crush
John Lennon
Can you imagine the world if he wasn’t shot?
Do you think his believers will finally see
The bullshitting hypocrite behind all that peace?

“All you need is love” sang by a guy
Who went out of his way to be cruel to his wife
Used to ***** about his dad doing the disappearing act
Until he did it himself, the silly ****

“Imagine no possessions”
Bold words from a guy who had a lot of obsessions
“Love is real, real is love”
Says the guy who’d rather have two lovers at once

His best hits was with the Fab Four
His solo hits are like seesaws
Yoko Ono had some hits
By him, behind closed doors she took it

Some people see him as some sort of Jesus
But truth is, he was politically clueless
The egotistical, ignorant little poseur
Who’d rather stay in bed until it’s all over

Did he change the world? Did he ****
Nothing but a demigod, high in everyone’s mind
I’m really glad he died in his prime
Just wished that ****** Bono was next in line
Written about somebody we should not put on a pedestal
Next page