Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 409° 
migayle ocuaman
Deep in sleep,
The child dreams.
Free from fright,
Free of plight.
A child dreams,
Uncorrupt and forever gleams,
Deep in sleep a child dreams,
Forever pure,
Deep in sleep.
 334° 
Eva Rushton
I spent a smile
On another today
The cost was of little
But a soul it did save
I spent a smile
On another today
My heart it grew lighter
Their world became brighter
The smile I spent
On another today
Came back to me
With happiness I see

Written by E.M.Rushton
June 24 th 2019
 305° 
acacia
only been 5 days, not even a week,
and i’m wrapped around your stupid finger
 226° 
Karen M
Always here to almost
There but sometimes
Near and just barely
Alive to cease to exist--

Wait a minute.
Who are you?
Sometimes, you just don't know someone like you used to.
 201° 
Torin Galleshaw
she moves to me
whether in a picture or sat against the sea
as a cloud she floats gently above me
the currents and the streams
her neck where sections sit
the way her necklace rests ever so delicately
her soft brown skin
through all this land
she moves to me

she is
gold
sunshine on a crystal morning
and pearls
silk
nothing
everything

she moves to me
whether its a mirror or stood against the sky
as the music the cosmos makes in our silence
the stars and the planets
her neck where moons beam
the way her necklace follows her collorbone
through all this space
she moves to me
whether its gravity or we as entangled particles
and we are in every moment as we are together
our quantum dancing
her neck where time begins
the way her necklace falls so gracefully into place
through all this time
she moves to me

I kiss her just below her right ear
and I know now is everywhere
and everytime is now
the sun and the moon
the spiral galaxy
the walls that hold in time
I kiss her just below her right ear

she moves to me
whether its the wind or impossible odds
as the dreams we hold dear and our hope that keeps us strong
our faith and love
her neck which i caress gently
the way her necklace seems to retire when she does
I kiss her on the eyelids
she moves to me
 130° 
Chelsea Rae
I don't know if I can say that I have ever seen your soul

And that makes for a very lonely partnership.
Why does it feel like we are never truly connected?
 119° 
Anne
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.
 110° 
Tommy Randell
long poems bore me
as short poems restore me -
it's in my nature.
 110° 
Chameleon
I love you so much for
making room for me
in your life.
For staying when you came
into my apartment that December morning
and proving that not everybody leaves.
who was really "me" in that sense
i was hurting "me"  in that mess
they all wanted me in that fence













_
Check out my poetry blog for the full version of "imperfections" and more.

https://muhammedeminkusaslan.blogspot.com/

Muhammed Emin KUŞASLAN
Thank you everyone for reading.
My instagram: @eminkusaslan
Take care -E
 106° 
Apporva Arya
I closed my eyes,
From light
And when opened them,
It was already night.
I guess,
It's a part of life,
To regret life,
While living life.
Expressions of life simply beautiful.
 102° 
David J
Its already a hard night.... with the news of my friend. But on top of that im sitting up on the couch helping my brother make it through the night as he deals with such awful things....
Hearing a man throw up and be in such pain hurts the soul... but i dont feel sick, i feel angry, because im tired of having to watch this all the time, please give the poor guy a break. STOP IT,  cant you see youre beating him to death, why dont you help my family.... pleaaase ik youre there so pleasee why dont you ever stop torturing them
When it came to love an idea was much better than reality.

When it came to hate blindness was much better than understanding.

When it came to guilt emptiness was much easier than healing.

And then the cigerette died and the sun set, it's time for leaving.
 84° 
Clive B Dalton
I crept upon a
Nookery
a most wondrous
site to see
It was full of
nooks and rubber
ducks
The crannies
were set free.

First verse
Not quite the same
As the first

Today I stumbled
Upon a Nookery
It wasn’t a pleasant
Site to see
The Nooks and the Ducks
were unpleasant
As can be
Forcing the Crannies
to pack-up
And flee
 75° 
Paradeaux
If you don't heal what hurt you,

You'll bleed on people who didn't cut you.
</3
 75° 
Donna
Hmm I've only got a
few likes today hmm maybe
my writings not good

Why am I even
writing what's it's all about
What's the point , I only feel

anxious now , deep breaths
Now I feel silly why did
I write that , oh jeez

heart beating feel sick!!
Then my self doubt passes and
I'm back to lovely

place again! Self doubt
sure can grip me making me
feel really down! But you

see writing helps dig
through negativity , am
I a poet or not

Maybe , I'm not sure
But I'm much more too , I'm a
wife a mum a sister

a friend. I've wrote my
heart out for five years now non
stop to be honest

But now I'm in such
a lovely place of content
I'm living happy

Of course I still get
life stresses hit me and yeah
I get negative

But one thing I can
always rely on is my
passion for writing

It helps mentally
to keep me strong and focus
May it come from my

heart or mind or once
in awhile I like to write
stories , fun fun fun :)

I'm slowing down now
Gone and got myself married :)))
Tis so wonderful

Children are growing
up fast , there leading there own
life's more every day

So I'm finding new
hobbies to keep me active
Life changes happen

But to write , will be  
in me always , tis part of me
it's just there always

So to all who love to
write have fun dry those tears up
Find your happy place :))
Have a lovely week ahead :)) love to u all xxxx
 68° 
Penguin Poems
If want was water,
I would be drowning, my head under completely
and my oxygen quickly depleting.
If confusion was cold,
My fingers would be numb and I wouldn't even
have a coat to ward off the freezing.
If youth was you,
It would be slipping away by the second,
And I can't get a hold to stop it.
Now,
my air is gone,
I'm shivering to the bone,
and can't keep a hold on.
But, this is only a poem:
I know I'm not suffocating, subzero, or slipping.
But I can't help but feel like the more I write,
the farther I get from reality
and the closer I get to metaphor mortality.
 63° 
sarah
late at night, i lie awake
thinking of things i should have said
all the mistakes i've made
and signs i should've read

then think about what i can't live without
you, front and center in my mind
sometimes it feels like halfway love
almost, but not quite

still, parts of you make me whole
who i am and who i need to be
i think of love letters that weren't torn up
feelings of blue and green

when i'm without you
blank page, artless innocence
i realize how dependent i've grown to you
and feel the need to create a distance

sometimes i look up at the purple sky
and wonder if you're looking too
i gaze at the colors and the beauty of it all
though its beauty would never compare to you
 60° 
Blckstr
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.
 59° 
moon child
I'm
Trying
My
Best.

Crying
In
My
Car
But
Doing
It
Well.
 50° 
Xaela San
I'm not "smart" like them.

I'm not "bright" as them.

I'm not "confident" like them.

I'm not "beautiful" as them.

I'm not "someone" like them.

Can you just accept that?

I don't like crying myself anymore

-Said myself in the mirror.
Mirror, mirror on the wall
 47° 
emilie
I can't have you.
it's not fair.  
tears flood my eyes,
while I lay in my bed and cry.

my day is despondent
when I realize I won't be in your arms
tonight in my sleep.

I need you with me for every step of the way
and one day I'll hold you.
 45° 
rose
...
I had coffee and a cigarette for breakfast
So yeah I'm doing fine
I've become good at taking weight off of other peoples shoulders
and
Searching for happiness in everything
:)
 44° 
Saikat Biswas
what is love?
is it the gentle breeze,
upon the spring leaves
or is it the brute force
that moves your inert mountains.

what is love?
is it the milk of your mother's breast
that flows like nectar through child's throat
or is it the very flesh
upon which two soul feasts.

what is love?
is it the very compassion
that finds expression through words
or is it the love of
mother earth for her sentinent beings.

love is boundless
for the sweetness of flowers,
the sensation of your lovers' touch
the enigma of the very sun and moon.
what is love? that which is boundless that which is compassion........
 43° 
Hg
wri
ting is
threading
your           life
thro             ugh
a ne           edle
and         if
you sew
secrets
you'll
get
po
ke
d
a
l
i
t
t
l
e
.
©Hg
 42° 
Amanda
when you said
“she’s the love of my life”
i didn’t hear it
i felt it

and it felt an awful lot
like a shattering heart
 42° 
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.
 40° 
elaine
my grip is slipping,
and falling scares me.
my world is fading away.
h      
          e
                     l
                             p
       m
                 e

h
          e
                    l
                          ­     p
          m
                     e

writing was an escape but even now words slip off the paper like tear drops.
why does it have to be like this?
 38° 
The Red Woman
i want to write about a
specific person
but putting him into
words
would be like trying to
explain
life
itself
S.
 36° 
Harry Roberts
All the things I thought I wanted
All the lies I told still haunt me
All the while I feel taunted
Seen the truth these demons flaunted.

The price of living is the pain of forgiving
The essence of despair dampens the spirit of whats fair
The devils feast like vultures carving man like clay sculptures
Kneading in obsession to create creatures open to possession.

In the end we are made as grotesque caricatures fiends and characters playing in an infernal play.
 34° 
BLT
This would fall apart
if not for your adhesive
keeping it intact.

BLT
 34° 
Donall Dempsey
STARRY STARRY NIGHT

She switched off the moon.

Plucked out the stars.

A little dog barked
as her scream scrawled:

“This time life has gone...too far.”

She took an overdose of sleeping tablets
in her big bright red car.

The day withers
that was once in bloom.

Petals fall
in an empty room.

The moon wept.
The stars cried.

Life was for living... Life lied.
 33° 
Jordan Ray

           Love                                  is                      
wr­itten                    in                    stone
       which                                slowly
             fades                          to
                   sand                   ..                                          
                    ­     ..                 ..
                             . . . . . . .
                              . . . . . .
                                . . . .
                                  . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
all my life
i've been preparing faces
to meet the faces that
i've met

friends
family
the man who delivers newspapers
at our doorstep each morning

i've laughed at their silly jokes
as they tossed their heads from side to side
in naive stupidity and their sheer ignorance
a pompous lot, the human race i tell you

i've acknowledged their staunch morals
and tried to make them my own
as they scorned at the girl in a skimpy dress
and chewed on mutton bones gluttonously

all my life, i've been trying hard
to blend in
with people who've shown me
that i don't belong with them

and tonight when i shed gallons of tears
i have only my bed and pillow to share
i've learnt that my sadness
is my very own
just a sad girl writing to survive
 33° 
Anderson M
When one meets a rock
And see an overzealous egg.
Facing it head on,unflinchingly.
 32° 
sandra wyllie
I close my eyes real tight
so, it’s him I cannot see
and dive into my mind
make-believe
you are there
and when I scream
he thinks it’s him
that broke the rafters
and the beams
that woke the neighbors
soaked the sheets
and when I climb off
I lay back
and smile
and so does he
 31° 
Tyler Atherton
My Teenage years;
Teenage years with people saying 'sit down and shut up'
Teenage years with no one caring
Teenage years with physical abuse
Teenage years with razor blades
Teenage years with no mother
Teenage years with bottles of pills
Teenage years with ****** assualt
Teenage years with suicide attempts
Teenage years with no reason to live
Teenage years spent pining for what was lost.



© Copyright Tyler Atherton
Next page