Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
When I think of the future
See my life
It’s pitch black
No direction
No light
But everyone else
They see a shining path
One so hard to miss
But when you’re blinded
By darkness
You miss everything
I'll buy you expensive dinners
if you will come to town to see me
There goes an ocean road
And none other is there of its kind:
Where systems meet on earth below
There languids creep on agéd line:

Where languids chatter in their fear
And seldom one would fall away,
And walk they would to endless near
To one distance with endless name:

And no great lesson this road will teach
In the deep blue mystic that lead their soles;
On soaken road, these languids creep
In bottom's deep on ocean soil.
Cheyenne Macrides
tarot has taught

me one thing,

the art of storytelling.
Flip a coin at me
Make me your wishing well
Your secrets in my ear
All them mine to tell

You can run
But you can’t hide
Count the candles you’ve blown out
Count the bullets till you’ve died

Oh dear

You’ve fed yourself to the monster
You’ve led yourself astray
No point running faster, faster
You’ve only yourself to blame
Grit your teeth
Move on
Try to not listen
To the sound
Of the nails
On the chalkboard
Where we 1st met: 41.06°N, -74.02°W

Our first kiss: 41.09°N, -73.92°W

Our first date: 41.16°N, -73.97°W

Our first “I love You:” 41.07°N, -74.02°W

Our first carnival: 41.01°N, -74.01°W

Our first vacation: 20.21°N, -87.45W
Rollie Rathburn
a kitchen light still glows
on an immense orange cat
waiting to scour both dog bowls
for leftovers
that have yet to appear
after even a single meal.
Twilight throwing
lavender shadows
across the cramped
polaroid drenched kitchen
where you slow danced
to something acoustic
before saying your first goodbye
on a bare concrete balcony
studded with cigarette ash
and stars.
Good god that laugh

I can feel you every day

Just open your mouth

And please don’t ever go away
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)
Eugene Osowski
We walk alone, alone we walk,
For we are scarcely here

Quite long enough
To comprehend

What is most plainly clear –

We are by chance,

By chance we love,

By love, we chance to be

But lovers on a lovely lake
Who love but momently.
Left To Rot
Rigid reactions, raw religion
redacting life's riots,
Emotional rollercoaster,
roars of despair, ready rites,
They said,
"The most beautiful art is
looking into someone's eyes
when they talk about the
things they love.
And I said,
"Or looking at someone you love.
Or maybe, just maybe,
by looking at the mirror
is the most beautiful art
anyone should appreciate."
Appreciation post for myself; for you and for everyone as well. You deserve more than the world has to offer.
It’s a city from the outside,
Shining on a hill
But from the inside looking out
It’s just another jail
It sometimes feels like the city walls are pressing in, suffocating me, but I can’t leave, at least not yet. Soon, though, I’ll be leaving; soon... I just have to remember to breathe long enough to get there.
Krusty Aranda
I sometimes feel I'm an annoyance
And sometimes comes very often
And often I feel I'm not good enough
Even though I give my all
All is just a bit too much
It sometimes feels so overwhelming
And sometimes comes very often
Michelle Lauren
Visions of the thens,
Contemplation of the whys.
What a strange notion it is
That you've become past tense.
I flirted with the idea of forgiveness,
Fiddled with it between my fingers.
I then invited indignation,
Allowed her to stay too long at the table.
Rage-ridden I found myself.
Once she left fearfulness followed,
Grief grew beside her
In tandem, they existed.
I now await apathy
I hope she arrives soon.
But then there would be nothing left to write.
The world paints over whatever it wants over you like you are an empty canvas, Its upto you to stay vigilant and selectively absorb what you need rather than what you're forced with.

Find your direction, find your sense of perfection redefine yourself to be the art you dream of.
Striving to become the art that i dream of.
if ever

you don’t


like you have a home,

pull me close,

wrap your arms around me,

rest your head on my chest,

close your eyes,

and feel the warmth of the fireplace

resonating from within my heart.
I broke too much
of myself
thinking someone
could fix me.

I should have not
turned myself
to pieces
in the first place.

Because no one
would ever keep
a broken mirror
in their pockets.
Grace Willow
Wrap me up in your words
Bury me in the warmth of you
Until I’m left with your scent for days
As I fall in love with you all over again
She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."
What's the difference?
you gave me a word to hold onto
it got me through the night
felt nice for a while
but we both know this isn't right
keeping your distance is a crime
I know this by the hurt in my chest
someone's placed you here in front of
me as a torturing test
you've put a gun to my head and I'm asking to die
for the sake of being dead
what I would do for you to crawl out of her
and into my bed
She sits there hoping not to be notice.
Waiting every second to burst out of her bubble but not knowing where it will take her.
Ever knowing when to jump to the next step too afraid to fail.
Seconds are feeling like months, trying soo hard to leave a broken city.
Dreaming for the days when everyone will know her name.
Each day is a step towards her goals not letting one in her way.
Making new friends to fill the gaps of losing everyone she knew.
Parents that bully instead of support but just enough to make her work harder to reach her dreams.
because smiling and saying i'm fine
is easier than trying to explain to you what i feel inside
this is why i'd rather lie
than try to explain why i wish i had died
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
Little did she know,
I love her
and the chaos
in her heart.
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.
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
Before you go,
Can I get one more kiss?
Will you tell me about your day?
And about your tomorrow too?
And could you maybe stick around
Just long enough to share
Every day of my life with you?
The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.
A little escape from the madness.
Or maybe, into.
Before we meet
I'd like to send parting gifts.
To my mother,  
To my grey dog,
To the sparkling sea,
To the brown eyed woman,
To my guardian angels,
I'd like to journey
Into the heart of their being
And get drunk in celebration
Then letting it all fade to black
No, it's not because I am scared
No, rejection is not the answer
Nor, a spineless coward
  It's just because You,
The pious Don't
Deserve Me,
The sinner.
i do not believe in god
but i do believe in poetry
and for me
maybe poetry is prayer
and the universe
is an unwavering ear
in the shape of a god
Suzy Berlinsky
Not every woman finds the bus driver of her dreams.
Familiarity breeds contempt during a bus trip.
Your bus driver loves you and always will!
Someone had to say it and I'm glad that it was me.
If I married a bus driver, and he was a woman, I'd love him a lot.
we were silent
we took a hit we were tired
we were already stagnant
we were a bay that no one has ever visited

it rained a lot
but we were dry
you sit with me in my silence.
and that means more to me
roses and chocolate.
written by d.f.
Next page