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 1219ยฐ 
Peter Gerstenmaier
The Norns weren't kind
When they wove our fate
You were gone too soon
While I was left behind
To slowly fade
In memory of a dear friend...
 733ยฐ 
badwords
That five-seven-five is a scam,
Just nature plus seasonal spam.
A frog in a bogโ€”
Wow! A leaf! And some fog!
Itโ€™s a tweet with a syllable jam.

Now limericks think theyโ€™re so sly,
With their jigs and their wink of the eye.
But their punchlines grow stale,
Like a bar yuck from Yaleโ€”
Itโ€™s the dad joke of poetry. Why?

Oh Shakespeare, forgive whatโ€™s been doneโ€”
Fourteen lines on a love that wonโ€™t run.
With their iambic moans,
And romanticized groansโ€”
They're just Tinder swipes dressed as the sun.

Repetitionโ€™s the name of its game,
But by stanza three, itโ€™s all shame.
You repeat and repeat,
Till your brain hits deleteโ€”
Was it clever, or just all the same?

Acrostics spell TRY HARD down the side,
A format no critic can abide.
Each line bends and breaks,
Just for symmetryโ€™s sakeโ€”
And the message gets lost in the ride.

Free verse gets a pass, but just barelyโ€”
Too often it screams โ€œLook, Iโ€™m arty!โ€
With no rhythm or aim,
Just vibes and a nameโ€”
Like a drunk giving TED Talks at parties.

---

There once was a muse unconfined,
Who laughed at each rule tightly lined.
When pure thought took flight,
It outshone every riteโ€”
For raw truth outclasses form every time.
 706ยฐ 
Kai
I've been lately writing poetry!
Oh? What do I see?
A perfect poetry site waiting for me!
First poem, proud of it!
Oh? Someone in my messages?
This guy seems sweet
And he's hoping I don't get beat!
Pretty songs for me to listen to!
And a drunk man messaging me...?
โ€œYou're only making yourself a victim because you're cutting yourself"
Oh? Okay- thanks for the paragraph/drunk rant?

Shining lights on all of my latest poems?
Thank you! You're so sweet!
โ€ฆ.ohโ€ฆtalking to me about pedophilesโ€ฆgot itโ€ฆ
Why are there so many sad songs?
WHY DOES THIS MAN HAVE SO ****** MUSIC TASTE AGGGHGDGFGCC

Oh? You wrote a poem about the 764 and absolutely humiliating them?
Great! Good job!
โ€ฆBut uhhโ€ฆ why and how did they make a virus only going after your followers that are minors? Not funny!
Why is this man warning me if they threaten me? Is he trying to make me scared on purpose?
Blaming the Japanese for this virus now, huh?
Oh? Now blaming someone else named Pax to be part of the 764? Crazy

โ€ฆ. going to another website? But you're so fun!
May as well click on the link you sent me so I can join you

Drunk rants with me? That's okay!
Giving me gold so I can freely make poems?
THANK YOU SM
Daily texting
2-10 hour sessions
Why are you drinking everyday?
You're making me concerned for your health
I told you to stop drinking, papa
You promised me you'd stop
All you did was keep on drinking

Commenting on every poem I made
Oh? So suddenly I'm a โ€œnasty *****" when I have done nothing to you? ใ‚ใ‚ŠใŒใจใ†!
We have a suicide pact now?
I'm going off the bridge first?
Don't mind if I do

Oh? Another poetry site? Okayโ€ฆ
I really don't like the way this site works, can't we just message each other with email?
Yes? Yay!

People bullying you on the internet? That's not okay!
Why would they accuse you of being a *******?
Letting me join an uncensored group to back you up? Great!
Sending me to a Reddit page to back you up?
Alright!
โ€ฆ.oh โ€ฆ they warned me and I didn't do anythingโ€ฆ.
******* this man is an actual *******โ€ฆ..
gotta go fast like Sonic
pack my bags and leave

Oh? I betrayed you? Crazy
We were just friends
Can you stop spitting my name everywhere?
It's like you're so obsessed with me
Stop trying to be the Eminem to my Mariah Carey
Made a poem about you and you HAD to take it down?
Never thought you'd want to hide your identity THAT hard
Oh? Betting on my suicide now, are we?
Sending me multiple emails, desperate for me to come back to him?
I'm not that ******* naive or gullible
It's crazy if you think that about me
โ€ฆI did tell you to send those photos of your cut open arms but I DIDN'T THINK YOU'D TAKE IT SERIOUSLY AND DO IT

Being racist?
โ€œJapshitโ€?
Why are you so obsessed with my Chinese genes?
โ€œI thought I can use Kai because of her Chinise genes because the Chinise was known to be very good spies. โ˜๏ธ๐Ÿค“" ใธใƒผ! Didn't know that!
Also, that's not how you spell Chinese, my fellow kind sir
Threatening people to come to America with a Katana and slice us to pieces
So envious, I see
You're just mad because we have a little bit more freedom than your drunk *** does

Ohโ€ฆ. Talking to me about ****
Got it
Thanks
I didn't need to be taught about METART or some **** like that
I'm only 12 years old
You ***** *****

Wellโ€ฆthis is the aftermath
There it goes out to all of you:
Ghost
RGH
Ryan Geoffrey Hayward
Nephilim Angel
Nephalem
Rose White
Rose Red
Jacob Lives
Hybrid Angel
Tormenter
Bread Crumbs
The Machine
Dirt-In-My-Shirt
Soul Unknown
And etc. ENJOYERS

(Btw, all of these names are RGH's names so if you have these names, please don't feel targeted! The person knows who they are.)

EDIT: ILY ALL SM!!! I DIDN'T THINK THIS POEM WOULD GAIN THIS MUCH ATTENTION BUT I'M HAPPY THAT IT DID!! (โ โ‰งโ โ–ฝโ โ‰ฆโ ) I'M GOING TO VIRTUALLY KISS EVERYONE ON THE CHEEK ONCE THEY READ THIS... or just virtually hug you, yk, whatever you're comfortable with
 646ยฐ 
Liana
โ€œAre you okay?โ€

Sweetheart, I write poetry
And some kindhearted people said I write it well
โ€ฆ
That can only mean one thing
My mind is an unescapable hell

โ€œYeah, just tiredโ€
Random thought
 597ยฐ 
Ryan Geoffrey Hayward
snow while flakes
in the passionate write,
that the mellow
snow seems to bring.

an angel wakes
from a dream she awakes
that the yellow
sky loves to sing.

She smells the bake
of nearby lovely cakes
and she swallows
what they will bring.

Slower.......

She's not focused on hate,
or the storm we create
or the waste of harrow
She ***** off with her wings..........
 542ยฐ 
F Elliott

Author's Note:

This piece is not an accusation.
It is a meditation on the invisible processes that hollow men from within, until dignity itself becomes foreign to them.

It was written out of love for what could still be restoredโ€”
and sorrow for what has already been surrendered.

It speaks not just to the fallen,
but to every soul tempted to trade courage for comfort, or brotherhood for collusion.

Its aim is simple:

To remember what is still worth standing for.

To remember what dignity feels like.

To remember that one man, rising rightly, can still light a thousand silent fires.


This is not a call to fight against anyone.
It is a call to rise for something greater.

And that rising always begins aloneโ€”
but never ends alone.


---

I. The Quiet Death of Courage

Cowardice rarely announces itself.
It does not charge the city gates or tear down banners.
It does not raise its fist or shout in the streets.

It simply withdraws.

A little at a time:

A small silence when truth could have been spoken.

A small appeasement when resistance was needed.

A small betrayal of the self, justified as "wisdom," or "timing," or "strategy."


Cowardice is the art of dying in small increments.

It is a death invisible at firstโ€”
but felt all the same,
especially by those who still remember what life tasted like.

---

II. The Architecture of Collapse

A man does not become a coward all at once.

It happens in stages:

1. The First Silence

At first, he says nothing when he should have spoken.
He tells himself it was prudence.
He convinces himself that silence was strength.

It was not.

It was the first small surrender of the ground within him.

---

2. The Second Betrayal

Next, he acts against his own spiritโ€”
not because he is coerced,
but because he seeks the approval of the small and the fearful.

He trades his birthright for belonging.

---

3. The Third Rationalization

Then he builds a philosophy around his collapse.
He calls cowardice "compassion."
He calls compromise "wisdom."
He calls retreat "strategy."

He must call it something,
for he can no longer bear to call it what it is.

---

4. The Fourth Contagion

Finally, he evangelizes his collapse.

He cannot stand to be alone in his shrinking.
He must make others shrink too, so that his own fall will seem normal.

He calls cynicism "truth."
He calls bitterness "clarity."
He calls betrayal "maturity."

And so the infection spreads.

---

III. The Hallmarks of the Cowardly Spirit

What does the cowardly spirit look like once matured?

It has specific, predictable characteristics:

It ridicules what it secretly envies.

It mocks beauty, calling it naivetรฉ.

It mistrusts love, calling it weakness.

It punishes hope wherever it finds it.

It colludes quickly with other cowards, for it cannot endure the mirror of a brave soul.


Most of all,
it refuses to stand alone in anything noble.

It will only move
when surrounded by a sufficient crowd of accomplices,
all murmuring together that cowardice is, after all,
"just the way the world works."

---

IV. The Consequences: The Inheritance of the Cowardly Spirit

The coward believes his failures die with him.

They do not.

Every surrender of the soul plants a seedโ€”
and what the coward will not face, the next generation must.

Cowardice is not content to remain private.
It leaks. It spreads.
It builds hidden systems of decay in places meant to be sacred:

Brotherhood.

Family.

Love.

Trust.


Here, we observe the inevitable fruits of the cowardโ€™s hidden betrayals:

---

1. The Poisoning of Brotherhood

The coward cannot abide true brotherhood, for it demands loyalty to something higher than himself.

Where brotherhood calls men to rise, he calls them to collude.
Where brotherhood builds strength, he breeds resentment and small betrayals.

True brotherhood requires courage:

The courage to tell the truth.

The courage to stand beside the fallen and help them rise.

The courage to call out wrong even when it costs everything.


The coward, unwilling to bear these costs, transforms brotherhood into mob-hood.
It becomes not a place of strengthening, but a collective graveyard of broken wills.

---

2. The Contamination of the Vulnerable

The coward is not content to rot alone.
He must gather others into his decay โ€” especially those still innocent enough to hope.

He mocks hope as naivetรฉ.
He redefines loyalty as silence.
He teaches the young that the only safety lies in cynicism, deceit, and crowd protection.

Thus, the cowardly spirit perpetuates itselfโ€”
turning the next generation of seekers into scavengers.

The vulnerable, robbed of examples of true dignity, inherit nothing but confusion and despair.

The sins the coward would not confess
become the legacies his sons and daughters must carry.

---

3. The Formation of the System

When enough cowards gather,
their private collapses harden into public systems.

It is no longer just a man here, or a man there.
It is a constructโ€”a culture.

A place where cowardice is normal,
where betrayal is cleverness,
where faithfulness is mocked,
where mercy is treated as weakness.

The system becomes self-perpetuatingโ€”
enforced not by dictators, but by the small daily collusions of those too afraid to stand.

And thus, without ever firing a shot,
cowardice conquers the city.

Not with weapons.
But with withdrawal.
With silence.
With the endless failure to love rightly when it was hardest to love.

---

V. The Restoration: The Only Way Back

There is no shortcut out of cowardice.

There is no clever argument that can restore dignity to a man who has surrendered it.

There is only one way back:

The man must choose to stand againโ€”alone if necessaryโ€”before the gaze of God and truth.

---

1. The Necessity of Aloneness

To be restored, the man must abandon the crowd.
He must leave behind the murmuring alliances of smallness that once comforted him.

He must stand naked in the light of reality:

Without excuse.

Without camouflage.

Without borrowed dignity.


He must see himself as he truly isโ€”
not as the victim of circumstance,
but as a willing participant in his own ruin.

This is why restoration begins with loneliness.

Because dignity cannot be borrowed.
It must be reborn.

---

2. The Cost of Repentance

True repentance is not an apology to the crowd.

It is an apology to the soul he abandoned.
An apology to the Source he betrayed.
An apology to the ones he harmed by his absence of courage.

Repentance is not a performance.
It is a slow rebuildingโ€”
stone by stone, day by dayโ€”
of a life that will no longer lie.

It is the refusal to be a man whose silence feeds decay.
It is the refusal to call cowardice "wisdom" just because it is popular.

It is the willingness to lose everything false
in order to gain one thing true.

---

3. The Unfolding Strength

As the man stands,
he will feel at first as though he is dying.

And in a way, he is.
The part of him that survived by submission is perishing.

But what rises in its place
is something the system of cowards has no weapon against:

A man who can no longer be bought.
A man who can no longer be frightened.
A man who, even alone, even broken, refuses to bow to lies.

One such man
can dismantle the machinery of cowardice
simply by breathing differently.

---

4. The Lineage of New Fire

When one man stands rightly,
he gives birth to a lineage.

He shows others what it looks like to stop surrendering.
He awakens those still sleeping in their excuses.

He does not have to preach loudly.
He does not have to prove anything.

His existence becomes a rebellion.
His faithfulness becomes an invitation.
His dignity becomes a seedbed for the rebirth of brotherhood.

He becomes a true elder.
A true warrior.
A true builder of sacred things.

He becomes a man who no longer merely survivesโ€”
but who lives.

---

And so the story turns:

The cowardly system is dismantled
not by greater violence,
not by harsher words,
but by the silent rising of men and women
who refuse to live any longer beneath their birthright.

They will not key the beauty they envy.
They will not scavenge the ruins.
They will not mock what they are too small to understand.

They will build.
They will love.
They will stand.

They will remember:
that heaven was always meant to be built from blood, yesโ€”
but also from breath, and bone, and unbreakable fire.

And so they will live,
not because they were the strongest,
but because they were the most faithful.

Ana Lise,
come sit beside me
as I square off
against all of these cowardly sons a *******.

https://youtu.be/EV2oD3cc6Ns?si=2B4kCEQhGakaaAgi
 515ยฐ 
Bijan Rabiee
Everyone knows or should know
About the First Space
The natural or physical world we live in
Second Space is where
We are supposed to go in the afterlife
Whether it be Heaven or Hell
Purgatory or Limbo
However, not everyone believes in that.

Only the ones with hearts of gold
Can make it to that Third Space
A place beyond the reach of any star
A majestic palace in total darkness
Where pure spirits sway
Providing soothing blue light
To compensate absence of day
It is a place where invisible lyrists
Play music nonstop and sing poetry
Reminiscent of Orpheus' flair
A place where disembodied dragons
Spew black fire animating you
With the magic of dark energy
Which would give you a corporeal form
Much finer than what you had on Earth
Except that such new body won't require
Food, water, or whatever
Your previous frame craved for
Your revolutionary system shall include
A mechanism that would operate
Like a power source for nourishment
And other kinds of necessities
That ****** functions require
It be like having a tiny sun within you.

But there are conditions:
You are not permitted to touch
Or get close to the others of your kind
You are not allowed to make noise
Interrupting the flow of things
The first time you violate such rules
You be sent to curious solitary quarters
Having no bottom and no end
Where a minute can feel like an eternity
Your second violation will cost you
The privilege to be there
And you will be sent back to either
The First or a suitable Second Space
The reason you are sent there is because
You were a paragon of kindness
While living on Earth and your reward
Is not to accommodate
Your humanly desires but to assimilate
The mysteries and wonders of Universe.

In a world fraught with injustice, dread
Poverty, cruelty, vanity and insanity
Someone should think of such fantasy
That may or may not inspire
Hope as well as faith in humanity.
 353ยฐ 
Juno
I wish to be understood,
More than anything,
To understand my mind,
How its works in its mysterious ways,
To reach deep into my soul and find-
The truth

To truly feel and understand-
Not just the surface,
But beneath-
All within me-
intertwined

They may think they know me,
Yet no one really does,
As much as they believe,
I am really just alone,
Deep in my delicate and intricate thoughts

Understand them -
My thinking
My love
My beliefs
My interests

To free-
My covered and hidden true self,
Out of its darkness-
Free of worry,
Free from judgment

To speak with no words,
Rooted in one another,
Then Interchangeable-
Then I will be understood

-JJ
13/04/25
 351ยฐ 
Filomena Rocca
Here I stand
I'm paralyzed

Not by terror
But by grief

I am a captor
Of the past

Until it fades
Into the dark

There you are
Alive and dead

I see you breathe
I hear you speak

And yet already
You are gone

I lost you, friend
And soon enough

The only thing
Uniting us

Will be our mutual silence
 239ยฐ 
tahsin
There is a beauty
in summer
in the warm winds
caressing your hair

There is a beauty
in sunshine

In endless days
slumbering by
reading Derek Walcott
and Charles Baudelaire.

There is a happiness
in summer
of bright skies
and ice cream parlors.

of fond memories
and fonder friends

For the joys of summer
are never truly forgotten.
 224ยฐ 
Lila
Why does no one care im dying?
Do they not realize?
Do they not see?
My hair is falling out
My hands are shaking
Maybe they donโ€™t hear the cries
Maybe they donโ€™t feel my cold hands and feet
My stomach growls louder
My mind is fuzzy
Can they not notice my baggy clothes
Can they not listen to my whines
The doctors donโ€™t care that Iโ€™m dying
They canโ€™t even tell me why
The doctors donโ€™t care that Iโ€™m dying
Theyโ€™ll just take their money from my grave
 224ยฐ 
Yonah Jeong
Frying egg
light
Yellow
White
One egg
Gradually
To hot heat
Fried:
Their own party.
 210ยฐ 
Michael Sean Maloney
all morning
the cold mists

jeweled tiny pools
upon the stubborn grass

of december
silvering

a single blade
a single strand

of a spiderโ€™s web
simply sparking the grey

of the day
away


life can be like that sometimes


obstinately one side
of the coin

one minute
then joyously the other

one secret second
later
 186ยฐ 
Mira
The delicacy,
that is a woman.

Soft as silk,
sweet like red wine,
tastes of fruitful fertilityโ€”
a dish so rare.
 177ยฐ 
Daniel A Gabbard
I map a function what is real,
To output something that can be.
A map of truthโ€™s appeal,
To a boundless destiny.
 171ยฐ 
apricot
mmm
life feels worse
but good with you in it
 168ยฐ 
Asher Graves
Harder to imagine, Difficult to trust
if you have the will, you gotta clutch.
                                                             -Asher Graves
Yeah this is stupid hahahaha. but hey you must.
 165ยฐ 
Abby
when the sun goes down
behind the trees
and locks her shutters tight

the moon comes out
with silver keys
to open up the night
 161ยฐ 
The Blue Bottles
No. Worse than that.
She loved you in every single one, just not ours.
She cared for me once in all my life when it benefitted her.
And cast you out when it was convenient to save you.
She loved us in all but one.
And we got the shortest straw...
 158ยฐ 
Sia Harms
The brightest faces,
The most promising
Bodies of waterโ€”
Laughs that enchant
Like siren songs--
I remember
Coral is more beautiful
When dead inside.
 156ยฐ 
Mike Adam
Day
There is Morning Fog
Sometimes

There is Illumination
After Noon
Sometimes

If Clarity were Constant-

How would We Know?
 153ยฐ 
Harry Gione
I wish I was a poet
But I'm just another person who learned that puting the letters of the the alphabet together, forms words.
 146ยฐ 
Brandon
Youโ€™re doing so well.
 139ยฐ 
Jack Gisel
Claws rip me inside-out
The path of my spine allows it.
I look up at myself
Surgery scars, shaky limbs,
Pale skin, scabs, and veins.
Iโ€™m slouched over, limp
As fire burns through my bones.
The room is spinning through,
my heart is falling out of my chest
My lungs struggle and shake.
The paramedic questions me,
I see his blurred figure through tears.
They connect the wires,
Words fail me this time.
Sweat is dripping down my body
Cold needles caress me.
This is going to be a long night.
About my recent trip to the ER. I have a couple of chronic health issues, but this is the first time I had to be taken by ambulance. The whole thing was surreal, I tried to capture it in poem form, enjoy!
 137ยฐ 
E
Today I crushed
With my new motorcycle
I wish you knew..

First thing came up to my mind was you
 130ยฐ 
Cheryl Ann Warner
Staring at nature , dreams are near
Right in front of me
Life storms by like a hurricane
When life gives no answers
Ask nature to help
Animals listen
Fresh air, cool breeze
Warm days, different ways
Staring off in space
Feeling calm, quiet solitude
Watching baby bird
Build her nest
Sweet, sweet
Little bird
I canโ€™t believe, I can see
All these animals
In these woods
Staring at nature
 130ยฐ 
Xander Holden
Sometimes I simply can't breathe
Or that's what it feels like to me

And he's not here anymore to point out
That if I can talk to him I'm breathing
That the loud noise in my ears is the air
Rushing in and punching out

He's not here anymore to remind me
It's my mind playing tricks and
Perception is key and its
Just my anxiety
 128ยฐ 
Ryan Geoffrey Hayward
She's fallen from the skies
underneath leaves of green,
Angels cry and will abide
their lost & love goes unseen.
The grey covers over the blue
and down lashes rain and dew,
Skin, teeth, flashing white
will be lost from the light to night.
She won't be buried in a tomb,
but where flowers grow and bloom.
This is going to be a stormy midnight,
as her soul lifts and out of sight.
 123ยฐ 
November Sky
I found you
holding torn poems
like broken wings
telling me
you forgot the key
behind a locked room.

So I sat
on the cracked floor
beside you
and built a map
out of sighs
and stubborn hope.

You donโ€™t need a perfect way outโ€”
just a beginning
even if it looks hopeless
like more hurting.

I gave you my shoulder
the way
rain gives the earth a second chance
the way light waits
beside your door.

And when you canโ€™t believeโ€”
I'll believe twice as hard
with hopeful charm
and hopeless stubbornness.

Through your side
youโ€™ll find the doorโ€”
you will.
Let me know what you think of this track

Through Your Sideโ€”November Sky
https://soundcloud.com/morinheightsqc/through-your-side?si=cf5e7f48be2040e6bb58bfd1ccdc062d&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing
 122ยฐ 
Jimmy silker
To be in a place
Where you feel
The warmth and the grace
Is a thing that
Don't often
Get replaced.
 120ยฐ 
William J Donovan
I buy me a drink
laugh as I think
of yesterday's ink
talk to my shrink
asking questions
making sugestions.
Why do I *******?
It is a cheap date.
 113ยฐ 
Nina
I miss you
and it feels like filling your lungs
all the way
as if to blow up a balloon
but thereโ€™s no balloon
 103ยฐ 
Kylprin
Looking for the words to say
How could I lose control
Of a perfect moment
It's too late to relive it
I followed you back to the beginning
I stayed until I couldn't outlive it
Strayed in a life
I know I can't live in
Looking for a new beginning
 95ยฐ 
Barton D Smock
Dear Ethel Cain

Ants donโ€™t cry or think about teeth. I got this star tattoo that cost a lot.
 89ยฐ 
Amulya Sharma
Just like winter, you made me grow colder and darker.
 89ยฐ 
Emilia B
I will weave a web in the rain
Drops like pearls in the moonlight
Threaded green bag over my head
Fill it with water
Watch it expand until it bursts
Head like a thistle
Swaying
Catcalled by the wind
Soaked sleeves
Wallowing with the wisps
Inhale and hold
 86ยฐ 
Akriti
Dear Shane, you will get well.
You have a long battle ahead.
Fight it with all your might.
Don't give up.

Look straight into the eye of death.
Tell it to go back.

Ask death to come -

when you are 100 years old,
when all your hair turns silver,
and all your teeth fall off.

That is when you will meet death, smiling.
We are with you. Keep on fighting.
 85ยฐ 
Traveler
In the darkest depth of night
No moon, no star, no sight
I find no fear , no foe
In the presents of my soul!

In knowing beyond belief
No longer is life a thief
Imagine the relief..
In a world of so much grief!
Traveler
 84ยฐ 
Skyler M
There's a story woven into the bend of my eyelashes,
Can you get close enough to read the shimmering pattern?
Would you be able to decipher and understand?
Or would they be nothing but eyelashes to you?

Shadow of the pen,

Meet my paper,

Tear it apart,

For my sake.

I keep extending out my expiration date,
Too scared of life to live,
Too scared of death to die,
So, why do I spend these nights,
Wondering what it'd look like,
If I met the blinding light.

Shadow of the pen,

Meet my paper,

Tear it apart,

For my sake.
 81ยฐ 
Morgan Zslnka
Five trucks
Two trailers
Five hours
Two clients
Five forgotten memories
Two missed birthdays
I have a life too
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