Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Sep 2016
Isabelle
Working during daylight
Studying late night

Away from home
Makes me feel alone

Black circles under my eyes
Doing my best not to cry

There are times I almost gave up
There are times I wished I could go back

But the wind always whispers something
"You've come too far, you're almost there"

A flicker of smile
My hope didn't die
Almost there, almost. No matter what the result is, I will be proud of myself.
 Sep 2016
SilentMetanoia
Girls like her
were born in a storm.
They have lightning in their souls,
Thunder in their hearts,
and chaos in their bones.
 Sep 2016
ryn
There lived a man, a crooked man
Whose end had threatened and came
His dice were cast before he exhaled his last
Still no one really knew his name

Dawn came swift with the sun in tow
And a breeze full of fresh hale air
Morning light shone with a fist full of hope
And found the man laid sordidly bare

Stiff as a board with his hair unkempt
He wore his skin pallid and grey
His eyes closed with lips slightly parted
He'd left with something to say

In this coat, behind the lapel
Hid quietly a small unseen pocket
In it was found a quaint little note
Tucked in folds within a weathered wallet

The paper stained yellow and tattered at the edges
Suggesting that it was long and old
It had cracked with time, smeared with dirt and grime
And on it was ink written stark and bold

Know this man, the crooked man
Who seemed to meet with death in vain
See this man, the crooked man
Who finally broke free from his ball and chain
Part 4 of 6
 Sep 2016
Paul Hansford
If you read somebody’s poem and it makes you want to say,
“I think this piece is wonderful; it really made my day,”
just go ahead and say it – feedback like this is good,
but saying why you like it will please them (well, it should).

If someone that you don’t know says, “Please comment on my writing,”
and you look at it, and find it … let’s say, rather unexciting,
then don’t forget – be tactful, find something good to say
before you start on finding fault – don’t ruin someone’s day.

And if you think it’s terrible, be careful how you speak.
Some people write as therapy; their life may be quite bleak.
Don’t be too harshly critical and leave them feeling worse,
but simply go to look elsewhere, and just ignore their verse.

Some poems, though, may leave you with a puzzle or a question,
or even make you want to give some tentative suggestion.
There’s nothing wrong with doing this – just get it off your chest,
but don’t think your ideas are necessarily the best.

With members, though, who claim they are God’s gift to Poesy,
(if there’s nothing to commend them as far as you can see)
you can state your own opinion – of course you have the right –
but don’t forget the golden rule: *be honest but polite.
I have to confess, I wrote this one some tme ago for a different site, where it was boringly common for people to ask you to comment their writing, without commenting the other person's first, which explains the somewhat grumpy two stanas now deleted.  The principle, however, still stands.
If you want to make suggestions, etc., as in stanza 4,  it is by far the best to do this by private message, so that you don't appear to be setting yourself up as some kind of authority.
 Sep 2016
Graff1980
Turquoise children
In the field
Like some acid trip
Or *** plant with a low yield
Purple flowers
Prancing posies
Posing in the summer wind
Dandelions
Yellow flowers
Over there is were
Beauty begins
 Sep 2016
r
I recall
her lost smile

like a sketch
I draw from my memory

and those days in the rain
laughing, drops

hitting the creek
slow as a dream

until a shadow
fell across the mirror

brushing her hair
in a dark room

like a honeycomb
of sad bees

and double entendres
two lifetimes ago.
 Sep 2016
Paul Butters
Atmosphere pervades this place:
A subtle, spiritual background
So surreal.
Far from haunted manors
Or flashing disco halls.
Soundless surrounds ****** my soul
As I’m serenaded by serenity.
Peaceful plains becalmed:
Punctuated only by gently rustling trees
And the distant twittering of birds.
I cannot feel any force
Except some sublime emanation
Of peace and tranquility.
Satisfaction soothes my mood
As I make the most of these lingering moments.
So good to chill out in the snug
Of my local pub.

Paul Butters
I even surprised myself with the ending.
Next page