Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Nov 2021
Sarita Aditya Verma

Colours in the sky
Blend into the blue

Golden yellow
The mellow sun

Bids adieu
Slides to the west

Slender and tall
The shadows fall

Sudden rains
A little downpour

Shiny wet
The platform gets

Daily
Life goes on

Moments to moments
Faces change

It’s a journey
Destinations await
Inspired by a painting
The artist - Prafull Hudekar
 Nov 2021
Elizabeth Kelly
I’m an imposter.

I’m an imposter and no one can know.

I may end up on the street in rags that once were my clothes.

Money isn’t everything,
But being poor blows

And I’m facing the clock.

What then felt like freedom now feels like a box;

Like a long leash
in a big yard
Where the gate’s always locked.
 Nov 2021
Elizabeth Kelly
Look around and tell me, who’s happy?
Isn’t happiness the goal above all?
Or rather to avoid feeling sorry
For ******* away the springtime in spite of the fall?
 Nov 2021
Elizabeth Kelly
I’ve been thinking a lot
Almost obsessively
About identity, how’s its tied to self worth
I self identify as an artist
It’s what I’ve always wanted,
A gift bestowed at birth

The very word was full of glamour and mystery
I couldnt possibly be chosen as a vessel
When in reality, it changes with each donning,
morphing size and shape to fit the figure of the dresser
Art is for everyone. Everyone has art in their soul if they know where to look for it.
 Oct 2021
Elizabeth Kelly
It’s always basements
Or attics
Whichever puts the most air
Between the dreamer and the sleeper
Always utility space

Accommodate

Moving so slowly
Eventually the music will absorb
The slow tide low tide rhythms of the night time

The negative of the blueprint is the true intention of the dreamer
Living in a palace built by the sleeper
What would the songs sound like had they been written during waking hours
 Oct 2021
Monotone
Am I too fat, or too skinny?
Am I too loud, or too quiet?
Am I too tall, or too short?
Am I too happy, or too sad?
Am I too outgoing, or too shy?
Am I too rich, or too poor?
Am I too tan, or too pale?
Am I too ugly, or too pretty?
Am I too much, or too little?

If you're going to tell me
What society thinks I should be
Then at least set a realistic standard.
 Oct 2021
Francie Lynch
We've been... a... part... so long;
We've not been... to...gether, a... lone.
Together alone.

I hear the lonely house sounds
Of dripping, creaking, and window wind whoshes;
The semi-muted fiber optic sounds;
The various vehicles dopplering past.
These I hear in my fractured second,
Before asking, "How ye doin?"
Which shatters into glass the silence
Held too long between us.
But now we are alone, together, alone.
A silent alone, together.
 Oct 2021
jdmaraccini
Liars and thieves
full of selfish greed
found the need
to butcher and feed
on every inch of my integrity.
So I repay the fee
with eloquent misery
and conjure poetry
calibrated for the annihilation
of my enemy.
Yet in the end
the truth be told,
the greatest enemy
is me.
© JDMaraccini 2013
 Sep 2021
Jessica Head
You are selfish
Don't be expecting to get my babies from me.
You accused me for years.
Yet you still act so innocent.
Grown *** man
Can't be an adult
Has to put everything on reverse
Put every little lie on me.
I'm pretty sure every one knows you
And you do that to me.
Everyone knows you.
I don't have to tell anyone
Cause they already know
You lied to my face.
When i seen you cheating.
You come back inside throwing me around.
Almost beating me up.
Cause I caught you.
You still denied the two little boys we have together.
You keep saying
"They're not mine".
So 6 or 7 years going on with this pretend life you wanted.
Babies you say that aren't yours.
I think I'm done here.
He knows I'm pregnant with my 4th. His 3rd biological baby with me.
And he still says it's not his.
So i think I'm done.
Me and my little ones are going to go hide in a shelter somewhere.
You don't deserve us.
Wheres your fukking *****.
I'm sorry i bothered having your babies.
Or whoever babies you think these are.
Lol.
Only I know.
I'm too honest
I'm too loyal.
No man is going to tie me down.
Or put me 6 feet under.
After this pregnancy
I'm tieing the notts.
No more babies for me.
Because there father doesn't have *****.
All he wants is baby making ***.
He can't even admit these are his babies he has with me.
But whatever.
Go live a lie by yourself.
 Sep 2021
Jessica Head
10 years to be exact
I've been on this on website.
That's a long time.
I thought I would've been famous by now
*****
I'm not all that good at poetry.
Or writing.
 Sep 2021
Elizabeth Kelly
“I think there’s something wrong with you and that’s okay,” she sings with all her heart
and strums the guitar with my pick.
I’m in charge of the chords,
holding the guitar so
she can reach it where she sits.
We dream it up together, but
I phone it in
I admit.

A, D, E - 1, 4, 5 -
arbitrarily chose.
She keeps it alive with her prose
Just 5 years old
A poet with her eyes closed.

You can be anything you want to be, and that’s okay as long as you’re happy.

Like she knows
The greatest longings of the whole of humanity,

Like she’s peered into the depths of the vast ocean of broken hearts,
And know this is the best place to start…

Like it’s easy.

“It’s okay”, she sings with closed eyes,
and strums the guitar in musical bliss.

And it is. For that moment. For a heartbeat.

It is.
Next page