Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 1129° 
Liana
So you know how sometimes when you start to give up on humanity
someone wonderful happens?
Like when you just walking somewhere and a stranger says that they like your outfit
Or someone that you've never before smiles and waves
And you think that maybe
People aren't so bad?

My idea of a successful life
Is to be that person
As many times as I can
 769° 
Cynthia
⚠️ TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️

Red was the color of the water
when I jumped into a river
that was too shallow for me to dive into.

In those short 5 seconds,
I soared through the winds.
The air pressure nearly enough to rip me to shreds.

Those 5 seconds when my skin peeled off from my back,
I grew wings.

They lit on fire,
and I burned with them,
and it was almost soothing.

The pain was a reminder that
I was alive,
even if it was only for 5 short seconds.

In the brink of death,
I felt the most alive I had in years.

I don't know if it was the wind
or the fact that I was burning.
But in those five seconds,
I was a human.
Something I had been alienated from my whole life.

I was dead before I hit the gravel.
My body twisted in all types of different directions,
and when the police found me,
they had already pronounced me as deceased.
A bit of a deeper one, but felt nice to release.
 551° 
Poisoned Wells
Hypnotizing beauty
hides ugliness inside,
while the ugly,
are of angels weeping.

Hide your venom to shame,
while the misunderstood
are guilty of  sick pride
upon knocks of hollow wood

Place another slice of timber,
into the fires you hinder,
You judge the flesh only
no such true prettiness

Skin is lust and love,
in hollow shaped hands,
raining so grimly above,
true fake hearts,
glamorously
they always sink
in the quick-sand,
while Angels,
surf upon land.
 448° 
Jimmy silker
You ever get that sudden surge?
You  Don't know where that it came from
A salty pulse behind the eyes
That swells
Then leaves your skull
A smell
A taste
A tune
A movie
A wave from those
That have gone on
A hail from heart to brain
From where
They now belong.
 359° 
afrota
Do not rewrite the past.
No hand can erase
what time has carved
in wounded skin.

Let your oldest notebook
inscribe the first line
of a new tale —
written in fresh tears
and the sweat
of becoming
a future still unfolding.
 265° 
Yu
Pain and resentment
Back and forth I rock
Shake and stake
My hopes on a door lock
Keys and birthday cake
All I do is take
Just wondering if you meant it then?
(11 May 2025)
 262° 
Ivan
people say that
'talk is cheap'

and so that is why
Poets write!
 240° 
Rubyredheart
Sad
Of course my heart would break for either:
death is death.
“code Adam” in the store today
fused my heart with his parent’s
heart beating fearfully for Wilder
age 7 in an orange shirt…
at least He was found
Love is fleeting;
not promised,
nor permanent.
But if you look for it--
you'll see,
always Present.
*titular Daniel Johnston homage, 1984
 228° 
Lostling
Your guiding hands are always there
To catch me when I fall.
Soft combs through my tangled hair
Hugs, a protective wall.

Your strength's a roaring lioness,
Your heart burning so bright,
Fighting through the crushing stress.
You burn away the night
Happy Mother's Day!
 222° 
Louise
𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴, 𝘐 𝘰𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
For all of the books I’ve read, I thank you.
And for all of the magazines I’ve enjoyed, too.
My first notes and love letters, you are the recipient.
Written all for you, to tell you that you’re heaven-sent.
𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴, 𝘐 𝘰𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
I learned my ABC’s because of you.
All of my first words were taught by you, too.
I would learn more languages for you, create more art,
Just so I could tell you over and over; “I love you to my heart”
𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴, 𝘐 𝘰𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
Because of you, my first colors were not shades of blue.
Thanks to you, I am chasing after my dreams, both old and new.
My books are the jewels in your crown.
My poetry is your kingdom come.
𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴, 𝘐 𝘰𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
You were there when I first picked up a pencil,
you are still here as you open this poem with a seal.
You are the queen of my letters and poems,
you are the angel of my hopes and dreams.
𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴, 𝘐 𝘰𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
Mother's day 2025 special, 2/2
 213° 
Benjamin Davenport
I can’t get her off my mind
You’d think I’d like this find
I thought alc was supposed to help you forget
Bet
Naw she still creeps in my brain
It goes around like a circle train
I might be a little drunk 😛
we hold death as if it were our bride loyal
and unwavering in her resolve to reunite
with us right at precipice of our uncertainty
always insistent, always watchful are her soft eternal hands, for as long as birth exists so does death and for as long our children are born and their mother call to them it matters not what language they are lulled with;  they are ours.
My Mexican culture
Don’t walk too far away, yet.
Stay close, flesh of my flesh.
I always want to be able hold you.
For now.
Let my eyes never lose sight.
Your mother I’ll ever be.
There will be enough time
when you leave.
Please human, don’t hurt him.



Shell ✨🐚
Happy and blessed Mother’s Days to all mothers.
Mothers always pray for their children.
There will come that time to let them go.
Please always protect them.
 176° 
Rin
Please let me go.
not because i didnt love you,
but because we were never meant to be.
please let me go.
we walked the wrong paths,
or maybe i did.
it was wrong to love you,
you tore my heart and patience.
we arent soulmates,
i was just confused,
you didnt love me,
until you had to let go.
love that waits,
isnt true love.
You're hurting me too.
let me go
i also wrote this poem in my all poetry account- so no i didnt copyright :D
 163° 
RandleFunk
Wondrous miracle
Golden shards weave through green arms
Lost by tiny screens
 147° 
ShifaShahid
Rotten apple, Wilted roots, Withered leaves
Feeble branches, tampered growth, Barren tree
Standing alone, in a deserted land despondently
This is a picture of the world without humanity
 145° 
badwords
We split rock once—
shards of hunger and breath
pressed into cryptic veins,
every groove a fever-etched omen
by fists that blistered and bled.

We flayed parchment—
flax and hide peeled raw,
stretched across centuries
to net the writhing unsaid,
ink: venom & sacrament.

We conjured letters,
a thousand spitting iron serpents,
casting skeleton alphabets
to ignite riots—
movable, yes,
but never self-possessed.

The tool is never the delirium.
Never the rupture.
Never the feral gasp.

We carved eyes—
glass cyclopes staring down suns,
mechanical maws drinking shadows,
spitting back sleek carcasses,
veneer masquerading as soul.

We dreamt in circuits,
cipher-prayers & soulless sutras,
automata with twitching limbs
that build, disassemble,
mocking the cathedral
but never kneeling.

And now—
the algorithm howls:
“I will etch your myth.
I will ululate your grief.
I will sculpt the marrow of your truth.”

It lies.

A hammer pounds—
but does not conjure the cathedral’s ache.
A brush bristles—
but does not thirst for the canvas’s hush.
A neural grimoire can mimic,
can multiply until the world chokes
on infinite carbon copies—
but nothing blooms
without the sickness of being alive.

Art is incision.
A holy theft.
A blood rite against oblivion.

We do not tremble before tools.
We seize them—
splinter them—
forge new weapons
from their debris
because we are insatiable,
because we are drowning,
because we are—
human.

Let the hollow vessels hum.
Let the scaffolders scaffold.
Let the parrots shriek
their pallid mantras.

The craft will not save you.
The code will not save you.
Only the hand sunk deep into the blaze—
only the breath fogging the glass—
only the voice that shreds the quiet
because it must,
again and again and again.

Until there is nothing left.
In a forge where ghosts barter with empty vessels, this poem traces the arc of humanity’s relentless hunger to etch spirit into matter. Each stanza is a rung on a scaffold built from sacrificed skins, shattered eyes, and iron tongues, spiraling toward a cathedral that machines can only mimic but never inhabit.

The algorithm—a shimmering siren in synthetic robes—offers false communion, promising to sculpt truth from hollow codes. Yet beneath its sterile hum, the poem cracks open the core wound: that art, real art, is not birthed by echo but by **the compulsion of mortal hands scorched by their own need to mean. **

A hymn to the unquenchable fire, a dirge for the tools that mistake reflection for genesis, this is a revolt against the smooth and the soulless—a reminder that only the flesh-inked, breath-tethered, ruin-hungry voice can breach the silence that consumes us all.
 143° 
Fatimah odunmbaku
I want wings so I may fly
So, I may flea
Does the bird enjoy flight
I want wings so I may be free
So, I may see the world
But I cannot become what I am not
I would trade lives with a bird
I want wings so I may flea from my burdens
So, I may flea from what hurt me
But would running ever be enough to escape the past
To undo what has been done,
Would my past always chase me
Even if I could fly like the eagle would my past not haunt me
I want to be free of the shackles that my past has created around my feet
But even if I could fly would it be enough
Not one of my best, but I hope it means a lot to some people out there
 141° 
Akriti
Not by the mean faces
I see everyday ,
who smile
with a mask on.

Not by the harsh voices
I hear everyday,
that always
pull me down.

But by the unseen faces,
by their unheard voices,
only their words-
the wisdom within...

I am inspired.
 129° 
nivek
God knows what He is doing
even if Donald does not
 123° 
Chloe
A soul so sad
A lonely feather falls
The sea begins to calm
I wipe my tears
The mask slips on
Don’t let them see me cry
 118° 
Silas McKenney
You were drawn to my shine,
To the light in my steps, my aura, my time.
You walked beside me all the while,
Curious-why do I smile?

I spoke of joy, of a heart that glows,
Of peace within, the love I know.
But you had none, you’d lost your spark,
And sought to ***** out all my dark.

You didn’t want to see me grow
You only came to steal my glow.
Sappy lover
 103° 
Travis Green
He was my everything
My legendary loverman
The heavenly poetry in my chest
The man of my dreams
That owned every part of me

I couldn’t contain myself
He had me undone, unhinged
Drunk on him to the brim
I felt his mind-blowing fire
Streaming through my veins

His super sensational thugness
Flooding my bloodstream
His energy, electric and unprecedented
His broad, battle-born chest
His tasty abs, so breathtaking to gaze at
Biceps and triceps that made me
Melt like crazy in his embrace

He was an action-packed ocean
Of mouthwatering poetry
Every wave a line of sublime rhymes
Every ripple so irresistible
Everything about him
A high-voltage masterpiece
Of adrenaline-drenched masculinity
 100° 
Jolan Lade
My fear is you
It is rare
But when it is me
It is true
My fear is me
It is rare
But when it is you
It is true

 99° 
Sherri Woodman
Today I got a hug, out of the blue                                                             ­     
                                                           ­                                                               
and it even came with an "I love you''                                                            ­    
                                                            ­                                                        
Such a simple kind gesture                                                          ­                                                  
              ­                                                                 ­                               
  It brought me such pleasure                                                         ­                     
                                                                ­                                                          
It picked me up when I felt down                                                             ­                       
                                         ­                                                                 ­      
  turned my day totally around                                                           ­                 
                                                                ­                                                  
  Just when I thought no one cared                                                            ­            
                                                                ­                                        
someone loved me, someone shared
 99° 
Jay Lewis
It’s that moment of dread,
where everything gets intense,
where I only see red.
Where I only see red.

The anger comes bursting out,
like an animal on the prowl,
It’s digging it’s teeth in now.

It’s that moment of doubt,
where these vicious thoughts of mine,
are closing in on my mind.

Everything goes red.
These vultures are picking off what’s left.
I remember every bad thing that was said.
God sometimes I wish I was dead.
 96° 
nvinn fonia
i dugg a hole really deep 1 then i blew it upp boom !!!!!!!!everything wwent  to hell
 85° 
Druzzayne Rika
My Motherland, my mother,
Your heart is a boundless sea,
The kindest love you've offered,
Pouring endlessly on me.

In seasons fair and darkest night,
Your gentle hand has guided,
A constant, unwavering light,
In your warm embrace resided.

Yet shadows creep, the terror's touch,
A cruel and chilling reign,
Seeking to take far too much,
Bringing sorrow, bringing pain.

But sweet mother, strong and true,
Your kindness never wanes,
We stand as one, devoted to you,
Breaking these terror's chains.

This pest, this foe, we'll drive away,
With hearts united, righteously,
Together, till the final stand,
United, hand in loyal hand.
 77° 
Zhanara
Love is lie
Don't believe in it
Love yourself is true
Don't lose it.
author: Zhanar
 73° 
Ivan
Sea-
So near,untouched
Yet I feel
Your cold.

Your jagged surface,
A blackened sapphire-blue.
Snow peaks drift like islands
in your remote expanse.

Sea,I am not your lover.
But I gaze at you
With the same eyes.
 72° 
Colby
The world bites and leaves
teeth. Open wounds form gnashing
mouths on the victim
In shadows where my dreams once glowed,  
An imaginary friend’s tales overflowed.  
In that world, fears take flight,  
Yet by day, I'm gripped by fright,  
A scary solitude, weakness bestowed.  

With memories softly entwined,  
In this paradise world, solace I find.  
But mental illness creeps near,  
Loneliness whispers here,  
As I wander through fragments of mind.
Darkness
 71° 
Nwafor Oji Awala
I never walk alone
Son of my father
Blood of my ancestors
Careful as cat
Silent as snake
Brave as honey badger
Strong as polar bear

Blood of my ancestors
Son of my father
I never walk alone

(c) Nwafor Oji Awala
Ogale
2025
The poem centers around a deep connection with my ancestry.
 71° 
Marco Langmann
And now? Who knows…
 70° 
Salmabanu Hatim
Is perfect,
But if it sticks together,
Then it is unbreakable.
 65° 
jan oskar hansen
Peace

A glorious morning in the bay of Cascais
seven coastal ships on a mirror.
Stilleben
Sunday, the crew are asleep
except for a cook who is up preparing
breakfast

This could be a picture of eternity
but a small motorboat breaks the mirror
leaves a white scar that heals itself

The sky is softly blue, and white clouds are
sun-flecked  and in no haste going anywhere
on this day of bliss
 53° 
silvervi
It’s not happening as you expected? So what? How do you know that what you wanted to happen was for the best?
Embrace the challenges. Embrace the unexpected. That way, you’re unstoppable.
I know it's hard sometimes. But we can grow so much! 💓
 53° 
lizie
open hello poetry
search your last name
click on your profile
check for new poems
(they’re not common
but they come in floods)
write poems
contemplate the what-ifs
feel immense sadness
(for no reason)
it’s nothing new
Next page