Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
The wonder of
A bird’s nest,
Their songs, so beautiful,
Put the mind to the test.
How do they know?

"Oh, instinct."

The mystery
Of electricity,
What is it, truly?

"Well, it’s just... electricity."

Have you caught
A stranger's gaze,
Felt a friend’s name rise,
Only for them to call?
Yes! And?

"Coincidence."

Have you noticed –
No matter who’s in power,
The rich grow richer,
While the poor
Sink deeper?

"Are you a conspiracy theorist?"

All matter
Is merely energy condensed
To a slow vibration,
That we are all
One god consciousness
Experiencing itself subjectively,
There is no such thing as death

"Hippy ****"

And so we circle –
Words falling short,
Walls unbroken.
"All matter is merely energy condensed" is borrowed from a Bill Hicks show.
Nick Moore Apr 11
The chaos rained  down,
Cracks appeard upon the ground,
Every man,
Every woman,
For themselves.
Gods of Gods and their gods,
Were confused about what to do!
Through it all
Two people's eyes met,
Two
Wounded souls,
Will always recognise each other.
Nick Moore Apr 5
Six degrees of separation,
I see you
At the station,
Strangers bound by threads unseen,
Stories stitched where gaps have been.

Your glance meets mine, a fleeting spark,
Echoes carried through the dark.
Through hands we've held and roads we've crossed,
Connections found, though never lost.

A friend of yours once knew a face,
That lingers now in distant place.
And here we stand, so close yet far,
Entwined like constellations are.

Six degrees, a fragile chain,
Linking joy and loss and pain.
In every turn, the ties remain,
And strangers softly feel the same.
  Mar 30 Nick Moore
badwords
I was born beneath a stovetop sermon,
raised on smoke and the echo of “just like him.”
She lit the burner,
called it love,
then blamed the fire when I blistered.

I learned early:
affection has teeth.
That mirrors are weapons
if someone else gets to hold the frame.

So I went looking—
not for love,
but for permission.
To be, without revision.
To feel, without rehearsal.

And they came,
each with open arms
and blueprints in their back pockets.
They didn’t say change.
They said better.
They meant less.

I gave what I could,
which was always everything.
And when that wasn’t enough—
I gave the shape of myself too.

But still I stood.
Not clean. Not cured.
Just standing.
Wobbly maybe, but mine.

Now, here—again—
I feel the heat in the glance,
the tremor in the words:
"Don’t idealize me."
But isn’t that the perfect bait?

Still, I stay.
Still, I watch.
Because I’ve learned to name the difference
between a flame and a forge.

I am not the boy at the stove anymore.
I am the man with the match—
and the scars to prove
I know when to walk away
and when to burn with purpose.

So if I burn now,
it will not be in silence.
It will not be for someone else’s comfort.

It will be because I chose
to stand in the fire
as myself,
and finally,
stay.
Engulf is a raw, introspective free verse poem that explores the psychological weight of childhood trauma, the complexities of romantic relationships shaped by formative wounds, and the slow journey toward self-reclamation. The speaker reflects on being cast in the shadow of a parent’s unresolved resentment, inheriting emotional roles not of their own making. This early dynamic becomes a foundation for a series of adult relationships in which affection is offered only on the condition of transformation—of becoming someone safer, more malleable, more convenient.

Using fire as a recurring metaphor—both as danger and as forge—the poem charts a movement from vulnerability to clarity. The speaker recognizes a lifelong tendency to over-invest, to seek validation at the cost of self, and ultimately, to mistake manipulation for intimacy. Rather than arriving at a dramatic ******, Engulf builds toward quiet resolve: the decision to stand in one’s own fire, no longer shaped by external blueprints, no longer asking permission to exist as is.

In Engulf, the author confronts the cyclical nature of emotional projection and internalized identity distortion. The poem serves as both personal reckoning and a broader commentary on how unresolved familial dynamics often echo into adult relationships. Rather than casting blame, the piece investigates the subtle ways in which individuals are conditioned to compromise their authenticity in pursuit of love and acceptance.

The poet's intent is not to moralize or to position the speaker as a victim, but to depict a moment of awakening: a realization that authenticity, though difficult and often lonely, is preferable to the ongoing erosion of self. With restrained emotional language and clear metaphorical resonance, Engulf offers a nuanced perspective on healing—not as a destination, but as a commitment to remain whole in the face of recurring patterns.
Nick Moore Mar 29
A visit to my teacher's house,
While he's talking,
I wounder where the ducks go in winter.

Been expelled,
Better go to the dormitory,
A rage of jealously,
I attack my room mate,
****** nose, hunting hat
Back to front,
I head for New York.

Booking into a hotel,
I dance with three girls,
Pay for their drinks
And off they go,
The elevator guy,
Offers me a girl, I agree,
she knocked at my door!
But I'm a ******, you see,
So we just talk.

I decided to go home, to see my sister, don't want to see my parents, so
I silently enter, go to her room,
She's sleeping so I wake her,
"Why are you home?"
I tell my tale,
"Dad will go crazy!"
Kids tell it straight,
I tell her to meet me later, at the
Museum, off I go, without a sound.

Waiting for my sister,
Watching how people act,
What happens when we grow up?
Most are phonies to me.
I see my sister, so carefree and real,
Do you want to ride the
carousel?
She's so happy, as we arrive,
Picking her favourite horse,
Time to take a ride.

So I'm just busy here watching the wheels
Go round and round,
No longer riding on the merry-go-round,
I'd had some dark thoughts
About what to do next,
But this song came into my mind,
And I just had to let it go,
I'll take my sister home,
Tell mum and dad,
Start a new school
Life ain't to bad.
Nick Moore Mar 22
Black lightening
In
Reverse,
Not a leaf to be seen,
Stars glistening
In-between

Holding steady,
Wind
Is
Wild,
Shadows dance
With the
Flowing
Grass.
Nick Moore Mar 17
Desiring Deseray,
Causes suffering.
Next page