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Wesley Wise  Jun 2010
short peoms
Wesley Wise Jun 2010
It is astonishing

how so much can be said

in so few words.
my "Red Wheel Barrow" poem
Breanna Hermann Mar 2013
i clench my fists and curl my toes and close my eyes and just smile at how cute you are. my stomach whirls thinking of you. i feel like i'm in elementary school again and i don't exist.
shaffu shafiq Jan 2016
Sleep sleep sleep.
I am going to sleep.
Like a bear or like a deer.
Without drink of bear.
Sleep sleep sleep.
I am going to sleep.
Just to see a dream.
Floating like a sea bream.
Catching one another.
Playing together.
But it is in sleep.
Sleep sleep sleep.
I am going to sleep.
In my mind your fancy.
Collecting thoughts in frequency.
With you I will walk.
And happily we will talk.
For that I will sleep.
Sleep sleep sleep.
I am going to sleep.
If you will be sad.
I feel bad.
Never hit you.
Never become mad.
To your rejoice.
I will become your choice.
Becoz we are also frnds so deep.
So I have to sleep.
Sleep sleep sleep.
I am going to sleep.
Your anger mood I can study.
Oh my love and my friend buddy.
I know I will persuade you.
It is confirmed and due.
You are my life I already it knew.
For you I will bring a lamb of sheep.
Whom you will feed.
Wipe your tears which will seep.
Never give you chance to weep.
So I need to sleep.
Sleep sleep sleep.
I am going to sleep.
Need you attention and heed.
When my peoms you will read.
Come in my dream with slow speed.
Now i want to sleep.
Sleep sleep sleep.
I am going to sleep.
Preparing myself here.
Oh my lovely dear.
When will you come?
I am always stand with a big warm welcome.
It is all truth not lies.
Now I have to close my eyes.
Dizzy and so tired.
May be I slip and gets down mired.
Blow off my lamp's light.
Good bye and good night.
Feeling faint and sleepy.
Now it is my time to sleep.
Sleep sleep sleep.
I am going to sleep.
GOOD NIGHT....
..
Bjarke  Jun 2017
One line peoms
Bjarke Jun 2017
I write a lot of them
My mind thinks in bursts
So I'm sorry for the format
I bounce back and forth between sad happy and angry
I just want to document it while it's here
Crandall Branch Oct 2017
authors note
Hey Everyone! This is a little peom I made with one line from each of my peoms fused together. It's a little strange but I wanted to represent all of my work. I hope you like it!!! Crandall*





I feel safe with your power
You chomped me and swallowed me whole
you're pitch dark eyelashes, like pitch dark strings
your kindness, happiness, gorgeousity

corporations are evil
crandall's art was super great
our wurld is a mess

you whispered it in my ear as soft as a pillow that i have just fluffled by beating it
i hear your screeches as you sing along to katy perry's "swish swish"
towers of grape, rolling bouncing
my fingers would slide down it like a sheet of paper on a river of melted butter

paper-thin beetle wings,
fear
i love the little *****

eggs remind me of you
the next day i saw you your eye was the size of a glob of clove powder
Or an ant on a log
peoms

That was your licky number,
Don't be ashamed of your hobnobs.

I pear down and see its little legs trembing, shaking in death
the repriduction of the universe
howdy doo
darknes.
my princess, my darling, my murderer

the ocean, salty like my tears
My thoughts were running wild like snip snip
i  g u e s s  t h i s  i s  j u s t  a  c r u e l  w o r l d

i smell you
take the nuts
Your kneecaps
hope you like this strange peom i created!
please leave feedback and comments below! :)
Rexhep Morina  Jan 2015
Lost
Rexhep Morina Jan 2015
While trying to find my self,
I have lost my self,
In depths unreachable,
In darkness invisible.

Breaking the social constructs that I am built in,
A war cry echoed through time and space,
Infinite possibilities unfold in front of my destiny,
A destiny worth a thousand peoms.

Still searching,
Still seeking,
Still looking for that which is me,
A soul confined in a human shell.

Eager to see that which is not visible,
to feel that which is unspeakable,
A sudden awe surrounds my mortal form,
Liberation, freedom.

A unique feel of bliss,
the hand of god has reached for that which is within me,
Awakened I am to the purest form that I be.

Pain, guilt, sorrow and fear,
are vanquished in the blink of an eye,
The heavens await me, as I sail through the vast oceans of infinity.
In order for one self to truly find it self, one must first lose it self.
jay wilson Nov 2012
You are young and beautiful.
You date people who are older and not wise.
You are not a prize but something more special .
You try to impress the person you are dating.
Because you are young you don't know that they should impress you instead.
You're perfect just the way you are.
I wish you could be my lady so I could impress you and try as much as I can to make sure you wouldn't leave me.
Grace is a beautiful name you match it perfectly.
Grace you act like you're in space sometimes but I don't know why.
I hope you atleast read one of my peoms about you.
Amanda Francis Sep 2019
I don't know how to write poetry like I don't know how to kiss you.

Our lips touch, my heart races, but my hands don't know how closely I am able to hold on to you.

If I could write poems I'd tell you how holding you close feels like finding a life jacket when you're lost at sea.

I'd tell you how your smile is the safest place I have ever known. That I've decorated the walls of my heart with your memories so I have somewhere to call home.

But I can't.

When you're around my body becomes a garden.

Butterflies dance around wildly in my stomach, through a meadow of delusion.

Vines grow and twist around my heart, in the same way that they make old ruins beautiful.

My tongue is paradise.

A thousand blooms unfurling in your sunlight, a bed of velvet soft petals with the sweetest nectar you're only too happy to devour.

You gorge away on the sweetest fruits, th nectar, you take your cuttings for ornaments. And when youre done you leave.

Darkness follows in your wake, my eyes become waterfalls, washing any colour that remained until there is only grey.

I can't kiss you. Because I know that afterwards there is a storm without parallel. I know resting my hand on your skin is no longer a silent I love you. More like a moth flying to close to the flame.

And I can't write a poem, because when you leave me, there is nothing left...
Lyan Cordova Aug 2014
I’m exhausted and I feel like ignorning all my teachers to read some poetry and write endless peoms.
Id also enjoy the company of a loving female.

King gentle love would do my aching body and mind some good.
The type of love that leaves their boyfriends extremely jealous and wanting to come up to me (but I’ll explain to them that their girl is a perfect woman and that I did them a favor because they wouldn’t have had stayed faithful to them anyways)

The smell of her sweet perfume
And the touch of her soft gentle skin

While she lays with me while she listens to me ramble about whatever decides to craw into my mind, wether she cares or not.

It wouldn’t even have had been bothered with the half wood and minor headache she’d give me after she left.
Noah H Aug 2016
I used to keep a suicide note in my wallet in case I ever found a building with a view beautiful enough to be my last.
It was a hastily written apology for never being who everyone thought I could be.
It between the faded blue lines, gentle wishes kissed the page, hoping someday someone would see them and they would come true. The middle paragraph carved a hollow spot in my chest as I wrote it.

"My friends. I am sorry. I know you'll never really understand. I hope that you all can forgive me for meeting you in the first place. I love you and I'm sorry I can never truly express it, I know I have class but it feels okay that I can finally be free of them, and you can be free of me."

The words were smudged with bits of alcohol that had dripped from the bottles mouth when I pulled it from mine.
God how I couldn't wait for it all to end.

Then, I met you. I wrote poem after poem hoping youd get the hint. You were my building, my end. Your eyes, the final sky id see, your smile, my last sunset.

I took one of the peoms from my drawer, the first line reads,
       "Her eyes, the forest. The greenest life that could ever grow."
Olliver  Jan 2018
Famous poems
Olliver Jan 2018
famous poems are not personal
famous poems are general
famous poems apply to everyone and make so much sence it hurts
famous peoms are famous because they are presented and taken by everyone
personal poems are not famous
personal poems do not make sence
personal poems do not get famous

O.N.
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