Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
What it takes for a poem to trend
I fail to understand
When you expect the least
It trends and trends
When I am serious and deep
The poem flops like a fish on the deck
May be I "No Poet" category poet!
Anthony Mayfield Feb 2019
It's like moving in slow motion
While the city lights
Br in the fast lane
Cutting me off
Cutting me off
And then
They burn my eyes
While they cut me off
As I rocked to the top
Higher it rose up
But I never stop
I'll never stop
It's all I know
And all I've got
Long live the hard flop
So I'll roll with the punches
And see what I've got
Way to go
Small fry
You're in the big leagues now.
Welcome to the unfiltered real world. You may have been big man on campus, but around here you're small.
Michael Oct 2018
We fight with all we have,
We lose the things that we never had.
Life is one submission after another,
We aim for one, but achieve the other.
We are all here standing,
Ready to take our number,
Completely unaware the we are all going under.
The will to fight is nothing but illusion,
The want to continue is born of confusion.
We all stand strong,
Yet in the end we fold.
We all talk a big talk,
But only our words are bold.
We can give up now,
And be forever content.
Or we can continue,
And be further broken and bent.
Are we broken, or are we beaten? Or are we really never the champion to begin with?
Do you write it on a paper
With black ink
That doesnt bleed
Slip it into your pocket as you walk away from me
Do you shout it from the highest rooftops that touch the clouds or the balconies that stand before you towering those frightening hights
With a voice so fragile it
Can break like stained glass
And a roar so loud
It's heard in every crevice of the land
Do you type it out
With taps of your nimble fingers
Urgent like the constant need to tell
Press send, shut the door, and throw away the key
How do you tell
With a whisper just before you get whisked to sleep
Gentle and soft like the tip of a feather
But passionate like the brush of an artist
How do you tell
Do you write poems that elude to the words
The feelings that burn and beg for release
The skips that my heart does everytime I see you
Do you write songs
With a treble so high the birds can sing
But a bass so low you feel it thumping with your pulse
Lyrics that trap themselves in your mind so you'd never forget
How do you tell
Do I Trace it out on your side
When we lie together at night
While the crickets are chirping
And Mars so bright and red glowing like a lantern in the night
How do you tell
In days where I get these constant reminders like shocks to the arm
Or months where I think of the worse and it yanks me by my feet at night
What about years when everything is bliss and your there to protect me
I can't hold it in
But I can't let it out
its like an
Ulcer on my side
It burns and itches
when I am with you
I want to pick at it and will it away
I want to douse it in water
To scratch till it bleeds out
Spread aloe vera and nurture it to health
Please write the book with happy endings to make your heart swoon
Write that book that I leave on my night stand dresser because I read it so much
Write the songs that get stuck in my head and I listen to on repeat
Paint the canvas that we will hang on our bedroom wall with every color on the spectrum
Paint that canvas to remind me there is never a dull moment with you
Choose a chord with melodies as sweet as peaches and humming bird hum
I need to know
How to tell you I'm in love with you
GreenTrees Jun 2017
A dark alley littered and filled with trash

My mood changes faster than Johnny spends his cash.

A merry-go-round that spins much too fast

and where it stops no one knows

I feel what I feel what ever way the wind blows.

My minds made up and it shows

And just when you think you had enough

there it goes...



- Karl v. 2017
5 minute poems
To compensate for (A -Z)
     ineradicable alphanumeric
     character flaws (i.e. mutations
     of body or mind,)

     and avoid amass
sing wracking up vexatiously
     undesirable threatening class
action lawsuit against

     Matthew Scott Harris,
     which preliminary measure
     taken to avoid disembarrass
sing said individual as

     a majorly flawed individual
literal shortcomings of body,
     mind and spirit,
     the metier of writing doth encompass

a creative realm to trump
     geomorphology, sans groundmass
at the unsolicited expense
     (mine alter ego i.e. worst critic)

     will gleefully find,
     and expose grammatical,
     misspelling, spelling,
     et cetera errors to harass

glommed together with isinglass
hop, skip and jumping
     to appear as a *******
whereat no respect

     able collegiate lass
would give a fig about me,
     one totally tubular royal morass,
which expert anthropologists

     stumped asper nonclass
     if eye able ****
     sapiens mutant ninja turtle
case in point being his

     wanting in height not e'en pass
     sing the six foot mark
     plus mental illness
     perhaps traceable to

     besotted cognitive damage
     inherited predecessors
     quaffing an overdose of quass
made obvious peering at resulting

     Ct scan results viewed
     via microscopic spyglass
revealing abnormal amygdala
automatically designating
     his aptitude underclass
among average human
     with mettlesome Zeusian brass.
Laz Farrell Feb 2018
Can’t get my head round the email
“Help me get it right”
“It’s why you do what you do”
“What you do best”
“This will wipe out the opposition”
After much soul searching he took the role
A fugitive who lives with an urban family
An honest story that comments on our times
Or an expensive risk?
It’s a case in point
I could tell you stories you couldn’t print.

A deal was made
Much needed publicity
This one can’t miss
A sure fire winner
Lavishly budgeted?
Almost everything was shot at the ranch....
I Remember the poster in the foyer
“The Goal of the assassin”
“Two ****** hours”
Initially the subject of media ridicule
An eyesore trashed traded or hauled away
Luckily fast forgotten
It died a humiliating death
Poetic T Jun 2015
You never know
How long the
Next one will last
A little rude :) but there is truth in the words :)
Swathi eruvaram Jan 2015
Tiny feet taking a walk
Small and steady steps
Careful not to trip down
Still not sure of which foot goes where
Sometimes right, sometimes wrong
Busy strolling around
Little baby in momma's big flip flops

— The End —