Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
When I have a daughter,
I feel I'll have to make some decisions.
For the sake of simplicity,
Let's equate them to poetry.

Limericks are one way to live,
With structure, but fun left to give
Though we'll love each other,
I'll still be her mother,
And that part, I hope she'll forgive

Or we could live like haikus,
Simple and structured,
With emphasis on order.

Why don't we live freeverse?
No rules, no rhymes, no reason.
We don't need those things to be happy.
We'll have each other, after all.

This is simply speculation,
I'm not especially certain
What I'll do when I have a daughter.
This is an old one, but I found it in my drafts and thought it was pretty decent sooooooo


<Insert Poem Here>

<Insert Silent Sympathies Here>

<Insert Spiraling Tenancies Here>
   (Wait...No. Not that.)
<Delete Line>

<Insert Self Doubt Here>

<Insert Friends Here>
   [File Not Found]
::Comment:: What about me?

<Insert Apology Here>

<Insert Regret Here>

<Insert Pain Here>

<Insert Poem Here>

Bragi Jul 2018
There was younce a ong man named Billy
He knew his brilly was so srain
He went to the docblem
And they told him his protor
Was heartbreak.

His wuddled were now mords
And young Boubled was trilly
Because love would never be the same.
This one is a bit of an experiment. The words are deliberately muddled so it takes a small bit of figuring out. I see it almost like a little riddle or puzzle; confusing but a representation of what’s going on in the ‘persons’ head.
Elizabeth Zenk Jun 2018
Stop shouting at my mother


I don't want to hear your voice


Why don't you understand


I don't want to live in this 'home'


Nobody does


So I'm sorry I have to do this


I have to run away from here



I'll never run far enough
Seanathon May 2018
Pull the paper from the walls
   The color from the tiles beneath
Pull my mind from the strangers way
   And title me, not as one thing
But as first and foremost, THE SON of a king
To him all goodness is owed. Amen.
SoZaka Apr 2018
A stationary set for my 21st birthday
going the right way since I turned wrong
one other lover than the one I've got
my head and my heart have fought
like this before

a mistake to hit the gas off the cliff with a
soul made of glass
I fell out of my mind and right back in
no way to stop from going your direction
fly butterfly on a railroad cloud
through a one way sky
my train is on to your station
in just a moments time
addiction,  self love following your intuition and guidance self development growth transformation
Uka Nov 2017
Sadly, I am null. I can see nothing but forest. Dense and thick as shadows in midnight lights. Can I still see them for what they are? What purpose do I, as a simple body, take from such feeling? I haven’t missed a beat. Never off of scale or rhythm long enough to catch the tempo. This is the feeling I can muster up after half a day. Like cream isn’t sweet enough for strong coffee. Or the rain doesn’t fall hard enough to break the ground. A mind can only hold a candle to the objects that surround it. But what prime can I count to that will get me closer. May I be able to count that high? Can someone such as me count on the speed of time to solve problems for me? This is only a simple thought or play in my book. I can sit for hours and count how many evil intentions I have passed. Every single human being cannot and will not comply. I think this is why we see evil as such. A good person can say a good person. But I don’t see this as solid as the sentence. A bad person can still be bad after a good thing. But a good person is holding true to good even after a bad thing? What bad measures does a good person have to do to be bad? What questions press against my forehead like rocks and soft sand. The amount of time I have placed on this plain can weight a mountain’s ton. We as people cannot feel a ton though. No human can lift it or experience the difficulty. So how do we know what it is? It is just a word and a number measuring what we as people cannot achieve. Sadly, this too is something a ponder about as I press on a mental quest. I sat in a chair long enough that my knees decided it was time to weaken. I have had this feeling before, but not with a good outcome. I begin to walk around the room as normal. No purpose of course, just as some track around the fake wooden furniture. I skim my hands across water swollen surfaces from missing costars and melted ice in glasses. I have to side step to get around stools and piles of sand from beach trips and communal drinking fits. I have had friends over of course, but none stayed too long so see this of me. I may not look like the type to keep a secret or thought to myself. I am more open the usual as of right now. I can chip away at a keyboard or book. I can perform mindless tasks better than the rest of the world. I can blend into the surface long enough to take a life-time of conversations in an hour’s time. I can walk outside and feel wind before it comes. When rain falls, my eyes begin to water at drops that weren’t from water. I think we as people haven’t understood each other enough. Maybe it’s a people thing to be so ignorant to this fact.
Pray the rain won't spoil your picnic
As you scan the morning sky
Take an extra rainproof poncho
To keep the picnic table dry.

As you scan the morning sky
Look for red clouds in the East
And recall the Sailor's warning.

Take an extra rainproof poncho
Maybe an umbrella too
And one of those big blue tarpaulins

To keep the picnic table dry
Then have faith that God still loves you
And the sun will shine all day.
Not very good at this format, but trying to get the hang of it.
Next page