Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Millions of poems
Millions write
Who to read
Difficult to decide
Search for the
Brand names
Some of them
You may like
Start reading them
Add new brands
To your list
Halo effect
Horn effect
Would decide
Who to read
What to read
How much to read
If you have penchant
To write
Do write
It's a supplementary diet
No nutritionist, no doctor
Millions of poems
Millions write
Who to read
It's difficult to decide
Betty Apr 13
Long ago,
when earth was clean and silver bright
an angel fell, compelled by vast eternal might
beyond all time
through endless night so brightly starred
his wings aflame his halo charred
remembering beauty through his tears
to see him through in later years
Àŧùl Mar 7
If you see me closely,
I am the one with the halo.
If you hear me keenly,
I say a lot more than just “Hello.”
If you hold me intimately,
You can feel my wings too, and,
I shall make unimaginable love.
My HP Poem #1911
©Atul Kaushal
Sandoval Jan 28
I am not paradise.
I am a broken angel.

A featherless pair of wings
and a burnt out halo

this is what you'll get
with me.

I am not perfect but I am good and I promise I am worth it..
quinn Jan 17
yellow is a colour that goes nicely over another;
the halo surrounding the saint's head on a
stained glass window;
watery yellow acrylic pressed onto
cream canvas with a soft, wide brush;
yellow-tinted glasses pushed too far
up your nose, that make you see the sky hazily;
sunlight that envelops us all, submerges us all,
makes us warm, makes us precious,
covers what is underneath with the gold it is worth.
from my diary, 28th january 2020. that's nearly a year ago! i just love sunlight so much
His whistling rises with the moon;
softened trills and murmurings
grow louder in the dusking sky,

drift across my ceiling, down
into my waiting ears.

A halo of satisfaction rings his face,
sweat drying on his chest
as he leans back upon my balcony.

I gather his things
and place them by the door.
I know this tune is not meant for me.

But I listen to it, still,
and dream of my hands
tangled in his soft feathers.

Who will sing me to sleep
when the nightingale is paired?
Sabene Nov 2020
I saw her fall,
Fall from the moon,
With wings,
Who glowed like a thousand yellow suns,
She didn't fall to the ground,
A drop,
And a mear second later,
She was soaring through the skies
Phil Meup Nov 2020
Sometimes when God closes a door
You're stuck in the room

Conception dies
Those heavy hips and light brown thighs
Those bright red lips and sky blue eyes
Have made him look up to the skies
And then he stops and there he cries
The truth gives way as down he lies
He just gave up his enterprise

The grown man is a boy who tries
To love the girl no compromise
Who loves him first without disguise
And lays with him till sun does rise

But then she left him for a prize
He lays in grass and waves at flys
He sinks still lower from his highs
His girl is gone he couldn’t arise
She left him to his own demise

And he’s alone
So far from home
Not one to care
No one to share
He’s still alone
No place his home

So he lays on the grass and he cries his eyes dry
And he wipes off his tears
And he gives up the years
And he stands in the wind and he walks to the door
Opens it up and he looks in the house
Closes the doors now he’s stuck in the room
Sits on the floor as he lays in the tomb

And his fists start beatin
And his heart starts bleedin
Then the room falls apart as he falls on his head
And his tomb opens up its the dawn of the dead
The energy is breakin in
There is no time for takin in
The moment is medicinal
The opening old windowsill
The life he has is underway
There’s no more time to sit and pray
The beast is risin from the grave
Forgetting of the girl who gave
Forgiving all her precious ways
The old man's reached his end of days
The new man he has just begun
And so stands against the flame
the song of him is still unsung


And there he goes
And there he goes
And he goes
And then he’s gone
And then he’s gone
And he’s gone
And he’s not wrong
And he’s not wrong
And he’s wrong
Maja Oct 2020
I took ten lives
to save a thousand

I lost a battle
to win a war

To hold up the halo
I got my horns,
because I cannot take the rose,
without taking all its thorns.
Does the end justify the means?

can the means justify the end?
Norman Crane Aug 2020
Rip the saintly halo
From above your hallowed brow
To see how it obscured
A deep satanic vow
As through your skull are sprouted
                   Two twisted bony horns:
A rose no more disgracing
A beautiful stem of thorns
Next page