Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
I know, I know, I am nobody
I am not worth remembering
I am wasting your time, I'm sorry

But I just want to try to be
Someone worth something
Like some sort of celebrity

I am no master like Keats
Or Basquiat or Mccartney
Or a philosopher of Greece

I am just a half Man half
Wolf parasite From the city
Who others pick and laugh

At. But I hope that in my poetry
I may become more than human
Something lovely like a rosary

Or magnificent like strawberries
With the redness of life blood
With the life force of eddies

I just want to outlive my flesh
Be remembered by some descendant
Live my life afresh

I want my poems to flood
The plains of their soul
And travel through their blood

Or be a lighthouse in the wild sea
That life offers them and be
A guide to the safe shore of creativity

Or be the lullaby as they sleep
Through the night of uncertainty
And give them dreams deep.

But as things stand, all things falls apart
And I can't even find comfort
In the traces of my art

So I take what's left of myself
Walk through the woods of my life
And find rest in the universe's shelf
I'm writing a poem for you
So that I could exist again
For a short time anew

So that I could share my heart
Fingers blossoming red
With the blood of my art

Read it on the mountainside
Or by the sea, or in the desert
As if I have not died

And sing it to the people
So that I could be heard
In their souls and let it ripple

Or keep it to yourself
It doesn't matter. Put it
In the notebook on your shelf

Take it out from time to time
To amuse yourself for old time's sake
With my simple rhyme.

All I want do is to touch
You from beyond this existence
Because I love you so much

This is the only way I know
Words I wrote on a screen
I have no other skills to show
It will require bit of humanity to:
Lose yourself in serving others,
Sooth their pain,
Plant smiles on their faces,
Brighten their day,
Lift their spirit,
And strive to restore them for a better future.

Your humanity, my friend
Is your eternal legacy, which is more precious Than your wealth, education,
And a lifetime worth of accomplishments!

Hussein Dekmak
Edited
Mane Omsy Mar 28
I confiscated many things
That don't belong with me
I tried to return my sins
Even now, they haunt me

I seeked the better life
People posted on their stories
All illusions makes memories
For always what I thrive

Legacies where heroes die
And pass on through centuries
I shot one to the moon and sigh
One day, as I die, leave memories
Past Mar 15
The waves behind us
will always erase our footprints.
Isaac afunad Jan 30
Woke up to cheer
but l had taken aback
devastated for the news
for he bit the dust
but said heroes come and go
but legends are forever
and will always be remembered
and his legacy left to inspire
the flower of age.
My mother gave me a dowry
a brimming chest of treasures
a heart of rare and precious gems
she collected long ago

She filled it with her words, her thoughts
and things she knew I'd need
she piled high with hopes and dreams
priceless trinkets all for me
and topped it off with years of love
and a life of merry traditions

Then knowing that I'd need a map
by which to guide my life
she gave to me a legacy
my Bible, pure and right
and taught to me the art of prayer
a rare and genuine gift she shared

I am blessed to be a mother now
with a daughter of my own
and I can't wait to share with her
the love that I have known
Written for my mother in November 2004
Lucia Urreta Feb 5
How do you bury a flower?
Sun-kissed petals giving light,
Imbued with innocence and kindness.
Do you preserve her in thought,
In her poems and speeches?
Or do you tear her petals,
Destroy legacies,
Of peace,
And turn to war.
Anemone Feb 1
I am not a figment of your imagination
I am just a dream to you
One you can cast aside
One you can leave behind
One you can ignore
One you can ignore

I am just a casualty
In this hollow game
That you’ve created for me
There are no holes for trying hard to fit through
In this child’s matching game of patterns, shapes and colors too
I know everything
I see all
But you still don’t believe in me
As long as you have me at your beck and call
Who am I to be
Where are the people like me
Trying, trying to be
The savior
Not the demon
You all thought and planned for me to be

That’s what I’m trying to be
Kara Shirlene Jan 22
Though you are both gone
From this Earth;
There's a gift you gave me
At my birth.

It fills a place
In my heart.
I felt it there
From the start.

You passed to me
Your wisdom, kindness, honesty.
And the passion
For writing poetry.
I cannot tell you
Just what that means.

The flutter of a Butterfly
Will always be
A beautiful sight
And the symbol of your memory
In my soul and in my mind.

In my heart
I will always feel you there,
Because a Grandmother's Love
Is the everlasting gift you shared.

Thank you for your examples & legacy.
Thank you for inspiring me.
Thank you both for sharing your life
Through written words and poetry.
And thank you both for your
Grandmother's Love you left with me.

🦋💜🦋
©KSS 1/22/2021
{written in memory of my grandmothers: The two beautiful women who inspired me to begin writing poetry at a very young age. You are in my heart, always.}
Next page