Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jeremy Betts Dec 2023
Let's look at religion
A barley arguable opinion
An iffy position to hold on a poorly written legend
Playing pretend, a doctrine based in fiction

It's a belief
It can be helpful with grief
It can offer something resembling relief
But there's no being above or beneath

It's only a story
Meant for guiding, not setting morality
A children's book with adult vocabulary
Not to be taken seriously once you've learn about the tooth fairy

This is ridiculous
This fictitious alpha and omega business
An impossible for anyone to follow syllabus
Why haven't we moved on from the preposterous?

If it helps...fine
Use it, let it consume all YOUR time
I'm tired of having to remind YOUR kind
That's YOUR truth, NOT mine

lucy-goosey Aug 2023
same old black t shirt,
first day of school ID.

buzzed hair starting to grow in,
glimmering from lamination.

slinking slouching sliding,
stumbling betwixt the desks.

the man, the myth, the legend,
just nobody knows he exists
A cryptic poem for a cryptic man.
Carlo C Gomez Jun 2023
Beckoning, unhindered

Bending, unbroken

Where the darkness starts
Here is the unseen

Grained out, eyelids closed
In conversations with traffic signs

The spine is quiet in the center
You can't be told it, you must behold it
Maja Oct 2022
We are descendants of legends,
making our own ones.
I S A A C Aug 2022
tender love and care
unfold, allow myself to share
all of these precious gems
before their existence is solely tied to mine
if an isolated man dies
who will tell the story of his tries
of his cries, of his lowest lows and highest highs
the way he spoke, his piercing eyes
tender love and care
i give with each breath i take
Chris Saitta Mar 2022
So Herodotus muttered marble dust into his beard,
And foretold the white clay of the mule road,
And the whiskers of Greece grew long with legend.
The Histories (c. 430 BC) of Herodotus are widely regarded as the cornerstone of historical works in Western Culture.  Though it primarily documented the Greco-Persian Wars, its reliability has often been questioned, giving rise to the belief by some that it is a work of fable and legend rather than chronological accuracy.
Carlo C Gomez Jan 2022
Once at the guillotine

Now an out-of-focus angel

"Crime is shame, not the scaffold!"

She's got a '45 strapped

To each of her thighs

Speaks French with a Martian accent

Wishes she was a siren

When bathed in happy thoughts

Wishes she was the ladybird

When her wings

Confuse amuse transfuse

Into dreams of blood

Lukewarm prisoner

Detained for seven years

Now lies beside her

Asking for a helping hand

She loosens her corset

But tightens her grip
Ken Pepiton Sep 2021
Somebody say I don't care
If I do or if I don't
as well,
just as well

tell you what I think
If I do or if I don't
If I do or if I don't

If I do or if I don't
If I do or if I don't
as well,
just as well, yell at the neighbor
you wanna play?

That was then, the reality tv was made up
accident, or purpose,
I can't say, if I know of if I don't
how long the book of life leaves idle words
un re
used as deemed worth one whole BAT.

Time on site, you reading my mind,
in my distant future using the tools of 2021.
Sing when sung to said the shy man
Leone Lamp May 2021
Skipping class, ****** off his ***,
Never showed and never passed
Teacher was teachin' it
But Dylan never needed it,
Writ to his own beat
And now he's free wheelin' it
On down the road
A heavy moss laden load
Sixty-one routes
And that stone keeps a-rollin',
The times keep a-changin'
The river keeps flowin'
Rainy day women
And legalized growin'
Bob cantcha spare,
A nickle or rhyme?
A solid gold medal,
Nobel poet sublime?
Sing us a song
Jingle jangle along
The Luckiest Wilbury
In the Wilbury throng
Singin' so right
It must be wrong
Keep doin' your thang
You'll never get gonged
My wife's grandpa had a writing class at MSU (Minnesota State University) with Bob Dylan, but Dylan never showed. He turns 80 on Monday (05/24) and I threw this together in his honour.
Pining to be loved
I sought asylum within these pages
Every line, every word, every rhyme
Was a reflection of the sorrow that ruminated
Beyond the looking glass.
Yes, I fathomed I was alone without a
Guiding star, without a lodestar to lead the way, O, but now I am liberated
By The Sovereign of Songbirds
Who solaces me by his mellifluous musicality.
(Yes, I am free)

Soaring beneath the stratosphere, thermosphere, mesosphere, and exosphere
I saw all the suffering underneath the sun
And remembered what it was like to slumber.
Rest is something I took for granted
Feeling it was only forged to flee lament; oh, but that is only half the freedom
Of truth: Yes, we are reborn when we slumber.
So lull me and lead the way; furthermore, I am liberated.
The Sovereign of Songbirds enspirits me
By the clairron lullaby, by His voice.
(O, I am free)

Dreaming, I lost sight of all that made me human;
Limitations forgotten, I drifted heavensward. I forsook
All I held beloved.
Why must phantasy mean sacrifice? Must the fantast
Be sundered in order to claim transcendence, ascendence?
Yes, I was burned by The Incendiary Sun but
My heart has survived. It leads the way to liberty.
I am risen by The Sovereign of Songbirds who resurrects me.
I am summoned from the ashes like a Phoenix Rising.
(O, I am free)

(Se’ lah)
Excelsior Forevermore,

Sanders Maurice Foulke III

Next page