Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Phoenix Sep 26
The time of man
Chooses the future

Is it true
or only a violent episode?

The growth of the unique
Are revolutionizing our ideas

Stripping away the broken
In public by an audience of connoisseurs

The king is dead
What will the robin do then, poor thing?

Suds in your eye
Household words

Two thousand years of war
Enjoyed at home
In a city in love with
The critic's view
I took clips of words from magazines and made a poem from them in my journal. I thought y'all might like it too.
Amanda Kay Burke Feb 2020
One day
Bitter change
Slowing down circumstances
Under the sun the ground is quaking
I should not open the door
We're on the edge of the sea
Summer sensation
Secrets always surface where the light hits the sand
Set your sights without asking
Shooting stars beyond the landscape of your inner life
Day 26: flip through a magazine and cut out words or phrases that inspire you then use them to make a poem
Aa Harvey Jun 2018
Tired of T.V.

Because of T.V., I can no longer think;
I can only dream myself to sleep.
The film that I watch, was given a five star rating
And the star of the film, was on the front of Empire magazine.

But I feel so tired, as my eyelids fall down.
I can no longer concentrate; my short term memory is dead.
What was that thing, the lead actor just said?
Oh well, who cares?  I’m going to bed.

(C)2013 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Adam Robinson Dec 2017
Looking through heavens eyes,
I can see that motion picture highlight.
Over and over,
Like an opal dream inside the TV screen.
It's curves and swirls,
drawing us in,
Maybe in another life I won't fall,
But I'll leave it all up to you,
In passion or fright,
Down passages never took,
Through gardens we daren’t not look,
Into burning books,
5 deaths maybe more,
To make a serenade of hearts beat forever,
Inside plastic cages or outside on our hill,
The flow of hearts is endless.
Self-made or self-inflicted,
They come with no choice,
It's a mirror between mirrors,
a look within a look,
a glance within a kiss,
a fever without hope,
And we're all stuck in them,
Like vanities in glass,
Inside magazine portraits to smash.
Get Out Of My Head
Kimi Sanchez Sep 2017
There are faces that go on the pretty, high-end magazines,
In demand, highly sought
Read once
Then kept away
Then there are faces that go on the canvasses of painters who were once unknown
Coveted, evoking
Imprinted on the mind
Hanged in the Louvre
(for all the world to see)
Now worth a million
Ksjpari Aug 2017
One of the resourceful books unbeatable;
Children’s love, care and comfort biddable
Is none better than Reader’s Digest – capable.
Articles, reports, jokes and anecdotes audible;
All are present in it; all are undoubtable.
Changing the mindset of students capable
Is a new, systematic thing coachable.
Changing the world and its cannibal
Into the virtues and values bindable.
Explaining itself if anytime culpable;
And so is famous for being countable.
Teachers, parents, students ennoble
Reader’s Digest for not being enfeeble.
Leaders or followers who are like a crucible
Change their minds and be bendable.
Behaviour and conduct – key undoubtable
Will keep you atop, elevated, lofty and able.
I am developing a new style of writing poetry where ending words of a line rhyme with one another, at least in last sound. I named it Pari Style. Hope readers will like it. Thanks to those invisible hands and fingers which supported and inspired me to continue my efforts in my new, creative, artistic and innovative “Pari” style. Thanks for your inspiring, kind, soft fingers.
Sally A Bayan Aug 2017
Colors, have ways of making us soar,
or fall.......they make us buoy...
they, too, can divide and isolate...
long ago,  a magazine
was colored and identified for a reason.....
a kind of blue-sy music, upon which i groove,
...was named for the same reason...
.............a magazine..... a music genre,
became instruments...and parts of
dark and golden moments.......recalled
and enjoyed, every now and then...they're
painted.......registered in people's minds....

life is a magazine of stories, of  poetry...
life is a jukebox...filled with soundtracks
life is an album...a collection of smiles
...of colorful images and emotions
reddish brown at first...turning yellow brown,
with tinges of taupe.......mottled through the years,
turning...into fading shades  of sepia...

i refuse my late summer moments on earth be done in Grisaille,
painted, only in tones of grey and dark green... is day, life would be hued with
subdued colors...the blues, silvers and grays,
...........will be cold as winter...

but, until then,
i'd rather be consumed with liveliness
i would adorn my days with peach and lilac
blossoms, hang fuschia pink pennants
on my brighten my disposition,
i'd the guitar once again,
i'll wear my ruffled, dappled-purple skirt,
and yellow converse sneakers when i walk on
the pavement....under blue skies that enhance
greens, and gold...colors that breathe existence
transforming weariness to courage...

wherever...whenever, however possible,
i speak, whisper to  God words of gratitude,
and endless thanksgiving...i  pray for strength.    
and acceptance........prepare myself...when,
.....i, too...would face my own moments,
...............of fading sepia.


Copyright August 6, 2017
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
***Sepia is a dye, deep brown in colour, like the colour of very old photographs.

***Grisaille-- is a technique in which a painting is rendered solely in tones of gray, sepia, or dark green.
***Sepia--a magazine for African-Americans which existed from 1947 to 1983.

***In the late 1940s and early 1950s, R & B (rhythm and blues) music was called race music or sepia music.
Next page