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A May 27
I'm falling up
            I'm floating down
                              I've had enough
                                            Drugs take the crown
Manipulated By Addiction
DIPTI DHAKUL Mar 24
Its Time To Manage Ourselves.
(The only definition of management)
Yourselves
Emily Mar 20
I can feel it within
Growing bigger and bigger
Twisting and pulsing

It feeds off negativity
Little quirks that make me crazy
Laziness and lacking responsibility

It grows and grows
Festering inside
Until finally it boils over
Only to restart again
Creator Sun Aug 2019
Her mouth twists into a smile.
A couple of hours later it becomes a frown.
It looks a little lopsided, doesn't it?
One arm is longer than the other; and faster.

But she doesn't care. Nobody does.
She smiles and frowns all day.
For she is but a servant tell,
the true master of the day.

Time.
It reaches out to us.
Tells us what to do and when to do it.

Time.
An age old foe.
For no one can escape it's cages.

Time.
A fabrication of the mind.
It traps us all in it's never ending orbit.

Time.
It's just like a dime.
Our future depends on how we use it.
I've picked this word to write a poetry about today since I'd gone off schedule due to falling sick. So here's a poem about time and its servant. clock. We all have the same amount of hours a day, so why are some people able to keep everything on track while others fall to vices such as procrastination? I've been watching a few Ted Talks and the monkey one stuck out to me. Also the paperclip for a house. Anyways, I'll end the note now and get on to writing another poem. I do hope that you enjoy a new experimental writing style I've used!
Laokos Jun 2019
every summer,
there's
dead baby birds
on the
walkway leading
to the
entrance of
my apartment
building.

last summer there
were three, all
pinked skin, just
a few inches
apart
from each other.

the ants
found them
first, scurried all
over them,
devouring
what
they could before
the cat(s) got
to them
at night.

this summer i've
only seen one,
nice and
plump with
plumage. this
morning
it was gone
too though,
nothing but
the pile
of tree seeds
it was on
remains.

they nest there,
in the dryer
exhaust
vents on
each floor.
-drawn there, I
guess, by the
warmth
and lofty protection
from predators.

thing is, they
clog the exhaust
with their nests
and people
complain about
wet clothes.


...warm

and safe from
predators,


but not safe
from one
phone call
to management.
Tee Morris May 2019
Bring it back
My mind snapped
I can't see my reflection
The poetry I write is made of all my conceptions

I think I need a therapy session
My anger is my only weapon
I need to take a minute to breath
I need my thoughts to all leave

I need my anti depressants
I think I need anger regression
My mind is full of tricks and lies
And the demons lurk in the back of my mind

I might need to train my anger
My whole life is a movie full of cliffhangers
Casting stones in my direction
Making my life their possession

Hollywood movie star
Wanting to smash up fancy cars
My problems not dire
My issues making me a liar

Counsellor trying to give me feedback
I don't really need that
Trying to keep the watchers interested
But I cant be arsed with the drama you invest in
~ Dunno ~
Toxic yeti Mar 2019
As I stand
In the airport
Baggage claim
There comes
A fog
And I hear
A female voice
Am I going crazy
Then I turn around
A flight attendant was talking
About letting go
And finding joy in life
My psychic
Instinct
Say she was one of the 9/11
Victims.
I woke up in my room
And with new goal
To help me self.
The story of how I met my gardian angel.
Maria Monte Jan 2019
When the air creeps under my skin
Frosting the tips of my fingers
And the metal chains coils
Around my beating heart
Until it squeezes out the air from my lungs

I lay down and close my eyes
To listen to the beckoning of mother nature
Let her songs tame my soul
I breathe as she taught me to
Pitter patter
The rain, it falls so beautifully
ACAC Jan 2019
They disappear into their hideout, like a ****** VIP section in a ******* that I dare not walk into.
No notice, no words, just take what they please.
After an hour a single surface for tea, fake smile and a reveal, I see fake truths come with ease.
Can I learn to rise above, not let the bile ooze from my mouth and cover her skin melting away those perfect lips.
Retreat again.
Silence.
At once they all emerge.
That silence of chats with my girls is gone, now silk anxiety ripples and spreads.
They've made decisions, huge decisions that will affect me, us, you and them.
They look at me with contempt, I don't deserve this reprieve.
Like Sunday again, and we need to go to church, nod, smile and take the gospel, worship, worship, worship or leave.
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