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MuseumofMax Jan 29
I welcome the new year under a foggy sky

Warm breaths glowing in the cold air

Bright smiles never lie

I hope I can teach myself some self-care

I hope I can try

I welcome the new year under a foggy sky

in the middle of Oklahoma
Wrote this on New Years
Nyx Jan 21
I met you on that bridge
Walking through the snow.
Face to face with you,
I used my palms to cover your ears
Mouthed "I no longer need you".

I saw your gaze harden
And felt you push me away,
Then I went on my way
Opposite from where I came from.

I doubt that you're still there
Standing underneath the streetlight
Silhouette all aglow
But I am still so sure
That I'll keep looking behind me
Hoping to see your ghost.
Falling Awake Jan 17
The gold, velvet curtains
allow the sun to slip through,
contrasting the flat, make-shift fabric
that used to shield these rays.

Light dances on the fresh paint,
that clings to the sad, bare sheetrock
you shamelessly had on display.

With brushstrokes askew,
and a lively orange hue,
we tried to mask the dents–
remnant of her past rage.

We covered those scars
with our framed memories
and sentimental assets,
now side by side and entwined,
weaving our worlds into one.

This newfound atmosphere
clears the congestion in my chest,
and rejuvenates our spirits,
injecting a freshness
we thirstily absorb.

We're granted a reset,
for we’ve painted vibrance
onto a clean slate.
Jeremy Betts Jan 16
Attempting new
Creative endeavors
Reluctant at first,
Old habits fear change
Steadily pushing to prove
To myself
I
Can grow

©2025
~ Acrostic ~
A poetic written composition where the first letter of each line spells out a word, phrase, or message.
~
The word Acrostic comes from the Greek word akrostichís, which is a combination of acro- (end or extremity) and stich (a line of poetry)
~
Maichy2004 Jan 13
White so pure,
it's cleanliness sure.

Now soaked with dread
and flecked with red.

Heat of me melts into puddle,
my mind will fade and words will muddle.

Steel in chest and searing pain,
my face feels droplets of the winter's rain.

Fur of fire-blackened and bloodied,
as I lay with vision muddied.

No one will come though they look in flocks,
for I am just a simple fox.
This poem is about a fox that died outside in the snow near my house made me sad so I wrote about it.

I like this poem but obviously, it could be better, I would love to hear what anyone thinks about it.
Demonatachick Jan 13
It is not unusual for stars
to love, cosmic attraction
pulling one to another.

In the beginning when the
earth exploded into being
the sun and moon were
born to govern it.

As natural opposites they
avoided one another
sparing no thought whilst
following their own
cosmic paths, solivagant.

Occasionally the moon would
watch the earth and saw how the sun
nourished and brought
joy to its people.

And in turn the sun noted
the moons protective
shade and pitch night
wherein many lovers
stole forbidden kisses.

As the stars courted they
saw each other wholly
for the sun while
nourishing can also be
scorching and deadly, and the moon though many took comfort in its
glow others took it as an
advantage for carrying
out cruel misgivings.

Finally they decided to
meet, a day was chosen
and for a moment they
were as one.

This did not last.

The people below
panicked at this sight
fearing for their lives their
fervent prayers reached
the heavens and so once
more they parted and took
their immortal stations, everlonging.
Happy new year everyone!
Immortality Jan 12
How can I
love someone new,
when you kiss
my soul
so true?
For the blurred-faced man, who comes in my dream-

Are you real, or am I lost in the feel?
Gabriel Yale Jan 11
Ferns rooted in the sky,
their roots searching for a life
in the lake of bliss.
I immerse myself,
slowly, like a leaf.
I wade, I wade—
water and sand
consume me.
There lies a new planet,
entirely green, with the enchanting spells of sun,
surrounded by our happiness.
Our hands joined in love.
The poem centers on transformation, unity, and the search for a deeper connection with life and love. It intertwines nature's imagery with a sense of serenity and transcendence, evoking a feeling of discovery and harmony.
Àŧùl Jan 11
The night has ended,
And the dusk is stale.
A different dawn descended,
And the sun is shining pale.

There are some memories here,
Some more are hidden there.
I'm still lonely,
But I'd be lonelier
If not for my parents.

Now I work on my dream rate,
None was more appropriate.
My HP Poem #2039
©Atul Kaushal
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