Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
aniket nikhade Dec 2015
Failure is not only a concern, but also a part of life
Ignore it,
deny the same,
defy it, however, facts never change.

Like the odds when they come along the way,
which need to be tackled,
they prove to be of use, of great benefit in enriching prior experience,
similarly,
in the same way,
failure is the first step towards success.

Never get disappointed, don’t give up,
since prevention has always remained better than cure
One wrong step never meant it's end of the world
One wrong step never meant to be a full stop
One wrong step, however, definitely means not to repeat the same mistake again.

Definitely failure is not only a concern, but also a part of life,
best when agreed upon and accepted,
so as to make sure that the same thing never happens again, all over again.
Cat Fiske Dec 2015
my throat was rotted and dry,
as I urged for you to hear my cries,

as if make you hear me again,
as if to try and show you my smile again,

to smile and show you,
how everything will be alright,

wouldn't it be nice,
like the puzzle becoming complete finally.

but my voice cant speak these words,
and my lips and throat aren't moist enough,

to motion this smile we both truly need,
to speak these words to stop the cries,

as if to tell you its all going to be alright,
so we will part ways, drift, and fly away this night,
just a poem.
Summer Michelle Nov 2015
Busy tones fill the ears
Just to hear answering machines
Messages left unanswered
Until the time is wrong
Left wondering why they're gone
Young one, turn to a pen

Tops off to them all
Pants fall just the same
Maybe this is what they meant
When they said love is an action
We don't know why
But the hole isn't filling

How many times can this be written
How much is there to say
I wear this cross on my sleeve
To remind me
That I'm not alone and I
Can stay strong

Their screaming voices saved this one
Giving an outlet for the pain
But it became too easy to live there
Haunting themselves with the sounds
Of unpleasant settling
And unwanted misery

How many times can this be written
How much is there to say
I wear this cross on my sleeve
To remind me
That I'm not alone and I
Can stay strong

I need a new muse
The past is daunting
Haunting every part of me
Killing any chance
Of a future
I may blow my fuse
Michael Ryan Nov 2015
Hands on your shoulders
eyes closed and attempting
to follow the flow of your body
with each step I faithfully
plunge my feet
into where yours must
have been only a moment ago.

I gently tinge each finger of mine
so subtly that I wonder if you even noticed--
it's a habit of mine
where I need to stretch my hands
to find some focus.
It didn't really help
since I have my eyes closed,
although I do feel less
lost in this empty space.

Did you know that your body hums
I could feel it radiating in the cracks
between each finger--
more likely it was my anxiousness
of floating through the galaxy
with you as my only guide.
Honestly I began to
wonder where we are going.

Stopping my silence
I lean closely to what
I am assuming is your ear
and whisper, "you didn't tell me
we'd be walking so far"
your reply was sarcastic as usual,
"Oh, sorry didn't know
you would make us walk so slow"
with the usual eye-rolling chuckle.

Suddenly you stop
and because of how flustered
your response made me
I misstep and glide into your back
and before I can even see from behind you
an earthquake of sound explodes
"surprise!!!"...."happy birthday!!!!!"
I just imagined how it would be for someone to be led around for an unknown reason to their surprise party.  Yes random.
JDK Oct 2015
I don't want to be just another notification.
Just another bland "like" on your poem,
followed up by yet  another generic comment.

I want to stand out in my attempt to show you how much the words you wrote meant to me.
I want you to understand how close you've come to understanding something deeper -
Something inside of me.

But maybe that's just the thing:
We're all trying so desperately to be understood.
A handful of anonymous clicks hardly does us any good.

Just another means to a fix -
Another indulgence of an insatiable addict.

I'd quit if I could.
This is the part where I write a clever note.
s Oct 2015
my favorite part is the dew while yours is the sunrise
days left for us, only few, isnt forever but still nice

my favorite part is the night while yours is the sun
if loving you isnt right, i dont care bcs its still amazing

my favorite part is the leaf while yours is the flower
i never want to leave you but it so hart to get us together

my favorite part is when winter, while yours is when summer
would you warm my heart even it already frozen?

my favorite part is the sea while yours is the mountain
ill never set you free but im afraid you wont come back again

my favorite part is blue sky while yours is the white cloud
when you say goodbye my hearts screaming loud

my favorite part is the moon while yours is the dark sky
please come back soon before i say goodbye

my favorite part is the dust while yours is the solid ground
i gave you all my trust but you just left me a wound
tbh this is not my poetry, it's someone else's that i used to know. he's pretty good at writing poetry. I love his poetry, I hope you guys do.
Sorrow Cain Sep 2015
[ ]
I'm unstuck in time,
Wondering what part I will,
Have to act out next.
HAIKUS!!!!
Slam Sep 2015
The body of time is screaming in my mind
It tells a story of a blueberry in a cherrypie
Cold, chewy and hard to bury
Whispers of sad blow that makes us slow
Happy a moment and dependent
Cool as night with heat of might
Only a maybe inside I'm a baby
Crawling and strolling my mourning
Back ache in spaces of empty cases

Hopeless opus
In a deep ocean of motion
Can feel the waves of my disgrace
The pain are in my ways and i cant erase
I just wish to hope a morning wake
With no more current that says you aren't
I'm so down and all
And I think I'm going to fall
She
i watched her lips part and smile form
i heard her laugh start and heart warm
her heart was sore and her jeans were ripped
her mouth sipped coffee from the mug she gripped

the pages from her book were bent,
they were stained where the coffee dripped
the pages from her book smelled like home
they reminded her of him

i watched her lips part as her feeble voice shook
tears filled her sorry eyes as she put away her book

she told me that she saw her life
as a page in a book she didn't intend to write


© Melissa Carlson 2015
Rachael hays Aug 2015
chemical romance without any bars,
tub full of hot water,
water glass filled with wine
would I love you If I had you all the time?

I think I’ll wait

LA rituals come easy
once we discovered our time zone
a rolley between my fingers
a whisker on my tongue

your ram
has my eagle flying
you set me ablaze
and the Phoenix rises from our ashes

East - west - East - west

~Rachael Hays, 15A15
Next page