Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Meandering Mind Sep 2018
the rivers of my memories
and those of my dreams
rivers real
and rivers imagined

meander through beautiful landscapes
like they're slowly chasing something
or someone

like they keep forgetting what they're after
but remember often enough
to keep heading in the same general direction


such is the life of a river
and such is the life of all
headed for some destination

it may meander
it may slow and quicken
and change direction and course
and split and rejoin
and grow and shrink

but all the while
it's headed for its end
the destination

which to break it down
linguistically
is the "destined" place


and thus
the rivers
like our lives
are ruled by fate
Wishie Aug 2018
So long ago, the soldiers fell,
A raging war we cannot tell.
In our hearts, they each will dwell,
The poppies will tell us that all is well.

Fighting, hurting, to reach this day,
For what is now, we thank and pray.
For laughing children, happy and gay,
In memories from us, they will always lay.

So for this, we wear a single red flower,
That show they died for what's rightfully ours.
How they lost their numbers, hour by hour,
Their loyalty was, indeed, a great power.

So long ago, the soldiers fell,
A raging war we cannot tell.
In our hearts, they each will dwell,
The poppies will tell us that all is well.
~I won 1st place in a poetry contest with this, and I thought I'd share with you~
I've found like most things I've
come to know, I'm just
A shadow of my
former
self.
As always don't forget to tell me what you think in the comments below. In the end, It will all fit together
Sometimes, I feel so little.
I wonder, am I human?
Or just a machine?
This poem is about feeling emotions that I know I should, but don't. I guess in the end, It will all fit together. As always, Don't forget to tell me what you think in the comments below.
Like problems, When hammering nails,
You either hit the nail on the head,
Or your thumb.
This poem is to show how my last two poems, I "hit my thumb" and they didn't do as good as I was hoping. As always, don't forget to tell me what you think in the comments below.
There's always at least two characters in every story; the protagonist, and the antagonist.

Which am I?
There's always two sides to every story as there is two most things. What am I?
Colm Jun 2018
Did you know
That wishes reside
Behind the eyes

Just to the one side
Ever so slight

Like a magic trick within the mind
We wish
And sometimes forget

Or remember such wishes
In due time
https://youtu.be/z5Bc3qrNKaE
Bryce Jun 2018
Hello Chicago
Flat carpet-town of corn meal
steel spears at the northern junction
of Cahokia and some unknown dream

No lillies grow here sir,
no tulip fields
though there are many Dutch
a little up north
Wisconsin, dontcha' know?

Family blood rains through the Chicago river
named of the blood of a slain tribal wonder
wanders
with the roaming buffalo

I sat at the top of Sears
(Willis)
Tower and peered into the foggy distance
and made out the shores of Michigan
through Indiana
the leftover rains of a continental freeze
churned the earth to butter and carved the arteries
and bowels
of today's earthly body

And when we drove in from O'Hare
in the late hours on incessant stoplight highways
counting down the streets
thinking maybe they'll go all the way to
Mississippi
just a long row of
Concrete

I saw the brick tower
of a decrepit Frito-lay plant
where they cooked their corn and potato
into succulent
can't eat just one
little snacks

for the whole of america
to enjoy in backyard barbecues
and convenience stores
and grocery outlets
All across the planet

Now with the trucks they come and go
up to and whizzing past Chicago
on to greener states with greater relief
with hills and lakes and winding streams

Different sections of the sculpture
Cities eroding into the pleasant coasts
quaking and breaking into tiny stones
a monumental David
cracked in the gallery
bird **** corroding the silicates
unpolished and immortal
words

Chicago!
oh you mighty city you
built from sod and sweat and dew
of new morning
I see your towers
you dreamer, you
But your towers are in Dubai,
and Shanghai
now

The world moved on
and forgot everything about
that magnificent mile
burned to make you earn
new toys and fancy things
from far beyond your winding river streams

But you didn't die
amazing, how much they tried
to rust you out
to bleed you dry

no,
Chicago,
you keep your ***** rivers flowing
all the way to the Mississippi
flanked by modern Roman concrete
all the way to the great green sea
out into the puddle that surronds
the Amerigo

Chicago
don't you give up that river dream
Sara Kellie Apr 2018
Be good, be bad.
Have things, have none.
Give love, taste love.
Feel power, share the wealth.
Keep every penny all to yourself.
Learn the game, change your name.
Watch the sky and never cry.

But remember this, when you are dead.
All these words, I never said.
You were never here, I was never there.
Ask anyone, see if they care.

. . . and now you're dust and time has past.
Did you come first or were you last?

Poetry by Kaydee.
You arrived with nothing and
you'll go with nothing.
All except those who'll remain with you, enriching your ongoing soul because they are what make you beautiful.
Next page