Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Tony Luxton Sep 2015
We only met upon the page,
different experiences, different lives,
fleeting sightings of him on the screen,
saddened when he finally died.

His 'squat pen' still digs into my mind,
mining for a common ore,
sharing feelings raw and ripe
of kindness, cruelty, death and life.
Jude Jaden Aug 2015
I believe, as fast asleep,
my soul, flews away,
enjoying sight-seeing,
at random spot,
which is,
far,
step ahead from me.
Its just one of my fictional brain computing, sharing my thought.
Yet "Deja Vu" far more away to explains.
Perri Aug 2015
They say
you can't love another
until you love yourself

But what if
you love yourself to the point
where you are dying to share the excess
with another
and the sorrow and ache you feel
is just the pain
of too much love
trying to escape
with no where to go
CJ M Aug 2015
Isn’t love what we think it is? You have me falling in love like a trap-door, and I’m all yours once I re-enter. You are my space, everytime I’m around you I get blank that way you may fill me with your tales, with the memories of you and I, us and we. Plural life as if we were words, but in a way we are. I can go down a list of adjectives that describe you, yet only one word describes us.
Infatuated.
Our souls are two blades curved in on themselves, yet when they are placed together form the sacred symbol of what we find as love. Irony in it’s purest form.
You refuse to cease to amaze me, so grant me this one favor, when you hear the voices of your past, think of my voice, my walk, my face, my hands, my love. I will forever miss what we will have when the days are done.
You place me in a garden of echoes. I hear them wherever I go, so is it safe to tell you that you are my garden? Is it safe that you know that your voice is like a lullaby to me? Because it’s true. Without the mellifluous voice of intimatic emotions biting on my ear, I can’t function correctly.
So I always miss what I have, what I may lose one day, but I always remember that an echo isn’t an echo until it is found once more by the ears of the one that had sent it’s vibes askew. So I’ll be waiting, my love, until I find your voice becoming my echo.
this was another flashback from my poetic journal, I was looking through it and found this one
Cíara McNamara Jul 2015
He thinks of me when its time,
A quick post-it note
To inform me of his position.

This loving ritual,
A running joke
A daily reminder of our growing closeness
And sometimes it’s just because he’s gross.
For my best friend x
Gaurav Luthra Jul 2015
Pain is not in waking up at sunrise,
Pain is in those exhausted eyes working till sunrise.

Pain is not in the cold water of shower,
Pain is in the dried body begging for water.

Pain is not in eating uncooked breakfast,
Pain is in the tears of children who have no breakfast.

Pain is not in throwing your leftovers,
Pain is in the mouth eating your leftovers.

Pain is not in walking to school,
Pain is not having means to afford school.

Pain is not in having no friends,
Pain is in the rejection with an attempt to make friends.

Pain in not in writing these lines,
Pain is in the heart of those living these lines.
Be happy with what you have and work towards sharing with those who don’t have. We complain every single moment of our life without considering the fact that there are millions begging to experience our life. This is for the man that I once talked to sitting under a tree who told me “You are worried about gaining admission to school, feel my pain of knowing that my kids cannot even look towards a school let alone think about admission”. From that moment, I decided to not complain but rather fix the problems in my life and make myself capable to help those in need.
RW Dennen May 2015
Many paths do we take
Many roads in our wake
Many bridges with their tolls

Onward travelers
bless us all
Heroes born to challenge's call

Obstacles vanish within our path
toil not with guiding staff

Wandering travelers throughout our life
we share our stories of good and strife
on roads of signs which way to take
to travel best for all's at stake

Lonely travelers is you and me
we merge at times
on roads
we share
and talk our journeys
of rough and smooth
and find our wisdom
in enlightened mood
Leaetta May Jul 2015
I needed something profound
and you showed me a sunken ship
the depths of which I had never known
but that is so like you
shining other people's lights
for me to see the way
checking out poets I follow, led me to more light than I expected
Hannah Jul 2015
If family is blood
then can't family also be
a glass of coke,
a bowl of noodles,
an ice cream on a hot day?

Isn't family also
shoulders to cry on,
late night movies,
laughing till tears appear?
if we call people family because we 'share blood' then cant we also call the best friends family because we share so many other things?
Steele Jun 2015
There are 10 kinds of people in this world,
and binary accounts for them all.

They're happy and sad.
They're ones and zeros.
Villains and heroes.
Villains, yet not all bad.
Despite everything life decides to hurl;
Despite every brick ball of fear
Through the stained glass windows of their minds,
Through it all, they survive.
They're angry and glad.
They're happy and sad.

And in their duality, they're still smiling there
at your sharp hasty words
at your venomous hurt
that you wish so desperately they, too, shared.
Love thy enemy.

Special thanks to Kelley A Vinal for the binary inspiration. You can read her poetry here: http://hellopoetry.com/kelley-a-vinal/

It's pretty solid.

Edit: Holy Daily, Batman! Wow, I'm so honored. Glad you all like it so much! :D
Next page