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leeaaun Jul 30
i am grateful of the answer
that i got

"it's okay, if things take time."
the real problem starts, when it stops.
You told me to stop
I did
But I think I was too late
I see the bruises I left in your eyes
Hiding the pain
The pain we couldn’t share together
We’ve tried once before
I should have known better

Under the earths crust
I stayed
It didn’t feel safe to play
I feel things
I no longer say
I hear the voices in my head
I don’t want them to stay
Under the earth’s crust refers to my poem called 9
Danica Jul 8
In the depths of my soul, a question does arise.
When will I cease to weave verses about your guise?
For with every breath, your essence fills my pen,
And my words dance in rhythm, again and again.
I'll keep crafting poems about you, night and day.
I S A A C Jun 16
my roots weave a basket in this shallow ***
wish i got more than i got
wish i got what i sought
my face feels different in the mirror now
shot with an arrow but it i caught
the only thing i could ever stop
wish i got what it sought
I wake up to blue light
I see it when I close my eyes

frustrated and weighted by comparison
I filter my intensity
condense my personality
I show tongue and teeth but no failures or flaws

I see you in your squares, in all your glow
I want to see the dirt under your fingernails
want you to see me cry, my pores up close, counting your eyelashes
I don't want to see twenty pictures res of the same sunset
cascading down a feed that never fulfills
shades changed and tweaked at exposure
I am exposed ever day
but am I known
I want to see the world by your side
not through your phone
hear the sunsets reflect in your tone

I don't want to lose a bet with myself that I don't stare I don't scroll
lose my evening to a screen
my life to anxiety of how people see me
but I want to be seen

I want to know you beyond squares
and validation screams content for moments till I review my content
view myself in the eyes of another
a narcissistic shudder
I doubt and judge myself
wishing not to compare not to care
yet impulse is too lovable
addiction and algorithmic luring
habits savaged a daily instinct
to share
to show my life through squares
I need a break
leeaaun Dec 2022
not just only tell me
to stop hating my body
teach me
how to do it
saying is easy than doing
if you can't help then shut your mouth
calypso Oct 2022
every bit, every tiny bit
i can feel the elephant foot through
my chest, there is
little to no breath, can i stop?
god, if there is anything for me
please don’t make it wait longer
tell my future i won’t be coming
earth is not my place, not anywhere i’ve been
this is too much
half my day i want to scream on the top of my lungs
for help, for solitude, for no one
why am i not heard yet?

maybe i should tell someone
that my room is a mess like my head
and i can’t keep it still, slowly filling my hands
with anything i can find, i wont rest
i cant rest
i can’t let me go
i have to become my future
i promised i won’t go
i promised things i can’t keep
just let me go, my lungs have
and the blood swells my chest
my eyes aren’t smiling
im sorry im not joyful like i used to be
so joyful, it killed me.

its not you, i promise
Ken Pepiton Oct 2022
Confabulation, rise and tell
more than mortal I may ken of wisdom.

The old con, with some trepidation
of fear or agitation
about something that
may happen)

steps away from the vehicle, fabualting
holy truth provocation, possibly
probably, perhaps, even odds,
I was in violation, due to meditation,

white line fever. No, see.
All my roads have double yellow lines.

I guess I don't know why we don't
do somethings in the road…

I know I learned to say I know
when I am not guessing.
Traffic nonexistant. I sit because I never have sat right here, in the middle of your road.
"Work hard" they said,
Push yourself to the limit;
"Go higher" their voices played,
Even when you've already reached the summit...

Have you hiked a multiple tiered waterfall?
The higher you go, the less people there are...
The scenes get more magnificent,
the cascading falls are more pristine...
But you've got to put in the work,
Hike, climb, crawl and you'll get there.

But once you get really high,
Past all the rest of the people,
You'd realise the best tier,
Might be back where you came from.

All that hard climbing,
And at the top...
There might be no view,
No falls,
Yes there is quiet
and the sound of the gentle bubbling river source.
But you've left the absolute best behind.

Just because you can push the limits,
Doesn't mean you have to.
Grasp the moment,
Enjoy the fruits of your labour,
Lest you lose them forever...
Learn when to stop.
Nat Lipstadt Jul 2013
Wrote this eons ago, tonight, once more,
spend some human capital, editing...
Something to think about
as we tuck ourselves in.

the young'uns keep on asking me for tips,
secrets, to this art, magical poetry gig,
as if I had any left unrevealed.  

recalled this old'n,
from a vintage poetry year,
as a suggestion,
a stating-starting place,
for young poets:

do not self-chain,
let the words take you where
they lead, write them up
for the rhyme is waiting,
in the heart chest deep down,
not on the screen.

I read you Goodnight Moon,
Falling asleep beside you.


People stop rhyming...

When first you overcome your fears,
And dare to put on paper your tears,
Give it up, set yourself free from the shackles,
Of thinking a rhyme is a necessity for a
Rooting tooting writing of a
**** good poem

If you feel lost,
Want to share the cost,
Feel not bossed,
By a newbie's need
to believe that if it rhymes
Everyone will like your poem
Just fine

And if you get past this stage,
And advance to the next page,
Do not think that writing down a sentence of
Your mind's first up, innermost thoughts,
Is something that will make you
Less lost, heralded, worthy of a parade,
And be blessed with an A  
In your Teacher's pet grade book

My heart broke.
I feel bad.
I feel sad
Cause my man/woman left me
And I hope
Someone kicks his or her ***

That Ain't No Poem Neither...

And if you can't help but complain repeatedly
How life ***** and you're feeling blue
extremely indiscreetly,
Don't make me try on your scribblings
intimately indiscriminately,
Read a million, even wrote a few myself

You think you can write?

Then employ a word outside your comfort zone,
Go it alone,
Write just four sentences that will make
The hopeful reader stand up and you,
Twice as much, and shout

Hallelujah *******.

Work. Poetry is work. Hard work.
Don't fret. But, think on it.
Let it come easy, then let it rest,.
Then spend days editing every comma,
And when you love it so much,
You are chest busting bursting,
Why have you not pressed Send already?

Have the sweetest dreams.
In the morning, when you but awake,
A poem will be aborning in thy mind,
And dare I say it, you will find a new freedom
In free verse.
(I know you will slip in a rhyme or two,
I can't help but do it too)

G' nite!
Why is that parents plant ideas in your brain as you're falling aslee..............

Just a suggestion....what do I know,
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