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Simon Bridges May 30
When submersed  
In each other’s warmth
We were too hot to handle
Cold showers
                 Became therapy
Testing our endurance
                    Cooling beads
That ran down our spines

We were alive
Wrapped in towelling
Infused with lavender
That dried us
           From the outside in

Now the beads
                            Of sweat
That run down my spine
Are cold
Never dried
Until I think I’m dry
Then
I realise
       From the inside out
No matter how the sun
Warms my back
                    The horizon
Remains wearing a veil
Savva Emanon May 25
When the weight of the world wraps tight round your chest,
And the days blur with ache, with no time to rest.
When the mind is a maze, and the breath feels thin,
And life drums too loud beneath trembling skin.

Pause...

Let the frantic pulse soften, the whirlwind grow still,
There’s no prize for the climb when it shatters your will.
This body, this heart, this soul made of grace,
Was not born to outrun some invisible race.

The throb in your temples, the twist in your gut,
The nights spent awake, mind slammed quickly shut.
These are whispers, not weakness, a plea from within,
“Be gentle, be kind. Let soft love begin.”

The world will not crumble if you step aside,
To breathe, to be quiet, to let stillness abide.
You are not lazy for tending your flame,
You are sacred and strong, not a cog in a game.

So cradle your fears like a child in your arms,
Speak softly to pain, disarm its alarms.
Rest is a right, not something to earn,
It’s the hearth of your healing, the place you return.

For stress may steal minutes, and wear on the soul,
But kindness and care can make broken things whole.
The bravest of hearts are the ones that confess,
“I need to slow down. I’m weary. I’ll rest.”

So lie in the stillness, let worries be few,
The most beautiful promise begins now with you.
Copyright 2025 Savva Emanon ©
The Poets Loft is my new YouTube Channel.
https://www.youtube.com/@PoetsLoft
alex May 18
The countdown begins
Three whole weeks,
then one week,
now four days,
it’s tomorrow-
in three hours.

Until the dreaded hour comes and goes.
But it doesn’t end there.
It’s only the start
of my two weeks of hell.

My hands sweat and shake
as I frantically flip through pages,
what have I been revising for?
weeks of effort-
but the words blur into one
and… time.
Pens down.
I’ve messed it up.
Again.

Then comes results day,
Suddenly, sitting the exams seemed like heaven
compared to this day of hell
because I already know-
before I even open that little sheet-
my work probably hasn’t paid off

And…
I’ve messed it up.
Again.

Now I sit in front of my parents
and they ask
if I even tried,
but I did try
I tried for four weeks.
Eight hours a day.
Up to the very last minute.
I tried.

But they’ll never know,
because all they see is
that little white sheet
with the little black numbers.

all my hard work-
reduced to nothing
they can’t see past the percentages
to see me,
crumbling
before their eyes.

So I stand and sigh,
which nobody sees or hears,
pull out my textbooks of torture,
and let the current of words
and equations
and lists
pull me under…
**** you thieving gulls,
bold and noisy bandits of the air
you will not still my thoughts,
I need to sit on a shiny plastic chair
scrape the legs across a bumpy concrete floor,
drink a cup of steaming words,
lose then find myself within the oceans roar,
come foaming water take me
wash my head
fold me and remake me
send me tumbling to the beach
to roll and scrape along the sand
throw my worries out of reach
snack on them for just a little while
swallowed whole by heaving marram grass
trapped within your ever shifting smile
Josh Crawley Apr 11
Unsettling feelings settle in,
Distraction without cause.
A million plans of what to do.
Overwhelmed, I pause.

Minutes become hours,
And fast turn into days.
Days drift into many years,
Evidenced by the greys.

Trapped inside this vivid dream,
Broken, Sad, Forlorn.
Finding peace with moonlight's kiss,
Hating hopeless dawn.

'It all gets better in the end',
Simply, I don't buy it.
Stifled deep within my heart,
This haunting disquiet.
First draft of my first recent poem (Lost all my old stuff thanks to HDD's dying + the lack of a cloud back then... The place I posted on them doesn't even have records on google anymore!)

I hammered this out quickly and used it to sign up, so it only got a single edit. Maybe I'll revisit this in the future, but I feel like it's in a good spot now.
From the depth of my cage
I saw you pretending to be
Not my keeper
Releasing me, only to chase me
Into my own nightmare
Of charred souls
Standing helpless
As I watched the ash blow away
A real nightmare I had that a while ago that I cannot forget
Bruce Taylor Apr 7
so much bad news
to drown in
my wife tells me
to put down
my phone and
play quiet music
but I wonder
if that’s fiddling
while Rome burns,
the ship’s orchestra
playing as the
Titanic sinks or
just good advice
from the one who
knows me best
...cue the music
Kat M Mar 25
Aching to sink further into the dirt
Into the grave, you built while pacing back and forth
Manifesting the prophecies you work so hard to avoid
Wrapped up in soiled stories of what could be,

You linger on the branches of a willow’s weep
Swinging from each somber lullaby into feathers that soar
Into the minds covered in clouds resting on the top of the world
Clarity is misguided when there’s more fun to be had amid the fog

Picking at the scab you know will bleed
You crave to reopen the wounds you know not to be ready
Eager for a dance against Time,
He laughs at your foolish attempts to hurry
Feedback Welcome!
Northern Poet Mar 20
Under-paid, fed up
Over-worked, had enough
Lotto on, good luck
A northern haiku
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