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Trevon Haywood Dec 2015
Why am I so sad?
Because I'm young and the restless.
I miss some new good friends.
Including me, myself and I.
The reason why is that I'm still young and the restless.
And I'm still happy and proud, excited and lovely.
I wanna fall in love with women.
Why am I lonely?
Because I'm still young and the restless.
I love you. I don't wanna lose you.

Anonymous. 12/19/2015.
©2015 by Trevon S. Haywood.
Dedicated to my friend Leon who passed away.
Christ does not save us because he is desperate or lonely.
For he does not need the human race for praise or anything.
But because he loves us each with an unconditional Love.
For he has thousand of Angels that Praise him always in heaven.
If he wanted an faithful group , he could raise the Rocks.
To worship him, to Praise him as well, he never did need us.
So realize before this before you pass onto the other side.
It is not Christ that needs us, but it is us that needs Christ.
For even though we are an evil lot, he still wants to be our God.
Brent Kincaid Nov 2015
The hippie days were rather hard
For a young guy just starting out.
Off- brand jeans and crew-cut hair
Didn’t carry all that much clout.
I was into show tunes and Elvis,
The Beatles were great and new.
I lucked right into the Troubadour
And fell in love with Elton too.

One of my ladies loved Airplane
The other loved the Monkees
The problem was that only one
Was ever approved by junkies.
But I was so squeaky clean
That I was only into cheap coffee.
I swear I could get high as a kite
On Russel Stover’s fine toffee.

But something changed for me
The day I first heard David Bowie.
It sounds kind of childish now
But he was special and so glowy.
He pointed out some dichotomies
Between what was said and done.
At that time we needed something
And Bowie was obviously the one.

I didn’t stick there with his genie
But his genius opened some doors
And affected my art and my poetry
Way back then and forever more.
So then it was Prince, The Doobies,
Aretha Franklin and Annie DiFranco.
And, of course, the one-hit wonders
About eighteen hundred or so.

It wasn’t always about music
This social code of mine.
But music underscored it all
Made even politics toe the line.
We made changes in civil rights
And even affected an evil war.
There is no reason to doubt it.
Music will continue to change more.
I always try to write longer pieces
But i always end them on a short note.
Dang it, i did it again.
What was my theme again?
Another fun poem i felt like just writing.It's a style i like to throw out there every once in awhile.
Snigdha Banerjee Jul 2015
Dreams get the best upon me
if only i would open my eyes
to look upon the world of skies
Where no one knows such lies
A world with such a loving theme
Yet it is a longing deatination of dream !!!!!
A world beyond this exists where i dream my dream exists !
ArominizedM Jun 2015
I'd lie to stay awake,
I would choose the waking notion:
I'd try to speak it straight
for most of a dense impartial resolution.

I'd stay to wake a lie,
by a flaccid disrepair of state of mind,
contorting to sudden sigh
from mostly a yawn time seemed to find.

I'd wake to say a lie,
to whom you found a missing twentieth.
I'd stay to get by
an amusing theme of prose that is not done yet.
ink Mar 2015
birds migrate
they fly from one place to another
but always come back
to the original

during that time
you and i met
so lets migrate
like the birds
to the land of joy

birds migrate
they fly from the new place to the old
rest in their true homes
while you and i slept
birb baby = bae
Cathyy Jan 2015
If you're the moon with your phases
Then I'm a star gazer, mesmerised by the view..
And if your 'ring of Saturn' falls out I'd go up there myself and find one more suited for you

And how does it feel to have a face that so many call home?..
Cause for three sleepless nights, this 'homeless girl' gave up everything just to write you a poem..

Oh I've been struggling,

I've been staring at the page for ages,
Trying to find the most honest way to say this..
See every time you touch my heart I feel it breaking
So I will never let you know..
But you are so beautiful, I can't take it

And no I won't stop believing
That everyone comes into your life for some kind of reason..
But I'm not using you to write, I'm using you as a source for breathing
though every time I see you I fall to pieces..
..But every piece is in awe with you
So would you collect them and adore me too?

Oh I just can't describe this..
If there was a metaphor you know I'd write it..
You make me lost for words but I won't stop trying,
In hope of finding new parts of you,
Oh you are so beautiful, I don't like it

Cause it ties knots in my stomach.
And then my heart beat drains out the city but I can't stop it..
Is this a horrible poem cause I'm just being honest..
And though adrenaline is supposed to keep me going,
Oh you are so beautiful I can't focus

So don't get too close for comfort
Cause I love you so much my heart hurts,
And it's a pain my heart could take
If you just stay and take the pain away

And your little smile could go to the end of the world,
And I'd whisper your name if it was the end of the world,
..And I have writers block so I don't know what rhymes with 'end of the world',
But don't let me go even when you're someone else's girl
Cause you'll still always be this loser's world :')

.. And if I'm a stargazer mesmerised by the view,
Then I hope every constellation will add up to you.
I had three days of writers block so I really don't think this is a good piece but it's still a poem isn't it.
Abigail Shaw Dec 2014
12 in the dark, I sit awake by the window,
Across from Hyde Park, and the feel of the wind oh,
Sparking a bark, Nana's remarking from below,
Canine matriarch against the boy with no shadow,
Time's flickering by and I begin to rust,
Consumed, I'm high with lust just for pixie dust,
But to fly you must be robust and adjust,
And I can't, though I try, I just look with disgust,
Sitting on the sill, I think of him mournfully,
Hard as I try, I can't think of him scornfully,
Despite the fact that he talks so informally,
He says my name and I know I was born to be,
Part of the family, I think of them nightly,
Tootles, the twins, Curly, Nibs and Slightly,
Second star to the right, it shines so brightly,
Hope he might come back if I ask politely,
He doesn't apologize, he's immature and he's cold,
Lives in a land without rules so he can't be controlled,
But as soon as I saw him I knew I'd struck green-gold,
Peter Pan is a joke that just never gets old,
Don't smile at crocodiles down in Neverland,
And if you hear a ticking clock, hope the ships are manned,
Because there's a high demand for the taste of pirate band,
And if you're not hooked by now then Hook'll tell you first hand,
I flew here like a bird in a night-dress, frilly,
Scared, trying to fight stress, skin like Chantilly,
Found Peter and I confess that the boy's my Achilles,
Now I'm a lost girl treading on Tiger Lillies,
Acorns and thimbles are my idea of 'bases',
And sword fights with pirates are my ***** chasers,
Watching the boys as they fly and admiring Peter Pan,
But he's the boy who can't love here in Neverland,
I wanted devotion, to marry men who were charming,
So I repressed, left my emotion, I left Peter Pan snarling,
My own species no longer, just a common starling,
Caged by age at my window, I'm Wendy Darling.
Cara Little Nov 2014
Exposition
Exploration
Examination
Experimentation
Exhibition
Exp­erience
Exercise
Excelsior
Explosion
Exposure
Expansion
Exceeding­
Excitement
Excellence

except

Excessive
Expectations
Excuses
Ex­clamation
Excommunication
Excluded
Excreted
Exorcised
Expunged
Ex­acerbation
Exhale
Exit
Exeunt
Extinct

Ex-Star
Exactly.

(A chronological tale of a star who could not handle fame)
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