Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Lowkie May 2020
I'm a poet, but not a conversationalist
All these thoughts going through my head
But really, I don't talk a lot
"Why you so quiet"
My tongue is caught in a knot
I'll probably turn into a different person
After another shot
-
I'm a thinker, not a speaker
If you want to get know me
You'll probably have to dig deeper
Analyzing my every response
Before finding a simple one
That might hopefully reach you
-
I'm a poet, I'm a thinker
I'm not a conversationalist, I'm not a speaker
If you approach me
I'll probably keep it brief
Maybe it's a blessing or maybe it's a curse
But if you want to get to know me
I'll have to let you into my conscious first
-
Lowkie©
Joshua r Hopkins May 2020
Are you crying from lying I'm desperately trying to understand your brain.
There is a part I'm never buying and I know I'm not insane.
You say you want to prove this wrong but you know it's not the same!
I want to carry the message along as life is not a game.
Mrs Anybody Feb 2020
when
everyone else
is asleep
the thinkers
write down
their thoughts
also check out my other poems!  :)
S I N Dec 2019
In a posture of a Thinker i do
Sit; my head perched on a fist which is
Attached to an arm which concludes
In an elbow which rests on my knee; the
Tile is aquamarine; the door is ajar for
There is some problem with some hinges;
Not enough-ajar to see but sufficient
Enough to notice some discontent on
The visage; the pipe is running through
My place; beginning and ending though
Beyond my sight; so the rest of it does not
Exist; and so my head is proped up and in
My bowels the strife not for life but for
Death cannot come to the conclusion;
No truce is possible i presume; as if
Someone wrings my intestines both large
And small; the wamble or a growl crumbles
My entrails and shakes them trying to
Displace then; all exertions are to no
Good ******* right was Tolstoy as
Always that there is only two truly
Important plights: good health and clear
Conscious; ******* the old man was
Right all along; though when I imagine him
In his loo of the 19th century doubling up
On his throne holding perhaps to the walls
In the moment of the endeavor to push to
Push to push O God to push forward O
Man that connotés to you something
But doesn’t change the fact that you are
Still in that tiled room with no means of
Escape but to fight and push your way
Through Oh there it goes like in the
Hospital they say to you Don’t go to
The white light but go now you must it
Is your time my man come on we’ve been
Through so much so come on go and be
And throes are in the way but that is okay
For This is the Way **** let it be and ohhhh
Bloop; Friction; Flush; off we go and may
Our paths shall never cross
Tony Tweedy Dec 2019
To take a thought or some emotion,
and to convert it to the written word.
To have a voice unspoken,
and to know it yet may be heard.

To place before the audience
some learning or to simply share a view.
To tell of things, of love or pain,
and to give a glimpse of you.

To remove an outer layer,
or remove a mental crutch.
To open up your soul,
and expose it to their touch.

To etch into the mind,
of someone never met.
A hope a dream or some idea,
that they will not forget.

Each and every poet,
writes of what they have lived and feel.
And from their own experience and dreams,
they paint for us unseen worlds to real.

Through conveyance by the written word,
that great poets have oft expressed in rhyme.
Casting forward thoughts of love and wisdom,
to become unforgotten and to be heard for all of time.
The power of words.... surely man's only true pathway to immortality.
cecily Aug 2019
I wonder what they wonder
These people same my age
I wonder how they think
Is it deep like my depth?

or maybe
I'm just an old soul
trapped in a young body
shout out to all old souls
Maziar Ghaderi Apr 2019
i promise ill betray you
the more you hold on your to assumptions and emotions
the more ill play with you
all those ideas from faceless voices in the maze
you’ve inherited happily
because who has the time to think on their own?
Always Ally Mar 2019
You convince yourself to stay where you are
because you're afraid of wading in waters you don't know.
You believe it won't be better than where you are now,
but you know you're not happy
You deserve better.

You feel ungrateful for what's be given to you,
but you matter too.
Unhappy is unhappy.
Don't let it sit. Don't let it dwell.

You convince yourself that certain things outweigh the others.
The small things matter too.
You're allowed to be upset,
but you'll never allow yourself.
You deserve better.
Chante Hinsey Mar 2019
He was very much mentally exhausted from the three previous rounds of word play that we had. But I was very much still aroused.

I needed to grip on his large cranium as he inserted his think logophiled member into the creases of my cerebral.

I wanted him to feel my muscles tightening around his fingers as he caressed my mind.

I needed him to use his tongue to make my brain drip wet like a leaky faucet. I'm wondering if he lost it. Grip on my medulla and massage my grey plump jewel.

I could of done something else to stimulate my brain like reading a book about trains. But what fun would that be when my mate is by my side willing to start mentally ******* me.

I think I went overboard. He has his thinking cap on like the supreme overlord. Should I grab 100 words you never heard. Or just take my defeat and get back to the sheets.

Baby as the pendulum swings
We exist in moment that escapes time
Let my lips service your soul
with great rhetoric when i bend on my knees cause baby about to blow your mind

Should I make his toes curl by the vigorous word use I'm about to hurl.  No I'll just sit back and play defeated like the nymphal  bad girl.
Next page