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Chase Parrish Mar 2019
Is poetry a way to cope with pain?
My chest throbs dully in low agony.
You see, heartache is a physical thing.
It hurts as if it's any wound to me.
I'm not afraid to state my malady,
Depression is what resides in my brain.

And it's the way it manifests, I hate
In doubting in myself, and what I'm worth
In old memories, losses, things of weight
Frustrations pop and boil as on a hearth
Sometimes I wish for return to the earth,
But I've been down that road, in bitter pace.

       I write, not for the pain, which wont relieve.
       However, when it's shared, it will indeed.
Ok I have something... different to share
The Unnamed Sonnet form is a form I created out of love for the rhyme-scheme of the Italian Sonnet, and for Shakespeare's use of the volta when used in the last couplet. I feel like it's a good deviation from the traditional kinds of sonnets because it fills a needed role. In the Unnamed Sonnet form you have the ability to talk about one idea, in two different ways, and then tie them together at the volta, which because of this will usually end up at the couplet. It is harder to do this in a Shakespearean Sonnet due the theme being carried by three quatrains. Similarly in the Italian Sonnet, the Octave usually controls the theme, then the sestet draws to the conclusion. I feel like two sestets followed by a couplet is a strong way to convey one point in two ways. Or to convey two points, separately, while still drawing a strong conclusion. I will eventually get around to naming it, the name is tied into the first one of it's kind, of which I had to strip it's name.
Would love this critiqued
Mohith Dec 2018
You are mist.
The closer you are,
The less I see the world.

Even when you aren't,
I feel the aura you bring.
The stillness you posses,
Make me feel the warmth.

You descent over the paths,
Keeping me idle.
You vanish,
Keeping me spellbound.

But for the visible absence,
You are mist.
"The death of one man is a tragedy, the death of millions is a statistic."
-Joseph Stalin

This is for the unnamed.
This is for the unwanted.

This is for those who were never given a chance.
This is for them that live without a voice.
The ones who were never given a second glance.
This is for them who have no choice.

To those who watch out
But aren't watched out for
To those who pout
Because they don't have anything anymore

Let's raise a glass
Let's make this useless gesture
To appreciate those who won't last
To observe those who falter

Because there's nothing else we can do
For those unfortunate few
That have no one to turn to.
Appreciation is the only thing we can offer, and yet we so rarely do.
Nylee Oct 2017
I'll like to cut short
   this unnamed chapter
it has made the little heart
   beat a lot faster
Japoy Laluna Sep 2016
You spoke my name.
It was a whisper
of innumerable decibels
but enough
for a heart to thump louder
than the thoughts in my head
which laid near your lips
breathing chills against my skin
freezing me from the time
I was trying to find a star
in the four cornered
motion slowing room
hoping for a wish
   let this time stop
       before we're burdened of this secret
   let me savor those innocent lips
      who unbelievably will surrender to my sinful soul
   let not a single second pass without remark
      for this night might be our last.
Then you spoke my name again,
with your eyes closed,
your lashes, breathing
all peaceful,
all saying,
I was in your dream.
Unnamed Poet Jul 2016
beaten and bruised
afraid to be used
but made to be *******
Dana Skorvankova Jul 2016
You said you ain't got nothing
Just to put your hands on
No rhyme, no song to sing,
Nor place to hide or hut to build,
Have no sacrifice nor strength to feel,
And though you tried so bad
I know It's been so hard to tell
That you're almost gone
That you're hardly standing straight.

You said you surely don't need
Any more time for yourself to bleed
And I heard you spent hours
Sittin' on the shore,
You stood back up with words
That the last book you wrote
Is almost done.
AllAtOnce Feb 2015
I love the way your eyes light up when you smile
Like the amber sun dipping towards the ground
I love the way you see right through me
How you somehow know i'm always down
You can sing with a choir of angles
But don't ask me how that sounds
Your nonsense babbling is adorable
But you sure can argue and mess around
You're passive and aggressive
I think it depends on the day
And you don't know how beautiful you are
Or how your butterfly eyes fly away

— The End —