Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Tip
Easy to give useful tips
Someone who doesn't do the estimates himself.
It's easy to scold grumpy poets
Someone who can't find the words.

When you write a letter to your beloved lady,
I would advise you to write poetry.
I would advise you to eat halva,
But you're sick on both heads.

What artist can be given advice?
Don't leave a gun in the dressing room.
What advice is good for a deputy?
Do not raise public sector wages.

Advice for a buyer –
Don't come to the store without money.
The pickpocket kind of two tips:
Grab the bills, leave the coins.

The diver will appreciate the wish –
Dive where the habitat is.
Hint to all freeloaders in the final –
Read the classics in the original.
Loathe
Power verb
Direct, yes
Though,
Verbose is
How I wrote

Still I write in open circles
Even I don't know what I mean. Trust.
Looping back, is there not an artistry in that?

Together
Adjective for the ages
Cut to form,
Don't get me wrong,
It sounds fitting
With the way you lead your life.

Your confines.

Look at all my fitted pieces.
I bend the lines with word as waveform.
Looping back,
Fulfilling is
As useless
As it is
Useful
Matthew Jan 14
We look into the damp, dark recesses of our mind
to look for finite definition
for our actions and expressions.
We are looking for a straight line in a work comprised of curved loops.
How we don't acknowledge the curved loops' flexibility to
everything.

We can only see shapes through our narrow minds.
Not the abstract dimensionality.
The straightening of a curved loop is the destruction of true art.
Moving endlessly with infinite pertinence.
That no one
yet everyone
understands.
I don't really I understand what I'm saying, but there's this insinuation that makes this feel expressionate.
Mustapha Olokun Jul 2018
as they believe,
the king is high.
they were taught,
never knew his presence.

believing this,
believing that.
when the staff tap,
the petals bow.

thrown by elegance.
a precious woman
that flicks her garments,
by the first request.

the king's reputation,
is an interesting concept.
leave it for the maids
within the castle to assess.

should they say,
he is a king.
should they say,
he is not.

in the moment,
the throne is untouched.
tampered with by destiny,
left by ritual.

But likewise,
you heard of the funk,
the root, the black,
the smooth bamboo.

you heard good.
future chills,
down the spine line,
at sounds will .

chill.
feel the rush
and trust the detail.
cause like the maids . . .

they may say,
he is good,
they may say,
he is not .

yet the bamboo
sets stature,
hard like rock,
and useful right after.

they attempt
breaks and cuts for reduction,
but only form singing flutes
as the winds set their production.
a metaphor . . .
ChildofGodyay Jul 2018
Fear, please don't embrace me.
Please don't come chasing after me.
Please don't.

Fear, please don't stop me.
Please don't make me to be afraid to even worship God...

Worthlessness, please don't replace my mirror.
Please don't take away my identity, the truth I hold onto.

Uselessness, please don't come and be my secretary.
Please don't be my frequent notifications on my phone, on my heart.

Unloving, please don't come and replace my heart.
Please don't keep captives my thoughts, my words, my actions.

No. I am not asking.
I am telling you.
To leave.
CC Feb 2018
Nobody has to know about me
I am a person of insignificance
I only prioritize truth or beauty
There is no need to know about me
I am not like the Saints of past
I am no hero who does any deed so valiant
I need every inch of strength to give to my heart
For my heart is weak in times like these
Time makes we wane and wither
I usually can't fall in love
If I do find a true love
It becomes an obsession
To never see the darkness in another heart
I am imperfect in every way
I know that I shall never see that daylight coming
For I know one thing
Nobody will know about me
I will stay invisible to the naked eye
A telescope is needed to see my stars
I am so very near you
I am nobody of significance
I wish to start my journey as Anonymous
Carving no name on this road I pave
Heaven can wait
Until I am nobody's name
James smith Nov 2017
I’m a dying seed in a Desert ground,
With no water to feed my roots Useless as it seems, oh how you make it rain so I can spread my roots soon to grow to feed the hummingbirds.
I’m the food crumbs between the countertops decomposing by the days, useful for red the ants to take.
I’m a dead animal rotting away on a lonely long highway, as magnets feed on, so on as the ravens feed upon. I’m a guitar with the tone of D, what is useful is this melody? but so sweet by the ears of the listeners.
A dead star in the endless space, useful at night to show your beauty to behold the eyes of the souls you wish to Capture. Every sound is an endless song for your praise.
To know the unuseful is useful, we are useful for the consuming fire God.
01— this song is about how we can think to ourselfs sometimes we are useless or God can’t use us, everything in this life is useful, for something, we are useful for God and his kingdom.
02— mewithoutyou pale horses:appendix album was my  Music  inspiration.
03—  The name consuming fire God ( hebrews 12:29)  i use a lot bible  references to mane God. I’m a guy who believes in God his son.
Megan VanKo Oct 2017
Inspiration
Comes in
B U R S T S
All at once
Or never

It's something
That everybody wants
For different reasons
School
Work
Creativity

Inspiration
likes to come
at inconvient times
While in the shower
Or during a speech
Sometimes when you're asleep
And then it leaves
By the time you
Awaken.

Inspiration
Is pretty annoying
But also
Pretty **** useful
Grace Jordan Nov 2016
It's odd to think of how much time I spend working out a mental fallacy or problem in my head or on paper and then it's just gone. It's like a rhetorical analysis and my life is a story.

Today i was struggling a tad about spending this weekend at my boyfriend's and him not spending too much time with me. But immediately afterward, I summed that yes, he's happy to see me, but I was the one who asked to visit and he already had plans of things to do. So Though he appreciated my company, he has others things to do and enjoy as well.

This is not OUR weekend or holiday. I am just participating in it.

It was like this welling emotion of hurt suddenly was alleviated, knowing that it was not about shirking me; it was about getting things he had already endeavored to do done.

Thinking gets me to many better places than places I previously was before.

I solve a lot of my own problems staring at a screen and typing them out, or just staring and thinking in general. It gets me through issues that don't need to be issues. Its just my chemical imbalances ramping up small emotions that need not be catastrophic, but can sometimes turn to be.

Similarly, I've solved why I'm an extrovert writer. My only friends were people in stories, and though I adore human energy and potential, real human beings do not compare to the neatness and logic of story characters. They can both feel as real, but real people can change on a dime, or be growthless, or waste their time and learn nothing.

In a story we'd call that unrealistic.

So I'm content being around people, feeding off their glorious energy, but also fine not being too interactive at all times. I can hear voices in movies, I can meet people in stories. I can suffice on the people between pages, and also the people out of pages who feel strong and real and connective to me.

Thinking and reflecting is one of my strongest traits. Telling my therapist about this trait was one of the first times I realized my possible brilliance. I told her I reflect and work out problems with myself, as it was the only way I figured out how to live when things were worst, and she was stunned. She says that trait, one used to often, can sometimes be attributed to genius.

Understandably, I was also stunned.

Reflecting on reflecting even feels rejuvenating. I am so proud of this skill, the skill that kept me alive and now is helping me learn to be self-sufficient. The growth is exponential. The usability is astounding.

I feel so lucky to be able to have it.
Homunculus Mar 2016
I write poetry often, but it never writes me back.
Rude...
Next page