Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Josh Feb 2018
Your legs will not carry you quickly enough.
Your voice will not shout loudly nor whisper quietly enough.
Your heart will not stop beating and let you be still
until it stops beating and you are still.

You will whisper quietly in a voice that booms and echoes:

"Enough."
Enough is enough until you look at it written down too many times and become sure it isn't a real word.
Jessie Schwartz Feb 2018
An Angel Whispered …by Jessie 7/05

If an Angel whispered in your ear
What would the Angel say?

He’d whisper very softly
Please don’t cry today

You’ve cried enough; dry up your tears
Your prayers have all been heard

I am with you now my child
Listen to my words

You’ve been tested all your life
With tragedy and pain

To see how long this human heart
Can manage and sustain

We’ve given things and taken them
To see if you were strong

Pushing harder every time
You managed to hold on

I thought at times you just might break
When all your hope was lost

Especially when you thought of death
You’re heart in a deepened frost

So, I looked on down, upon your soul
For you I have a gift

To brighten up your spirits
Your heavy heart will lift

Someone to love and give you love
To put a smile upon your face

A message, whispered by an Angel
A message full of grace
Star BG Feb 2018
I whispered to sun.
“Won’t you come out and play with me.
as I gracefully dance below your rays of light.”

The sun smiled answering divinely,
as it played peek a boo with clouds.

I whispered to moon.
“Won’t you come and play with me,
as I delicately sing sparking
like another star in your robe of diamonds.”

The moon smiled answering with light,
as it played vibrating strong in night sky.

I whispered to my dreams.
“Won’t you come and play with me,
as I may celebrate life with gratitude.”

The heart answered in rhythmic song,
as I felt a blanket of miracles emerge.
The word whisper jumped out at me hence this poem was born.
Mystic Ink Plus Feb 2018
If given me the universe,    
With culture of humanity,  
I will be searching a divine soul  
A fallen angel,    
With a gravity of morality    
Godly creature of fantasy  

Defying the maternal laws  
Causing emotions standstill  
Echoes oscillate  
Echoes oscillate
Lastly, heard a whisper  
Confessing Love  
Philosophy of Completion  

When, 1+1=1  
Here, Chemistry defy Mathematics  
Gravity of love
Gravity of Love. Shared from my Anthology, Canvas: Echoes and Reflections. 2018.
Feeling soft, cool breezes gliding on my skin like a graceful dance
Feeling as though I'm in a nostalgic trance
Nostalgic of once being surrounded by zephyr whispers
Familiar scents lurk within the gusts and seemingly withers

Flowing memories soon ascent;
Bringing a sense of tranquility;
Rising emotionally beyond ability
A memory having no rhyme or reason, soon descents.
Meaning: What sparked the idea of creating this was just one night just before midnight sitting on my bed. It was silent and I had my window open to let in some cool air and during all of this I started randomly thinking of sweet nostalgic early memories and at the same time sensing and feeling the soft cool breezes come out of my window and slide on my bare skin. It felt right to create this type of poem as I became obsessed with the moment.
Steve McNutt Feb 2018
Don't scream "I love you" from the mountaintops,
competing with the babel and clamor of the world.
Whisper it to me in the still silence of the night,
making me strain to hear it,
blocking out the din of the universe to focus on the melody of your voice.
Let me feel it infuse the skin of my neck,
carried by the sweetness of your breath.
© 2018, Steven S. McNutt
Ruth Jan 2018
You were quiet,
And I was loud,
You were amazing,
And I was proud.

You barely spoke once a day,
And I could talk forever,
But most days we didn't need to speak,
As long as we were together.

Because it was what you didn't say,
so worthwhile yet small,
Those are the whispers,
that made me love you at all.
Shawn B Jan 2018
It's my day off

even-though so was yesterday I feel I deserve a rest.

I cleaned the washroom
I did my reading
I even exercised in the basement,
a little longer than usual.
Man am I great!


Then comes the lazy hesitance,
"this is not the end, begin."


Content with what I've done. I can do no more,

Well I could but I think I'll just play video games.


the lazy hesitance with a silent call a draw to do,
"one more thing"


Be wise with these urges it could steer me wrong, again!

But it says, "go out", not **** your neighbor.


The heavy lazy hesitance,
coupled with the silent push to do one more,
"just go out the door, just out the door that's all honest."


"It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to."


I dunno, should I go jogging?
It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to. The quote is of course from the LOTR, I got it from the book - online search. Just a funny poem about motivation I guess. Hope you like.  oh and PS. after this I'm going out for a JOG.
meekah Jan 2018
i can’t write about what it feels like
to run my fingers through your hair
or feel your hands on my skin
(no matter how much i want to)
i can’t speak to the softness of your lips
or what it sounds like
when you whisper my name
(no matter how much i want to)
i don’t know what the skin on your hips
feels like after you’ve showered
or what it’s like to wake up
to your breath on my shoulder
(no matter how much i want to)
i can’t write about the feeling
of our skin
soft and rough
holding hands
(oh god, i want to)
i can’t write about you
in anything other than the abstract
no
matter
how
much
i
want
to
Sumus System Jan 2019
An image
It stares back at me
Such a peculiar, yet familiar face
It lives

My heart begins to pound as a voice seeps into my head
I know it well
It breathes a poison that clouds my thoughts
I look back to the stranger

The figure looks at me
Their form is perfect
I see myself
And I am wrong

A smile of kindness and beauty materializes
It is beloved by many
The expression I see before me is long dead
Lost to the perpetual whisper

I sigh as I let it envelop me
Why resist?
It’s words buzz about
Telling me what I already see

A ghost
No longer are they real
Were they ever?
I may never know

The husk that I see,
The stranger I know so well
Looks one last time





I turn away
I wrote this when I was feeling particularly down. To me, it's about how my dysphoria makes my reflection a stranger.
Next page