#titled - Hello Poetry

Don't worry about the TITLE It only took me three minutes of scrolling to find FOUR THAT WERE THE SAME

0

Jan 7, 2025

Jan 7, 2025 at 10:07 AM UTC

AbbottJHardison

Scrapbook Poem #87

Don't worry about the TITLE It only took me three minutes of scrolling to find FOUR THAT WERE THE SAME

4

#*Compare not Do not come and pare down What is not yours In a courtroom Judgments are fine Out of that, keep it to yourself Talent is to show Come out and shine Latent lost, never undermine*#

0

Jul 31, 2020

Jul 31, 2020 at 6:16 AM UTC

sarita-aditya-verma

Not titled

#*Compare not Do not come and pare down What is not yours In a courtroom Judgments are fine Out of that, keep it to yourself Talent is to show Come out and shine Latent lost, never undermine*#

9

Yea of course writing ideas unstoppably burst asunder at the most inconvenient opportunities such as driving Miss Daisy, taking a shower, or using the bathroom. Accursed ambition becoming a prolific scrivener (case in point Stephen King) Woolworth ridding, oddly lumbering lackadaisically shoehorning out this being from a self made gully. The jury yet to decree if attempting to extricate muss elf from tangled web of decades old setbacks via literary output successful. Every morning, noon and night, this chap blunders, flounder, (like a phish out of water), yet plod his shipshape reclusive quiet-natured person along the boulevard of broken dreams. Oft times, huff hind aye muss elf entering The Dead Zone (bordering a Pet Sematary). Earlier, a previous saunter found me surmounting The Green Mile. Attendant in regard to these Bag Of Bones, and Desperation to acquire telephone contact with Cell phone quickens pace despite Insomnia. No matter unexpected Sleeping Beauties warrant kisses, my determination, motivation, and slight trepidation occasionally breeds (The Dark Half), doomsday facet heftily jackknifing lust. Occasionally, a feeble goading simply under minds any corporeal aim to restore endeavor to experience Joyland. IT (creative juices within spur meeting Rose Red and her restorative powers. Onward atheistic soldier goes this chap. No matter tipping point (vis a vis hungry fatigued body clamors for Needful Things. Revival (for food and sleep) frequently appears grim. Downcast state of body, mind and spirit reinforced by mirage. The Dark Tower looms ahead! Adjacent to ominous evil looking structure silhouette casted of a Black House. The initial ambition to ward off abysmal results summon forth creative literary juices. Simultaneously a migraine headache pounding pitted LIX. They hammer horrifically, ferociously, and diabolically. Shades of shad rock Under The Dome. Ma noggin aches like The Tommyknockers! Every attempt to locate a royal crowning coeval counterpart jinxed with laborious ill luck. Hell in a hand basket plight usually generates nostalgia for destiny to Carrie be back to Ole Virginny. Sage advice from Christine, Delores Claiborne, or The Colorado Kid, yours truly blithely heeded. As a result (The Outsider within this paperback writer wannabe) sports defeat written all over face. Concomitant figurative futility gussies and kickstarts leaving invisible pockmarks. Ordinary Dreamcatcher fate invariably finds aptly named Writer Errs Block. Need to back track arises (figuratively) along vista. The roads have no name. They command stubborn respect. Near impossible mission manifested to transcend mental hindrance. This more difficult than playing Gerald's Game. Hence sigh embrace The Shining opportunity to avoid Misery. Doctor Sleep would undoubtedly encourage braving, challenging self confronting The Eyes Of The Dragon. Such a risky pursuit could force facing pitbull Cujo. No matter gamble foisted prospect fraught frightfully being burned at the stake by a Firestarter. Voluntary action brings small hairs to tingle. Hunchback, sans severely curved spine straightens. This (The Stand) ding pose offered supreme vision as promised by The Talisman. Tidbits by me alias Mr. Mercedes reddit carefully Just in case The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon chanced to stumble upon this redoubt versus her hours spent staring at a blinking cursor. Metaphorical po' wet ick feet took me where they would.

0

Feb 22, 2018

Feb 22, 2018 at 5:20 PM UTC

matthew-scott-harris2p

My Muck Cob Brie - cheesy poem

Yea of course writing ideas unstoppably burst asunder at the most inconvenient opportunities such as driving Miss Daisy, taking a shower, or using the bathroom. Accursed ambition becoming a prolific scrivener (case in point Stephen King) Woolworth ridding, oddly lumbering lackadaisically shoehorning out this being from a self made gully. The jury yet to decree if attempting to extricate muss elf from tangled web of decades old setbacks via literary output successful. Every morning, noon and night, this chap blunders, flounder, (like a phish out of water), yet plod his shipshape reclusive quiet-natured person along the boulevard of broken dreams. Oft times, huff hind aye muss elf entering The Dead Zone (bordering a Pet Sematary). Earlier, a previous saunter found me surmounting The Green Mile. Attendant in regard to these Bag Of Bones, and Desperation to acquire telephone contact with Cell phone quickens pace despite Insomnia. No matter unexpected Sleeping Beauties warrant kisses, my determination, motivation, and slight trepidation occasionally breeds (The Dark Half), doomsday facet heftily jackknifing lust. Occasionally, a feeble goading simply under minds any corporeal aim to restore endeavor to experience Joyland. IT (creative juices within spur meeting Rose Red and her restorative powers. Onward atheistic soldier goes this chap. No matter tipping point (vis a vis hungry fatigued body clamors for Needful Things. Revival (for food and sleep) frequently appears grim. Downcast state of body, mind and spirit reinforced by mirage. The Dark Tower looms ahead! Adjacent to ominous evil looking structure silhouette casted of a Black House. The initial ambition to ward off abysmal results summon forth creative literary juices. Simultaneously a migraine headache pounding pitted LIX. They hammer horrifically, ferociously, and diabolically. Shades of shad rock Under The Dome. Ma noggin aches like The Tommyknockers! Every attempt to locate a royal crowning coeval counterpart jinxed with laborious ill luck. Hell in a hand basket plight usually generates nostalgia for destiny to Carrie be back to Ole Virginny. Sage advice from Christine, Delores Claiborne, or The Colorado Kid, yours truly blithely heeded. As a result (The Outsider within this paperback writer wannabe) sports defeat written all over face. Concomitant figurative futility gussies and kickstarts leaving invisible pockmarks. Ordinary Dreamcatcher fate invariably finds aptly named Writer Errs Block. Need to back track arises (figuratively) along vista. The roads have no name. They command stubborn respect. Near impossible mission manifested to transcend mental hindrance. This more difficult than playing Gerald's Game. Hence sigh embrace The Shining opportunity to avoid Misery. Doctor Sleep would undoubtedly encourage braving, challenging self confronting The Eyes Of The Dragon. Such a risky pursuit could force facing pitbull Cujo. No matter gamble foisted prospect fraught frightfully being burned at the stake by a Firestarter. Voluntary action brings small hairs to tingle. Hunchback, sans severely curved spine straightens. This (The Stand) ding pose offered supreme vision as promised by The Talisman. Tidbits by me alias Mr. Mercedes reddit carefully Just in case The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon chanced to stumble upon this redoubt versus her hours spent staring at a blinking cursor. Metaphorical po' wet ick feet took me where they would.

68

There are few things more satisfying than watching a lone mosquito furiously trying to drill baby, drill circling the drill site pushing and pushing Do mosquitos sweat? on the roof of your car.

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Jul 18, 2017

Jul 18, 2017 at 3:17 PM UTC

skip-ploss-1

Do Mosquitos Sweat?

There are few things more satisfying than watching a lone mosquito furiously trying to drill baby, drill circling the drill site pushing and pushing Do mosquitos sweat? on the roof of your car.

9

https://www.amazon.in/gp/aw/review/B00MYY0DMA/ By Kalpana Arora on 9 June 2017 Verified Purchase It deserves more than 5 stars! The story ends with two messages perfectly conveyed. 1. Don't waste your time in search of love while you are studying. 2. The current caste-based reservation system in India is flawed. I can't disagree here. What a magician Atul is! Such romance, poetry, love, heartbreak, action and what not! Surely a class apart than most popular novelists!

0

Jul 1, 2017

Jul 1, 2017 at 7:10 AM UTC

Atul

What She Said In Her Kindle Review

https://www.amazon.in/gp/aw/review/B00MYY0DMA/ By Kalpana Arora on 9 June 2017 Verified Purchase It deserves more than 5 stars! The story ends with two messages perfectly conveyed. 1. Don't waste your time in search of love while you are studying. 2. The current caste-based reservation system in India is flawed. I can't disagree here. What a magician Atul is! Such romance, poetry, love, heartbreak, action and what not! Surely a class apart than most popular novelists!

10

you said you can read me like a book but you won't tell me what my pages say, or how many there are, what my chapters are titled, if they even are titled i want to know who my introduction mentions, what my author's note says, and who helped me with the theme but honestly, please at least tell me about the chapter where you appear just let me know if it ends well

0

Apr 2, 2016

Apr 2, 2016 at 10:12 PM UTC

gravygod

read me my book

you said you can read me like a book but you won't tell me what my pages say, or how many there are, what my chapters are titled, if they even are titled i want to know who my introduction mentions, what my author's note says, and who helped me with the theme but honestly, please at least tell me about the chapter where you appear just let me know if it ends well

10

i'm gonna write a poem, and i'm gonna call it Untitled because that is what it is. Kind of like the way we were, untitled. We were nonchalant and no big deal, and i guess you expected it to be the same when you left. but it's not. Now we know why I need a title.

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Sep 26, 2014

Sep 26, 2014 at 12:57 AM UTC

kylie-formella

titled

i'm gonna write a poem, and i'm gonna call it Untitled because that is what it is. Kind of like the way we were, untitled. We were nonchalant and no big deal, and i guess you expected it to be the same when you left. but it's not. Now we know why I need a title.

12

Din of voices crowding out thoughts Thoughts constructed of safety pins and toothpicks held together with spit Spit dribbling out of the hungry mouth that yearns for companionship Companionship which is desired but not truly felt Felt people saunter past, their fabric feet barely touching the ground Ground into a pulp are the vicious spiders of memory Memory is a tactile thing that turns in contemporary web Web of truths spinning and spinning beneath agile fingers Fingers dug into temples' throbbing ache of words words words Words are not enough to describe this mortal dullness Dullness like the din of voices crowding out Thoughts

0

Aug 26, 2014

Aug 26, 2014 at 4:00 PM UTC

sammmbee

No Man Is An Island and Yet Here I Sit Surrounded By the Sea

Din of voices crowding out thoughts Thoughts constructed of safety pins and toothpicks held together with spit Spit dribbling out of the hungry mouth that yearns for companionship Companionship which is desired but not truly felt Felt people saunter past, their fabric feet barely touching the ground Ground into a pulp are the vicious spiders of memory Memory is a tactile thing that turns in contemporary web Web of truths spinning and spinning beneath agile fingers Fingers dug into temples' throbbing ache of words words words Words are not enough to describe this mortal dullness Dullness like the din of voices crowding out Thoughts

12

untitled; not knowing a name to put on my favorite book of how I love to waking up beside you in the morning. Or any knowledge of metaphors and fallacies that exist to define our love. I cannot put a title of the chemistry between us. Unentitled; Your heart is not mine to love and your hand not mine to hold. I have no title or claim to any ounce, hair, or breathe that you have but I want it so much. I long to be yours, to be entitled to your everything.

0

May 29, 2014

May 29, 2014 at 10:26 PM UTC

aavelinajaden

untitled vs unentitled

untitled; not knowing a name to put on my favorite book of how I love to waking up beside you in the morning. Or any knowledge of metaphors and fallacies that exist to define our love. I cannot put a title of the chemistry between us. Unentitled; Your heart is not mine to love and your hand not mine to hold. I have no title or claim to any ounce, hair, or breathe that you have but I want it so much. I long to be yours, to be entitled to your everything.

2