Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
#wording
Like bouquets of flowers Which are all but homogenous And withering from neglect. Like a classic & well known speech; But someone altered it greatly From structure, wording, & hermeneutics. Like beaches of glass, Where time & wave deny Any smoothing of edges. Poetry is long-winded, The stanzas bore Through ups & downs.
0
Apr 30, 2025
Apr 30, 2025 at 8:32 AM UTC
The Bricks Weathered & Chipped
And then I heard her heart through the screams that trickled down her cheeks She speaks...
0
Feb 24, 2025
Feb 24, 2025 at 8:04 AM UTC
Lazy Sunday Afflictions *coughs* Affections
What wonder with Poetry in Prose, and Prose in Poetry, those two together made at once, what Art is that whilst those trespass borders of what’s cognitive and not, my true form of wording and existing being as that! That is a feat, mingle those two together, make one fluent into train of events by the other and the other make the former an extravagance that should reign on us! The most forming way of expression verbally and not! And what experience would that be if we took under account again the spaces and the “Enter” key between verses in a classic poem structure, to think how that changes everything and what respect it demands in each line differently!
0
Aug 26, 2020
Aug 26, 2020 at 6:05 PM UTC
Prose & Poetry
Haven't wrote in a while my words stutteringggggg..... repeating the words before that duplicating expressive alterations. that sounded different! A particular vibrant diversity, worded, formulated.. effectively resonating, echoing in the same flow that seems different but cascading within contrasting similarity's..
0
Aug 19, 2020
Aug 19, 2020 at 6:09 PM UTC
I'm repeating in more constructive Metaphors
Snow flakes fall upon the black mountains.    But never mix,                            segregated. But where oriental blossom falls, in the next field          fruit pickers labour for                               gangs.. Our words define our morality..
0
May 24, 2020
May 24, 2020 at 11:12 AM UTC
Intolerant Metaphors
each fallen letter scattered the tabletop sliding their shadows behind from the darkness into light A through Z the alphabet yearns for their wording placement
0
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 4:02 AM UTC
A Through Z
By Arcassin Burnham Men being afraid of other men is a joke, Pretend to have a hard exterior from **** that they spoke, You seem to act tougher than the man you brought with ya' but when he leaves all those you said will just up and choke, Men ain't men no more, they just come with a gloat, For me its not easy to be a black man and be broke, Can say it two times , can say it three times, If I don't get it the first time, its not gon' work, Leave my emotions and my feelings and my anguish and my insecurities to put a troubled man under the dirt, Manhood comes first, This is a curse, Wicked worlds worth, How many men does it take to lift the earth, Not intimidated by no man. / Sparkles don't last as long than an life expectancy, Lashing my threats to my enemies, I am nothing but holy, I know I could peel the corruption from my skin, my soul, A morning like this could take me out of feeling old, A good solid feeling from the this I've told, Some days I feel my words are not enough and so, Reap what you sow, And so will they also be sold.
0
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 12:25 AM UTC
Intimidation / Tuesday Morning
I'm just a man                with a pencil sharpening it. For blunt words         never mean much, but sharpened words           are smooth on there understanding .
0
Mar 9, 2018
Mar 9, 2018 at 9:11 AM UTC
Poets With Sharp Pencils
A tiny and mere space of nothing in-between, No smiles or tears to capture in one’s heart, Lifeless emotion to stare on aimlessly, Graves are open to fill in, in part. Blank eyes have souls of no matter, Tea stains in perfect hollow rings, Thoughts come and go with furious wind, Take attention of nothing he sings. Fingers punching at plastic and horror, Read on dear people no love of pans, Lapping on ***** to feel something, anything, Speed in lines in ***** in acid coloured cans. Brace yourself Time my ***** master, I’m running to you now without jittery retention, Catch my waist as wings give promise in attendance, Pain gone or exhausted floccinaucinihilipilification.
0
Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 8:02 AM UTC
Floccinaucinihilipilification.
To the English-speaking people of earth: When you speak of new year's, do not mention resolutions. We need to make up our **** minds about what we want: a beginning, or an end? How can something you just started be resolved already? I know it's all in the wording, that it's YOUR resolve as a person we're talking about, but I think we're doing ourselves a disservice with this syntax. I have no resolutions for this new year. My resolutions are gone, done with, vanished, they have already passed into the great and vast "past". You can have my resolutions. As for me I'll hang onto my goals, my wishes, my aspirations for what this next cycle of days and weeks and months will bring.
0
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 12:41 AM UTC
On new year's resolutions
Words belong to everyone but you could put some together in the order that you wish like no one else could and they become yours Words belong to everyone these mystical, magical things they can be twisted and turned to the way your tongue talks and they are your own Words belong to everyone but some of them are mine
0
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 6:55 AM UTC
Mine
He creeps near to the foot of my bed With that smirk Oh he's come to cocoon me away to his army Of dented men With cropped souls He asked But never said please To come with him Where it's warm I shook my head He persuaded me But never said please To come with him Where gems trickle down your face I said no He insisted But never said please To come with him Where his home was I refused He forced me But never said please To come with him When a comforting light pierced through my eyes I couldn't see what it was For it was far too beautiful It sheered the man away It was so modest So against the beauty of living Of looking, of tasting It was a stoic; Passionless It was like the water So against the grains of sand Of dirt, of ink It was a stoic; Calm It was so indifferent So against the pull of pleasure Of sin, of feeling It was a stoic; Strong It was like god It was god For nothing Would come close To freeing the devil off the foot of my bed.
0
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 2:21 PM UTC
God (raw)