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English Jam Feb 2018
The eyes of a supernova seeping into mine
So harsh, so hot, but so soft, so loving
Passionate but patient
So much in so few
It’s so warm

Cheeky grins and burning desire taunt me
So painful, so explosive but so comforting, so alluring
Painstaking but playful
Ablaze though we’re scared
It’s extraordinary

There’s no words to match this melodic image
So sweaty, so intense but so quiet, so calm
Dreamy but real
Like a fantasy
It’s blissful

The sensation of fire melting to stardust
Embrace it, taste it, love it, feel it
Crafted and delicate
Two stars colliding
His pulsating heartbeat needs me
My longing kiss needs him

He’s my lover boy
And I’m his
It’s so warm
vllxch Dec 2017
I never thought that i will fall for you.
But, here i am.
Every day, every second,
falling for you over and over again.

I told God
my struggle on finding the right man to date.
because, i'm tired of wasting my time on someone who don't
deserve me.
But i guess, He just sent me one person
who deserve me and i deserve him,
it's you.
He knows that i need someone that could change me to be a better person.

You are that "someone".
You are the one that i never thought would come.
but, i'm so lucky and thankful that you here.

How i'm so in love with every wise words that you said.
the way you take responsibility of everything you do,
and the way you take care of me like brother take care of his sister.

There are so much more about you that makes me fall deeply in love with you,
but i don't wanna share it to everyone,
or else they will fall for you too.
Margaret Jun 2014
I've gotten in trouble before
          though it hasn't been for awhile
For a shirt too low
                  or a short too short.

And I took time out of my day
For boys who couldn’t stop staring.
Purcy Flaherty Mar 2018
I heard the footsteps as they came across the road;
The snap of hurried feet outside the house.
Shapes in the moonlight, a voice in the darkness,
A knock at the door, I heard the dogs barking.    
The bleating of the flock,
The chatter of the birds omongst the trees,
I recall the whisper of the morning breeze;
Hyphening the broken silence as two boys stole about the house;
It was midnight in August 99.
Two sparks set out to chase the bang!
Bang!~ set them running.
I cut them down!
I cut them down!
-
I heard the sirens as the cops sped up the road;
The squeal of hurried wheels outside the house.
More shapes in the moonlight, a voice in the darkness,
A knock at the door, I heard the dogs barking.
The bleating of the flock,
The chatter of the birds amongst the trees,
I recall the whisper of the morning breeze;
Hyphening the broken silence as two cops stole about the house;
It was midnight in August 99.
Two cops set out to chase the bang!  
Bang! ~I put my hands up!
~and the cops took me down!
-
It's true ~
Judge I’m guilty, for everything they said I did; I did!
But there were reasons, don’t you see:
These boys; they were bullying me!
I called the cops on monday,  Tuesday,, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday again; till i was insain;
Two sparks set out to chase the bang!
Bang ~I cut them down ~ I cut them down!
~
Two cops set out to chase the bang!
Bang! ~ I put my hands up !
~ and the cops  took me down!

But the wolf just gave me twenty
untill the circus came to town,
As a victim I was lonely
but as a killer I was crowned.
King of the castle!
Top of the heap!
The talk of the town!
Here is the song link
https://youtu.be/j9whsrQCaIE
Sky Aug 2018
It doesn’t really matter if you’re hungry
You’re not even going to eat
You aren’t a loser, you’ll win this game
It’s a game you have to defeat
It’s hot outside and you’re really cold
Your young, small body is feeling old
You feel so starved down to your soul
Keep it up honey, you’re on a roll
You want to be half but you are whole
You hate this game but you’re in control
To feel in control you must pay the price
It doesn’t cost much, just your life
No matter what, you’re always alone
It’s you and me, it’s written in stone
You’ve lost everything that you love and own
But at least you have your beautiful bones
Your body hates you but that’s okay
Everyone has left, but I’ll always stay
That was my goal all along
To make you feel guilty, to make you feel wrong
Everything I say is helpful, everything I say is the cure
You don’t want to feel disgusting, do you? Don’t you want to be pure?
Tiny, Angelic, Dainty and Delicate
Everything else is completely irrelevant
You’ll never feel shameless, you’ll be the greatest!
Listen to me darling, don’t you want to be weightless?
Tired, gaunt, pointless and twisted
The girl you’ve been talking to never existed
It’s all in your head, but your head is her home
You’ve got nothing left to control, but your brittle little bones ~
Deb Jones Oct 2017
I raised 3 boys
A kid having kids
Unto them I poured
All my love
I didn't have a mentor
Someone I could emulate
So I made things up
As I went along
Some things I got right
Some things I got wrong
Self help books
Filled my shelves
My boys would mutter
"Mom, got a new book"
When I implemented
Any new rules
My boys are men now
And I have a special bond
With each one of them
The late night calls
That last for hours
The tears they only show me
The heartbreaks I have soothed
The times they wanted me to just listen
The men they have become
I am so proud of every one
They adore me
They laugh at my quirks
They walk by my side with pride
Because I walk by theirs
Feeling the same
They are beautiful in my eyes
And I tell them so every chance
I get
Never will they doubt my love.
I make sure of that!
CK Baker Aug 2017
the banners are blowing steady
(fully extended in the hot august wind)
contemporary in style
tightly trimmed
and all gloriously dressed
in the latest colors and hues
it’s a fleeting distraction though
as the caskets
and children
and grieving widows
are rolled steadily across
the burning tarmac

it’s the beginning
of that inevitable
two part proceeding
a skotoma for the ages
delusionary in nature
rich in grays
and eerily reminiscent
of that foreign reign
clipped in silence
with dark roots of fear
set deep in the bowels
of a chapter
of unimaginable sin

indifference as pronounced
as the accompanying salutes
haphazard sentiments that are
cloaked in the horror
of endless
aborted days
forgotten buggies
and bunkers
and rat packs
how could the switch
be set so wrong?


it’s truly an illusion
(this way of the world)
simple indulgence can grow
so beastly and consuming
try telling the tale to the
tibetan monks
or broad peak sherpas
(those boys know how to get it done!)
how to bask in
the ice cold waters
how to savor
the lava hot falls
couldn’t the others
have figured this one out?


the flags have settled
at half mass
and are tinted
in a charred yellow brown
the lifeless dreams
and inspirations now
in the rear view
leif running solo
(exempt of his trusted gunners)
ready for the numbered lines
his eyes open
to the ever changing
enemy at hand
Zoie Marie Lynn Oct 2017
I LIKE GIRLS I LIKE GIRLS I LIKE GIRLS
it sort of
spills from my tongue,
and makes up my lips.
because everything feels right when we're laying down in bed like this.
I LIKE GIRLS I LIKE GIRLS I LIKE GIRLS
it sort of
shakes in my bones,
and folds over and over inside my head.
because we're both in wedding dresses and i fall in love all over again.
I LIKE GIRLS I LIKE GIRLS I LIKE GIRLS
it sort of
smooths over my skin,
and makes an extra layer of love to drown in.
because this is my life and a girl makes it worth living in.
I LIKE GIRLS I LIKE GIRLS I LIKE GIRLS
i know i could have called her and i know i could be bolder but i'm thinking less and less
Lizzy Apr 2014
I've written about the wind
More than countless times.
I've always been so envious
Of it's freedom.
But now more than ever
The jealousy burns me

The air
How it moves and turns
It's free
And it can touch you.
It gets to brush those lips I miss,
And swirl around in your lungs.

It's ubiquitous limbs
Brush up against your arms
And weave between those fingers
it can hold your hands like I used to
it can do everything I can't.

but what I'm most covetous of
how it can watch you
and rest it's head against you
how it can twist in between the cracks in your smile.

the wind is my enemy
she is the temptress that mocks me
she laughs while I cry
because she lives in your lips
and you have no idea
The wind is a ****
Zoe Sue May 2014
I read him one of my poems
He complemented my mechanics
And although part of me laughed
Wondering how he heard me breathe the commas
Heard my spelling bee winner's letter placement
Still
The notion stuck
Steadfast
Push-pinned in my memory
In the neglected space where kind gestures live
I told him how I appreciated it
I should've told him
Boy no no
You don't understand
My mechanics need fixing
No not my grammar boy
I should've told him to volunteer
Sweet boy
I know hands are easier to work with than words
Touch me with both
Shhhh sweet boy
Fix me with your good nature
Let it wash over me
Wash away my grime
You needn't a good speaking voice
But a good intention
Warming arms
To thaw me
Couldn't hurt
But sweet boy
Too bad
We all grow sick of licorice
And I broke you
Like the mantelpiece momma told me not to play around
I broke you
For a less sweet boy
With a politician tongue
And words soaked in muddy motives
I broke you
Hardened you
Into a less sweet boy
With a polititia- err
Salesman tongue
And words soaked in muddy motives
I left you
Gone with the wind
You were the Rett
In the search for my Ashley
But he broke me
Like the soldiers countenance heading to combat
He left me
Wondering
Where all the sweet boys could have gone
Sarah Isma May 2018
Day by day you'd pass me by,
and at a time i'd think
it's a norm seeing you smile
I said hi but today
you replied with my name
For a second then,
i never realized that my heart would beat
a little bit faster than it usually did,
I never thought
How good it sounded coming from you
and i never realized
how everyday was like that after,
i'd be falling slowly,
a little bit deeper than i should be,
deeper in love with you
of course there is this boy, in which i think may become a series, where we met and i thought he was handsome but i thought id never get anywhere with him but as time goes by he started talking to me, and acknowledge me and until one day, he said my name, far from the crowd- just to make me say hi to him back. I feel like im starting to swim in dangerous waters now
Lizzy Jan 2015
Our mutual friend convinced me to spill my secrets to him. I had been holding back the truth because it seemed that every time I let its sour taste roll off my lips, I was once again left alone. But my therapist says I need to open up to people, to get rid of these “surface relationships”. So, for once in my life, I took the doctor’s orders.
I wasn’t planning for it to happen this way though. My mom dropped me off at his house and I opened the door to deafening Joy Division; (not that I minded but) I was taken by surprise. It went as usual to start, danced to some music and shared some cigarettes. Then we get talking about our writing, how blunt and honest mine is and how cryptic and nonsensical his is. So I read him my most recent words; he found them amusing but began asking questions. I answered as non-descriptively as possible. But then we began talking about the horrors he’s seen. He told me that he didn’t know if he could see more skeletons and blood. But I told him about mine anyway.
We moved to the porch so he could have his cigarettes. And I began to let my guard down. I told him about my ****** past and gory thoughts. I told him, with hesitation, that I was trying so hard but it’s a cycle. And finally, I stutteringly told him about my obsession with perfection. He knew I wasn’t normal but he didn’t know I forced myself to expel calories. He seemed un-phased and unimpressed. There was a brief silence before he said “What do you want from me?” What did I want?  I thought all I wanted was to tell him the truth and let him in but he had me second guessing. I did my best to answer the question how I thought he wanted.
He went on to tell me his drugs could help. I was already filled with prescribed and un-prescribed chemicals, but now he wanted me to add to the toxic brew flooding my veins. “I think dropping some good acid with some good people could change your perspective on things”. No ****. It would completely boil the poison that was already within me. I began to feel anger swell inside me, how could he suggest something so ******? What have I gotten myself into? I respectfully declined his offer and did my best to pretend he never said that.
When suddenly he sat down, looked me in the eyes (mine quickly shifted from his) and said “Ask me about David”. David? What did he have to do with any of this? What kind of reverse psychology ******* was he trying to pull? I complied and began to ask about the day’s events and about David as a person. But apparently these weren’t the right questions.
Eventually he drove me home. I hopped out of the car and so did he. (That’s a first.) As we hugged goodbye, I knew what was coming. I went to pull away but he pulled me closer. That’s when I was positive I was about to hear it. He gently let go and said,
“Lizzy, I think we have to take some time apart.”
“Why?”
“I just can’t do this right now.”
I pulled away from his hand and turned to walk inside before I punched him right in his oddly prominent jaw. Right before I opened the door I turned back to him one last time. His eyes looked sad and seemed to say “I’m sorry”. While I’m pretty sure mine said “*******.”
My hypothesis was confirmed. No one wants to hear the sob story. No one wants to be around the freak. I’m starting to think I really am better off with “surface relationships”.
Lizzy Aug 2014
Please don't go kissing someone else's lips
Because I've been dreaming of yours
Every chance I get
How they feel pressed against my neck
With your hands on my hips
I'm dying for that back

Please don't go have some mindless ***
Because my mind is burdened
With the picture of my sheets a mess
How we laid together
I felt so close to you

Just please please
Don't go find someone new
Ruzica Matic Jul 2017
pigeons still
wait for meals
by that bench
where Sun once grew
in tufts of gold

girls skipping classes
to window shop
their scarves wild
and their nails chipped

tough boys go out and smoke
and cough and dance
and act brave
and cut their hair
in the dark

and words of a new language
tumble down our tongues
head over heels
tasting strange
but falling into place
after all
Pixie Ellis Apr 2018
It was nice meeting you.

I bet you didn’t know you’re the first guy I ever tried to hit on. I bet you didn’t know I prepped for this conversation for a week. I bet you didn’t know how deep my heart sunk when I saw you go upstairs with another girl.

Thank you for being the first guy who’s ever flirted with me. Thank you for the pink gin. Thank you for the hand you placed on my back when you hugged me goodbye.

It was nice talking to you.

I know you falling on me was a move, even though you said it wasn’t. I know sitting and listening to the story of how I met J was a move. I know you like L. I know deep down she probably likes you too, I did.

It was nice that you didn’t message me after the party.

But I bet you didn’t know that I would of loved you with my whole heart. That I would of wrote you love letters and made you mixtapes of songs that reminded me of you. Thank you for making me realise that the right guy will come along, but that guy isn’t you. I know I’ll always be that girl at the party who’s name you can’t remember, or face you can’t place but I don’t lie.

It was nice meeting you.

I hope one day we’ll meet again.

— p.d.e
Lonerblues Jul 2018
He
His freckles were
scattered stars,
forming
          their own
                      constellation.
He
was my
very own
             temptation.
ADEOLUWAJOJU Dec 2018
Boys cry
But men think they shouldn’t
Girls cry
But women sob

Boys play
But men joke
Girls play
But women are serious

Boys are real
Among themselves
But men pretend
Girls pretend
Among themselves
But women fake it

Boys act like they know
But men aspire to become
Girls "wanna be"
But women aspire to be better

Boys like
Men fall in love
But men play with your feelings
Girls crush
Women love
But women love too hard

Boys love competition
But Men love power
Girls love Friendship
But Women love Class

Boys hate chores
But men can now cook
Girls love chores
But Women now do more than chores

Boys dream,
But men achieve
When boys lie, girls believe
But women are those that make the men
Women they make the will to bend

Boys are young can do no wrong
Men are calculated, they know what’s wrong
Girls are young they make heads turn
Women are smart could make kingdoms burn
Pixie Ellis Aug 2018
We spend one day together, in the park and now the sun reminds me of you.

It was 29 degrees and the sun still couldn’t match your brightness.
29 degrees and you were still the brightest star in my sky.  
I think back to my diary, when I told her we would forge a picnic from the empty living room and yet here we are.

The cream carpet, now green grass and my heart melts in your hands.
Sizzling air beats down on our pale skin as my heart beats a mile a minute.
Sometimes I like to play pretend.

Cast myself as the role of your love interest.
So during my game I was shocked.

When we step foot in your local corner store, when the cashier muttered a “you too, together”
I thought I’d alternated reality.

Or at least I did for that second and a half.
Before you fumbled over your words and tried to find the ones that would break my heart the least.
You settled on she’s out of my league, you joked about it once we’ve left.
Then I pretended again.

I cast myself as your laid back friend,
As the girl who has better things to think about then a cashier wrong assumptions.
Reality didn’t shift this time.

— p.d.e
another ****** love poem about a dumb boy
Mohamed Nasir Jul 2018
O rescue help the boys in dreadful cave.
Those adventurers could meet their demise
Unless in hour of crisis comes the brave;
But one by one emerge and none yet dies,
Unscathed though bruised from historic ordeals,
Escaped the jaws of death. Those left behind,
Our prayers they overcome their perils.
The tears flowing freely cruel minutes grind.
A strange surging water locking them in,
The force push them up to higher chambers.
Upon a mount waited; with anxious kin,
With families, monks believe still embers.
We salute rescuers' courage to save,
And one to God his precious life he gave.
This poem is to the boys and the coach of a football team trapped in a cave in Thailand. But thanks to the rescuers' most had been rescued and one of the rescuers died in this attempts to save the boys. Except a few left behind. Our hope they would be saved and hope all will go well.
Pixie Ellis Apr 2018
Dear Cute Boy At The Party,

It was nice meeting you. Again.

I bet you didn’t know you were the first person I ever flirted with. I bet you didn’t know I prepped for this date for a week. I bet you didn’t know how much my heart soared when you asked me out.

Thank you for telling me that I have a cute laugh. Thank you for telling me how much you wanted to see me again before I even left. Thank you for walking me back to the station.

It was nice talking to you.

I know when you complained about the chair, it was just an excuse to sit next to me. I know you want L to like you back. I know you deserve someone who treats you better.

It was nice that you finally messaged me, a week after the party.

But I bet you didn’t know how quickly I accepted the fact I’d never see you again. That I’ve already wrote you two poems and that I’m sat listening to the songs you recommended to me. Thank you for making me realise that the right guy will come along, but not right away. I thought I’d just be that girl at the party who’s name you can’t remember, or face you can’t place, but I was wrong.  

It was nice meeting you.

I‘m excited to see you again next week.

— p.d.e
I went out on a date with cute boy from the party, last night.
veritas Sep 2018
maybe it's there, in the crevice of his hard heart, that he heard the soft echo of light.

maybe, if the wound really is where the light enters you, it's in the heavy handed claps or in that gruff way men tell their sons, when it seems like the right thing to do, that they love them,

and then it's gone,

vanished into the cold nothingness, behind

rough hands and hearty laughter and the slow descending numbness of duty and honor and being a man.

it's faded, worn over, rusted old coppers,
until there comes along a boy who'll tuck the rough love away, who won't stand startled but rather perplexed,

who'll keep it boxed safe like pressed flowers between thin brown paper.

and then maybe, maybe that sweet boy will spread a few more, until his love is no longer a coarse and dying brittle sea air but nourishing, sustaining,

and maybe then he can start over.
8/22
em Jun 2015
Woven over every girls
heart
are the words,
*handle with care
especially those who are going to date my little sister ;p

ps the poetry slam went pretty well, i won :) i really liked the expierence, i was just so into reciting those words that i poured myself into that i just forgot what everyone might be thinking because in that moment i was bare, i was me in my truest form... it was cool to be able to be myself. spoken word is amazing if you have not tried to write like that i encourage you to. even if it never leaves your bedroom. the process will give you clarity.
Galatea Nov 2017
He stood a little over six feet tall, with eyes as sharp
As when glass etches its way through the thick skin of my soles
He was a pretty boy,  but cold, with a tongue that tasted as sweet
as the candy canes during christmas time

Did I love the pretty boy? I often wonder when I sit at night dragging at the roots of my thin hair
Crying over the time he crushed my pride with a few words,
sharp as daggers etching its way into my chemical receptors
Sending me into a state of ultimate desolation, of depression,
of pain I could never imagine I would have to suffer through
Pulling on my uniform at 5 am, forcing the smile on to my pale face, drained of life and blood that begun to bubble into my chest,
A pretty boy made me wish for death,
I can't seem to forget,
When I cried out in pleasure, clutching to his toned body, a foreign feeling to my inexperienced self that left me as stiff as rigor mortis
The pretty boy,

With eyes freezing akin to the ice that fell during the coldest winter,
words as sweet as roses with thorns,
etching its way between my thighs, tasting the little innocence I had left

The pretty boy,
Still lingers in the deepest part of my memories,
In such a short time, I let myself become enveloped into the arms of death
in the cloak of an angel,
The pretty boy,
I wished he had come back to me.
The pretty boy,
That doesnt think of me in bed with the woman he truly loves,
her voice, not mine
That captivates him at nighttime
The pretty boy,
mjad Apr 18
long dark hair
chocolate stare
tan soft skin
dripped in sin
tempting voice
i hate boys
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