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Wesley Wise Jun 2010
It is astonishing

how so much can be said

in so few words.
my "Red Wheel Barrow" poem
Breanna Hermann Mar 2013
i clench my fists and curl my toes and close my eyes and just smile at how cute you are. my stomach whirls thinking of you. i feel like i'm in elementary school again and i don't exist.
shaffu shafiq Jan 2016
Sleep sleep sleep.
I am going to sleep.
Like a bear or like a deer.
Without drink of bear.
Sleep sleep sleep.
I am going to sleep.
Just to see a dream.
Floating like a sea bream.
Catching one another.
Playing together.
But it is in sleep.
Sleep sleep sleep.
I am going to sleep.
In my mind your fancy.
Collecting thoughts in frequency.
With you I will walk.
And happily we will talk.
For that I will sleep.
Sleep sleep sleep.
I am going to sleep.
If you will be sad.
I feel bad.
Never hit you.
Never become mad.
To your rejoice.
I will become your choice.
Becoz we are also frnds so deep.
So I have to sleep.
Sleep sleep sleep.
I am going to sleep.
Your anger mood I can study.
Oh my love and my friend buddy.
I know I will persuade you.
It is confirmed and due.
You are my life I already it knew.
For you I will bring a lamb of sheep.
Whom you will feed.
Wipe your tears which will seep.
Never give you chance to weep.
So I need to sleep.
Sleep sleep sleep.
I am going to sleep.
Need you attention and heed.
When my peoms you will read.
Come in my dream with slow speed.
Now i want to sleep.
Sleep sleep sleep.
I am going to sleep.
Preparing myself here.
Oh my lovely dear.
When will you come?
I am always stand with a big warm welcome.
It is all truth not lies.
Now I have to close my eyes.
Dizzy and so tired.
May be I slip and gets down mired.
Blow off my lamp's light.
Good bye and good night.
Feeling faint and sleepy.
Now it is my time to sleep.
Sleep sleep sleep.
I am going to sleep.
GOOD NIGHT....
..
Bjarke Jun 2017
I write a lot of them
My mind thinks in bursts
So I'm sorry for the format
I bounce back and forth between sad happy and angry
I just want to document it while it's here
Crandall Branch Oct 2017
authors note
Hey Everyone! This is a little peom I made with one line from each of my peoms fused together. It's a little strange but I wanted to represent all of my work. I hope you like it!!! Crandall*





I feel safe with your power
You chomped me and swallowed me whole
you're pitch dark eyelashes, like pitch dark strings
your kindness, happiness, gorgeousity

corporations are evil
crandall's art was super great
our wurld is a mess

you whispered it in my ear as soft as a pillow that i have just fluffled by beating it
i hear your screeches as you sing along to katy perry's "swish swish"
towers of grape, rolling bouncing
my fingers would slide down it like a sheet of paper on a river of melted butter

paper-thin beetle wings,
fear
i love the little *****

eggs remind me of you
the next day i saw you your eye was the size of a glob of clove powder
Or an ant on a log
peoms

That was your licky number,
Don't be ashamed of your hobnobs.

I pear down and see its little legs trembing, shaking in death
the repriduction of the universe
howdy doo
darknes.
my princess, my darling, my murderer

the ocean, salty like my tears
My thoughts were running wild like snip snip
i  g u e s s  t h i s  i s  j u s t  a  c r u e l  w o r l d

i smell you
take the nuts
Your kneecaps
hope you like this strange peom i created!
please leave feedback and comments below! :)
Rexhep Morina Jan 2015
While trying to find my self,
I have lost my self,
In depths unreachable,
In darkness invisible.

Breaking the social constructs that I am built in,
A war cry echoed through time and space,
Infinite possibilities unfold in front of my destiny,
A destiny worth a thousand peoms.

Still searching,
Still seeking,
Still looking for that which is me,
A soul confined in a human shell.

Eager to see that which is not visible,
to feel that which is unspeakable,
A sudden awe surrounds my mortal form,
Liberation, freedom.

A unique feel of bliss,
the hand of god has reached for that which is within me,
Awakened I am to the purest form that I be.

Pain, guilt, sorrow and fear,
are vanquished in the blink of an eye,
The heavens await me, as I sail through the vast oceans of infinity.
In order for one self to truly find it self, one must first lose it self.
jay wilson Nov 2012
You are young and beautiful.
You date people who are older and not wise.
You are not a prize but something more special .
You try to impress the person you are dating.
Because you are young you don't know that they should impress you instead.
You're perfect just the way you are.
I wish you could be my lady so I could impress you and try as much as I can to make sure you wouldn't leave me.
Grace is a beautiful name you match it perfectly.
Grace you act like you're in space sometimes but I don't know why.
I hope you atleast read one of my peoms about you.
Amanda Francis Sep 2019
I don't know how to write poetry like I don't know how to kiss you.

Our lips touch, my heart races, but my hands don't know how closely I am able to hold on to you.

If I could write poems I'd tell you how holding you close feels like finding a life jacket when you're lost at sea.

I'd tell you how your smile is the safest place I have ever known. That I've decorated the walls of my heart with your memories so I have somewhere to call home.

But I can't.

When you're around my body becomes a garden.

Butterflies dance around wildly in my stomach, through a meadow of delusion.

Vines grow and twist around my heart, in the same way that they make old ruins beautiful.

My tongue is paradise.

A thousand blooms unfurling in your sunlight, a bed of velvet soft petals with the sweetest nectar you're only too happy to devour.

You gorge away on the sweetest fruits, th nectar, you take your cuttings for ornaments. And when youre done you leave.

Darkness follows in your wake, my eyes become waterfalls, washing any colour that remained until there is only grey.

I can't kiss you. Because I know that afterwards there is a storm without parallel. I know resting my hand on your skin is no longer a silent I love you. More like a moth flying to close to the flame.

And I can't write a poem, because when you leave me, there is nothing left...
Lyan Cordova Aug 2014
I’m exhausted and I feel like ignorning all my teachers to read some poetry and write endless peoms.
Id also enjoy the company of a loving female.

King gentle love would do my aching body and mind some good.
The type of love that leaves their boyfriends extremely jealous and wanting to come up to me (but I’ll explain to them that their girl is a perfect woman and that I did them a favor because they wouldn’t have had stayed faithful to them anyways)

The smell of her sweet perfume
And the touch of her soft gentle skin

While she lays with me while she listens to me ramble about whatever decides to craw into my mind, wether she cares or not.

It wouldn’t even have had been bothered with the half wood and minor headache she’d give me after she left.
Noah H Aug 2016
I used to keep a suicide note in my wallet in case I ever found a building with a view beautiful enough to be my last.
It was a hastily written apology for never being who everyone thought I could be.
It between the faded blue lines, gentle wishes kissed the page, hoping someday someone would see them and they would come true. The middle paragraph carved a hollow spot in my chest as I wrote it.

"My friends. I am sorry. I know you'll never really understand. I hope that you all can forgive me for meeting you in the first place. I love you and I'm sorry I can never truly express it, I know I have class but it feels okay that I can finally be free of them, and you can be free of me."

The words were smudged with bits of alcohol that had dripped from the bottles mouth when I pulled it from mine.
God how I couldn't wait for it all to end.

Then, I met you. I wrote poem after poem hoping youd get the hint. You were my building, my end. Your eyes, the final sky id see, your smile, my last sunset.

I took one of the peoms from my drawer, the first line reads,
       "Her eyes, the forest. The greenest life that could ever grow."
Olliver Jan 2018
famous poems are not personal
famous poems are general
famous poems apply to everyone and make so much sence it hurts
famous peoms are famous because they are presented and taken by everyone
personal poems are not famous
personal poems do not make sence
personal poems do not get famous

O.N.
+
Crandall Branch Oct 2017
oxygen
molecules
h20
o2
co2
its overwhelming sometimes
how things can combine
to make new things

chemistry
biology
aquatic biology
its overwhelming sometimes
how when you think about new things, you have questions
and those questions turn into answers
that only leave you with more questions

books
magazines
newspapers
peoms
its overwhelming sometimes
that the written word, a beautiful method of self-expression
has been corrupted
by Them

The ones that manipulate
that scorch
that ravage the land

we must stand up
we must fight
and only then
can we be free
can we be underwhelmed
we will be strong
with everyone fighting
forming a human wall

we will be stronk.
please comment and feedback below! thanks :)
Badonko Aug 2016
The poets are different, peoms the same
How long the power to give them fame?
People read it and let it behind
For mortal is the mind

See a drunkard who dance
Has the blissfullest glance

So sing, dance and  give
True religion is to live!
Badonko Jul 2016
Just started to write
Hope it rhymes

English is still cool thou
Caus yo get to write things like bruh


Step by step you get ahead
But there is no way
We are already perfect
No purpose to convey


The poets are different, peoms the same
How long the power to give them fame?
People read it and let it behind
For mortal is the mind

See a drunkard who dance
Has the blissfullest glance

So sing, dance and  give!
True religion is to live!
King Tutankhamun Jul 2017
I got plenty of ammo
Sound the piano
And watch how sick
My flow goes grows
On your mental leaving dimples but no ricochet
Straight shots to your dome
Spiritually
Ya see me movin' swiftly
Buzzin' like a bee
Key
My melody who soundin better than me
Poetry feelin' lovely
None above me
Shoot hard as ya want
And watch these lyrics come to taunt
You hunt you
Like a ghost sayin' boo
Through and through
I write til I reach definitive
Only took a diminutive
Intuitive as they come
Line em up hurry up
Only end up
in a run
Home when the bases loaded
Lyricals like a grenade soon exploded
Branding emcees with ease please
I write rhymes that
Tease
Your subconscious bump out nonsense
Hearts immense once the flows
Felt ya souls commence
Into body rocking like shocking
Lyrical thunderbolt straight from my vault
And they ask me how I do em
And I responded
I let the Poems Hit em


Flows like an ocean took a sip of the potion
Lyrically from the universe
Telepathic its graphic
From verse to verse
Without a rehearse or the need to curse
I go all around ya
Like a circle
Spinnin' rhymes so vicious
On the mic
Turning other emcees purple
Cuz im tooo hot to trot
And who Got?
My steez geez I'm ticked like a flea
Who tries to get with me instantly
Meet your opponent
Lyrics I'm on it
Show me a path n I'll clear it
Cookin' rhymes in a *** and got
Ya girl rubbing calling me
Mr **** MC of the century
Executioner take no prisoners  
Yeah I did it but most wont admit it
Turn flaws into flawless
Bring life out a carcass
Light into darkness
Once I manifest
The test none could do it better
I'm DOC rhymes funky
Enough tough call out any bluff
Don't get upset with me
Just jealousy cuz rhythm take em
Viciously
Rhymes is in tandem with the universe
Then I hands em
Beat downs fall to ground
Cuz mental capacity collapse
And it had to be
Me servin' em once they send em
Fail greatly cuz the Poems Hit 'em


Flows racketeering strong and engineering
From controlling the game
As I'm steering
These lyrics To another direction
Causing mental *******
N0 rejections make a selection
For the beat Once my rhymes meet
Put it sleep til it starts reap
Or better yet snore
Cuz these peoms you adore
Fourscore and I'll still be
On the soar rigorous wars
Who ever wanna step on
The battlefield better have yo shield
Cuz the potency is real
No defense could penetrate
Flows movin' like the sounds of 38
Soon to radiate
Cuz the heat took em shook em
Into a shock
Popped locked the mind slow grind
Now my flows in repetition
Of a rewind battles decline
So don't step outta line
Cuz there's plenty of rounds
For the gun line as I shine
Ya should have known how I did em
Mentally exhausted
Cuz of the rhythm
When you write poems upon peoms,
And there is someone centered at each one,

They are rarely someone that you do not love
Beda Flores Apr 2018
" The key to my heart
you may have
if you answer this riddle
you know who you are
the person i set eyes on
i know you read my poems
i know you write peoms
you may not have an account
but all my poems are public
we see each other every day
if you know the answer to my riddle
than you have the key to my heart "
Angel Jan 18
To all who leave comments on my poems and inbox, please don't anymore. Some of these peoms don't belong to me... The only reason why they are here is because I was given permission to use them. These people who gave me permission to use their poems don't have accounts on here. So please don't leave comments on the poems or in my inbox anymore. They asked me to let you all know that they don't want comments on their poems. But please, still like and repost. They are okay with that. Thank you so much,
Angelique_Marie672
Safe May 24
You told me I had to hide my emotions,
Put them in boxes, and hide them,
Somewhere so far and so dark,
So I can never reach them.
And I told you that it was not my thing.
I forgot to tell you my thing was to hide behind my metaphors
And never feel my feelings unless it's on pages,
Never know how strong they're until they're read out loud;
And never confess them until I'm with my notebooks.
I forgot that I have always hid behind my metaphors and my peoms;
My words had always been so strong they were already fighting reality,
And I never had to run,
Never had to leave,
Never had to feel fear,
Because I knew I was never alone.
My fists were never good at fighting,
But I knew how to turn my anger into fists,
And make my stress suffer more than my stomach.
I knew how to make anxiety feel anxious,
And how to make butterflies feel human.
I knew things I didn't know I know,
Until I reached for my pen and my notebook and wrote them down.
I knew things I could never tell you about,
Because you'd ask how and why,
And maybe at that time I'll question myself too,
All the questions I could never answer.
Maybe at that time I'll question myself too,
And start questioning my metaphors and poems' existance, and my own too.
Yes we make the pen smile in hope
We spread our thoughts on the river banks
For tourists to see and appreciate
Words were our toys and our teddy.

Our expressions is our poems
The light is the poet who shed it
Farming no we not peoms hung there
We sleep not without a drop of ink.

This is who we are:
The messager of feeling and good or bad
We are the new commer
Coming to you every now and then.

— The End —