Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Val Vik Oct 2015
My mind is made of philosophy
and heart filled with soul
In my body dwells individuality
We are one in the whole

From subconsciousness comes art
My eyes persuade the beauty
and in love there's always light
Life's divine, eternal unity
"What kind of poetry I write?
is any kind that comes to mind,
and pumped from the heart."

Christian Ek May 2014
Give me half of what you love.
What you let yourself be devoured by.
Spanish romance, drunken cantinas, Men cry.
Persuade the un-driven only through sacrifice.
The Vices the heart speaks are your impulsive desires.
Light my fire, Light my ******* fire because it's in dire need of an aspire.
By Christian Ek
jane taylor May 2016
towering gently overflowing with heightened awareness
subtle hints of blade’s keen glittering chiseled edges
untamed rugged surface powerfully averts gale’s acrid tempest
vigor pulsating that doth persuade the cloud’s reflections
if i shall not again embrace a meager glimpse; a demure echo
of thine towering mounts my soul shall ever suffer

my spirit soars with e'er one glance of thine majestic presence
replete with reminiscence seasons stir and beg thine tender mercies
to house the changing leaves at dusk of autumn’s auburn portraits
and give birth to crystal snow cascading peripherally in winter
which melding into spring then begs thy bluffs to cover
in soft amethyst of columbine blossoming first light of summer

‘tis not paramount to scale high aloft thine peaks in escalation
for small sheer glances stamp forever with imperial impressions
and ‘tho i’ve traveled ‘round and savored nature’s varied essence
none can compare thine evergreens laced in aspens nuance
my breath is gone and shan’t return ‘til in thy shadow casting
i stand and look upon thine hallowed face the rocky mountains

©2016 janetaylor
Melissa S Feb 2017
Master Manipulator
Parading around with all his strings
Trying to control
Use her to carry out his way of things
Why does everything always
have to be on his terms
Why does she even listen to  
all his mean and careless words
She is a real person
not just a puppet for his life
Now on to him and his ways
She finally sees the real him and understands
and is why she now carries scissors
in her hand :)
Traveler Jul 27
I took a little trip
To the ward
The other day
Down through
The crazy maze
The cheese trying
To persuade
So I simply explained
I am just a Poet
A little out of faze
They prescribed
Me Prozac
And sent me on my way!

Other people's hell's are worst then mine,
I just get lost here and there, in and out of time.
Traveler Tim
Andrew Rueter Jul 2017
I started on the rooftop
The empty sky above was all I had
And all I needed
It was pure
Like a blank page
Waiting for a story to be written
But at the first sight of clouds
I fled to the top floor

There were fun and simple things on the top floor
Like Pokémon games
I got red, white, and blue
The monsters seemed so banal and repetitive
But nobody else would acknowledge it
Sending me into a dragon's rage
I tried using flamethrower on Charmander
Ending in futility as I ran out of burn heals
I looked out the window in frustration
Rain was falling outside
Patriotism was buffeted by the hail
So I devolved into a lower level

Going further down this building
For ***** and giggles
I found more ****
Less giggles
On a floor with a TV displaying the news
I was eager to learn about the world
Only to learn everybody hates each other
And nobody talks
Or cares
And the smartest person in the room
Is the one I agree with the most
Unable to view the tokens in my mind
As anything less than treasure
And those who try to persuade me otherwise
Are thieves
My spite steals tranquility
Like the persistent storm outside
My solution is shelter in lower levels

My experimentation on communication
With the general population
Had rained on my playful parade
But I felt very comfortable on a floor with friends
Until they saw through my charade
Discovering my emotions in disarray
As the people who made me love this building
Made me curse it's walls the more I loved them
I searched for the peaceful embrace of solitude
Once the storm outside transformed into a typhoon

I found that solitude
In a tiny bare room
With a syringe and spoon
I was unaware
That room was an elevator
That lowered me down the concrete void
As the hurricane outside rattled me violently inside my box
Trapped and lacking all agency
I resigned myself to wherever the elevator chose to take me

After the elevator finished pulling me into the basement
The tsunami seemed to cease
But I was buried under debris
I had to burrow out of my tomb
The dig was tedious and *****
My perseverance was heroic
But triumph was thwarted
When I reached the surface
To discover only wreckage remained
And when I looked up
I saw the building I inhabited
It's damaged facade
Made it clear
I would never visit those floors I missed on the elevator

Above my building
Hangs an empty sky
It's purity is a lie
The page was never blank
Just constantly written on and erased
To lure innocent readers into a tome
Mandalina Oct 2018
I am so very alone and I can't cope with it.
I'm isolated from the world in a place I know nothing about and it's making me insane.
I need someone before I call it quits.
I really thought I could handle it all.
I really did.
But, I always seem to forget how weak I actually am
and how easy it is to relapse.
Being alone is terrifying.
I am terrified of myself and my thoughts.
They always sneak up on me during the night and try to persuade me into falling back
and I’m not sure I can resist it anymore.

Nigdaw Jul 13
Barbed silk strands, like
Deadly Ghent lace, spun
To support an ugly
Bulbous body, poised
Demonic deformed hand
Somehow camouflaged
With ninja stillness,
Unseen in plain sight

I carry my son
Past this unwalled prison,
Where new inmates wait
To be sentenced, death
By misadventure
It’s beauty beckons
Shimmering like fire,
Belying murderous intention

His hand reaches out
Wanting to touch, explore
I cannot persuade
His eyes to see, anything
But beauty, mystery
Anymore than I
Can warn the spiders
Next prey to beware.
Marcos Saldana Jun 2018
Marigolds in bright oranges and reds;
The dead lay below soft flower beds.
What will happen if I reach too far,
Knowing I can't keep those who have crossed the bar?
The days seem vague and bleak,
Will my sins persuade and leave me meek?

What will happen if I cross the ocean,
And not care about the ripples set in motion?
Will my loved ones soon depart,
Only those younger to inherent their art?
My prayers are motionless and repetitive.
My plead is to my Pilot to keep me in the narrative.

For oft when I lie in bed,
The Negative and Dreadful fill my head.
"Forgive our debts as we forgive our debtors,"
Is all my prayers are; it is the setter.
Lead me through temptation and give me a honey tongue,
To give it my all for the distance run.

Knowing that the Daffodils prance,
Throwing their heads in sprightly and cheerful dance,
Be still, sad heart! And cease your grieving!
For all through one's life loved ones must do the leaving.
For two roads diverge in a yellow wood,
And a good idea is to keep attached what is under your hood.
This poem was inspired by the works of other poets like: Robert Frost ("The Road Not Taken"), Alfred Lord Tennyson ("Crossing The Bar"), William Wordsworth ("The Daffodils"), and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow ("The Rainy Day").
The title of the poem, "Cargill," was the name of my English teacher during my sophomore year in highschool.
Zara rain Aug 2018
Did you whisper a prayer before the roar of the inevitable end?
Should we have listened harder,
held you closer,
and tried so very much more
to persuade your troubled mind
not to let go?

I don't know.

You, in all your lightness
held me so convincingly
in oblivion of your parched spirit.
Too many years of despair, I reckon.
And too little human affinity found.

I will never know, what drove your final decision to meet the vast unknown.
It's terrifying me to think
that you felt that was the only choice.
But even if I grieve that you will never
light up the world with your dazzling smile,
gentle touch,
or kindness anymore.
I see you for the brave and wondrous creature that you are.
Brave to live so far.
And brave to end it.

Nothing grows now,
the dry spell hit this summer hard.
And yet...
The gentle fragrance of all blossoms
linger in the air ever since you took your leave.
Dear angels in the heavens... you have a new sister now. Be kind to her, love her and hold her so hard that she will never again feel lacking.
Diana Feb 11
Passionately kiss a beautiful stranger
Dance with someone special in the rain
With the headlights of a car
Be the only source of light
And the music from the stereo
Persuade our unsynchronized movements
Try an extremely overpriced fruity cocktail
In a luxurious bar
Sit down at an occupied table
That has a random person
Introduce myself and
Play a speed round of 20 questions
Exploring the idea
Of creating a false reality to someone
Who would accept it
Because they expect nothing less
Add on!!
Next page