Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"submissions" poems
kissing you was like swerving into oncoming traffic i can never tell if i am more haunted by empty picture frames or the ashes of their contents you taught me that the saying "pick your battles" meant not answering when love was at the door sometimes when i drink whiskey i swear i can hear your voice in the creases of my bedsheets & i sleep on the floor i still catch myself running my hands over things you touched the most, looking for the echoes of your fingertips i practice things i'll never say to you i remember the day you told me you didn't like poetry, how "everything's already been said" & how "nothing meaningful can be captured without being cliche" you know, i don't miss you like the sun and moon, i do not miss you like tide bent waves crashing on the shoreline, i miss you like a chernobyl  swingset misses children rumor has it that drowning is a lot like coming home, that drinking bleach can **** the butterflies in your stomach for your love of cigarettes, i would have been an ashtray this halloween i want to dress up as the you when you loved yourself and show up on your doorstep i never understood what you meant when you said i was an instrument, back when you would cup your hands around my chest and breathe through the holes in my heart, i still wonder if the sounds i made remind you of wind chimes i never paid much attention to abandoned buildings until i became one in my dreams all the flowers smell like your perfume i am the only person who has ever wished for the same snowflake to fall twice if i could go back, and rewrite the definition of audacity, it would be how when we lost the bet of love, you said "we never shook on it" i love you, if the feeling is not mutual, please pretend this was a poem the only apology i want from you, is to have you repeat the names of children we will never have in your parents living room until they ***** we are the same person if you find yourself up at 4am dry heaving promises, or if you are kept awake by the laughter of those who've abandoned you nobody ever told you that goodbyes taste like the back of stamps sometimes i'm convinced that the only reason we hug, is so you can check my back for exit wounds
0
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 11:08 PM UTC
submissions to post secret
kissing you was like swerving into oncoming traffic i can never tell if i am more haunted by empty picture frames or the ashes of their contents you taught me that the saying "pick your battles" meant not answering when love was at the door sometimes when i drink whiskey i swear i can hear your voice in the creases of my bedsheets & i sleep on the floor i still catch myself running my hands over things you touched the most, looking for the echoes of your fingertips i practice things i'll never say to you i remember the day you told me you didn't like poetry, how "everything's already been said" & how "nothing meaningful can be captured without being cliche" you know, i don't miss you like the sun and moon, i do not miss you like tide bent waves crashing on the shoreline, i miss you like a chernobyl  swingset misses children rumor has it that drowning is a lot like coming home, that drinking bleach can **** the butterflies in your stomach for your love of cigarettes, i would have been an ashtray this halloween i want to dress up as the you when you loved yourself and show up on your doorstep i never understood what you meant when you said i was an instrument, back when you would cup your hands around my chest and breathe through the holes in my heart, i still wonder if the sounds i made remind you of wind chimes i never paid much attention to abandoned buildings until i became one in my dreams all the flowers smell like your perfume i am the only person who has ever wished for the same snowflake to fall twice if i could go back, and rewrite the definition of audacity, it would be how when we lost the bet of love, you said "we never shook on it" i love you, if the feeling is not mutual, please pretend this was a poem the only apology i want from you, is to have you repeat the names of children we will never have in your parents living room until they ***** we are the same person if you find yourself up at 4am dry heaving promises, or if you are kept awake by the laughter of those who've abandoned you nobody ever told you that goodbyes taste like the back of stamps sometimes i'm convinced that the only reason we hug, is so you can check my back for exit wounds
Continue reading...
20
There’s a time and season for every reason no cookie bakes itself cherries don’t burst on their own cherries don’t burst ************ a bottle doesn’t empty itself to full/fill breaking clocks is a wonderful way to **** time ironic glory hole of blood and glass running out of test tubes, the ***** too tight **** reason! INVEST! Admiration is the state furthest away from understanding pawns don’t need details ******** with teeth make ******** meaningful smashing the cow softens it, …digest it well meaning is derived from screening STD g string of a starry eyed ******** that drowns in a sea of ****** obtuse and absolute are the only submissions failure to comprehend results in *********** cuckolds worth…. IMPROVE! Lexicon laxative this antipathy won’t last stimulate thinking with cankerous drinking ***** ***** need no season or reason to drown ****** who never show the tears of heaven that understood misled admiration and adolescent aberration that silently candle deplorable fornication time stays unchanged counting doesn’t prove progress in this game falling short… half beat hesitation ITERATE!
0
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 5:10 AM UTC
Intermittent
I posted this poem  a few days after I joined HP.  As  is oft the case, poems you are especially proud of, fall to the wayside, under the onslaught of the constant waterfall of new submissions.  With the usual exception of Ms. Lori C., one of the two unofficial High Priestesses of HP, in my estimation, this one, was pretty much overlooked.  Despite some comical jaunts of late re bras and beds, real inspiration has escaped me ever nice I penned "Sittin' On The Dock Of The Bay (Razor Blades, Pills, & Shotguns" last week.  So, with your hoped for solicitude, I resubmit it, hoping it finds a wider audience and dedicate it to those of you who I number as friends (you know who you are!), despite the fact that our only shared embraces have been techno~electronic, and yet the quality of your kindness is beyond measure. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Numerical Quality of Friendship The quality of friendship is non-quantitative. Yet, I ask you to number it, and me, this way. With tape measure, determine that: The length of my arm's embrace will always be longer than long enough, and when distance magnifies sorrow's gains, my shoulders measure wide enough to pillow your wearied head. The depth of my pocket is finite for by definition, a pocket is but an open doored, three walled shelter. My pocket of shelter is forever open, forever deep, and forever is infinite. Trust that when bowed and bent, upon my shoulders climb and together we will be tall enough to touch the season's new fruit upon the tree of life, and with one tongue, taste the unimaginable! Do u think that mercury can measure the warmth of my tears when love sears my heart, or the heat of thy skin when it heals and cauterizes wounds salted by the mistreatment, by the bitters of the weak ones, who rejoice when they scald others? Size me up. What is my volume? What are the boundaries that length X depth X height state must limit my capacity to cherish, to heal, and even to forgive those who deserve no forgiveness? If you measure me well and proper, if I meet the standards that qualify me to be called friend, then friend me here, friend me now, friend me for the qualities I posses, and number us a unity among the few who are truly blessed by a quality of friendship that cannot be measured, for there is no scientific instrument that can quantify limitless. March 2012
0
Aug 10, 2013
Aug 10, 2013 at 3:21 PM UTC
Resubmitting For Your Consideration: The Numerical Quality of Friendship
I posted this poem  a few days after I joined HP.  As  is oft the case, poems you are especially proud of, fall to the wayside, under the onslaught of the constant waterfall of new submissions.  With the usual exception of Ms. Lori C., one of the two unofficial High Priestesses of HP, in my estimation, this one, was pretty much overlooked.  Despite some comical jaunts of late re bras and beds, real inspiration has escaped me ever nice I penned "Sittin' On The Dock Of The Bay (Razor Blades, Pills, & Shotguns" last week.  So, with your hoped for solicitude, I resubmit it, hoping it finds a wider audience and dedicate it to those of you who I number as friends (you know who you are!), despite the fact that our only shared embraces have been techno~electronic, and yet the quality of your kindness is beyond measure. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Numerical Quality of Friendship The quality of friendship is non-quantitative. Yet, I ask you to number it, and me, this way. With tape measure, determine that: The length of my arm's embrace will always be longer than long enough, and when distance magnifies sorrow's gains, my shoulders measure wide enough to pillow your wearied head. The depth of my pocket is finite for by definition, a pocket is but an open doored, three walled shelter. My pocket of shelter is forever open, forever deep, and forever is infinite. Trust that when bowed and bent, upon my shoulders climb and together we will be tall enough to touch the season's new fruit upon the tree of life, and with one tongue, taste the unimaginable! Do u think that mercury can measure the warmth of my tears when love sears my heart, or the heat of thy skin when it heals and cauterizes wounds salted by the mistreatment, by the bitters of the weak ones, who rejoice when they scald others? Size me up. What is my volume? What are the boundaries that length X depth X height state must limit my capacity to cherish, to heal, and even to forgive those who deserve no forgiveness? If you measure me well and proper, if I meet the standards that qualify me to be called friend, then friend me here, friend me now, friend me for the qualities I posses, and number us a unity among the few who are truly blessed by a quality of friendship that cannot be measured, for there is no scientific instrument that can quantify limitless. March 2012
Continue reading...
38
I’m the worst **** in the world No one is worse than me. For my next bride, I shall marry the Queen of She Ba (Academy presents her majesty. Nominee gushes. Audience applauds exhaustively.) She will manhandle me, Liquor on her breath, Feathers framing ****** Inflamed blossoms drenching submissions She told me to delete The photographs, Even though there were many Caught her beauty in amazing graces. She hated me For putting up so little struggle, Obliterating her splendor Indifferently. I wanted to prove Deserving of her love. she dilly-dallied, distracted. I cried pitifully, “Where’s my girlfriend?” Chain of events to nothingness My desolate existence One deficit after another Honed to fragile cutting-edge. I wanted her to pleasure me With subtle painful tinge. She brilliantly found fault Every conceivable way to blame. She accused, “you fiddle in noodle factory.” She was the true artist, Dissatisfied with the sound Of my heart beating. You want to play hardball with the big boys? You better show up with bulging intelligent creativity. You complain about Every infinitesimal gargantuan thing. Nothing makes you happy. I will always love you no Matter how impossible. Looking back, You were an impossible chance.
0
Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 10:28 AM UTC
Striving For Perfection ***** Up Everything
they said he should submit this make submissions and do readings this is the way it’s been done for many years but he didn’t really want to a couple of rejections left him weary and he’s a writer not a performer the contests say “all styles and subjects” but surely they have criteria not this one not this one this one the all inclusiveness is a lie the judges know what they want he wished they’d be up front and specific but it’s all about the entry fee they pretend to be seeders offering everyone a chance to grow and bloom but they’re actually weeders quickly quashing poems rubber stamped with doom they never really stood a chance because it’s all about the entry fee “Don’t self publish”, they said “You’ll regret it” he did the design and layout anyway “Can ‘we’ make changes to the cover?” who the hell is “we”? this is his book? sure he wanted sales that’s what publishing is about but sink or swim he wanted his book, his way especially his first book and he’s a stubborn ******* the internet is accommodating this IT age makes it easier the process has been long with glitches and obstacles doubt and procrastination but the would be destination was worthy available at amazon
0
Mar 2, 2013
Mar 2, 2013 at 8:47 PM UTC
A SHAMELESS PLUG
members you'll note a new event on the club's blueprint which was so cleverly devised by the committee's mint all entries are to be marked I really crave popularity so ensure you write this in letters of clearest clarity the most original piece shall garner the prized first place those that are too ho-hum won't receive any grace the council of jury want to see compositions stating look at only me they should have a bragging tag with the lionization of unique flag it's time to get your submissions in as the competition is there to win
0
Nov 25, 2016
Nov 25, 2016 at 5:10 PM UTC
There To Win
meeting you was drowning without water, i didn’t know i was already dead my body was stronger before my tongue tasted your name and kissing you was like cliff diving to meet cement your fingerprints left bruises without a warranty, i can no longer find my skin somewhere between lost and found, your hands are ghosts around my throat i choke on my own steps you stain the bathroom tile like i’ve had too much to drink loving you was like eating a cereal box of sea glass, and still searching for the prize at the bottom my fingertips bleed broken promises sometimes i sleep on the couch to avoid the absence of your shadow in my sheets my sheets still ask about you so do my parents i rehearse words you’ll never hear my insecurities crawl out of your one-word responses and tell me i’m not worth more for your love of multiples, i could have been anyone your hands carry the baggage of “ew she’s my best friend” i’ve lost count of all the ‘shes’ you were not searching for my heartbeat when your hands groped my chest i’ve had trouble finding my pulse lately i need a receipt for our memories but they’re stuck to me like a shirt i can’t get over my shoulders i can’t get over your smile – the way the corners curled like bare willow branches dancing in the wind to our song it was running your parseltongue through my veins, and i’d run out the high for days i think i’m still running, but my feet are stuck in the same **** city we met your face is plastered post-it notes on all the places we had our firsts as if i need reminders you used to look in my eyes and mean it i visit museums to remind myself beautiful things have history too no one ever tells you that goodbye tastes like empty air, tastes like looking in the mirror and not being able to swallow yourself i bear the scars of your touch, poetry scratched into my skin like tattoos i remember the first time you hit me your palm crashed my cheek like a chance seismic stamp and i liked it you told me, “run while you can i’m dangerous,” but i stuck around to be buried in the dirt of the grave you dug me with “hello” sometimes i’m convinced we only hug so you can check my hands for a shovel
0
Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 1:09 PM UTC
submissions for our memoir
meeting you was drowning without water, i didn’t know i was already dead my body was stronger before my tongue tasted your name and kissing you was like cliff diving to meet cement your fingerprints left bruises without a warranty, i can no longer find my skin somewhere between lost and found, your hands are ghosts around my throat i choke on my own steps you stain the bathroom tile like i’ve had too much to drink loving you was like eating a cereal box of sea glass, and still searching for the prize at the bottom my fingertips bleed broken promises sometimes i sleep on the couch to avoid the absence of your shadow in my sheets my sheets still ask about you so do my parents i rehearse words you’ll never hear my insecurities crawl out of your one-word responses and tell me i’m not worth more for your love of multiples, i could have been anyone your hands carry the baggage of “ew she’s my best friend” i’ve lost count of all the ‘shes’ you were not searching for my heartbeat when your hands groped my chest i’ve had trouble finding my pulse lately i need a receipt for our memories but they’re stuck to me like a shirt i can’t get over my shoulders i can’t get over your smile – the way the corners curled like bare willow branches dancing in the wind to our song it was running your parseltongue through my veins, and i’d run out the high for days i think i’m still running, but my feet are stuck in the same **** city we met your face is plastered post-it notes on all the places we had our firsts as if i need reminders you used to look in my eyes and mean it i visit museums to remind myself beautiful things have history too no one ever tells you that goodbye tastes like empty air, tastes like looking in the mirror and not being able to swallow yourself i bear the scars of your touch, poetry scratched into my skin like tattoos i remember the first time you hit me your palm crashed my cheek like a chance seismic stamp and i liked it you told me, “run while you can i’m dangerous,” but i stuck around to be buried in the dirt of the grave you dug me with “hello” sometimes i’m convinced we only hug so you can check my hands for a shovel
Continue reading...
33
I meditate upon shore of thoughts; washing over my countenance, caressing my soul. as he forms verses in syllabic count, fore, his voice ebbs in tidal waves, teasing with submissions of cognitive chains of thought; where bated breath pounds against my peninsula open to laps in hunger, tasting passions complaisancy; each rush, mouthed in a sauntering flow; touched in currents of his thoughts; I absorb bittersweet brine as there's no lack of verbiage, threatening consumption of uttered articles of enticement like driftwood floating; his words glide as tides drag mind, to and fro with each affluxion, I acquaint thoughts in odes his sung ballads brush against me like seaward breezes and I consume his melody in swelled seas of delicacy in harmony and bouyancy of song; I surrender within his thoughts, relishing serenity; upon his island of passion, wrapped within his poetry in thought
0
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 12:49 PM UTC
Drenched In Thought
Shepard in a field, crucified upon  a wooden fence Your grieving flock was scattered worldly Liberty's book was swiftly plunged into the blood of bigotry Fascism laughed in tones of red, white and blue Land where our fathers died Land where our bigots hide I say to you Amen... I love Jesus; you must too resounded these hollow words Hate is now the doctrine intertwined morph-boiled into fear and hate, being poured over enlightenment in destruction of green lands engulfing youthful sprouts in destructive steamy waters The book of Leviticus is the demise of reason fractured from critical thinking; allocated to the current pulped-swine, swaying in hypnosis listeners of these pulpit-swine-beasts; they embark with twisted trepidation's disdain Shepard in other fields of life into brute submissions you will succumb being baptised in your own red pools, being smitten by the pulpit-swine-listners of ancient prophets The dirge, the slow dirge is heard throughout our delicate land Ooh sweet brilliant Oscar, we still suffer as you had my brilliant Irish lad I love Jesus you must too My country tis not for me sweet land of bigotry to thee I sing, to thee I sing...
0
Sep 4, 2014
Sep 4, 2014 at 6:57 PM UTC
A Shepherd's Plea
Standing tall take on all challenges Ready to over come this opponent The next obstacle so I can achieve greatness Take this test win be the best and better Every punch you comeback for me They try to trap you on the mat you escape Give them your all and some more The body weak and sore but loves every minute on the mats They throw a punch you come back with power Refuse to lose or stay down never quit Choke outs submissions regardless of pain never give in escape to survive Gain a win to stay alive
0
Jan 15, 2014
Jan 15, 2014 at 12:23 AM UTC
fight
Hey Fragments! a Haiku Contest!! Spring is everywhere. We want everyone to contribute to the first, "Quarterly Season Greetings Haiku Contest!" We will select a panel of judges, who will send me their three favorite haiku submissions. The haiku with the most selections will be declared the "winner" and enjoy a warm feeling of satisfaction. Please, have those haiku in by the end of May No limit on the number of submissions. Your haiku should follow the traditional form, but as always, the poem is more important than strict observance of form. Write Every Day! John and LP
0
May 5, 2012
May 5, 2012 at 7:22 AM UTC
Hey Fragments! a Haiku Contest!!
Remind me, please Write me one more letter One like letters 16 through 53 The golden ages Write the last paragraph Like you don’t want it to end Squeeze out the lines You were planning on holding back Like you did For those 37 Teach me how to fall asleep before midnight Again Teach me how to wake up without hangovers How to wake up with ideas Show me everything Like our poetry collections Volumes 1 through 3 When we alternated days And submissions For 188 straight days Minus the 14 days We wrote four-letter poems Remind me, please When the bar was a date And 1.75 liters was a dinner party Not a Tuesday Make me pay you back The $65.00 in make-up That I used to paint “You’re too beautiful for make-up” On the bedroom wall Make me buy your little brother beer For painting over it Put 7,640 new songs on my itunes Because these 7,640 are played out Make sure we see every movie Nominated for best picture Before your cheesy award show party It’s up to ten now, you know Stay with me For nine more minutes While I hit snooze Awake and right at it Like ’04 Baby snores and blanket wars Like ’05 Up before the alarm Like ’06 Or at least in my dreams Like ’07 And ’08 Rub it in my face For the umpteenth time By taking extra good care of me When I’m sick Even though I never get sick Pose for me While I paint And stare Like that one time When you were feeling so brave Let’s spend our last $8.00 On yellow tail Our last $18.00 On Sebastiani Our last $38 On Veuve Cliquot Because every day is a celebration ******* Let’s reminisce on the 414 times Our bodies became one And the 671 times They were at least in the same bed Inspire me Call attention to my capabilities And caution to my chaos Instigate that ******* in me That made a jealous appearance or two At christmas parties and night clubs Hum me all 162 times I teared up in ’06 At the exact same time Like a drumline Of being lost Because baby i’m lost Point me Point me in the right direction Send me on the right path You know, the one with you at the end of it
0
Jan 20, 2012
Jan 20, 2012 at 10:26 PM UTC
...but who's counting
Remind me, please Write me one more letter One like letters 16 through 53 The golden ages Write the last paragraph Like you don’t want it to end Squeeze out the lines You were planning on holding back Like you did For those 37 Teach me how to fall asleep before midnight Again Teach me how to wake up without hangovers How to wake up with ideas Show me everything Like our poetry collections Volumes 1 through 3 When we alternated days And submissions For 188 straight days Minus the 14 days We wrote four-letter poems Remind me, please When the bar was a date And 1.75 liters was a dinner party Not a Tuesday Make me pay you back The $65.00 in make-up That I used to paint “You’re too beautiful for make-up” On the bedroom wall Make me buy your little brother beer For painting over it Put 7,640 new songs on my itunes Because these 7,640 are played out Make sure we see every movie Nominated for best picture Before your cheesy award show party It’s up to ten now, you know Stay with me For nine more minutes While I hit snooze Awake and right at it Like ’04 Baby snores and blanket wars Like ’05 Up before the alarm Like ’06 Or at least in my dreams Like ’07 And ’08 Rub it in my face For the umpteenth time By taking extra good care of me When I’m sick Even though I never get sick Pose for me While I paint And stare Like that one time When you were feeling so brave Let’s spend our last $8.00 On yellow tail Our last $18.00 On Sebastiani Our last $38 On Veuve Cliquot Because every day is a celebration ******* Let’s reminisce on the 414 times Our bodies became one And the 671 times They were at least in the same bed Inspire me Call attention to my capabilities And caution to my chaos Instigate that ******* in me That made a jealous appearance or two At christmas parties and night clubs Hum me all 162 times I teared up in ’06 At the exact same time Like a drumline Of being lost Because baby i’m lost Point me Point me in the right direction Send me on the right path You know, the one with you at the end of it
Continue reading...
89
My first rejection Email arrived today during a rainy day at work My phone vibrated once in my pocket We are sorry to inform you due to an influx of submissions we will not be publishing your piece we wish you luck in your future writing endeavors the staff of course, me being me, my first reaction was to be ****** off a child not allowed that really sweet action figure because "We need food" but after stewing on it a while I realized I need this because it's not success which defines us a lucky guy can succeed it's how we respond to defeats the big ones the small ones the oh my god why don't I just quit failures that they'll write in the book of judgement long after we are just dust trapped inside of a coffin
0
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 6:33 PM UTC
a smile of defeat
Hello my fellow poets I would like to say I've enjoyed writing and reading poems on this site and will continue to enjoy through my days. Alas I will soon be going on a hiatus and will return after awhile, but before I go I would like to issue a challenge to all my fellow poets. It's a collaborative poem challenge It's very simple two poets pair up and write a poem no restrictions. The rules are simple and are as follows: 1. The submissions will be from today till the end January 25th 2. The fellow poet has to be on this site. 3. Whoever uploads the poem their partner has to share it. 4. They have to be mentioned either in the title or side note. 5. Once the poem is uploaded send me a link so I can add it and you and your partner to the collab poem collection 6. What's a challenge without a prize, the winners will receive a notebook a pen and a hat 7. How do you win you ask. Well after the 25th I will tally all the views on February 2nd and message the winners. Have fun writing and I hope to see many interesting collaborations
0
Jan 6, 2015
Jan 6, 2015 at 11:47 AM UTC
Collab poem CHALLENGE
I mouthed beer breathed approbation at the invited wonder of your sister's sweatered ******* the tableau set then, for such delicious beginnings and shaky revisions, once I left the "look but do not touch" misgivings amongst the litter of a thousand such instructions I borrowed that hazel eyed angel for a night rescued from drowning in a clear bottled wasp trap the fattened marital photo was covered, alternating friends corrected and reassigned their alibis and frightened lies while heaven was briefly in our sights and we shook and screamed the clearing of our names from every future Christmas list and yet clearance comes only once inventory becomes stale and folds around your wintered house, offers no plan to buy or stamp a route to someplace else slow submissions rattle my pen this is no season for love and there is no reason to begin other than there, in the shadows, where portraits breed desire and while mirrors shall dream of falling I am not through looking yet for while fun and feuds begin with ******* an ending always screams attention
0
Mar 10, 2015
Mar 10, 2015 at 2:21 PM UTC
wish sister
by Arcassin Burnham Society wants to keep bending us over and have their way, Like cracks in the living room, throwing Molotov's at the windows, let it burn, we must not only take back our america, But we must stab the man where it really hurts, Aiming Mack 11's At park benches, the news feeding us consumerist garbage and false Submissions, tumbling Over cars just for fun of independence, We Must Fight Random Acts of getting the messege out, too much desperation will bring too much doubt, No brotherhood, Just the enlightenment Of seeing them Fall is all, so **** your arrangement, **** your penny pitching, And **** your cold world, We Gotta do whats right for our world, Do whats right for our people, Do what the great people that made america what it is today Would have wanted us to do.
0
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 11:23 AM UTC
"Enlightenment" (HP Crime Spree Challenge) (Frank Ruland Challenge)
You make me feel like a fool You have me thinking I'm crazy You **** me with your eyes and act like its nothing at all You were never one to kiss and tell But you tell me no and kiss me senseless I don't know why I'm still here Burning up and cooling down every time you hold my ear Three times I love you Three times no Too many masqueraded intentions and submissions If only you'd open up and let me know Nothing matters more to me than the trust The tryst was fun but the mystery is enough Kiss and tell and hold my lips No more talking, no more lies, I plead Gift me this.
0
Oct 7, 2016
Oct 7, 2016 at 5:07 AM UTC
Enough
Let free your muses from iron shackles and submit your poems to feed the jackals. It is noble, It is just, to release your words into the cosmic dust. And who knows perhaps you will be famous for sending your poem, and reach once more to greatness [email protected]
0
Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 9:19 PM UTC
Poetry submissions
Poets/Writers/Artists! I have started a literary journal called 'Sun and Moon' and submissions are OPEN. This is a space for new and emerging writers. Send your poems, short stories, and/or visual art to [email protected]. Feel free to inbox for more information!
0
Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 1:23 AM UTC
Sun and Moon
Submissions to the Annual Musical Torture Experiment for 2017 are officially open! Submit your five songs by emailing them to [email protected] "BUT WHAT IS THE MUSICAL TORTURE EXPERIMENT NICK?" Well me, I'm glad you asked. The Musical Torture Experiment was started in 2013 by yours truely, Nicholas R Coulombe. Where I asked everyone I knew, met, or saw on the street, to hand me 5 songs that I would add to one playlist, listen to that playlist on a loop AND NO OTHER MUSIC for an entire month. I have continued this tradition each year recruiting Willing victims & voulenteers to listen along with me. These victims have many different lives, interests, and genre preferences, but there is one thing they all have in common. The blissfull escapism of living in their headphones. This gaggle of Tune-heads who use their music as a fundamental life resource, a coping mechanism, an escapist fantasy or meditation. These people offer their body and spirit to music. Now, for a whole month, they are relinquishing control of their music. Shotgun no longer shuts their piehole. For an entire month. Listeners will not be able to skip or select any music other than YOUR SUBMISSIONS! This is the perfect opportunity to force someone to really find whats so amazing about those artists we culturally hate. Or maybe theirs an oldy that your grandkids Refuse to consider music because there is static or twangy voices instead of bass drops. Maybe you talk about your love of skrillex and a hipster spits their kombucha in your face. If you have songs that DESERVE the light of day. This is your chance to indulge in their exhibition. want to voulenteer yourself as tribute to listen along with these crazy ******** keep tabs on what is being added cause you think its kinda interesting? Or contribute YOUR five songs? Just Send an email to [email protected] by the end of August to participate! Go check out the playlist itself here: https://open.spotify.com/user/124409443/playlist/2TAdzDUKx7sfW1uJrqMS7K
0
Jul 3, 2017
Jul 3, 2017 at 10:41 PM UTC
Annual Musical Torture Experiment: 2017
Submissions to the Annual Musical Torture Experiment for 2017 are officially open! Submit your five songs by emailing them to [email protected] "BUT WHAT IS THE MUSICAL TORTURE EXPERIMENT NICK?" Well me, I'm glad you asked. The Musical Torture Experiment was started in 2013 by yours truely, Nicholas R Coulombe. Where I asked everyone I knew, met, or saw on the street, to hand me 5 songs that I would add to one playlist, listen to that playlist on a loop AND NO OTHER MUSIC for an entire month. I have continued this tradition each year recruiting Willing victims & voulenteers to listen along with me. These victims have many different lives, interests, and genre preferences, but there is one thing they all have in common. The blissfull escapism of living in their headphones. This gaggle of Tune-heads who use their music as a fundamental life resource, a coping mechanism, an escapist fantasy or meditation. These people offer their body and spirit to music. Now, for a whole month, they are relinquishing control of their music. Shotgun no longer shuts their piehole. For an entire month. Listeners will not be able to skip or select any music other than YOUR SUBMISSIONS! This is the perfect opportunity to force someone to really find whats so amazing about those artists we culturally hate. Or maybe theirs an oldy that your grandkids Refuse to consider music because there is static or twangy voices instead of bass drops. Maybe you talk about your love of skrillex and a hipster spits their kombucha in your face. If you have songs that DESERVE the light of day. This is your chance to indulge in their exhibition. want to voulenteer yourself as tribute to listen along with these crazy ******** keep tabs on what is being added cause you think its kinda interesting? Or contribute YOUR five songs? Just Send an email to [email protected] by the end of August to participate! Go check out the playlist itself here: https://open.spotify.com/user/124409443/playlist/2TAdzDUKx7sfW1uJrqMS7K
Continue reading...
36
i have a rendezvous with rhyme with only the lyrics of this orchestra my cadence is only for rhythm free-verse in its purest ingenuity I ache for quarterly submissions of my essential need to write the autopilot poetica of my last kaleidoscopic vision strange a musical hopscotch of surrender a mystical milking it of thirst muse & fate here relaxes for a final teasing and tasting of the plump record of odes and the promise of exhaustive cadence that reaches humming pentameter stares organic pink into utopia requesting documentation from the stars in how to be a poet, as legends burn martyrs in their alien worlds a last dynasty of awkward prayer-rituals.
0
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 10:51 PM UTC
Hallelujah poetica
Let's have a worldwide election for Peace on Earth forever! We're all Citizens of the Earth. Why not let everyone on Earth vote at the same time for the way she or he want the world to be. We already have the technology to do this. Do we collectively want world peace? Do we want to exercise our natural right to determine our own future? How many of you would vote for War--any kind of War, even World War III--that would destroy Earth and all living creation on it? Or would you prefer a world of equality, of kindness, of love? Would you prefer a world of letting everyone do her or his own thing, but do nothing that would cause harm to anyone else? All equals. No class system. No deprivation of food, good housing, great education, total freedom of religion (but no attempts to try to convert others). Citizens of Earth--all 8 billion of us--would be the government of Earth. There would be no president of Earth. Citizens of Earth would send their ideas and submissions to members of the General Assembly (around 200 elected for one five-year term by Citizens of Earth from districts that formerly were nations) who then would form them into proposals to be voted on by Citizens of Earth during the last two weeks of every month. Everyone worldwide would have access to smart phones (with one's own personal ID #). No more nations. No more borders (the world's air and water don't give a **** about them! Nor does the pandemic, with all it variants). We shall come to delight in our differences. We shall come to celebrate the variegated colors of skin, the different cultures, the different customs, languages, foods. No more aggrandizement, no more profiteering, no more money. No more wars, no more killings, no more *** trafficking. No more corruption, no more dictators, no more weapons of any kind. Just love and Peace on Earth forever. It's utterly doable! Think about it. Talk to your family about it. Talk to your friends about it. Talk to strangers on the street about it. It's our world, after all. Let's have an election and create a world in which we all can live without fear. Peace on Earth forever. TOD HOWARD HAWKS
0
Apr 12, 2021
Apr 12, 2021 at 8:05 AM UTC
LET'S HAVE A WORLDWIDE ELECTION FOR PEACE ON EARTH FOREVER!
Let's have a worldwide election for Peace on Earth forever! We're all Citizens of the Earth. Why not let everyone on Earth vote at the same time for the way she or he want the world to be. We already have the technology to do this. Do we collectively want world peace? Do we want to exercise our natural right to determine our own future? How many of you would vote for War--any kind of War, even World War III--that would destroy Earth and all living creation on it? Or would you prefer a world of equality, of kindness, of love? Would you prefer a world of letting everyone do her or his own thing, but do nothing that would cause harm to anyone else? All equals. No class system. No deprivation of food, good housing, great education, total freedom of religion (but no attempts to try to convert others). Citizens of Earth--all 8 billion of us--would be the government of Earth. There would be no president of Earth. Citizens of Earth would send their ideas and submissions to members of the General Assembly (around 200 elected for one five-year term by Citizens of Earth from districts that formerly were nations) who then would form them into proposals to be voted on by Citizens of Earth during the last two weeks of every month. Everyone worldwide would have access to smart phones (with one's own personal ID #). No more nations. No more borders (the world's air and water don't give a **** about them! Nor does the pandemic, with all it variants). We shall come to delight in our differences. We shall come to celebrate the variegated colors of skin, the different cultures, the different customs, languages, foods. No more aggrandizement, no more profiteering, no more money. No more wars, no more killings, no more *** trafficking. No more corruption, no more dictators, no more weapons of any kind. Just love and Peace on Earth forever. It's utterly doable! Think about it. Talk to your family about it. Talk to your friends about it. Talk to strangers on the street about it. It's our world, after all. Let's have an election and create a world in which we all can live without fear. Peace on Earth forever. TOD HOWARD HAWKS
Continue reading...
2
Everyone is standing, staring at the front. Here i go, I have to. It's me. Be abnormal in the norm. Everyone stares thinking Im going to say something, is it going to brilliant? Sassy? Witty? I exit to the left with no words spoken, no attempt to entertain those around me. This is me. This is who I am. I am not an entertainer. I am not someone to stare at, to gawk at, to perceive as special, to want to be. I am me. I am the one that spent years finding out who I am, I am the one who doesn't like being told what to do or who to be. I am the "Me" you wish you could find in you. I am the freedom that makes you scream I am the voice you keep disciplined, hiding inside like a frightened child. The voice you fear will one day collide with the reality which you live day to day. I am Me. I am the Me, you wish you could be. I know myself, I know my "Me" and I know "What" I can be. I have handled and grew from my past, i have dealt with my submissions of self hate and removed my disguise. I have been in front of the wall and felt the cage that surrounded me, how else do you think i found the me in "Me"? I broke free. I have witnessed my life be someone else's, I was trained to obey, but now these days I am ME.
0
Oct 7, 2013
Oct 7, 2013 at 9:26 PM UTC
This is Me
Dear dog: it may be suggested I write on paper of rice the better to be digested since your critique's so nice I notice you baulked at the stamp. Should I enclose a bone with future submissions begged from my midnight lamp? I suppose it could have been worse, at least the dog has devoured my verse!
0
Feb 17, 2021
Feb 17, 2021 at 7:06 AM UTC
Submission to Editor