Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nandini Mar 2014
Words impossible to pen down ,
let go like a loose electric wire .
Mixed lines , confused verbiages ,
unsettled like random mosaics.
Composure of the birds disrupted ,
like ripples in the calm water .
Running with my life onto my palms ,
over to topple .. gasping to breakfree.
Lost identities , scars of the past rooted deeper.
I want to run , walk , fall but not stop ,
i want to caravan the world , conquer speed.
I dont want to be tagged intelligent ,
to meet the social benchmarks .
I want to set myself loose , breakfree cross boundaries,
i want to be a ROGUE NINJA.
I want to let the untamed breeze fill my hair ,
I want to live ....
Theres no point penning down your thoughts with perfected adjectives..
    JUST BREAKFREE.
certifiednutcase Oct 2013
She doesn't know why
She's the sort of person
Who converse with inanimate objects.
She can't (help) but call for the razor
Whenever she's in deep confusion.

She's not the sort of person
Who is able to use verbiages at her fingertips.
The tune her fingers play
Doesn't portray
Phantoms in (her) head.

(She)'s the sort of person
Who loves coffee and the morning sun.
But she's also the sort of person
Who hates her own existence
And find that she's no good for life.

She's the sort of person
Who doesn't believe that people care
For everyone who said that
either left
Or (wants to leave).

(She) didn't meant to be annoying
Nor did she wanted to be so disgusting.
She hated putting that cold metal
Against her skin which was warm with life.
She hated sticking *******
Down her only throat.
She merely (need)ed something
To take the pain away.
Her only wish was (salvation);
She's been held captive by her mind.

(C.C)
Mike Hauser Aug 2015
Some months ago a partnership was initiated
With our individual verbiages for you being instigated
All care is taken when composing as a duet
As we aspire to put upon the paper our appealing minuet

While she takes the high road and I take the low
We often meet in the middle of the poetic flow
Bringing together both of our wits
More often a hit than ever a miss

Keeping on track calls for a unified side
To stray from this course our poem would be a disjointed ride
Every now and again we check what's been noted for the crew
As we'd not be satisfied with a misconstrued brew

With topics covered to numerous to mention
All of them our potted clay of invention
We can celebrate what we've placed in our cooking pan
Even though our muse didn't give out her recipe plan

So with a little of this and a whole lot of that
We mix it together for the perfect batch
There's no need to over cook as it's already done
The way that we look at it as all in great fun

Being too serious isn't of our writing tag
We just stow wit and wisdom into a bag
If by fortune we get the arrangement this side of right
Our vocabulary combo may be of your delight

With the poem to our taste we raise our glass high
Using just the right words just the way that we like
No need to ferment this tender bouquet
We send it right out with the feeling it's perfectly aged
This is just another in a long line of poems that Elizabeth and I have composed...I'm thinking we fit together pretty well!
The Dedpoet May 2016
Petrified,
        Obsidian stones,
Fire understood,
      Superfluous verbiages;
The mangled butterfly absorbed by light,
       Hope is born at the tongue,
Confirmation contorted,
     Clarification of the crystalline cries;
  In the whirlpool of the first
Swirling at the tip of the tongue
     Chanted in a litany of animalistic
Nature,
       There is only a man,
Singing solar solstice,
     Staring into sun stars
Splitting solitary shadows,
     The end of the beginning,
Man and fires
Speak the dust,
       Tears of the evocative death,
Rebirth in memory,
Memorial in melancholia,
Misty eyed men mention losses,
      Speak the grief,
Speak the rage,
         Man that is man,
Tongue of emotional images,
                Speak as the first word,
A tree of names,
      Yes, the word,
Words,
       The poem everlasting
Longing to be unspoken.
Yonathan Asefaw Jun 2018
Reading Journal #1

Rummage a book
I’m done bulldozing
about how much I
kaleidoscope textbooks.
Pick up Exodia and
obliterate me to the
shadow-realm
(Get to point? Ok.)

Reading Journal #2

Syllables
Gibberish.
Lectures
Syllables.
ZzZz
Gibberish.
9/5 work

Reading Journal #3

I’m scrabbling syllables to
strut them like drag queens
I’m bored out of vulture-brains.
I got ******-fingers
I rummage up a ****-hole
like college ****-stars.

Reading Journal #4

****
****.
Lectures
College.
****
??
Newton.

Reading Journal #4

Do you read Britannica Dictionaries,
an alligator of an FAQ?
It Einsteins verbiages like ****,
man and s u c k s
I’ll add abbreviations the next time
I scribble average joe mean-girls-esque
diaries.

Reading Journal #5

…Awkward,
I don’t remember writing
this Morse code doggynote.

— The End —