"writen" poems
I'm the best, there ever was
Can't get with me, at da club
Other poets, need to respect
My reputation, I'll protect
I got a 9, pen in my hand
Write your name, in the sand
To me, you can't never stand
I ain't afraid, to let out a curse
Write you in, an ugly verse
I'm da best, you da worst
You can't, stay with my meter
I spit sick, iambic pentameter
I'm da truth you da cheater
You rhyme like Armstrong rides
You have to dope, ya got no rhymes
You da Cheech I'm da Chong
I write, you smoke da ****
You da burger, I'm da veal
I earn likes, you freakin still
You got da, cheesy *** rhymes
Droppin' words, like love & sublime
I put the free, in free verse
You all about, Nonsense Verse
I drop a sonnet, makes his head Shake
I'm the Chaucer, you da fake
I'm a Lyric, you the Lune
You can't quit writen', too crazy soon
Your stuff is dirt, mines the moon
You want a challenge, get in the ring
I'll make you cry but your mama sing
You'all poets, you got to know
You da fluff, I'm da show
I'm the king of the poets, HELLO
Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 7:22 PM UTC
*never date an artist:
for they’ll find the beauty in the fight -
they’ll grow to remove themselves from all the light,
knowing nothing lasts forever,
it’s all a stroke of fate -
or a pen’s dance on a paper’s grate.
never date an artist:
for the moment’s together will be exaggerated into a shakespearean play -
love’s trance will be in every date,
never knowing if the words spilled are the beauties of your’s or estranged gains of a moment’s escape,
for everything is painted by the beautiful eyes of an experienced guide -
is it real or a work of art they’re just trying to explain.
never date an artist:
they’ll miscommunicate everything they care to say -
not knowing how to communicate beyond the artistic escape,
an artist will rejoice in the gain of a moment’s grace,
finding every reason to hide from the honest’s truth -
for an artist is nothing but a fairytale’s goof.
painted, writen and expressed to be everything they wish people would see,
washed up and beaten by reality’s plea -
never date an artist, for their life is nothing but a conglomerated mess -
of how to escape the stress of the everyday and live in hopeless harmony,
they’re nothing but an anomaly:
never date an artist.
trust me.*
Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 5:04 PM UTC
While reschearching 4 my book I
discovered this & would like 2 share
It was writen when I was 16 &
still in High School
I was sitting very depressed
Taking a Mathmatics Test
When I noticed this
Written upon my desk
"Smile!
It's not so Bad
It Could Be Worse
But, Don't Ask Me How"
And I Just Had To SMILE
Apr 26, 2010
Apr 26, 2010 at 8:30 PM UTC
I remember when I was a child I disliked reading books , mostly all of them . They all had a specific ending it could be happy or sad and sometimes something in between. Somehow I knew that I could never read the words writen in my heart by someone elses pen so unknowingly I started writing. I started writing as what a normal child would have to, when he starts to dream and imagine about all the things that one wants and desires and everything one knows he could be. I started writing in the blank page of life . I wrote my desires my ideals my character my adventures and everything else I thought I needed my life to be about. Pages full of happines, memories , mistakes and terrible regrets. All my darkest desires ,darkest secrets my best and worst qualities. Since I was a child the only thing I didn't give importance was time , time was passing fast right before my eyes into the words I was writing on that blank page . I never stood still to realise that until now . My life was turning into my worst nightmare filled only with paranoia and fears. I never realised that getting so hooked into what you want life to be and what it actually is would turn my reality upside down and realised I was living in a lie that I was writing . As I was stading alone in the dark yesterday I woke up . The page I started to write since I was a child run out of all empty spaces , I dont know how old I was back than but now I'm 21 and the worst thing is that I realised that I'm one of those humans helplessly stupid and I've wasted so much time rewriting and correcting on that blank page everything that I thought was wrong and now my blank page looked like the messy adventurous confusion I wanted my life to be. Today I woke up and I had a new page to write on and I've only writed four sentences the only four sentences I decided to keep as a treasure from my life
as far as today.
To desire is to dream
To dream is to want
to want is to do
And to do is to live.
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 5:54 PM UTC
You
held
my hand
I fell asleep
I woke with the Lord
my soul to keep
In the Book of Life
tis writen that
perfect day
After all,
we were never meant
to stay
Born anew
I look forward
to seeing you
At Heaven's pearly gates
Jesus
awaits
like a
father
I never knew
I'm at complete rest
in my Savior's
arms
Completely healed from
all of life's
perils
and harm
I send peace on the wings
of
a Dove
Knowing full well
I have been
truly
Loved.
Aug 29, 2017
Aug 29, 2017 at 10:34 PM UTC
I thought about getting a tattoo
a small script that read **** you"
I'd tell all my friends, it's deep,
there's a massage there, you can't see
all writen and now inked on my feet.
In hopes that you might see
and never want to **** my feet.
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 1:42 PM UTC
whats going to happen to me-
now that the sky is falling
can't see the forest for the trees-
now that the sky is falling
you thought I was strange,
you never knew my name,
you perverted the game,
ain't no more zombies-
now that the sky is falling
everbody believes-
now that the sky is falling
you laghed when they harassed,
you didn't help when I gasped,
you joined in when they kicked-
my a**
words of the prophet writen on the school's wall-
now that the sky is in free fall...
Mar 30, 2018
Mar 30, 2018 at 12:39 PM UTC
She said, "They use to call me busy-body, now I'm just a no-body,"
as I stroll up, headphones to unplug, to sit and wait for buses of school children to come up.
Feeling kind of broke of a sort that wont shut down, inside I'm meaning, reeling for home unfound.
Prospecting, working, commish here and there, "case management" on my case breathing till no air.
Looking and ardently searching for something that's not there, a plain jane job, to just give room for air.
Plans on paper, sound right in my head, but seem less and less practical in practice of what's read.
"Help? Daddy has a headache and sickness with no want to help baby,"
as she fashions a meal from play food in a play kitchen to make me feel better.
But I wont sit at her table, I wont play with her dolls, not today, when I've got the world at my *****
biting and stabbing me in the back of my brain,
no, now I'll just put on a movie and try and sleep for a change.
"I love you's" are exchanged as I cover my head,
and the ultimate weight that is me lies in my bed.
Troubled, down, pierced by the bad negative points of life,
I'll rise later again looking for a "re-set" button to make alright,
while she sets the table with guests to an imaginary meal
cooked to perfection in hopes to change the way Daddy feels.
Apr 14, 2013
Apr 14, 2013 at 11:39 AM UTC
When i was knee high
Could i ever cry for our countries gone under
Because we had to surrender
Shredded by German's plunder
Yet i rejoiced and thanked God
when the sun was shinning
I did a lot of day dreaming
watching the clouds as they went by
The only jewells i saw were the daisies by the road
their perfect little rows
of white petals , center gold
I dreamt of far away lands where people were free
free to talk, free of fear and striffe
America land of my dreams
you were floting in my inner space like a desert's mirage
I clung to it with determination
until the day, it came into action
Young Gi's fresh faced, full of youth
smiled at us from their metal girth
tanks, cannons, guns and the likes
They looked so vulnerable and young
they held my hand " small " in theirs " strong"
in their palms well fed and reassuring
they could be so loving to a little girl
who defied dying
So land of my dreams you will come true
In my heart you grew and grew
till one day, i will see NewYork bay
Land of my dreams you will be mine
Colette Anne Naegle
1945
Mar 4, 2012
Mar 4, 2012 at 4:17 AM UTC
Never let the voice that whispers softly in your ear .
Dictate the direction of your soul.
As in his embrace you find passion but do you know truth?
Make no diffrence between the two.
For a fools logic often allows passion to blur the reallity .
For in blood promises writen agreements seem easy till the price need be paid.
Locked doors will not shield you from a end simply create your tomb .
On full moons and othet dark ocassions often there is light even within the darkness.
Did the promise not live up to the truth my dear.
Did that temptation just seem to sweet to deni .
We can ignore are nature but we are carnal animals just the same.
Death finds us empty as alone we must enter to whatever may be .
Never make promises your not willing to keep.
And so in your demise the whispers softly as they were spoken from a forgotten lovers release .
Were still lies just the same.
Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 4:01 PM UTC
To those who have depression you know that it fills our minds with dark thoughts of our past, present, and future.
It makes us second guess why we are still alive.
It takes a strong iron grip on our chest and makes us struggle to get out of bed in the morning and makes us choke on words like "I am fine." Or "Don't worry I will be okay in time."
It twists the positive words we hear to form negitive thoughts of self-doubt and self-loathing.
It makes us want to hurt ourselves till we can't hear the words of hatred anymore.
It consumes our souls that were once bright and cheerful and turns them into darkness and sorrow.
To those who do not have depression do not understand why we can't just be happy.
They don't understand that every day is a battle of life and death.
They do not understand the effort it takes to get out of bed in the morning and to face another day.
To those who do not know that the words they say hurt us.
We take your words seriously.
When you tell us "Go **** yourself." We actually want to.
To those who don't know that they just forced a peer of theirs in the closet when you said, "If I saw a gay I would beat them up." It makes it harder for them to accept who they are.
To those who don't understand why people with eating disorders hate themselves enought to starve themself or make themselves sick after they eat.
It is more then trying to be thin.
It is the cure to all our problems if we just don't eat this week.
Or we eat and make ourself sick.
To those who don't understand social anxiety.
Loud noises scare us.
Large groups of people freak us out.
Talking to new people makes us worry.
Socializing is difficult and doesn't come easy for like the rest of you.
To those who don't understand why we stay in that abusive relationship.
We feel like they will change.
They said they loved us.
They apologized and said it will never happen again.
They threatened to hurt themselves or us if we left.
They make us feel special at times.
To those who understand everything that was writen above and that has been through any of these things.
Please know this.
You are strong.
You are important.
You are beautiful/handsome/perfect.
You are a fighter.
You are a winner.
You are loved.
You are cared for.
You are amazing.
Aug 25, 2017
Aug 25, 2017 at 1:36 AM UTC
Pain is in my life. Its the scary monster in my closet. Its the failed and broken promises my father has made. Its the time I spend alone just wishing I wasn't an only child. Its when my family pass me off as an outsider, and I hear my parents say they wish they never had me.
My pain is knowing that I might not be loved by anyone. To know that my weakness and lonelyness is writen on my face. Knowing I can't be with the one I love.
Pain is a filthy monster that has consumed my life.
Jul 22, 2010
Jul 22, 2010 at 7:38 PM UTC
Maybe I can pull it all together
maybe I can write something clever
maybe then you'll finally look my way
everything I've written I'll get the chance to say
look into those big green eyes and gaze
dig down deep and find the strength to say
everything I've written
day dreaming my pen moves across the page
every stroke paints the words I long to say
I've never known myself to feel this way
thoughts of you are filling up my day
while these words I write are filling up this page
looking at your smile I hear the melody
to everything I've written
Jul 28, 2012
Jul 28, 2012 at 9:35 PM UTC
This is another set of poems i wrote that I have been trying to turn into a song. It's composed loosely, for that's the way I write - kind of from the center out, and I don't like to rework my words too much because I find that it alters the original intended feeling, so please forgive the grammarical errors and call it creative liscense.
I've been a fool,
I've been a fool, it's true
Now I live without you
Without you by my side
I can't go on
I don't want to go on without you
If at night you hear the wind is moaning
Your lonely soul is groaning
Think back, you'll find
I'm on your mind
There was a time when you were mine
Everytime the phone rings and there's a hang-up on the line
If you search for what is lost it's me you'll find
At the end of the mystery...
Though I'm a poor man,
And I'm tired
I'll never tire of loving you.
If you're alone and you can't stop crying,
cry,
cry for me, too.
I'll weep for you.
There was a time when you were mine.
Footnote: This was writen about obssession a long time ago, but now I think it's more about the subject just THINKING he was obssessed. And no, it's not about me but, in my writing I have always been able to empathize with various points of view.
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 10:52 PM UTC
My impression of women
is disheartened
by the most wonderful admiration.
A beauty
that once found grace
is a constant fear.
In their figure and their face
does hurt or spooky complete this.
I blue
Hollywood away to
lay awake in brood mares
stirring passive fires in
warm honey.
"I loved you."
Is naught "love" ewe.
Place this heart in a blender
and press,... love, or hate,
or any other garilous word
on the surface of the arcade.
Madness, or slight copped,
minced or purety.
How then on any day
can watching a badly writen
play make surety?
Does rhyming
have another way
to find I lauded enrapture
with the death
the tallest of tale tale hearts
doesest thou now know
if proven that one love is
worth all women.
Reveled in horror
the blender shakes
as does my arcane prose
to the figure
of a woman
in underwear
on Friday,
the 13th.
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 4:07 PM UTC
Where does my soul goes to ?
Where ?
Will I find my soul back ?
I share words into a poem represend my soul.
Inside of, stanza's poem has been writen in rhythm become melody automatically.
Sadness, disappoint, gladness contains in one soul.
I found my soul back though have to wait in a few moments.
Don't take my soul !, unleash my soul.
I'm nothing without my soul.
I do only needs my soul.
Sep 17, 2011
Sep 17, 2011 at 10:31 AM UTC
I miss you
And I know it all
Seems as if its
Just abstract flirtation
And hopeless poetry
For the spirit of romantic gesture
And that it isn't truely...
That deep craving
Of endless oceans
And time weathered shores
Of waves cashing
With every beat
Of a heart
So desperately
And sickly
In love
That it could
Never die
Or be
Broken
And the simple
Madness of the truth
Isn't able to be
Writen or spoken
With any alphabet
Or language
And I could
Never describe
The how or when
Of it all
But I do
Know I will
Always be falling
Here
In this place
Where
I miss you
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 12:38 AM UTC
TEARS in MA HEART
From a distance
I c a baby in d strit
cryin in cold and all alone,
it seems he's mama is gone
and no one to show him love,
he's gat ear's like a rabbit
and hair coiled like that of thet arabics,
from a distance i can c hunger
boldly writen in his face
and it seems he has been left alone
2 die in a place meant 4 waste.
i can see people passing by
but no one care 4 dis baby,
d baby cried louder and louder
but no one seems 2 hear.
i feel big deal for this baby
and i can feel ma heart crying 4 dis baby.
since no one cared or heared
The loud cry of dis baby in d street
how can anyone feel my depression,
My pain or hear the silent cry
for dis baby in my heart.
Jul 28, 2012
Jul 28, 2012 at 5:04 AM UTC
sometimes you can’t believe what you’ve
done
your mind wanders back in time
looking for the moment you shattered
or built, changing the flow of our
collective future
the bird flies across your window for a reason
the soldier dies in a fight for a reason
the is poem is writen for a
reason
and we shouldn't know what the reason
is
if you do,
I’m sorry
watching what becomes of your
actions is terrible and mystifying
it hurts
or
it stuns
or
both
or
worse
I fear myself as I dip my oar into the river of time
I fear that in my wake a flood will come
Mar 28, 2011
Mar 28, 2011 at 2:58 PM UTC
I see trough the window
A gray sky and clouds
I felt empty
Like missing a part of my life
I realize...
I miss you from my life
Your laugh
Your smile
The way you kiss me
And wraped me with your warmth hug
If we could have this life for one more day
If we could only turn back time and rewind
I promise I will never leave you again
Just with you forever
My life is like a blank paper
Writen by your beautiful memories
That become a part of me
And when you're gone
A part of my life also gone with you
But I know it's too late to fix
It's no use regreting the past
Only ruining my future
Jul 1, 2013
Jul 1, 2013 at 12:52 PM UTC
Can't you see the scars on my leg
Do you think I don't love you
All the sleepless nights
I held a gun to my head
And made sure the blade wasn't dull too
Every time I swore I loved you
It's days like this
when I make up with makeup on my face
Leaving only a blood trace
It's raining outside
I'm crying over you
Oh, agony sweet misery
How I loved you
The sweetest lies were told
The truest "I love you's" were sold
And the days of sweet escape
Writen on the walls of serenity
But I loved you with my whole heart
Yes..with my whole heart
As honestly and truthfully as best I could
So I bid you a fare good bye
On my bed you did lye
Sep 16, 2012
Sep 16, 2012 at 9:18 PM UTC
We struggle to die
Running right into life's trap
Racing with time ,
We want to grow up
No one to blame that's just us
We age and we differ
Our bones becoming weaker
Our skins lose the glimmer
Our teeth have no holder
We look back onto the days we were young and merrier
No one to blame that's just us
We seek home in holes
Love ,lust and betrayal
Cries, laughs days pass on
History writen ,they say it lives on
Legends writen over our dry bones
No one to blame that's just us
We can't see these wonders anymore
The sky no longer embraces our world
6 feet deep it feels stone cold
Our souls in rest in the world unknown
As the recite these words on our tombstone
There's No one to blame that's just us
©m_e_reidow
Jul 9, 2018
Jul 9, 2018 at 1:56 PM UTC
You think you know everyone you meet
But the funny thing is
We all have a chapter
That we don't read out loud
Even if it's the best or the worst one
That we have writen
~Katt
May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 4:31 AM UTC
I haven't writen in a while and it hurts my heart and head to know I just don't have inspiration. The words used to flow out of my fingertips when I was with you but now it's like if they were stuck in the palm of my hands and they cannot reach out for the paper. And today I read a poem about death and couldn't help but to remember how I used to picture how sweet it'd be to die by your side. Pathetic. He is hugging me like before and I am getting chills and that is also pathetic. Maybe love is not made for someone like me or maybe I am not made for something so beautiful as love, but as long as I can write...
I guess it's alright
Nov 15, 2013
Nov 15, 2013 at 6:23 PM UTC
All my favorite writers
are vacant from this space
there is no trace
their heart felt out pours
crushed under a wave
of generic love poems
of fast writen mud
I scroll past
empty rhyme after empty rhyme
where are you?
where did my poetic friends go?
We broke like the last splash
on the shore of a dried up lake
These new words feel fake
to those whose souls I loved
I hope you are still penning
somewhere
I hope your ink still stains pages
and that someday
I'll read your names in a book
or I'll find you on a journey
and once again hear your words
that sent my heart
into a flurry
Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 1:22 AM UTC