Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 147° 
Caroline Shank
I can't write when I'm coughing.
The spill of sound from my soured
throat, distinct  as brittle glass
when squeezed, the waiting
martini loosed into the air

Woof of bark and warp
of ice into the long inhale
of winter.

I write while you sleep, the
Soft cotton on my breast,
breath of forgetting denied.

The morning rasp awakens.
Another wasted day filled
With the.
    Loud call of
cough and bark.



Caroline Shank
June 4, 2024
Under the mango tree where the shade is dark and deep
she waits with years on her skin.

The face though weary with the burden of time
has not yielded to the fate
of having once loved and lost.

She believes the winds from the barren field
will one day carry the rustle of footsteps
raising a song from within earth
that the moment is arrived
for the dead river to rise in tides
and flood her cheeks with the sapplings of
all the unplanted kisses.

When the nights come
the fireflies would sing
love is such a beautiful thing
basking in the glow of her heart.
 108° 
David Lessard
I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)
 79° 
Nina
We hug
We kiss
We cuddle
In bed

We were just friends
We made out
To him
We were having ***
To me
We were making love
I was his friends with benefits
But he was my lover
 72° 
Akshay
These words are for me,
For I'm the one who's hurting,
I'm just healing myself.
I often wonder why we can't understand other's poems sometimes, but deep down it is the one who writes it knows the value of it.
 64° 
Ariana Bagley
I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.
 54° 
ranveer joshua
as i look through my window
i cannot find his light
he’s nowhere to be seen
i’m all alone tonight

his presence calmed me
silent and serene
his warm yellow shine  
a sight unseen

oh please come back soon
i miss you so much
i’m off to bed now
please stay in touch
 48° 
eli
today,
i wore it again
and people complimented me
they say red is my color
and it suits me.

today,
it's too thick and dark
did i overapply
no, it's the right amount
just enough
to make them think
i'm fine.

today,
i look at myself
in the mirror,
and they're right
red shines on me,
so i applied
another layer,
and another
until my lips felt too thick,
but my eyes still see
the scars beneath it.
 32° 
fallacies
your eyes still look familiar
but the looks they give me now are foreign
 31° 
Alex Teng
We fell in love by chance,
We stay in love by choice.
 27° 
Betty H
I ride the waves of sorrow
to join eternal bliss
I await a kindly person
to plant a gentle kiss
 24° 
Goddess Rue
Heaven rained on me,
I breathed in the petrichor,
Bathed in the downpour.
I have sinned,
So destroy me,
With your rain.
Her soul is bleeding,
her colors are fading;
instead of becoming nothing,
she chose to give away her everything.

And so...

The world around her
suddenly turned brighter,
and there she was
slowly becoming duller.

The pain was unbearable
yet she silently endured it all,
she held the brush in her hand
and painted until the end.
 20° 
Marie-Lyne
:)
I think
the world
needs
more
of us
than we
can offer
 18° 
Madeysin
THIS.  IS.  LOVE.  

yell it until the vein on the side of your temple pulsates, pulsates in my 21 year old mind

yell it until the bruises are gifts

yell it until the anxiety is your inspiration
 18° 
noa
this time of year feels like a memory already
I should’ve
waited
for someone
like
her to
come
into my
life.
 15° 
Saint kaya
The sky is
A graveyard of stars

And I remark
Something so tragically beautiful

Just like fireworks of art
From here to the nearest star

And I wish
I could lay awake
In the night

With you
And our lingering hearts

And tell you all about a tragedy
Called life
 14° 
Nat Lipstadt
Why Men Cry in the Bathroom

For so many reasons.
I will tell you the why.
I think you know,
Or perhaps, you think you know.

Men are always O.K.,
Even when not.

We expect the worse,
Accept the worse,
Nonetheless,
We are forever unprepared.

Wearily, we cry,
In the bathroom, in private,
Lest sighs slip by,
We be unmasked,
Early warring, strife signs warning.

Copious, tho we weep
Before the mirror confessor,
It is relief untethered,
Unbinding of the feet,
An uncounting
Of beaded rosaries,
Of freshly fallen hail stones,
Of night times terrors
By dawn's early edition's light,
and welcomed.

But look for the mute tear,
The eye-cornered drop,
*** tat, that never drops,
But never ceases formation and
Reforming, over and over again,
In a state of perpetuity of reconstitution,

The tippy tear of an iceberg revealing,
And I see you peeping, wondering,
What is beneath


Look for:
the torn worm-eaten edges of spirit,
thrift shop bought, extra worn,
grieving lines neath the eyes,
where the salt has evaporated,
discolored the skin.
worry lines,
under and above,
browed mapped, furrowed boundaries.
the laugh line saga,
where better days are stored,
recalled, as well as recanted,
publicly, privately.

Why just men?

I don't know,
Perhaps,
it is all I know.


Jan 6, 2013
your effusive and lengthy comments are each a poem in their own right.  

Tinkered with June 22, 2013
With a push from Bala,
A serial peeper, thank God!
 14° 
Everforest
Monday,
We woke up looking perfect, right?
Tuesday,
We're kind to everyone cause it's what we love to do, right?
Wednesday,
Put extra makeup on to hide the evidence of last night's beating, cause if anyone found out they'd laugh and tell us to **** it up, right?
Thursday,
We laugh because crying ruins our image, right?
Friday,
. . .I got in a fight.

I don't know about you but even on the moon's brightest nights,
it's still got a dark side,
Maybe we don't always see it, but it's there,
So don't judge me when I miss the mark on "perfection"
 13° 
Nipuni Ranaweera
Clipping my poems
so that they look cute
on instagram
so that they huddle
like chickens bound in a
butcher’s lorry
making way for pictures
feet-  in –a tangle,
like snipping a plant
for Bonsai
you think it’s the branches that you prune
but it’s really the roots that you
mangle.
 12° 
ketjil
You can’t compare yourself
With the unbroken girls
Surrounding you
You already shattered
Creating
A new form
Of beautiful

-jt
a somewhat older poem
 12° 
rosalind
someone once told me
you never forget your first love
you always love them
maybe in some strange twisted way
your brain forgetting
all the pain they caused
you love them
and i think they were right
because in a way
i love you
and i think i always will
for some nonsensical reason
i will never see the world
the same because of you
and sometimes i wish
i could change that
erase you from my thoughts
as you distort them
with your unwavering power
but then i remember
i wouldn’t want it any other way
you have shaped me
into the person i am today
and because of that
and i wouldn’t change a thing

- i'll never forget you
 11° 
emnabee
The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.
A little escape from the madness.
Or maybe, into.
 11° 
Kurt Philip Behm
Before there was light
before there was sound
Gravity wandered
the universe round

Plotting the orbits
of things still to come
Spacing the essence
of all zero-sum

(Dreamsleep: June, 2024)
 11° 
Me
No more lies
or games
no shame taken
on

I am
what I am
and will
with no fibre of me
adjust
just to make you feel
better.
 10° 
Reimers
It may look like I'm silent
But don't let it fool you
I'm holding back the will
To say that I love you
 10° 
Nat Lipstadt
be ever gentle to thy words
treat them, your tools, well,
cleansing and protecting,
wrapping them in cloths of chamois and moleskin
that they may be well conditioned and
pour forth with a temperament clear and viscous,
reflecting their high honors and a noble lineage,
they are well-intentioned to exist far longer
than your meager temporal life,
upon this ever hasty, ever perpetual, orbit

give them all respect, their fair due,
they are treasure immeasurable,
for which you have been granted guardianship,
custody received from others to be gifted onwards,
yours, but for the duration

so oft we trifle words,
expel them from the country of our body,
without passport and earnestness,
as if they were the cheapest of footnote filler,
day tourists, to be treated as leavings,
refuse for daily discardation,
barely noting their fast comings and faster disappearance,
but leaving not, a mark of distinction

more truffle than trifle,
find them in the dark forest of your life,
use them sparingly, just for soaring,
take them from the roots of your trees,
shave them with a paring knife,
counts them in bites and measure them in grams,
even in grains,
for words are the seasoning of our lives,
agent provacateurs that can modify the moment,
bringing out to the fore
the flavor of the underlying

speak them slow and distinct,
for they arrive slow to you,
a trickling of refugees for your sheltering,
harbor them as full companions,
protected by natural law,
provision them well,
prepared and ever ready for a quick departure,
moor them at the embarcadero,
for the next restless leg of endlessness,
which they themselves will inform you
will last longer than eternity,
long after there are no humans to speak them
Oct. 6, 2015
4:30am
Manhattan Island
 10° 
misha
your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you
if only i could chase you with pizza but shots don't work like that
 9° 
Ronin
you
you
are the everything
causing me to be
broken
empty
lifeless

you
did it
it is all
you
your fault
why

me
forever damaged
full of hate
all for
you
 9° 
Creator Sun
Hey
Hey.
You probably won't see this,
But what I want to say is that I.
I hate you.

You're stupid.
Filthy.
Unreasonable.
There isn't enough words to describe your awfulnesses.

So why does it hurt?
Why does it hurt when I push you away?
Why does it hurt when you chase someone else?
Why does it hurt so much?

As much as I want to say 'I hate you!',
I realise that I.
I.
I love you.

It's stupid, isn't it?
If I told you this, you'll laugh at me.
Reject me. Pity me.
I just know you will.

And that's why I never told you.
That's why I kept pushing you away.
That's why I'm drifting away, drifting away
From my light. You.

But absence makes the heart fonder,
Doesn't it?
It hurts so much, it feels like I've
Left my heart behind. With you.
I'm salty that my poem got lost due to a connection error. Anyways, do you think this letter fits a Tsundere or Utsudere better? I'm experimenting with letter formats in an attempt to raise my motivation for my scenario writing which is where I've been focusing most of my attention onto. I have a lit exam tomorrow too, so extra practice in analysing my own poem for me!
 8° 
Kafka Joint
Nothing can justify your silence,
Unless you really don't want to talk about it.
 8° 
Chree
Feet don't stick to the floor, heard they were just making movies we created the story.
Weightless youre inflated and basically bouyant. (Floating) on every page I made I'll be paying it forward.
Yall racists are corny, to insane sums - that turns banks into corporate with their lame drugs.

Al-I-EN on the beat I can make it rain blood, Angel no wings no ha-lo (Hey bro..) You're going to far in beat, lemee change drums.
Im to in, I don't think I can escape now. (now) (now)
 8° 
Max
She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."
What's the difference?
 7° 
AceLione
When God created man, he did so by creating Adam in his own image

How could the devil sway Adam and Eve if they were created from God’s own visage?

Is it sin if our creator could fall for the same blasphemous deeds?

Ask yourself if every flower blooms as pretty because they come from the same seeds
Mysterious indeed
 7° 
Eric Martin
I feel sick
Rotten to the core
All I want to do is quit
I can't take it any more

Nothing I do will stick
And just makes me feel more sore
I think about ending it
But I can't loose this war

I know there's no trick
To make me feel like I did before
But I'll keep on trying to make some thing fit
Because I believe life has more for me in store
 7° 
Ann
keep your eyes closed love.

           e     t      
       m           i
    o                 m
s                        e  
                            s     all you have to
                                                                ­
                                                                ­ l                  to is what the sound
                                                           ­      i            n
                                                  ­                s           e
                                                               ­          t

                                                              ­                               v
                                                               ­                         a        e
                             ­                                          of the  w               s
                                                               ­                                       
                         ­                                                                 ­            tells  you
                                                                ­                                        to do.
"Keep your eyes closed, love. sometimes all you have to listen is to what the sound of the waves tells you to do."

When I was much younger, beaches were my second favorite places. I still love watching waves as they go by, crashing against each other and the whole process repeating all over again.
 7° 
spacequeen
I’ve been soaking in the after glow
Of watching magic unfold

Through the hearts of others
Next page