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Officer Danbeneath this blanketOfficer Dan4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
of abhorrence
and shame
Beneath these stars and stripes
lies a form
of animosity
far too dark
for most light-
a hand too fragile
for most might
But a hand that's been shaken
a million times.
Song: "Dance With You"Your coffee's getting chilly.Song: "Dance With You"3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
My tea's getting cold, too.
The back door's wide open,
and I can guess where you've gone to.
Your legs are so wonderful,
as you dance circles in the twilight.
I can't imagine any better way,
to wish this day a sweet goodbye.
If I went out there,
and I saw you,
would you laugh at me,
for chasing after you?
Well I guess that I
can't resist you anymore.
The way you pull
me into this dance of yours.
Your hand in my right,
my left down on your waist.
Swaying to the rhythm
of the fireflies that sway.
How could you ever expect me
to stand this close to you,
and not lean down and kiss
those lips I
A thousand questionsA thousand questions pounded my braced lips,A thousand questions6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
wanting to escape. A thousand questions I knew I would never ask and I knew could never be answered.
So instead, I sat against the hard wooden bench, lips pursed,
my mom's right hand grasping my knee the other holding a handkerchief.
The atmosphere stiffened as a young man entered the room. He sat in a grand chair,
next to an old white man with long dark robes, who was seated in an even grander chair than the one
the boy sat in. They chatted like old friends
till everyone in the hard wooden benches were seated and silent.
The boy's icy sea foam green eyes stared blankly in my directi
Am I A Fool?Am I a Fool?Am I A Fool?6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
A fool to believe in a passion
So strong
That it could pass beyond the lines
That have been etched in our minds
Since the time that this race
Encountered that of another?
Am I a Fool?
A fool to believe in this ecstasy
This lust that can not be contained
Despite centuries of discrimination
And segregation
And rules that dictated this life...
How do I cross that line?
How do I speak words that do not exist
In a language that is so limited
A language that even with so much power
Still fails to speak the truth...
Am I a Fool?
A fool to have believed in the lies laid out in books
That have been written,
From the
.:Love and Lust:. You were there time and time again..:Love and Lust:.1 year ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
But now we are at the fork in the road.
This is something we can not ignore.
We must choose to go left or right together.
Or must we part ways?
But over the years you act like I don't mean anything.
I have tried to walk away but you keep pulling me back.
I crave your touch, Your body.
Why do I feel this way?
We are not together anymore.
And yet you rub your hands on my body.
Melting to your touch and the shivers down my spine from your breath on my neck.
I don't feel right.
We said goodbye. Why are we doing this?
All the love we made can not change this.
Sometimes I wonder if this is only lu
Lying in the DarkEverything liesLying in the Dark1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Beyond the skies
Where the flies
Say their goodbyes
Me's and mys
Because they're wise
Ans able to rise
Above our eyes
Away from cries
Our poisonous lies
And poisonous lives
Our biggest disguise
Silent SuffererYou pretend like life,Silent Sufferer1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Is happy and carefree.
But deep down inside,
You are ready to die.
No one knows your story,
They think it's all ok.
I know what has happened,
Because you were willing to share.
You suffer in silence,
Because you're afraid to speak.
You know you'll be judged,
If you tell them what happened.
Your way of comfort,
Is not the answer.
So I'll do my best to help,
And not let you suffer in silence.
Crying SoulCrying Soul1 year ago in Concrete Poetry More Like This
A crying soul that was left alone
Had no one to tell her what was right or wrong
She had a beautiful voice with a low tone
And was grateful for the little lone
One day she sits down,she never once thinks of the sound
And as she pulls out a knife, she dreams of her life
While bringing it to her chest, she never lets herself rest
She closes her eyes and stabs herself because of the lies.
No one had told her of the ties.
So now the light that filled her heart and soul, dies away into the never ending night.
EMO is notEMO is notEMO is not3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Side bangs
Black T-shirts
Or skulls
EMO is not
Cutting yourself
Or hating the world because it doesn't revolve around you
Not locking your door
Or a type of music
EMO is not a person
EMO is
A feeling of being completely alone
It is not hate the world for not revolving around you
It's hating yourself for not for not being seen by anyone in the world
Not hating the world
But yourself
Emo means Emotional
Not hate or goth
But the ability to feel and see yourself
And be able to express yourself
Wearing black because you feel you're not part of a set pack
stardust and sun drenchedOn your birthday the sea leaves salt at your doorstepstardust and sun drenched3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And a few broken pieces of seashells
That seem to no longer whisper
Their little quirky remarks
Tickling against your attentive ears
You rush across the front porch, trying to chase shadows
Footsteps against the pavements of summer heat
And when you look up at the bruised sky
Of violet against stark cerulean you start to wonder
Why the sun left you without a farewell and
When would it rise again without a 'morning'?
And the world is oblivious to you
They call you names like
'Girl with a rabbit heart'
'A lost child'
And 'little angel façade'
But in the shadows of you
For Youshe tells me i'm crazy,For You3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
but i can't help myself,
there's something addictive in each word,
each thought,
each wish
[and i swore i'd never feel lust
but i'm a master of lying to myself]
every word you write
stays with me,
but i'm waiting for the right moment
[i'm in the right place, but the wrong time]
you'll never know the monster in my chest,
the jealousy
[is it pathetic
to hate someone i don't even know?]
you don't know the panic i feel
when i think that
you might not be there someday.
[it's the right time, but the wrong place]
did you know that i need you
like i need the stars and sky,
like the sun and moon?
[you are
3:00 AM3:36 AM3:00 AM3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
i forgot to mention:
i'm looking for you.
and did i forget to mention
that you're impossible to find?
i know that you say
you're above technicalities,
but that's not what i think.
so i say, 'let's find each other,
and we'll break a few clichés.'
we'll fall between the cracks,
so honey, don't mind the bruises.
'cause they're just reminders
of how much we love each other.
['cause if you li[v]e for love,
maybe i[t]'ll die for you.]
3:41 AM
i miss the dandelion wishes
and waiting for the flowers bloom
in fields of "maybe" and "what if"
so i can pick you a flower for your hair.
'cause you'd look pretty with a
'ma
Why Boredom is DangerousWhy Boredom is Dangerous11 years ago in Humor More Like This
WHY BOREDOM IS DANGEROUS
The following is a list of things to do when you are bored. I do not give permission nor can I be held responsible if you so choose, to do anything on this list,
Thank you,
Your superior.
1. Wax the ceiling
2. Buy cheese
3. Drop your cat from a high place, to see if it really does land on all four feet
4. Repeat above until failure
5. Load Snood onto a friend’s computer
6. Sharpen your teeth
7. Do the magician “saw a box trick” with your sister
8. Wash behind your ears
9. Clean and polish your belly button
10. Ask people if they want to see your “belly button treasure”
11. Wash
Self Righteous SuicideSelf Righteous Suicide:Self Righteous Suicide1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
We're sleeping,
In a cold world,
That has long denied the light.
We isolate,
Each other,
As we walk alone at night.
We plot,
Unholy vengeance,
As we dream of endless death,
We hate,
Our reflections,
As we choke away our breath.
We sleep,
And suffer,
Tormented by our dreams.
Alone,
And frightened,
None shall hear our screams.
So sick,
So vengeful,
A taste that is sickly sweet...
Let me end,
This life,
For hope I shall not meet...
"Why should we alone cry, when angels deserve to die?"
-Chen Yuan Wen, 24th February 2012
AloneAlone1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
You were alone from the start,
But you didn't care back then.
You were special.
So special that no one could understand you.
But that was special too.
No one could reach you in your bubble.
Then the others came.
They were more special.
You pulled away.
While being surrounded you felt so alone.
Until you were really alone.
And no one could understand you.
Not even you.
You tried to change.
But the bubble was strong.
You kicked and screamed, but no one noticed.
That was what the bubble was for.
Then came the time when they pushed you away.
They couldn't have known you are different.
Are you different?
you drifted away,
They
I triedI tried to count my scars,I tried1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
But I couldn't tell
Where one began
And another ended.
So I tried to count the cuts,
But I couldn't, because
Blood smeared across my skin,
Connecting them like a thin,
Red veil of pain.
And so I cried.
I cried a single tear, because
When I need to cry,
I can't.
Finally, I sat down,
And put pen to paper,
Or fingers to keys.
And tried to write my emotions.
But I couldn't, because
I don't know how to tell the world
What I feel like,
When I have no right.
I looked from the blood stained tissues,
Across my torn body,
Into my own eyes, reflected perfectly by the mirror before me.
Another tear was p
The Thing About ClichesI.The Thing About Cliches4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
If this were a cliché,
A poem, or both
It would be about sparkling midnight skies and heartbeats and flowers and sex.
There would be oceanic eyes and rain that tastes like tears. We’ll throw in anxiety-riddled murmurs and metaphorical bullets and allusions to sharp objects for pity.
This is not a cliché anymore.
So instead I wrote about the flavor of emerald and the fragrance of April hope. I painted pictures of a perfect pencil, poised over a blank page.
II.
If this were a romance,
A message in a bottle, or both
It would still be cliché, to capture electric fingers and longings locked away with skeleton keys
Stop CryingPlease don't cry;Stop Crying2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I hate seeing you cry.
I wish you had someone to hold you-
someone to wipe away your tears-
someone with a shoulder for you to cry on.
I wish I knew how to make you feel better.
I wanna tell you that you don't deserve this,
but I'm not quite sure I believe that anymore.
You're a bad person;
you treat everybody horribly-
you don't care about anyone.
No, stop crying.
I can't stand to see your tears anymore;
I can't handle seeing you like this.
I like to pretend that you and I aren't the same,
but when I hit the mirror in front of me,
I can see you pull your fist b
so kill me, mockingbirdi once said, listen up,so kill me, mockingbird3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
because here's the way
it's going to work:
there will be milky ways
and mountains and clouds
dancing with rain,
the sun won't quite
look the same, and the moon
won't seem so dull.
i once said, come closer,
because there's something
that you need to know:
at night we'll breathe
against each other, move
with each other,
and our delirious melodies
will wake the waves
and shake the stars.
i once said, stay here,
don't go, never ever
leave me:
but here i am now,
eating my words
from a silver platter.
shuteyegot my mamashuteye2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a golden needle,
but
she hid it
in the hay -
told me
the sweet things in life
are worth looking for
over
and over
again
'til your eyes just
can't see
anymore.
Despair 2 years ago in Visual & Found Poetry
More Like This
Porcelain DollPorcelain Doll9 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Porcelain doll with tangled hair,
People pass or stop and stare,
Her cotton clothes are ripped and torn,
Her parents regret the day she was born,
Her plastic heart has melted down,
Her stunning smile, a perfect frown,
Her shining future, a blackened road,
Her flowing words, a fucked up code.
Once glowing eyes, now dark and dead,
And voices scream inside her head,
A falling rain of acid tears,
Mirrors reflecting all her fears,
A fire raging through her veins,
Drugs to reduce all her pains,
Her porcelain skin, now scarred and bruised,
Her staggering beauty, now gone and used.
A foreign beauty, now buried alone,
A cryptic place
DepressionI've heard so many people tell those who suffer depression to just 'cheer up.' I wonder if they can really believe that it's that simple.Depression7 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
Depression isn't just sadness. It is emptiness, it is misery. It is pain and nothingness at once. When you are truly depressed you lack the ability or will to cheer yourself up. No one just 'has depression.' You suffer from it. This is depression:
You will wake at 5, 6, maybe 7am, feeling as though you had only just fallen asleep. It's likely you did. If you don't have to be somewhere, you could lie in bed for another 3 hours...too tired, too miserable and pathetic to crawl out of you bed. Or maybe you wi
Sta.sh
