Have you seen my dream?Have you seen my dream?Have you seen my dream?2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It's not that big
But it is mine.
Have you heard my opinion?
It's worth two cents
It's worth every dime.
Have you touched my heart?
It is very fragile
But I am willing to share.
Have you seen my dream?
It may not be much
But at least I dare.
or maybe it actually is.thisor maybe it actually is.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
a love poem:
this is not about
me and how i hate
the way realism tastes.
this is about you.
this is about how you
are one too many shades arrogant,
how nearly every night you
try to forget that time has
left you behind. this is
about your laugh and the way it
whispers "i can't remember
what i was like before i
became this." and,
if i'm being honest, this is about
how i will never see your too
cocky for your own damn good grin that
makes me go weak in the knees.
this is about you
and how you're not real and how i wish
to god that i wasn't either.
We did not expect the world to end.We did not expect the world to end.We did not expect the world to end.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
It just did.
We kept saying “It won't happen in our lifetime.”
But it did.
We closed our eyes to the cracks in the walls
and they crumbled around us.
We forgot the decay in front of us.
It was so easy to ignore.
It ate away the foundations of our lives.
Still we ignored it
and claimed that life would go on.
We did not see it coming.
Even if it was right in front of us.
We tried to repair the cracks in the dams
though the water had already washed us away.
And though the clouds were black and red
we looked away.
Or stared ourselves blind on the colour display
as our skin peeled away beneath the acidic rain.
We dreamt of the sky
and reached for the stars.
Forgetting the ground beneath our feet.
It tore apart at the seams
the gaps too wide to repair.
And the sun was setting on a world
We did not predict the true apocalypse
though many a prophet had tried.
Their predictions were hollow
and we lost faith.
We did not listen to the real
It's Not Polite To Lie.Hush, sweetie,It's Not Polite To Lie.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Do not let their judgments define you.
Do not let their hatred construct you.
Do not let their words build you.
Do not let your sorrow swallow you.
Do not let your pain devour you.
Do not let your loneliness change you.
Stop telling yourself lies,
Stop screaming in a whisper that you're
Inside and out.
Stop telling yourself that you're
Stop telling yourself that you're
It's not polite to lie.
So SilentIt was so silent on the hill,So Silent1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
She could hear her steps,
A look at the watch;
Time's not passing,
Not going away,
Like a friend who waits, insists;
That she must do something at last.
She Dances With FireShe dances with fire, a dragon in tow.She Dances With Fire2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Twirling with flames; graceful and slow
She dances tonight, in a city of ash.
Her feet leaving footprints, where the sand will splash.
Quietly mourning, as time goes by;
Where once she beheld a home in her eyes...
Yet naught but the barest of bones remain,
And so she dances, to soothe the pain.
Poets And Artists.I am self-destructive.Poets And Artists.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
You are the affected.
I’m a thought that’s still in motion.
You’re an idea perfected.
I’m a sacrifice without you.
But with your life, I’m injected.
I’m a thousand puzzle pieces.
You’re the way to connect it.
ellie.she was always aellie.1 year ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
galaxy, and i am not
allowed to touch stars.
I am who I am.Mine is not a face that would launch a thousand shipsI am who I am.2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Mine is not a body that would make men go to war
Mine is not a mind, sharp as a blade nor quick or witty
Mine is a heart that bleeds and loves none the less.
I am not a queen of beauty or elegance of ages past
I am not a model or scientist, nor a woman of career
I am not a fashion statement or a symbol of feminism
I am a woman with hopes and dreams none the less.
Mine is not a perfect home from the magazines
Mine is not the latest fashion or trends of clothes
Mine is not the accepted norms of life or style
Mine is the individuality of not caring for either.
I am not the person everyone else wants me to be
I am not the kind of woman people expect of me
I am not flawless, nor ashamed of the flaws I have
I am who I am, and I am who I want to be.
Hard TimesI see you’ve been weeping for some time nowHard Times1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
You’re all torn out and cold
Even if all you see is darkness
You’re the bit of light that’s shining
And I know you don’t have control
But you can't just let go
Because if one day you do, you might lose yourself
Then I’ll be left alone, with no one to hold.
reasons why we should be in loveif I couldreasons why we should be in love1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
I’d love you like
those couples who grow
into each other and make
poetry out of body language
and wear one another’s
weaknesses when they get
too heavy and talk about
the weather without ever really
meaning the weather at all;
and you’d keep me from
falling asleep in the ocean
and I’d lie about little
things, always confusing
Sunday for Tuesday and
you for somebody with
the same face who
was always afraid of
me. you’d chuckle and
hold me and I’d cave in to
you like the hungry tide
and you’d say I looked
beautiful when I cried
and I wouldn’t believe you
but I’d cry more anyways.
if people were alive,
you’d be the brightest
one. I don’t have much
to offer but I could write you
a million dedications
in the sand, and give you
pocket change when you
needed a wish; I could
take you to New Zealand
to paint water lilies or England
to go skydiving or Italy
to fall in love and mean it
and I would promise you
the moon an
The girl in the pondIt was a warm summer night when I found her.The girl in the pond2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Her dress was white with yellow sunflowers,
and her auburn hair was spread out around her pale face.
It looked like an ever changing halo
moving gently in a soft breeze.
She had lost a shoe
Her deep, blue eyes stared into heaven
and the freckles of her skin drew constellations
against the pale background to mirror the stars above.
Fish gently nibbled at her fingers and nestled in her hair
paying no heed to her ruby lips which her last breath had left open
almost like an invitation.
I looked at her
I loved her...
Thinking it was the least I could do
now that she had been so carelessly abandoned.
It was my duty to remember her.
I took the memory of her and stuffed it away
for safe keeping
The rest was just a shell
now empty and soon decayed.
Then I left
leaving only the pond behind to swallow its secrets.
The Sun and the Rain (poem)The Sun and the Rain (poem)1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
The sun was a pretty girl;
Dressed in ribbons and bows.
Each day she brightened up the earth
With her crimson orange glow.
The rain was cold and bitter;
Friends with the sleet and snow.
His heart hung heavy with misery,
His songs were full of woe.
One day they collided.
The sun said “Don’t you know?
The grey and cloudy tears will soon disappear;
I think you’re great just so.”
So up in the sky together
They let their love flow.
It leapt from their hearts, across the world
And became a rainbow.
First friend, first loveI’ve been sitting alone for so longFirst friend, first love1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
That I’ve forgotten the meaning of "friend"
But just when I started to think I don’t belong
You became a person that I could befriend
But as time passed along, you seemed like more to me
My heart would grow warm, every time we’d speak
But I just don’t know if we could ever be
But I’ll take the first step, to start something unique
how to be a writergrab a sharpie and paint your nose,how to be a writer1 year ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
(yes even under your eyes)
write about them.
adopt a dishonest love for
and showcase it with your speech;
fill it to the brim with references.
especially if you haven't read him
and don't know who he died
listen to music you will never like
to write verses everyone else
make them say yes
when you're writing about saying
glorify your sadness.
it can be innovated
and every chance you get
fall in love with people you
know your parents will hate.
love till you are out of space to
write about the sea
and how it's fucking
write about space and how
the universe is either against you
or with us all in equal
behind your words;
start writing the truth
with your lies.
engulf metaphors in the morning,
find depression a
Imaginary FriendsMy reflection in the mirror hates me,Imaginary Friends1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
and I know because she told me so.
She twists and turns and fogs the glass
bending unnaturally while moving with me
she pinches her skin and leaves blemishing marks
tearing off pieces she deems she does not need.
“Just wait,” she whispers as she bites her lip
“only so much longer and I can be free,”
her lips are bleeding again, but I’m brushing my teeth
“free to hurt and bend and break that wonderful body of yours.”
I can hear the whispers, I can hear her skin tearing.
She reaches up and touches the glass
and it bends under the brushing of skin
I finally speak with a tilt of the head
“Imaginary friends shouldn't be able to do that.”
We Were SoldiersYou'll never hear me say that there's glory in war.We Were Soldiers2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
It is ugly, it is painful, it is frightening...
But I know, in my heart;
Deep within this soul born of freedom.
That what I do, at times, is a necessity.
It is nerve-wracking, most days,
Knowing that when you wake up you may not make it home.
But still I am proud,
Because of what I have managed to achieve.
And tonight; I hope that you're proud of me,
Because I'm sending a hundred of my boys home.
I just wish that I was joining them this time...
Don't be scared, darling.We're going to try something newDon't be scared, darling.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
Eating our meals, and swallowing each bite,
Not hiding the chewed up remains under our tongue,
And not making ourselves vomit through the night.
We're going to try something new,
Bringing the liquor down from our lips,
Not turning to the alcohol for comfort,
Until the addiction rips.
We're going to try something new,
Throwing away the needles, the pins, and the blades
Not searching underneath our skin for emotion,
Watching the wounds and the scars fade.
We're going to try something new,
Darling, I challenge you, I dare you.
We're going to try something new...
Why does that scare you?
The WidowHow peacefully he sleepsThe Widow2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
upon soft, silken sheets
as I bend down to kiss
the warmth from his lips.
So softly he moans
and whispers his final breath
so regal and angelic he looks in death.
I gently caress his curled, auburn hair
praying for the angels to take him in their care.
So peacefully he sleeps
upon soft, silken sheets
and I savour the taste
of his last, warm breath
What God has in sacred marriage
may only be parted in death...
The heroes of old.Let the old heroes restThe heroes of old.1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
beneath ancient stones
buried in history and dressed in legends.
Let the old kings rise
in marble and gold
for all to see and praise in forgotten stories.
And when time comes
for the legends to breed life
let then the old heroes serve their kings
in ever lasting stories of the golden past.
To be a writerYou taste like decaying leavesTo be a writer1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
and October's bad habits-
when it’s halfway through February
that still haunts these bones.
I have allowed you to
claw your love
into my arms
and chant into my
for much too long.
I wish I was one of those girls
who could say wild flowers
grow up through my nooks
and my crannies just to tear
through my skin, screaming.
I’m just that dead eyed deer
on the side of the road dreaming
of shoving a pen down my throat
and writing these verses inside out.
I am no scribe, prophet, or spell caster.
I know it.
My skin knows it.
My pen knows it too.
Years and years
my mind will dwell
on the way your fingers
chain linked between my ribs
and shook my
to be a writer
is to be a masochist,
and I refuse to get off
on the pain anymore.
Evanescentonly the mostEvanescent1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
beautiful of creatures
live the shortest.
red roses and quivering
butterflies and other
useless things, like the
way she wishes on every star
she sees for a different
soul because she can't stand
the way it's rotting inside.
and it's only when
the thorns beneath her skin
start to bleed that her
monsters whisper, "have
you ever trembled, my dear?"
because they know
for every whimper that hides
faintly in the dark,
there is a pair of lips stretched
into a smile pretending
that all that is beautiful
is timeless and unbroken.
The Girl He LovesThe girl he loves is midnight, like the blue of the sea cradled by the moonlight.The Girl He Loves1 year ago in Free Verse More Like This
The girl he loves is verdant, the very green of the hill kissed by the summer delight.
The girl he loves is coral, as pink as the roses that grow in his mother's garden.
The girl he loves is crimson, red like the autumn leaves that lay abandoned.
The girl he loves I can never be
Because he's allergic to violets,
And violets are too much like me.