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Just because poetry isn't made with a brush, it doesnt mean it isn't a part of art. Poetry is as much a part of art as drawing or painting is. Except the pictures you make are made of words. We could always use more members, fresh materials, and new veiws. We would love to affiliate with you if you'd like to (:
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Founded 12 Years ago
Feb 21, 2010

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Global

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Common Interest

1,021 Members
739 Watchers
23,905 Pageviews

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Burnt OfferingsIím in a burning buildingMy first thoughts are to fleeSave myself from the vile smokeFilling up my lungsBut...There are many floorsWith rooms on every floorI can hear the cries of othersTheir frantic pleasI feel a moral obligation to helpAs many as possibleI begin to open doorsSome contain living peopleOthers only the remainsOf what once were human beingsI try and get as many of the livingOut as possibleI am not strong enough to carry them allThey must be able to walk themselvesEven then I can only guide them to safetyIím in danger of smoke inhalation myselfPlus, Iím not sure which doorsI open will contain even more fire and smokeWhen I open doorsAnd only find the deadI become discouragedItís so sad!Some wonít even let me assist themTheir capacity to differentiate rightFrom wrongHas corrodedThey grab on to meand won't let goThe smoke starts to affect my own judgmentI begin to use force to help some fleeBut this only makes me weakerAnd fills me with a strange dark despairI begin to question my own sanityIs it even worth getting out?Where so many good people have died?Perhaps, a worse fate awaits us allOn the outsideAlthough that doesnít seem possibleI rescue manyBut I don'thave the strengthto go onIt's now become impossibleFor me to leave or breathAnd...There is no one left to free meThe smoke slowly extinguishesMy own sensesStill, my final coherent thoughtsAre these:At least I triedMaybe, I could have done moreBut...At least I triedI think...I had been placedin this building To rescue somebut ultimately to dieFor my attemptsthousands of times
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Literature
Pigeons
Like wild animals caught in a cage We bite, tear, and claw at our flesh and bones Desperately, destructively With madness and rage Seeking to escape the steel prison that has captured, tortured, and brutalized our souls Screaming with agony and delight we pray for something, anything to appear or change Moan, groan, howl, Like animals gone insane Let me call your attentionto a man closing his heartand whistling a happy tune He swore it wouldnít hurtthis timebut his tearshe just can't hide Love he believesis the worst of liesAs he gazes upon the worldwith his cold orphan eyes A shield will soonreplace this ragged worn disguise You have shown them allhe thinksno one could fool you His life has always beenbut a series of accidentsawaiting an emergency room Soon there will beno evidence that hewas ever even here He knows thisfully understands itbut still, he doesnít care No one will ever know his secretsor the treasuresthat he held so dear He will die alone and forgottenleft with justhis twisted sense of pride Only some pigeons will miss himwhen his park bench is emptyon that day he dies
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:iconhappyhedonic:Happyhedonic 12 6
Literature
detangling dangerous circuitry
at the beginning
I was innocent
I believed I was strong
I believed I was secure
I believed I was a protector
I believed I was an advocate
I believed I stood for righteousness
I believed I stood for justice
I believed I stood for healing
I believed I stood for the weak
I believed I stood for the helpless
I believed this would never change
but slowly
I became the weak
I became the helpless
to all the pain that I witnessed
to all the cruelty I saw committed
to all the indifference and even prejudice
my voice started out strong and diminished to a silence
I was silence by all of the
popular politics
the strong opinions
the negative thoughts
the active gaslighting
my voice died a slow cruel death
silently watching
my soul screamed
and I could remember a message from King that said
that those that stand by are just as guilty of the perpetrators
and I knew I was guilty
the guilt ate away at me
my happiness corroded
rotten on the inside
but happiness remained intact on the outside
toxic energy
:iconemilywrites:emilywrites
:iconemilywrites:emilywrites 5 4
Literature
Story of a song
Show me the sky with pings of a key
Sing to me life with a shout or scream
Everything is spinning with the slam of a surface
Colours are born from the sound of a song
Whisper some breath into a piped symphony
Watch different tones as they move and speak
Destroy sorrows and shatter misconceptions with the bass
Flutter away on the wings of treble
At the end of the rest
Before any crowd yells and cheers
When the beat stops and nothing is heard
Magic is found in every note and every word
:iconColdAmuChan:ColdAmuChan
:iconcoldamuchan:ColdAmuChan 5 0
Literature
Facial Expressions
Ah, look upon that face
With different types of blush
From crimson rose to ruby red
That cover the cheeks or cover their head
Their hair that changes so rapidly
Cut down by scissors, carefully
Seasons go by for their locks that grow
Shades of dark brown and chestnut, they go
A glance, a look, that’s all I see
He blinks, he shuts so mercilessly
Piercing eyes that could fill with joy
From lustful man to excited boy
His smile, dangerous yet happy and free
His ears, stuck in place so perfectly
Eyebrows never disorderly and unchanging
His face moves when his mood is ranging
“Why are you writing a poem on me?”
I can imagine his voice silently say
It echoes in my thoughts and in my dreams
We are together and this is love, it seems
:iconColdAmuChan:ColdAmuChan
:iconcoldamuchan:ColdAmuChan 2 3
Literature
apostasy
before he led me like a lamb
to the altar,
he got me drunk.
take this and eat, he said,
hands on my hipbones,
soft thighs, soft sigh
for this is my body -
but he gave me no bread, only
bruises, and he gave me
new thorns for my head
and i bled
till sunday morning.
tell me:
who speaks of resurrection?
are you there,
mary magdalene?
mary, when
will easter come?
:iconmoondrums:moondrums
:iconmoondrums:moondrums 61 25
Literature
Waiting
If my love was formed today
Would love just wait for me?
Who would think to pick this flower?
Do you think I could be a tree?
If my love had gone away
Would they wait for me?
Where the stars touch my hand
Do you think they’d be?
If my love had turned to stone
Would someone wait with me?
When the time had struck midnight
Do you think love can see?
If my love was denied
Would no one wait for me?
Why do I have to be alone?
Do you think that’s free?
If my love had changed at all
Would everyone wait with me?
What can I do to stick around?
Do you think my heart is debris?
If only I knew if someone could wait
Waiting for someone like me
How sweet and warm would my heart turn
Before I melt into the sea
:iconColdAmuChan:ColdAmuChan
:iconcoldamuchan:ColdAmuChan 4 6
Literature
Above it all Below Zero
Above it all Below Zero
50 below in Celsius
-58 Fahrenheit...
below
below...yet above it all
where the air is thin
and one's tallest mountain
is but a mere snow-caped peak
jotting out of blankets of clouds below.
below...
far below
lies civilisation...people...millions of people
so far...so small...
obscured by the clouds
clouds?
clouds that blanket the heavens high above?
ha! frozen below zero soaring even above the clouds.
above.
above it all
even above the clouds and mountains
that seemed insurmountable.
soaring at speeds unimaginable
swallowing time-zones in the wake.
Soaring.
below the stars
above the clouds.
So high!
higher than the Andes.
Andes?
behold their peaks
their tall soaring peaks...
below...far below
carpeted in snow...frozen
frozen...
yet colder still soaring even above the Andes...
Hours pass and day turns to night
as darkens begins to fill the heavens
but this feeling has not left
wonder rises still
as clouds stained red drift carelessly below
darkness creep
:iconDEANJENO--art:DEANJENO--art
:icondeanjeno--art:DEANJENO--art 37 0
Literature
No place in this world
My face has a grim expression
My eyes filled with regret
Negative obsessions
I just wanted to forget
The world that exists today
has no place for me
I have gone astray
from normality
Should I just disappear
into a sea of strangers
I don't want to hear
the truth of life's dangers
I am not desired
Not my soul nor my mind
I have been rejected
in this world made of twine
There will be no tears
if I left this night
For every one of my fears
has finished with their blight
There's no one left to consult
There's no one left to see
The girl who's cryings faults
That person that was me
:iconColdAmuChan:ColdAmuChan
:iconcoldamuchan:ColdAmuChan 1 43
Literature
Found Poem
And then, curiously
The ordinary American
Ovens to stereo systems
Which they, without argument
Simply accept.
:iconMrWootton:MrWootton
:iconmrwootton:MrWootton 5 4
Literature
Lonely piece of sky
Look at me right now
Does anyone see the truth?
How lonely somehow
a part of me can be, so blue
I truly wonder
Why I am such a mess
Sometimes I ponder
Where can all my clouds rest?
Some people sing up to me
Think that I know everything
Believe that I am happy as can be
But they know nothing
It's cold when the sun goes down
I turn from bright blue to black
There is not many souls to be found
Only stars beside me to track
Oh sweet stargazer hear this
Why can you not believe
That shooting stars miss
Never truly obtaining a dream
Does anyone know how lonely I am?
Not really much to say
No one can really understand
They only just pray
Oh starry sky
Listen to my trouble
I wonder why
I always tumble
I'm all alone
No one can hear my screams
It's so damn cold
But what does that actually mean?
:iconColdAmuChan:ColdAmuChan
:iconcoldamuchan:ColdAmuChan 5 3
Literature
I Am Not Dead !!!
You!
Who are you!
Who are you to call me dead.
I am the author.
I am the poet.
These words you read are mine
and mine alone.
On this work
is all rights reserved.
Who.
Who are you
Who are you to say the author is dead.
With each word i breathe.
The rhythm is my pulse.
The poem is my soul's cry from within me
Contained in this written form.
My poetry is evidence of my life.
I am not dead but alive forevermore.
Who are you to call me dead?
Who are you to disregard my intentions
my opinions, my life
in favor of your own ideas.
To disregard me is to disregard my poetry.
Each poem is a piece of me,
whether i distance myself or not.
I
I am still the poet.
it was my,
my intentions, my opinions
and my mind and my soul
that gave birth to what you read.
Why?
Why argue amongst yourselves about interpretations.
You have a right to yours
but that does not make it more important than mines
or my opinion.
You critic!
You book reviewer!
What makes you think you are so smart.
What makes you think you kn
:iconDEANJENO--art:DEANJENO--art
:icondeanjeno--art:DEANJENO--art 19 15
Literature
O heart !
O heart where art thy shattered pieces now?
Hast thou gathered the shards and splinters from
whence they fell and
were buried deep within.
Hast thou begun to try and mend thyself once more?
Or...
More so...
Can you?
Can you put the pieces back together?
Answer me!
Answer me O you broken pitiful thing!
Answer me and hide not the truth from me!
I know you.
I have seen thy tears
in the dead of night
and before the sun
doth shed its light.
I have heard thy silent sobs echoing within
thy hollow bony cage.
And watched as thy sadness birthed
more sorrow and pain.
I have felt thy pain
thy sadness
thy regret
thy fear
thy insecurity
thy loneliness...
that sense
that sense that no one understood you...
or truly... really...cared.
I know you,
though often I tried to deny you
and hide you from the world...
But now,
Now I have come.
Come to face you one on one.
Let us reason together
and speak plainly.
You are broken O heart
and hurt deeply.
It is time
it is time to end the silent pain you
have endu
:iconDEANJENO--art:DEANJENO--art
:icondeanjeno--art:DEANJENO--art 11 3
Literature
Night Wars
I dropped my sword and collapsed onto the floor
I have gotten so weary and cannot wield it anymore
The skies burn red with the shadows of past
Soon my armor will break and I will no longer last
I grow tired of battles in the night
All the bad dreams that I have to fight
To remember what I have been through, what I have done
This is no war, it's a slaughter and they've won
My helmet has cracked, my chest piece is falling
All I hear are sounds of insanity calling
My screams of sorrow, anger, and despair
Hidden within my mask has now filled the air
There is no ending this war, there's no chance
For I, who has shed tears with blood on my hands
Cannot save the versions of myself I have killed
So I wished for all of my time to be stilled
I dragged my sword across my frozen earth
As a baby would drag her blanket after birth
The difference between the pure and the tainted
Makes me want to hate which some who I am acquainted
I closed my eyes and wished upon a simple rose
I wish the enemy to who
:iconColdAmuChan:ColdAmuChan
:iconcoldamuchan:ColdAmuChan 7 9
Literature
It Is Waiting
My memory is like the attic
of a house once full of family.
It's full of echoes now.
The sounds of running feet
and screaming laughter
have all turned to dust.
The edges of sharp emotions
have been worn dull with time.
When I concentrate I can see
the room and all of its contents.
I can picture myself
sitting in the space only I can reach
flipping through a book of snapshots.
They're all just six second snippets of
the way it felt to feel young.
Maybe I'll stay awhile.
It's safe here
where the others can't reach.
I look out the window of my attic
and realize that time has not stopped.
My life has continued without me.
So, I stand up,
dust myself off,
and walk to the door.
I hear the soles of my shoes hit the floor and echo.
they bounce between the barren walls
stirring air in places only I can reach.
Something feels wrong here.
Time moves too slow.
It takes years for my mind to move my hand,
months for it to bridge the space between
here and the door frame.
I try to open the door to le
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:iconsnakeeyes0025:SnakeEyes0025 2 0
Mature content
Twisted ver: Suit and Tie :iconcoldamuchan:ColdAmuChan 2 0
Literature
Torturous Life
Calm down your cars
Don't head to bars
There's too many scars
Look at your face
Is this your place
Do you need some space?
Are there too many memories
Too many felonies
Screaming "please, save me!"
Is this an joke?
There's so much smoke
You're going to choke
Want to lay down
Where there's no sound
Well, that's out of bounds
Life isn't fair
Do you know or care?
So much to bear
You need someone
Feel like you're done
War can never be won
Go rest your head
Time for bed
When you're just dead
:iconColdAmuChan:ColdAmuChan
:iconcoldamuchan:ColdAmuChan 0 0
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:iconalexkjones10123:
AlexKJones10123 Featured By Owner Oct 12, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
What do I do,the only folder I can submit to is featured?
Reply
:iconascendantliche:
AscendantLiche Featured By Owner Oct 19, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Hi. I would just like to ask; when I try to submit a poem, the only folder that is available is "Featured". Should I submit to this folder, or has something broken on my end?

Thank you for your time.
Reply
:iconcluelessllama13:
CluelessLlama13 Featured By Owner Nov 29, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
Hi. I don't really write. I don't even like writing very much, but I wrote this poem kinda out of nowhere, and I feel like I should share it with people because I feel like it's something everyone should learn/know. I honestly feel kind of funny taking credit for it, even though I know I wrote it. My mom says I was "inspired" or something.. Anyway, this poem really helped me through depression from about age 14-16. I figure there has to be some reason for it. So I want it to help others like it did me (and a few others I've shared it with) if possible.
Bottom line, I don't want to join any group I'm not going to contribute much to. But I wondered if I could somehow submit it or something anyway?
I realize this sounds pretty cheesy and pathetic, but I'm honestly just trying to save you an inactive member more than anything by asking this. I would suggest it as a fav, but I feel like that's almost cheating... I dunno.
The actual poem is right here [link] if you'd like to read it. If I'm totally breaking the rules here, I completely understand. I merely want to throw it out there in hopes that it could benefit someone else. Thanks.
Reply
:iconhaiku-san:
Haiku-san Featured By Owner Oct 11, 2012
Sure is crowded here- any chance of putting up more folders since the only one able to submit to is full?
Reply
:iconraeraetearoha:
RaeraeTearoha Featured By Owner Aug 26, 2012
Hello to all - =)
I am new to DeviantArt & online Poetry altogether really, though I have been writing for quite a long time...
Just a quick question...?
What exactly do I do here?
Sorry for such a stupid question.
Reply
:iconvampobsessed:
VampObsessed Featured By Owner Jul 30, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Hello to all of my fellow writers. I've recently finished my novel and am trying to find representation. Finding an agent/publisher is hard for a first time author.

I have created a webpage with my poetry and short stories available. I will be adding more soon and keeping everyone updated on the status of my novel and the publishing world.

Please join my webpage and help support me. If I can prove I have interested people in my work I feel as though I have a much higher chance at success.

[link]
Reply
:iconkatara11111:
katara11111 Featured By Owner Jan 16, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Folder Full D:
Reply
:icondominusvobiscum:
DominusVobiscum Featured By Owner Nov 24, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
I wanted to submit a poem of mine titled "The Artisan," but because it will only let us submit to featured, and because the featured folder is full, I can no longer submit to the group. Is there any way to get around this?
Reply
:iconxpeople1:
xpeople1 Featured By Owner Sep 14, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
Hi... when I try to upload something into a folder other than featured it won't let me. Do you know why?
Reply
:iconstasher-dragon:
stasher-dragon Featured By Owner Nov 22, 2011  Hobbyist General Artist
We let them know a while ago and it hasn't been fixed. :(
Reply
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