And what have they but softly spoken words?

Upon ears like cold rain from sunny skies

And what a contradiction; what they are

is naught more than a child's wish to fly

@ubiquituous, I love the iambic rhythm of the first line. What a marvelous opening--it hooked me right away. The remainder of the poem is dreamily mysterious, with a gentleness I found attractive.

No ... Not dreamy. It's something else. A sort of lyrical smoothness combined with ideas that are intellectually sophisticated.

@Annie thank you so much!!

Go,

See with eyes unclouded

Through a clear window

With dusty window sills

The world you barely know

Continues,

Regardless of your mindless thoughts

You watch, eyes dull

Fingers rarely twitch

As tragedy and romances

Bloomed on a warm spring day

Yet frigid winter blew in your eyes

Familiar faces come by

Hands fervently wavung

Filled with comings and goings

Some with meaning, some with none

Your toes curl at the edge of your feet

Hours later--

Time is ticking

A depression sets out

Stars burst,

Infecting the skies

As you watched everything

Unfold like a mat

Ten times folded

A spark is kindled in you

More hours pass--

Time's a flicker

A crescent moon

Rolls to the open sky,

Hardly full

A sliver of silver shining

Down on a patch of green

Frozen feet meet cold tiles

Shivers crawling bit by bit

A soft sound escapes your lips

You look out again

Diamonds crash

A split second only

Wishes slipping out of clogged eara

Then when frigid dew drops,

Close to arctic ice,

Meet bare feet

Chilly airs caress

Touching like feathers brushing

Your eyes no longer dull

So go,

See with eyes unclouded,

Thirsty to drink immortal stars

Dear @persistentWillow4292, the rhythmic language is majestic---wow. And the last three lines knocked me out. Loved this!

@persistentWillow4292, if you meant "waving" I can correct it for you.

@Annie ah yes I didn't see that

Dark clouds forming,

Umbrellas opening up--

Harmonized rainfall.

There are moments when

Feeling small I grasp

For breath that alludes me.

I clutch at thoughts, moods,

Unable to contain, restrain,

Live.

There are days when

The task of breathing

Becomes the the toll,

The inevitability of sighing.

There are hours when

Everything becomes balanced

On the tip of my head

And that everything floods

My saturated mind.

In these moments,

These days and hours,

I submit to the breaths,

The sighs and the flood,

And as if for the first time

In eternity

I live alive,

Awake.

Dear @Parker3247, this language is beautiful and complex, and I think I will find more in it every time I read it!

If I could turn back the precious time,

treasure every moment like its dime.

I know we won't be all fine,

But it would all be worth a while.

If I made better decisions,

Won't end up in this bad vision.

Work hard on my revision,

It's all about precision.

If I had the bravery that I have right now,

Will I be able to take a bow,

On the stage that I was once allowed.

If I could hold on tight to you, would we get it through?

Or would you understand from my point of view?

Or just walked away as if the wind blew you.

But now it's gone,

The line was drawn,

The past I've to move on,

Let's await for what has come upon.

Hi, @BraveSunKim! i really like the meaning and message here. These are important questions.

For me, this poem would work so well as a performance piece, with those strong rhymes.

@BraveSunKim

You summed up my story i this poem I been this way aim i this siituation now Its very enlightening to know iam not the only one who has expereeinced pin like this, I wish I I could go back in time and use it idalize the time to better myself maybe i make diffrent decions

Unlike the rest,

My youth isn't the best.

Studying day and night,

Making sure I get it right.

It's a step to success,

But I'm full of stress.

Thinking about what's best,

For the future, I guess.

But in the process,

realized that I'm depress.

In my mind, it's a mess.

By then, I knew,

My youth is almost gone, more or less.

Dear @Kikinana, I'm convinced that this poem will resonate strongly with every student who is struggling to keep up and to succeed. You've touched a universal nerve.

The strong beat and persistent rhymes give punch, I think, and would make his poem really stand out at a poetry performance.

Sworn fealty

Steel was shimmering in the sun
Blood stains rested on our swords
Remains of the battle we had won
With pride we could return to our lords

The victory was finally ours
Yet there was not a smile to be found
Seconds seemed like hours
As we stood there without a sound

Meaningful looks were exchanged
As we counted our losses
You'd think we were deranged
As we obediently ran back to our bosses

Many of our friends had died
At the hands of our enemy
They left loving families behind
I fulfill my role dreadfully

With a heavy heart I carry the body bags
Filled with our lost brothers
The lords treat them like old rags
Not even a proper funeral, no one bothers

Our lords arrive at the gate
Hesitantly I bend my knee
To the bastards I wholeheartedly hate
Someday I'll break free

For now I'll just play along
Waiting for the perfect opportunity
Singing a silent grieving song
While I punish them for their unforgivable cruelty

@Cheeney

Once again, I really enjoy reading your poem. This one really has a good flow because of the alternate rhyme and meter (even though I don't know which meter to be honest). For me it creates a wonderful flow in you poem that makes it easy to read and kind of just lets your mind slide through the lines.

Is this poem about the Medieval Ages?
Because it really reminds me of those times when I read it. The style also blends with the Medieval times.

Does it take place in a specific country or time? I really am curious about it :)

@FaithForTheWin Thank you so much!

Yes, it is about the medieval ages. I wrote this one right after watching Game of Thrones so that might have had something to do with it
What inspired me was when Bran said ''if we can't even protect our own bannermen, why should they protect us''. I imagine it being like this too in medieval times. Everyone fought for a lord, many of them forced, others because they had sworn fealty. They looked to them for protection but the lords in return used them when they needed to fight wars.
Time period, well, I've always loved the Late Middle Ages, this would take place in the 15th century.

@Cheeney, the two opening lines just slayed me. I could see the swords! And the concept of the blood "resting" on the blade, that made me pause and think ....

Yes, pun intended :)

@Annie Haha, thank you so much!

A pun filled life is a fun filled life!

Bit of poetry I wrote (currently untitled):

Give me your careless words and your thoughtless comments,

I will breathe them away and leave the skeletons hanging there.

I cant take everything, you know. Im only the wind.

Still, Ive whirled away your teasing, your bullying,

your arrows that you shoot straight into others hearts.

I can create deafening silence with my faint, hushed voice,

dissolving words in my gentle sighs,

but the arrows remain.

The children you called fat, dumb, weird -

you cracked their vessels and I slipped in.

And when you shut them out, told them they werent good enough -

you stabbed them, hard, and I cooled the wound.

Your harsh, grating laughs rang in their ears,

reverberating in their dreams.

I cant take everything, you know. Im only the wind.

Im not strong enough to patch the vessels,

pull out the knives,

wipe away the laughs,

and heal all the wounds youve given them.

Still, I collect the words and bequeath my whispers,

whispers that echo the horror of your torments.

I caressed the hair of the little children

who sat outside where the grass tickled their bony knees

and mimicked my whispers to convince themselves

of the well-known myth:

Sticks and stones may break my bones…

but words will never hurt me.

@04yellowboat19 Hi, I can see what's called a conceit here - which is an extended metaphor. It's when you take two things that are opposites, or are not the same in this case, put them together and create a poem with them. So I'm thinking that you've chosen the bullying and the wind. I like that this is from the point of view of the wind. In terms of a title, you could come up with one, or alternatively, you can also choose to just use the first line of the poem perhaps. In the end it seems that you don't believe on the well-know myth - am I correct in this assumption? I've enjoyed your poem.

Dear @04yellowboat19, this poem has an intense impact. (And I'm one of those who almost never uses the word "impact" because I think it should be reserved for things like cars colliding, meteors hitting the earth, and that kind of thing.)

The gentleness of the speaker to the bully -- yowza. How unexpected and compelling.

The telling of how the speaker cooled the wounds of the injured ones and ruffled their hair when they had been stabbed hard and shut out -- it's heart-stinging.

The description of the speaker's helpless inability to pull out the knives -- and the harsh, grating laughs ringing in their ears and reverberating in their dreams -- oh, just kick me in the guts.

I've read this poem several times and actually couldn't respond for a while, the impact was that powerful.

(breathing in slowly, breathing out slowly)

@04yellowboat19 myth indeed! I loved this... amazing!

(Trigger Warning. self-harm, relationship abuse)

My Everything

I'm madly in love with you.

My mind replays the image of your face

like a broken tape.

I'm infatuated by you.

The way you wrap your arms around me;

how soothing it is!

I'm obssessed with you.

Thoughts of you cut me endlessly,

and sometimes I don't want to stop.

You're madly in love with me,

never leaving my side,

only tailing me like a dog.

You are infatuated by me.

You look at me every single day,

whispering sayings into my ears.

You're obssessed with me.

And you're stuck to me like a gum.

It pained me to get rid off you.

When I think about you:

You're a grim cloud,

looming over my head.

You're the knife

that slashes my wrists.

You're my broken mixtape,

playing over and over.

You're my lover and my mistress

who I can't let go.

Yet--

You're my everything,

but I want you to become nothing.

You're my depression,

but I want you to be my vitality.

You're my illness,

but I want you to be my cure.

Why are you my everything

when you are really nothing?

@persistentWillow4292 wow this is incredible, you've put in words exactly what I'm feeling. Thanks for posting this this is great!

@persistentWillow4292

this poem brought tears to my eyes, really good

@persistentWillow4292

truer than true of the truest torture there is.

As I stand

Conduct the band

The music we play

Could sadden each day

As I look

Down at my book

The words stare back

And laugh at my lack

Music of tomorrow

We play with sorrow

Reflecting my thoughts

On the sheets we brought

My mind is calm

As my palms

Move swiftly

It seems misty

We must play on

The intro far gone

Together we play

Til the end of all days

First Love

I loved her at a time

when I felt unloved,

unlovable.

When everyone but her proffered advice but little support,

change in a world of flux,

when I yearned for stability.

But my hunger was dagger-sharp and deep.

and its wounds were found in her reticence,

in her down-turned eyes.

So I distanced myself while there was still love to cherish,

A pinpoint on the horizon, like a twinkling star.

but I seek it yet,

in hotel lobbies and airport terminals,

among the arrivals and reunions,

The embraces with bouquet laden arms.

I study the farewells with the promises of return,

And grieve the passion that has vanished,

of a love flown, never to recur.

@2genpoet this is beautiful! and yet, a love flown is love nevertheless?

@2genpoet

I adore the phrase "dagger-sharp and deep"!

She waiting on God to help her,

Waiting for him to send her his love

Waiting on him to send help from above

waiting for his mercy for thins she has done wrong

waiting for him to help her move on

waitimg for him to tell her the truth

waiting for him to help her through

waiting for him to give her a sign

waiting on him to tell her everythings going to be fine

waiting on him to give her his love

waiting , just waiting, wnderinmg if he will come through tis time

hoping he is there and that he still cares.

@pureatheart25, what I like about this poem is the repetition of "waiting ... waiting" and then the sudden switch in the last line to "hoping." Very effective!

I know that I have done wrong but I only did those things to help someone

to help them be safe from waht danger awaits them

I know that you have to give to receive but Ithink I have given to my handsbleedwhy shpoukd I punish for things that I think aree right

whats the point of having free will if you can say whats on your mind

I have tobe myself even if it not what others like

Iam not going to change jsut to fit in

I think that the biggest sin you can make towards your self develoment

Iam not anyones hereo just myself hereo cuz man if soemone goes through helll they deserve to be in heaven , I want that mooment when I found my self to return

if I cant be me iam not having any fun

You can get mad at me for the way that iam I cnt let go of this person I ahve become if you want me to you shalkl be shun

sorry about misspeled words I was feeling like down and I as in th zone lol of wriiting

@pureatheart25,

The statement "I have given until my hands bleed" was very powerful to me.

I don't need a teacher anymore

unless that teacher is wise

I don't think I should take pointers

from a person who doesn't have a life

if you are a bad person don't give me advice,

find yourself someone to help you through your life

and leave mine alone,

man I hate in-laws

dont get me wrong mine are great its jsut they try to control every apect of my life