OUR ORIGINAL POETRY: Share It Here
Hello there everyone!
If you're reading this it means that you probably are quite fond of poetry and writing it to. This is a thread to post all and any poetry that you may have, be it happy, sad, angry or just silly. All styles are welcome (free verse, couplets, slam) and it would be great to have at least one poem up a day for all of us to enjoy together!!
This is a poem I wrote for an English project:
I was supposed to write a poem describing Juliet from Romeo and Juliet, with two different perspectives. So, this is Juliet by Juliet:
Parting is such sweet sorrow,
as I see you leave each bright night.
The sky is full of stars, shining so full.
I stare up at them, as I say,
Welcomed vs. Wanted
All my life I thought I was working for the right thing.
Pushing myself, proving myself, beating myself up
Just to be wanted.
Wanted.
Such a seductive word.
Such a deceiving word.
It sounded immediate, desperate.
Like you really were important.
Like craving was a compliment.
Until you remember junk food cravings arent healthy.
The same way putting yourself out there, to get people's approval that you crave so much
just to realize your value is unhealthy.
And I craved it. I desired for it.
Like how you'd crave to have a fix of cocaine -- or even just a bag of chips.
But we all know how those highs are temporary.
Like how your false compliments give me temporary highs.
Calling me babe, telling me I'm beautiful -- but only when I strip naked. Your lips dripping with honey so you can get your fill out of me.
We crave each other. We want each other.
The difference is...I actually welcome you.
Hoping that you will welcome me someday,
eventually
sometime soon....
Only to realize...
you only welcome me
when I'm dressed like a harlot.
Or when I worship you and give my undivided attention and time and effort
to YOU.
But to me....
you're only focused on my flesh, and my words that butter up your swollen ego.
And now I'm like those crack-heads...
Unable to stop the self abuse
of giving in from being wanted.
Not knowing that all my life
What I wanted was to be welcomed.
Accepted and acknowledged.
Not just by words but by actions too.
A feeling of safety and security
It can be love in its purest form
Without the sex or the lust
Just that welcoming presence
Without the need to prove yourself
I thought that was free of charge,
But it took me the price of
too many losses
and one major abuse
that led to a string of other heartbreaks
to realize
that THAT IS what I want.
If I knew it all along,
maybe I wouldn't have tried so hard
to be someone I wasnt even sure was me.
Or be with people that just wanted something from me.
But it's so rare...
Almost unreal,
that another person would welcome me just as I am.
That I have to face this world
as a living nightmare until I die.
@weepingartist
i love the awareness of the false self vs the true self in the poem
and wanted to be loved for who you really are
poetry is a way of catharsis to express who your true self is and to
rid yourself of all your masks
@2genpoet
this is sweet
thank you...
know that your words landed on my heart
among the good things i felt today.
nothing like healthy doses to remind me
this is what good is.
you are worth my tears.
@weepingartist
I Give You my Tears
i may be worth your tears
leave them plesae to dry
i have no wont for them
i wish to be worth
your smile, your joy, your embrace
so leave the tears to dry
and bring me your love
@2genpoet
that might take a while.
my love has run dry.
from this person that i have given my last.
it's gonna take a while to refill, and properly share with others.
at least i know now what being welcomed feels like.
from my therapists and you
and the community here too.
but nothing hurts like the realization,
that the person you want most to welcome you
only takes joy in your presence
when you sit there and be as two-dimensional as possible.
my heart is slow and weak
and as much as i want to let go
i feel like i will shatter if i do.
it takes so much time.
i'm scared that runs out
before i set myself free
to love the good people that knows
what welcoming is.
Faceless Imprint
I'm dreaming again
Of that, faceless man
With his cold hands,
That reunite again with my skin,
Like a never ending plain
He leaves me barren and cold,
I'm not comprehending why his hands are not leaving
Like they were told,
No!
My screams shake the room
My tears begin to spell fear
I think, I'm shutting down again
I'll just crawl inside my cage and disappear,
You're just another one
That craves the taste of fear
Alone with you is my worst nightmare
Yet!
Here we are
Your fingers reaching for the imprint that isn't there yet,
Erased
After your little taste,
A forgotten thought that was never said
You'll remember while I break the memory
To forget
Retreat
Leave
Return
Again
Leave the blemish
So...
Forget, I can't
@angelteen
very scary poem - expresses the panic and fear
try to create the feeling of panic using images
for example you write
Like a never ending plain
He leaves me barren and cold,
you can make this line even stronger by writng for example
Like Winter's wind-swept plain
He leaves me barren and cold,
and you give the reader an image to hold onto
After all this time
A drink, a scream
An enraged outburst
After all this time again
Another bruise left unseen
A punch, a kick
A painful expression
After all this time again
Another day calling in sick
An apology, a forced smile
A shed tear
After all this time again
Asking herself if it's worthwhile
A new beginning, a fresh start
A false hope
After all this time again
Anchored in her heart
A 'single' drink, a trip to the bar
A path travelled excessively
After all this time again
Addicted they both are
@Cheeney Wow, I really enjoy reading this poem over and over again. It somehow manages to make me feel the persona of the poem even though I never experienced such a situation before.
I guess the best part about this poem is the well used parallelism that manages to deliever the feelings to the reader very well.
Thank you for your awesome poems, I really love reading them :)
@Cheeney this is amazing
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.
