Verse Fear Poems

These Verse Fear poems are examples of Verse poems about Fear. These are the best examples of Verse Fear poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Verse |
AM  I ?

Am I Just Standing Here, or Am I Just Dead?
Am I So Full Of Fear, I Lost Myself Instead?

Am I A Nobody, that you can't defend me?
OR
Am I Just Invisible, and you really don't pretend.

Am I Blind, Or I Just Don't Wish To See?
The Love I Cannot Find Is Right In Front Of Me!

Am I Hearing the Truth,
Or Have I Just Been Deceived?
Who Can I Trust?
Who Can I Believe?

Am I So Mad I Just Can't Understand,
Or Am I So Sad I Need A Shoulder And A friend?

Is It Just Me, 
Or Am I All Alone?

***

I wrote this poem 22 years ago
I was pregnant, scared and alone:-( 

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013




Details | Free verse |
My sweet little Teddy Bear...
Mommy gave 'YOU' to me
Now I never sleep alone at night
The comfort you gave, when God's sunny eyes ran out of light

You are my sweet little teddy bear... 
You kept me company throughout the years
I hugged you, when my eyes were full of tears
Loving you, squeezing you
We both express many joyful dance of cheers
Together we sang lullabies, without you singing one single word
We drank from the same teacup, whispered about the pretty birds
Now listen, as I mumble extra words into your ear
My sweet Teddy Bear, you are always here

We snuggled every night staring at the star frame window
"You held my hand when I was lost in my own imaginary limbo

My sweet little Teddy Bear...
I'm 11 now, and my mother loves me dearly
Sadly, she felt it's time to find me a daddy
Little does she knows, my daddy visits every night in my dreams

Shhhhhh!!!
Now her boyfriend visits my room and tells me not to scream
Little Teddy bear, I never showed you fear before I fell asleep
Little Teddy bear, tonight I do not want to count sheep
Teddy bear, now I hold you closer and tighter than before
Little Teddy Bear let me cover your ears, from the screeching door
Little Teddy Bear, he said he would hurt mommy If I tell anyone
Little Teddy Bear, I know you see and hear everything!!!

by; pd
You're A Little Kid Again (contest)
The View of an 11 year old

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012

Details | Blank verse |
Thirty Eight ( Corny Cancer Poem) For Sharon

Hallmark has a million cards in their catalog
And not one of them says,
Life Sucks
American greetings had nothing that says
Thirty-eight and  Never coming home
So I hope it’s not too late to write this poem


After your eighth round of Chemo,
The Doctor says the best medicine is prayer
Any Pre-med drop out
Or High school Health student
Can interpret what this means
But it still just isn’t fair-


           Still who am I to be a pessimist?


And I apologize for screaming at your surgeons
(Telling  them to stop comparing 
your tumors to fruit)
For telling them you aren’t a damn fruit stand
Even for tossing those fruit diagrams 
In the Hazmat can

Sorry if I let things get out of hand

Tomorrow they get to pull out
Their zapper instruments
And shoot at your cells like you are
One of those Nintendo video games
Over and over again
And I get to sit in the waiting room
Hoping the red cells surrender
And the white ones win

  
And Tylenol has a zillion dollars
And can’t even find a cure for cancer
Bayer pharmaceuticals has no answer

And if you die at thirty-eight
I’ll probably boycott Tylenol
For the next twenty-three years
Advil for the next twenty-two
Blaming both of them
For not saving you


Forty calls to Bayer pharmaceuticals 
And not a single one returned
What kind of heroes are they
When they aren’t even concerned?


And I’m pissed off at Obama
And Dr. Phil and Oprah too
And all Nationally syndicated talk show host
Who are talking about who slept with who
When they should be talking about 
YOU


I’m also ticked at a thousand Nazis
And twenty millions gangbangers 
And eight-hundred serial killers
Who have working organs
When all you need is just one-


Still I know you wouldn’t even accept it
Even if there was a law that said you could
And you would say something corny like
God loves bad people as much
As he does the good

And i wish i could snatch 
half of my lymph nodes
And give them to you
But no Doctor would approve the surgery

So what else can i do
Except write this silly poem for you
except watch you lose weight and hair
And listen to doctors suggest prayer

And more chemo only means
More Hallmark moments at the hospital
And more crying, more dying
More doctors and chaplains lying


But mostly I’ll never get to figure out
How it took you thirty minutes
At Build-A-Yogurt in the mall
And they only had six flavors-
Even after I told you
Chocolate Coconut Sprinkle
 Was really the best of all


Tonight your children get to sleep in your bed
And pretend You’re coming home
And I get to cry for them and finish
This corny cancer poems

Copyright © Poet M.e. | Year Posted 2015




Details | Free verse |
Walls of silence hold,
 Me prisoner,
The child held within,
 Cries out for release.
Relative solitude comforts, 
Not the tortured soul,
Inward coiling withdrawing,
 Deep inside. 
Shedding its outer skins,
 Protective
Layer thus preserving its,
 Inner being.
Innocents shroud lies in ruins.
Gentle spirit, cast aside wings,
 Damaged appendages.
The fallen angel kneels in,
 Shame,
Shadows before mankind.
Unanswered prays rest upon,
 Deaf ears.
Muted sobs, echo on stilled,
 Winds breath.
Hardening to stone, the
 Chilled heart
 Reflects frozen repose.
Forgotten amongst mine own,
 Kindred,
Childhood symbolizes a betrayed,
 Victim’s refuge.
Small fragile hands reach out,
 Into nothingness,
Hollow space grasping into,
 Oblivion.
Chained shackles twist,
 Imaginations warped view,
Somber tones cloud troubled,
 Thoughts.
Amidst life's trials, I'm aimlessly,
 Adrift,
Without any form of stability.
I, alone remain shambles,
 Wreckage.
Displaced and damaged,
Beyond repair.
A broken doll thrown away,
By those who should have, 
Cared for her the most.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
It looks like a simple brownstone building,
Not much different then any other but it’s residents,
Are of the haunted kind, not made of flesh and bone.
In every window a wind chime stirs, gently caressed by
A chilling winds icy finger tips, after all this is known as
The house of spirits.
Witchery or voodoo’s domain, it is a place of salvation for
Spiritual challenged, listen to the beautiful music they make,
Singing within this their walled cage of brick and mortar, these
Ethereal victims lost.
Here in peace they wait for the light to find them, a waiting chamber,
Of the lords misstep souls, those whom walked off the righteous path,
Yet are not without redemptions wanton of need.
Wanders of limbo’s astral plain, seekers whom roam blindly until 
Finding a doorway threshold, then crossing over, into this the house
Of spirits.
A corridors slender passageway, a way stations layover for those tired
And weary travelers to rest until their final journey’s end comes for them,
Sanctuaries power house of the supernatural.
Behind these red doors dare not the mortal flesh clasp the gilded knockers,
For within are things of the unspoken variety, creature protectors waiting at
Bay for the stray intruder to wander forth upon this sacred ground.
Angels kindred brethren whom seek out evil, destroyers patrolling the
Darker shadows for night stalkers whom wish to feast upon the forsaken.
But light’s white power is a mightier force to be reckoned with, and vanquished
Will the devils spawn into the depths from which they came, into the bowels
Of hell shall these demons be thrown into the blackened pit from which they came?
In the twilight’s ethereal hour, a mid-ways breaking point between light and dark,
A shimmering glow strikes this standing watch tower of abandonment’s forgotten,
And heaven’s flood gates are opened unto them, calling these the lost upwards
Towards nirvana and at last know true peace.
It looks like a simple brownstone building,
Not much different then any other but it’s residents.
Are of the haunted kind, not made of flesh and bone.
In every window a wind chime stirs, gently caressed by
A chilling winds icy finger tips, after all this is known as
The house of spirits.

BY; CHERYL ANNA DUNN

 

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |
Your reflection is a liar
It makes no confessions 
The image reaches within
Cold fingers claw at your mind
A mirrored smile
Taunts you
Haunts you
No words spoken
Yet you hear screaming in your head
You reach out your hands
Palms joined on glass
No warmth transfers as you touch
You stare at the illusionary you
Looking back from his backward land
A place without air
Yet it is you who cannot breath
Together you bang on the glass
Cracks appear
You cut your right hand 
Blood trickles down his left wrist
As he licks it off you taste it on your lips
There it is again
That smile
Perhaps it's a smirk
What does he know
Fear rises from within
You turn to walk away
Hair rises on your neck
The sound of shattered glass
As the pieces of you fall
You were never here
All these people you used to be
Shards of glass upon the floor

Nathan's Mirror Contest

Kind of freaky it matches one of your pictures, I wrote this a while ago.

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse |
It's so simple,
So basic,
Yet we lack it.
Interaction is nothing without it.
Unable to make a bond because the fact is,
We've missed the point.
The point that connects you and me,
And not just on a family tree;
That connects us all from A to Z,
And not just on eHarmony.

Trust.

Where did it go?
Or did we even have it years ago?
Afraid to go on the right track,
Because we might get stabbed in the back.
Locking our doors and checking it twice,
Like we're Santa Clause on a Christmas blight.
Putting a lock on our phone for protection,
Because your friends may use it as a weapon.
Hiding what belongs to us,
Because we lost our trust in all our lust.
But trusting each other is a must,
Because you cant spell trust without us.

Trust.

A firm belief in the reliability,
Truth,
Ability,
Or strength in someone.
Can you think of anyone?
I am sure you can,
Maybe the one that holds your hand.
But for how long?
I'm sorry but it's true,
People can back-stab you.
But this can change starting with you,
Because if you trust people,
They'll trust you.
You may get hurt but at least you'll live,
With your heart on your sleeve and something to give.

So let's break this cycle of deceit and start this world anew.
It doesn't start with them,
It starts with you.
Trust someone and you will see,
How great this world could be,
For you and me.
It's not that hard so don't make it be,
It's only the fear of the possibility,
Of losing everything.
Don't fear,
Trust.

Copyright © David Neuman | Year Posted 2014

Details | Verse |
Behind those beautiful eyes,
So much anger,so much mistrust,
Always expecting the worst,
Always conversing about the bad
things life has to offer,

Behind those beautiful eyes,
So much hurt,so much pain,
Bottled up bad experiences overflowing,
Crying to be unleashed,to be released,

Behind those beautiful eyes,
High expectation,countless plans,
Many things to still achieve,
So many things you still haven't done,

Behind those beautiful eyes,
Is a body,searching for comfort,
A mind,searching for peace,
And a heart searching for true love,

All behind those beautiful eyes.....

Copyright © Richard Palmer | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |
I walk and walk, without talking to anyone,
I walk here and there, to avoid their stares, 
their scowls, their “poor lady” pity -
Do they know I used to be pretty? 
Now I’m just a dirty nothing, dirty whore, 
I walk till I can’t walk anymore. 

I have no place to be, no place to go.
I sit for a moment when I find a spot,
a park bench, a doorway,
the outer corner of a parking lot
But someone always comes around
and looks at me with that disdainful frown,
I walk. I walk so I won’t get caught
I walk away looking down at the ground. 

I feel so ashamed. There’s nowhere I can hide.
I try, though, I try.  I stand in long lines
to find a decent place to sleep for the night,
but decent places are hard to find.
I’d rather lie in the dirt at the downtown park
than fear the rats that nibble in the dark 
in bug-infested rooms with urine-stained mattresses.

I eat my food real fast, then hurry on my way,
before some men come around
and try to pressure me to stay.
I live in fear for my life every night, 
It’s like a fist that hovers over me, constantly, 
Like the fist he used on me that day, 
my body beaten; the bruises have faded away. 
I walk. I walk, to get away from the pain. 

I sleep in a doorway, in an alley down the street.
I’ve nothing but these filthy clothes, 
and the shoes on my feet, 
and I’m ok with being dirty, let me stink,  
I hope I stink!
Maybe it will keep the stinking men away from me,
so I can try to get some sleep, rest my aching feet. 

And then, when daylight comes again,
in the sunshine or the rain
I’ll walk and walk ... 
to get away from the pain. 


Inspired by Tom's "Being Homeless" contest 

Facts: 
Domestic violence is a leading cause of homelessness for women and their children. (nedv.org)
According to VAWnet.org, “Homeless women … are particularly vulnerable to multiple forms of victimization including forced, coerced, or manipulated sexual activity.”  

Copyright © Becca Teagan | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
I write each letter by hand in careful cursive. 
I want every sentence to be pretty,
to look feminine and delicate -
to soften the ugliness you face everyday.
After each line, I let the ink dry.
You don't deserve smudges.
You don't deserve any of this.

My words are foolish, 
full of meaningless descriptions
of meaningless events. 
But I can't sit here at this polished desk -
in this cozy room in this quiet house 
on this peaceful street
and write what I'm really thinking.
I can't be selfish.

So I keep writing my careful cursive
on my pretty stationary.
I keep sending my meaningless letters
into the ugly world - to wherever you are.
And no matter how many times
I open the mailbox, I'm never prepared 
for that hideous stamp,
that heartless phrase:
"Return to Sender."


Written: 1/27/2013
For Michael's "Boomerang" contest

Copyright © Heather Ober | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
The rains had come and washed away the old world,
the thunder had banged its drum
with a weary warning ---
' I do not come oft, but I return and weep
and growl a lion's roar ' ---
I will for a brief moment be as a child
and fear again...
the cracks and booms rouse my guilt,
Telemachus would say the gods were going mad...

There is something 'neath the earnest 
thunder-drums which bangs
something-wicked-this-way-comes ---
and fades,
gently rolling away like a sonic carpet

Its change I welcome,
and fear,
and wonder if I was afraid at all,
wonder what deathly grip may one day come ---
suddenly,
or love may guide me through its tumult,
and dark valleys,
with flowers blooming 'neath my faithful feet;
and though I was once afraid
like a boyhood fear ---
startled from my very boots,
I shall miss my old friend thunder,
who reminds I'm quite alive,
and survived I have,
his treacherous thunderclaps,
and his sneaky ways,
my great trickster
(Thunder!)

Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |
 

The family had just moved into an old castle in Scotland; 
mother, father and their only daughter, Emmie, that they loved so deeply. 
Emmie was only 12 years old, and so innocent and beautiful. 
One night, she was woken up by a dripping sound; 
an echoing sound of water drops in a sink; 
rhythmic and terrifying. 
She sat on her bed, and suddenly appeared a free floating arc of strange light. 
It's that time of year again: Halloween night. 
Doors flew open and shut; strange voices and footsteps started. 
She was so frightened, that she almost threw up. 
Emmie made the sign of the cross, and plunged into a thicket of thorny wild roses. 
Terrified, excited and ready to run out of the house in 20 seconds, 
she overheard whispering words: "All beauty must die." 
The voice was so deathly, that it sent chills through her spine. 
It did not make it any better that it sounded too close to her ears. 
Her nightdress being torn by rose thorns like papers in a paper shredder, 
she ran as fast as she could; not back to the old castle, 
but away from the creepy voice, and strange events 
in the old castle. 
Exhausted, she searched for a place she could find rest 
"All beauty must die" the voice visited 
her unceremoniously once more. "What do you want from me? 
Is it wrong to be born beautiful? " 
she asked, wondering where she got her courage from. 
The energy to scream or run departed her, 
the moment she saw a woman dressed in white, 
levitating in the air, and moving towards her; 
a horrid face that carried the night's darkness, 
looked decayed, with worms crawling out from it. 
Remember this is a true story about Emmie; 
she gets chills just remembering the events of that night…… 





Contest: Halloween Co-Writes, By Diane Locksley

Poem Written by: Teddy Kimathi and Anne-Lise Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved 

Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |
Tell me that this fear is just paranoia in my mind, 
we're not straining, we're not struggling, 
we're not sinking, we're just fine. 
I'm not perfect my dearest, but damn have I tried, 
and I'll try harder but I know I'll have the same results every time. 
Do you want me all the ways that I am? 
With all the struggles and the tears and the clinging to your hand. 
I fear your getting further and Im left on the shore to stand, 
watching you in the distance with a bullet in my hand. 
Tell me all this worry, its just clutter in my mind, 
tell me not to worry that we're doing just fine. 
Cause Im scared to run you off and I feel Im falling deep. 
And Im so frightened of these thoughts that its getting hard to sleep.
All I know is that the heart wants what it desires, 
because of you the match inside has turned into a fire. 
And I feel the broken glass thats sticking from my skin, 
Wondering if you'll remove the pain or push it back in. 
My hearts frantic wondering if you feel the same, 
pleading and begging for more than just a saying, 
but to feel and to see that im not alone, 
with being in this love thats overwhelming. 
Once I told you that we didnt have a spark, 
but you were lighting up and I was sitting in the dark. 
And this fire, this blaze its wrapped in desire. 
Im terrified to lose you, I think I might die or, 
maybe disappear from all the pieces falling out, 
im going crazy but when i open my mouth, nothing comes out, 
and I cant explain to you why I just need to hold you close, 
why every time you leave Im scared to let you go, 
why these tears are building up behind my eyes, 
all I know is that the heart wants what it desires 
and it desires to be your wife. 
So tell me in my panic, that your words are true, 
tell my my dearest what I mean to you, 
tell me that this paranoia is all within my mind 
we're not struggling, we're not sinking tell me we're just fine

Copyright © Jay Loveless | Year Posted 2013

Details | Dramatic Verse |
~Marionette Master~    

All my dreams evolve around my wooden floor
Candles and clowns the show must go on

~~~~

The Moon slowly moves its way into my room
Dust pushes through my window making shadow puppets on my walls
The talent on my walls dance, scaring my sweet dreams away
No cradle-songs tonight
Dangling artisans’ fingertips scratching down my core
Exquisite observation, an alley down “Death Street.”
Panic rattles my bone, 
Stuttering a taste of ma' ma' ma' mama' off my lips
Grandfather clock ticks with every pull of the string
Invisible jellyfish puppets swaying their feelers that sting my site
A superior skill eating away at my fear
I can’t breathe, 
I can’t move,
It dangles!
What can I do?
Carved Marionette figures locked in my head
A game in which trickery and deception are the main events
Staged with an evil sinister mask, sanctioning my nightmares. 
No one to rescue me from the danger of this bedside playground.
The puppeteer engages to provoke me with my own dolls.
A dramatic performance throttles my mind ……. 
I cannot come out from under my blanket,  
I cannot run,
My hands cannot reach the circus print lampshades!
A shadow show played in slow motion!!!
Realizing the moon can pull a world of strings with its own light

***

Suddenly, boney fingers from the sunrise show me the way…
I look down until my toes touch the cold wooden floor
I creep and creep,
Then I flick on my lamp.
The purple walls swallowed the orgy drawing inspired by the mooned night
A huge diversity of graphic illusions of puppetry in my room vanishes in one click
Mother please no more Pinocchio in my lullabies! ;-) 

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |
You are the wild flower in my palm
With no stem to keep you anchored to this covetous earth
You are the fragile thing I dare not cup,
As your petals whittle away under the wind
And flit unfettered in the air;
Exaggerated fear leaves my fingers numb
Hungry need leaves my fingers twitching
And my hand is paralyzed by turmoil
As every breath of wind takes another petal from me
And brings to my lungs, my chest and my heart
An overwhelming scent of need-

You are the wild beauty in my palm
And I dare not hold you to my chest
For I fear to crush you
To know first hand
That caged beauty, is beauty no more.

Copyright © Samir Georges | Year Posted 2011

Details | Free verse |
Eve
Does the past really matter?
 Does it set you free? 
I’m absorbed in the sin,
That is surrounding him and me. 

Lost in the curiosity,
Cold to the touch. 
Drenched in the poison,
With my dignity in his clutch.

Feeling like I was cheated;
I chose the evil instead of light.
I traded in the sunshine,
For what lurks in the night. 

I disobeyed his orders,
I gave up security to be unsure.
I went against the warnings,
Gave into darkness instead of remaining pure.

Once my bed was made of soft grass,
But now it is made of stone.
Was plump from all of the luscious fruit,
Now I’m starving to the bone. 

My curse is one of circumstance.
The punishment a crime,
I’m stuck inside this dampened cave,
For the rest of time. 
My world came crashing down,
The grief has not subsided.
My heart broke completely,
When my sons collided. 

My misery a token,
From the abandonment I earned.
Upon the time spent in sorrow,
There was a lesson to be learned.

Have I found the moral?
Only in time we shall see,
For all I did was eat an apple-
From the Knowledge tree. 

Copyright © Alyssa Waters | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse |
A simple scene a nestling seeks the comfort of the night
to lay enthralled, engrossed,  in memories of past days,
the nectar drawn from rivulets that run past blackened lash.

A lidded eye roves left, then right, as if it’s been betrayed
a corner tick, a slight knee twitch, odd choices now made.
The blanket once a comforter now twists so very tight.

A falling dream, a horrid scream, yet no land's in sight.
Bloodless body, writhe, heave, callout, nobody's home
your casing calls, umbilicus, umbilicus, reel me down.

A flying lift of breeze ‘neath hips, a lofting, oh so, high, 
brings soul to ground with sighing sound within the dream,
entranced, aroused, the coming light, the end of night, wake.



First Published in Sweet Dreams and Night Terrors 2013

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |
Life spins out of control…
today I slip into oblivion, floating without roots
over the sun, slowly turning from all I can see,
spinning against the wind, against the earth.
When do I fall?
                    I should be enjoying the ride.
                              I’ve always been afraid to fly…
                                       
 afraid of what’s below and all the spaces between –
                          maybe afraid of me.      
How old will I be when the spinning stops?
I’m getting dizzy, feeling faint…
Minute by minute, I count down – 10, 9, 8…
I’m surely not alone!

Words ground me…yes, I’ll write a poem.
Every letter’s like a hum in my head –
notes in a never ending song.

I’ll write a poem for you and only you.
A poem you’ll never read
               because you think you know me.

You think you know my song.
Perhaps, if you took the time to really read,
you’d find a little piece of me…carry it in your pocket
like a treasure to behold.

I’m spinning out of control…you don’t know, you don’t see.

Only God knows why…help me God enjoy the ride.    

Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

I balance on a tightrope. Surrounded by 
lovers and dreamers, I teeter above a raging sea.
I admire their glossy smiles and envy
their bright-eyed confidence; envy is a sin, I know.
Please forgive me; a lie would carry more guilt.
The waves crash in dark shades of gray, still they smile.
Their laughter from all around pierces the thin air.
I teeter alone; I may or may not fall.
My fate is undetermined, in my own hands;
the tragedy today may be tomorrow's comedy.
Their laughter echoes...
On a day like today, the fresh tears sting. 
If only I could wake from the nightmare,
pry open the windows of my tortured soul.
If only I could charm the feral...if only.
Oh, the skeletal monsters we are bequeathed!
Yes, I understand the meaning of loyalty.
A fool believes the wicked will fall.
A fool believes the merciless will change.
Can a hollow chest develop a beating heart?
I chisel stone walls, searching for a glimmer of hope,
a flicker of humanity behind steel beams.
Could you spare a token of remorse?
I dare to drop a coin in a fountain of wishes.
A pocketful of coins jingle as my wishes sink
to the bottom of the venomous waters. 
I am patient as I teeter on the tightrope.
The audience cheers taking pleasure in my pain.
Blood pulsates through my veins, yet I feel cold winds
penetrate my soul. I refuse to cower or
live in contention... 
Blood is thicker than ink. 
I find my balance in the written word, a gift of life! 
Words sometimes spill from a bleeding heart.
I beseech the ghosts of the past to end their haunting.
Their breath is the frigid wind. I find shelter...
Tempered is the skin of the wounded. Who knows
what may lie beneath the flesh. In the mirror,
you may find a frightened child in need of love.
Most find the strength to balance and stand.
Every step brings me closer to solid ground...
I am reaching for you. Please take my hand.

Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |
                                             **For Ruben O, My little Bro**

(This poem was written and a recording made for the contest sponsored by Team Poetrysoup which was deleted before it was judged.  I wonder if this would have received a placement?)

Alarming, how analog clocks can tock back, 
sound-off each morning like those hungover barflies 
at the laundromat who dive-bomb 

buzzing dryers as bleached belles 
in heels attack threadbare tiles 
with a stomach-turning, M60 click clack, 

click clack. All night cafes fare 
no better, terrify with their red-eyed twit-ter-
to-woo owls, their jingle-jangle spoons.

Heartlessly, the freaky knock-knock joke 
of a barista smacks-down the expresso machine —
grounds for a massacre behind the counter.

The plink-plunk of rainfall deafens.
Birthdays send you into a panic.  Too risky,
the onslaught of jubilation,  the grenades that wait

in overblown balloons. New Year’s Eve brings histrionics.   
Nightmarish, the yellow chimeras of construction
and every screaming chick-a-dee-dee-dee...

Ear plugs are a given.  
Heaven is a soundproof room.
Even that plan holds more than a hiccup or two.

Horror resounds everywhere.  
Babies thunder by in hot-rod strollers. 
Frightening: the gurgles, giggles, ear-splitting rattles. 

In the nursing home, an awful rasp of life    
roars behind a tissue-thin curtain,
the horrendous lisp of oxygen, so deathly loud.






Copyright © Cyndi MacMillan | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
=0= In the darkness fluidly My dreams bleed I see you in the shadows Watching silently Feeding my hunger Quenching my ache for insanity In my weakest hour Even when i close my eyes Your vision is still haunting me The picture is black and perfect People stare with empty eyes Not one dares to look for the truth Behind there own disguise Ugliness ovewhelms me Cruelness calls me in Nightmares fill my space, No breaking them tonight A numbness invades my mind Thoughts of being your angel of darkness I long to know what's beyond this time I cry like an orphaned child My heart skips a beat As you sing for me a lullaby Of darkness and crimson good-byes My walk on the dark side Your disappearing now Ripped away You stole me away last night Come back from behind the mirror Make your darkness my reality. =0=

Copyright © Tracie Edwards | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |
When your world darkens
When your will gets shattered
When your fire becomes weak
when your strings get cut
When your heart gets broken
When your about to give in

Think of why you have come this far
Think of why your fire is still burning 
Let it fuel you, let it ignite your soul
No matter what the world throws at you
No matter how bad you hurt, and want to give up
You must never give in and submit

Get up and take back control
Push yourself to the limits, never falter, never surrender
Pick up the pieces, get new strings, ignite yourself 
Make the darkness fear your will of fire, for you pain is temporary
The darkness will burn, it will weaken
Your will of fire will guide you and others out of the dark and into a new dawn


Copyright © Unknown Unknown | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
Today has to be the strangest day of my life,
the arms that hold me tight say that I'm his wife.

I wish I could feel something for this stranger,
I'm so scared and terrified I feel like my life is 
in danger.

Who is the man? How did I get here?
Why does he look at me like that? He almost 
seems sincere.

Oh my God there it is again an overwhelming 
feeling of fear,
My head is screaming really loud get me
out of here.

Who am I? Who is he? I can't be his wife
because I don't even know him or me.......



Alexis Y.

Copyright © Alexis Y. | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
Reveled in ancient times, words escape from the crevices of nature
Through soils that many have tread
The living and the dead
Eat everything and take a great big look
Something is waiting for you—someone is there for you
The history of mankind will not tell you otherwise
The vines of truth and peace surround your being
You are something new and true
And the words are willingly fleeing from my grasp
Life is a spinning top—it spins as long as you keep it going
Manmade trinkets are concepts of lives untold
Objects hold energy that are more powerful than mere words
The feeling behind the whole of it all is all too satisfying
Listen to the breeze
It whispers riddles that lift the spirits of the deep
I can hear it calling
Can you?
Humanity has closed its breadth of hearing
But they can always reopen!
Consume me—let the fires of your passion envelope me
I want to know everything I can before I leave this world behind
I want the living and the dead to be satisfied in luxuries
Luxuries of love, appetite, desire and cool water fire
There is a secret rhythmic chord in every brain
You must accept yourself
You must accept your surroundings
Let them curl all around you—let your heart turn from serpentine to
Clear fluid
Consume the waters
Consume me
Before the worms in the soil soak in what is rightfully yours
The earth will be your companion
Engorge what you may . . . but respect

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |
I never talk to you as much as I should
Just to say thank you for all of your gifts
I take for granted all that you’ve given to me
Sometimes blaming you for all I have missed
And when you come to me I shy away
Feigning I can’t see you or hear you
But no matter where I look you’re around me
In every vivid color and shape of movement
You voice beckoning in all the worldly sounds
I even try to hide myself away from you
Still you find me wherever I go without effort
Cruel and hard or ignorant and fleeting
I’ve been both and you lovingly embrace me
Cursing you at the losses washed upon me
Your hand generously gives without prejudice
Gluttonously taking much more than my fill
When I look back you’ve again filled my cup
All the mistakes I have made and will make
Many of them knowingly and willingly
Still you offer all of your forgiveness
If only I will ask as a son should his father
I’ve broken so many of your rules a multitude of times
Deceiving myself believing you wouldn’t notice
Still you offer me everything you have
When I lay in the dark at night and examine
I hope and fear you and I doubt and pray
I hope you can hear me through all the other voices
Although I fear you don’t listen to me anymore
I force myself to doubt your existence
Knowing the truth unwilling to admit to it
I pray…Dear God…Can you hear me?

Copyright © Charles Fuller | Year Posted 2006

Details | Verse |
Senseless fear of others, being shy.
All my life, been the uneasy guy.
It's a functional thing, not organic.
Social situations, just that little bit of panic.
"Stranger anxiety" from early childhood,
never left me, then even Mom and Dad weren't good.
You'd think I wouldn't feel it, at least with my wife,
though even there it's a tiny part of life.
Get through the day fine, and publicly do okay,
but what would it be like to not feel this way.


December 5, 2016
For FJ Thomas's contest

Copyright © Doug Vinson | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
How can you look someone in the eyes and tell them it's the end?
How can you possibly do that without shedding tears?
Or even blinking?
Do you not feel it? That pain, that pain that's taking over
Their soul, as you tell them their life is ending?
Or maybe it's just that you have lost your own soul? 
In that instant when you found out that the greatest part of yourself
Is about to disappear,
That its light was about to be permanently extinguished.
Can't you feel it? That sorrow that slowly shutters their hearts?
Or the fear that's taking over their minds? it's a furious fire,
Cutting off any glimpse of hope with its smog,
That fear, its suffocating their soul into its last gasp.
Can't you see it? How that laughter ends sharply, in pain?
How it breaks in half every time, never to relapse into its fullness?
How the darkness stealthily takes over those, once life-filled, eyes?
That following calm,
It's the call of darkness,
Smoothly enchanting their soul into submissiveness.
Until all is in deadly silence,
Their bodies still, their souls forever gone into unknown.
Do your tears come then? Do you feel their pain then?
Do you see it? Or do you stay the same?
Unchanged, unemotional, shell shocked,
And forever unbelieving still?

Copyright © Alina Councilman | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
I fork my medium rare steak
And put it into my mouth
Everything is settled and nice
The evening could not be better
My husband insists I say the prayer
After all, he hasn’t the tongue to speak
I whisper, “God was never there”
And I listen for the slightest shriek
But like God, they are all silent
In unison of emptiness
The little ones eat so little these days, dear
With their silly ipods and cellphones
Daddy will agree in drones
They’re useless little pigs…
All of my children are so quiet
So well behaved—SILENT
 
You are so well behaved tonight…
I eat them all raw and stare
Daddy always wanted me to say the prayer
But without you…without you there
The evening could not be better
You useless Pig…

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2012

Details | Political Verse |
Donald Duck Chancellor of this fowl kingdom 
wearing an upside down smile's raging hypocrite backwards 
this deranged Duck twitters to and fro as his unhinged subjects 
unwittingly applaud him onto a victory march that never appears equal 
except in his alternate universe of oneness 
 
Calamity Jane perchance is on the horizon 
while war looms close by this feather prides himself 
on his big show asking for a mirror to check his orange glow
he jokes and preens fading in and out so it would seem logical
tearing down all good morals he alienates with his constant magic escapades
 
 
Sleight of hand reflections move 
with this fake news it gets exposed
the big top rotates under an eclipsed lie
fire breathing condemning all those against his way
entering the arena for the next late show
 
Now Big Bird has been caught fibbing 
just when they thought everyone was safe
getting off the band wagon or so to speak
Just signing the pact with her feathered friend 
letting on they are getting on so well for the world to see buddies 
Almost joined at the hip like in their loyalty reigning over truth 
in this ungodly circus of the vainest sort
 
Where the funfair clowns abound
under fabrications an orangutan watches on 
beating his chest in an ape like manner and solid hands 
he has no way to express words
puffing and panting swaggers
living under thee umbrella protected from the truth’s influence
 
 
Alvin and his chipmunks sing the national anthem 
while the confederate flag waves goodbye over democracy
begins the three little pigs stages as they enter the building 
their houses from clay flamed with truth
ransomed for vanities sake no good ending can come

Earthquakes separate the earth
floods come with grave disaster  
hurricanes winds rise from the greatest source 
even this cannot deter or distract this awful Duck
one mission under a selfish chant of 
quack a doodle quack, quack a doodle quack, quack a doodle quack
which only translates to me 
only me, me only me, me only me!



a co written piece by Donna Loughman and Liam Mcdaid

Copyright © Donna Loughman | Year Posted 2017

Details | Free verse |
When my fingers hurt 
the pain binds and forms 
at the base of my greatest fear

I never knew fear
Until it knocked on my door
So fierce that 
What words were on the tip of my tongue 
Are drying up into dust in my mouth 

The taste that lingers a lifetime 
a sickness summoned for the saints 
to strafe the fear growing inside the soul

My heartbeat escalates to full speed
But my body is numb to the floor
And my mind is in a twirling tornado 
Tears of fear rush down into streams

When my fingers hurt and I can not write 
this fear beckons to my mind 
as I use the verbs to clear the nerves

Can you hear the drops of my tears
Drumming to the beat of my fear

Copyright © Akkina Downing | Year Posted 2017