Writing Sympathy Poems

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Details | ABC |
Alphabet Constructs 3 2 1

Annotated Achilles amends fallen frame amputees

Bulimec Barbies browse media monkey banalaties

Cameo clouds cling to beaded breath curios

Dopamine dreams dilenate check cash desires

Echo endorfins eulogize bullet brain excrement

Fecal folly fantasies reveal relevant frivoloties

Gonadial grownups gulp secret scrotal generosities

Helical hemorriods hinder senior stricken hemocraps

Idiotic ideals idioiosyncrate post partem iconoclasts

Jack Jill juxtapositories seek sexestential jouveniers

Kryptic killer kisses ascot arrogant kingdumbs

Liquid lipid loiners fear frontline lucklullibies

Malovent mommies masterbate rich reflective mommocules

Nevertheless nightengales nourich ruby rich noonbeams

Ovulatory occults outsource torrent tofu outrages

Pensive picses picnics lovelorny passions 

Queer quiet quintensials release rancid quotients

Rape ripe residuals nullify nimble reprocussions

Silky seafoam silohouttes fornicate frothy sandlets

Tepid torch trilogies belie beligerent tourniquets

Useless utterences utilize organize orgasmic utopias

Venimous vixens violate cruel.com visions

White willow wombs softly seed hospice hell winds

XY XX xfactors envision extracurricular xraydoms

Yearning yoyo yesterdays calculate clearcovert yeilds

Zen zealous zions mirror maginfy Zoneotones 

Copyright © Dave Collins | Year Posted 2013




Details | Free verse |
Hounds from Hell take their toll on your soul
as you walk the mainstreet of mainstream
and watch Saturn and Neptune dance to a simple tone
of silence in the outer space.
As you sit in the middle of the world
alone;
free yourself from the sense of hopelessness,
only see yourself in the mirror of deception
as your reflection laughs at you and looks right through you,
and doesn't have remorse for what it says or does to you.

Hounds from Hell take your soul,
chock you, cut of your air,
the smog and fog blind you in the city of ash.
Hear the hounds from hell howl for your soul,
go now, barracade your soul behind sins and temptation,
Alone, listening to your soul die away,
watch love go away from you, with suitcase in hand,
picture frames broken and collect dust through the sands of time.
Till the cleaning lady comes on Monday, to clean the mess
that you left behind.
You are gone, without a trace of ever returning.
Looks of the Hounds of Hell came for you and stole you from
comfort and warmth,
till the sorrowed heart cracks and pain spills out
and you look at it all spill out over the floor.
The Hounds from Hell have paid a consumable harmage to you,
and your rich soul of sorrowness burns away... slowly.

Fear darkens souls,
innocent souls burn with a new day,
a slumber that has no end
with nightmares haunting every light of hope
there is left in this desolate Wasteland.
Fear and darkness tears a hole in the darkened universe
and we all go to hell to see the Hounds,
who come for us all.
The graveyards fill,
and death guards the tombstones of the dead,
and the flowers burn away on the feet of the dead.

-10/14/2013-

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Verse |
Extraordinary, I am 
Craving for unusual thoughts
Endless exploration without boundary
Understanding  the gift I shouldn't fought
 
Invisible drawings in my mind
Playing with the words in my head
My passion
The food of my soul
 
I feel so lucky
The random thoughts
A lifetime companion
A self esteem builder
A goal planner
Be my forever life saver
 
I write more
I talk less
I want to please
I chose to bore
 
What tickles me the most
Is to know what I'm for
Thinking is my love
When  my mind goes empty
That's when I hate
 
My day dreaming lust
Organizing things in my mind
Playing roles of simulation
Where images of art is my vision
And words of attitude is my heart

Copyright © Katrina Salem | Year Posted 2012




Details | Elegy |
Up into the sky 
he soared 
like an Angel

With us 
down here-- 
at Soupland, watching him as he soared 
like an Angel;

So gentle… 
and brave 
he was,
a strong love he had, sharing it till the end, yet

His breath
could not resist the resounding call 
of Heaven 
and he left, 

Leaving us his poetry, for 
when great storms come in, his laughter 
will dry our tears like rain.


--

for Tom Bell, a great poet who taught us all-- 
to laugh and to smile…to learn… and to give.    

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2008

Details | Quatrain |
I have entered many poetry contests
to display my best...an amazing number of sixty or more,
only one of my poems has won first place;
poets are like enduring athletes who fight to the very core! 
 

One big hurray goes to myself for the first win,
congratulations to the other participants
who are on the top of that list, or have been
awarded Honorable Mentions for their efforts!  


When my poem doesn't make it to the finalists's list,
I don't feel discouraged, I brazen out the doubt and try again;
even Lance Armstrong, with his skills, can't always win his race,
and the trophy must be given to someone else!


I rejoice when some of the chosen poets appear 
on the winners' list; I am happy for their accomplishment,
and into a word-restricted message's box I gladly comment
on their poetry...with the insight of an achiever!


And for those whose names never made it as previously thought,
I honestly tell you, from experience, not to be a bit discouraged...
your time will come when your enthusiasm will require a big shout;
never put the word, " Winner " to rest, write for fun and persist instead! 


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2009

Details | Lyric |
Love notes 
Wordings from the heart
That I’m trying to use 
To cover this scented stationery
With my ball point scribbler, I’m proud 
To match the sensual scent 
Of your lovely and fiery lips
With crimson thoughts, but as I finally come 
To end my writings, after so many pages 
Hooked thrown into a silent bin 
I begin to wonder if it’s better to recite
My love notes to you in person
For this way you would feel 
Much, much better…
The bubbling rhythm 
Of my heart


  

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2007

Details | Free verse |
generic minds listen to generic music
have generic thoughts that are unknowingly abusive
watch generic things talk about generic things
gee this generic *****is spreading like a disease
better get your flu shot 
thats what they said to me
a suicidal vaccine 
a subliminal killing spree
its contagious and the outrageous
thing about it is that the people are blind in an eye
that they didn't even know they had
it's sickening to watch these clueless civilians 
inside the looking glass
with nightmares of being free
without a key to their mind
for it is trapped in the frequency
in the illusion of time
bathed in our universe
killing all that refuse to see
those that admit to hypocracy
or see the message in hip hop
how cant you see
the message in the lyrics that
bring adolescents to their knees
from bullet wounds conflicting their flesh
contradicting that they're the best
but the songs keep telling them that they dont need no rest
that they dont wanna go home
that they should ride alone
with the gat as their only companion
and so the only path they choose is the one that they're told
until they grow old and hope turns to a window pane
inside a window pane, until all they feel is pain
they realize that the music itself is ashamed
so whats to look up to
when you cant even speak when you cant even walk because you look so bleak
your eyes are sunken from the tv you're infested with the dee zees
now its too late to turn around and live for your conscious
so when youre screaming oh please
close your eyes and bring your mind to life
open your eyes for the first time
and never wonder why
since the answer this entire time
has been inside
and you better find it before you die
you dont want your soul to be in a pool with all the others
a buncha brothers missing their mothers
but only seeing strangers
only feeling the haters
wishing they would have used their minds when they had them
and now its too late,
now it's time for another new born fate to grab them

Copyright © Green Trees | Year Posted 2012

Details | Haiku |
Beauty of nature
Why condense it down to God?
Isn’t life enough?

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Dramatic monologue |
A Dark Fairytale

As I was chained, I breathe in.
As I was burned, I breathe out.
As I was cut, I looked down.
As I was broken, I looked up.
As I was destroyed, I closed away.
I had killed myself damaging beyond any repair.
To keep myself closed I chain, cut, burned, and destroyed what was within me, isolation my fear around me. But suddenly as I had nearly been kindled to a shivering light, something braver and stronger then I appeared and took me and held me and once again I was fixed and this is what happened; 
Suddenly I breathed in as I was unchained.
Suddenly I breathed out as my burns disappeared.
Suddenly I looked up as my broken body mended.
Suddenly I looked down as my cuts faded.
Suddenly I was opened up and my destruction was nothing more then a dream
As my knight, you entered that shadow and held me now I grow with a unprofaned radiance.
I was held once more, and my soul emerged.
I was spoken to once more, and my mind went blank.
I was kissed and my body reacted without a second hesitation.
And before I could run away once more, I was trapped.
Unlike my prison I lived in a fairytale, in were I don’t want to live this place anytime soon. What happened then and what happening now are so fair apart it hilarious.
 I’ve forgiven the past, not forgotten it. Prove never to make the same mistakes or else be locked back inside that tower I call my mind. 
Let me in brave knight, into your mysterious ways.
Let me in brave knight let me have secret passages into that world of yours. 
Let me in brave knight so I can truly capture you. 
I was as cold as ice even more then winters hail, but you with a ridged past that icier then I could have imagined is as warm as the summer sun and sweet like spring air.
For saving me, for taking my heart, for releasing me, I’ll become everything you want and then more, I’ll stand by your side and hold you like you held me and I shall be everything you need.
My sweet Knight.






Copyright © Marcedies Rhodes | Year Posted 2013

Details | Romanticism |
A sweet flower's funeral
displayed in the cold months
of snowy weather and bone chilling shivers.
A sweet flower burned away, dried up;
buried six feet under.

Oh, my sweet flower,
how you once bloomed with no remorse,
like a madman blooming with beauty
and a glorious halo over your head
shinned with such power and blinding glory.

Oh my sweet flower how you have gone now,
resting in peace in the land of paradise.
Oh, my heart it is weak when I see your face,
of once beautiful smiles and warm embraces.
I can hear your crying out to be free.

Snowing and bone chilling cold ripes at my soul
and feelings of sorrow rage through my blood,
boiling my hatred to the world, for losing your
sweet and ever glorious beauty.

What I would give away, if I could be with you
one last night, one last night together
to hold you in my arms, to smell your sweet perfume
that brings back sweet memories of you and I.
What I would do to be with you,
such romance travels through my heart in the highways
of my veins in my body, love is all throughout me,
and my heart breaks when pictures of you start to collect dust.

My love for you, my sweet flower,
is still ingering through the air,
as I travel and look upon a tombstone
which shows your beautiful name.

Come to me my dear flower,
when spring comes,
come to me my dear, sweet flower.
And bloom once again,
twice as large as last year,
and ten times more beautiful then last year.
Come to me in the first months of spring
in my dreams, so I could sit and talk with you.
I miss you already,
and my heart crys,
my eyes flood with tears of sorrow.
I miss our love we shared.
Long walks,
cosy talks,
warm cuddling embraces
and beautiful displayed in a picture frame.
Now I hear the tapping of raindrops on my window pane.
That is all that keeps me company,
that and the rose you gave to me
and a picture of you and me.
Love is endless, even when blue eyed Death comes to visit
and play a game of chess with us,
we all play our game, my love.
I shall go tonight
in my sleepy slumber
and dream of you in the times of our height in our love for each other.
My lost love, you are gone, resting in paradise,
but never forgotten my sweet flower.

-10/6/2013-

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Dramatic monologue |
Look Away


Don't look this way
For I have been burned in the face.
Defeat and captured
Only released by the sound of my breathing.
From dust till dawn
I say look away for I no longer wish for you to see me.
Released the blood from my eyes.
Look away for I have you placed in my heart
I wish you not to see me this way.
Though I be burn ,torn,tattered and fatal wounded 
Shall my breathing keep me sane.
May you memory keep me warm
See these words I speak,hear me breathing so shallow.
Feel the darkness that formed in my eyes
Since this is my mind I may be released.
But forever trapped in a maze that brings 
Me up to drag me down.
Look away for I am burned in the face
As long as you remember your in my heart,
And memory I shall be in yours.
So I shall say look away
For I am burned tattered and torn inside my mind.
Just look away

Copyright © Marcedies Rhodes | Year Posted 2012

Details | Dramatic monologue |
I look pretty much like every girl in 
the hood right/ And back in your 
mind you tryna construct ways to fall 
asleep in my heart right/ Your 
friends have never met me but 
endlessly Question due dates of my 
visiting times right/ Only because you 
told them short stories that had 
twisted endings/ The truth is you 
really don't know the being I am. 
You don't know my petrol drive/ The 
vein that runs blood straight to my 
heart shaped in a half apple shape/ 
You don't know what my heart 
chooses to echo/ A wise man ones 
said life is an adventure and we are 
all in a journey to finding the other 
half that fits our Godly given half 
apple shaped fruits/ Now some 
people find their missing part of their 
hearts in money and the rest/ What 
they don't know is that what your 
heart feels is shaped in one image/ 
That means not everything will fill 
the hole in your heart/ A half of an 
image is 50 percent full while you 
hold the other half/ I think, and I 
mean I think when the verses in the 
chapters and scriptures  say don't 
love money too much, they simply 
saying don't fall into the trap and 
focus on your Quest/ The rest is just 
there to destruct us I think/ So since 
I have brains I shoot back pains/ I 
am not tryna be rude but I hate your 
approach/ Clearly your heart shape 
is smaller, racist and fictional/ Oh my 
name is Africa/I’m an African/ 
Welcome to my ground/ Your visit 
has miscarried so many kinds/ Our 
ancestors wear miniskirts/ Traditional 
healers in war with pharmacist/ 
Misleading them to this scientific 
reality/i happen to tell the truth\

Copyright © Raymond Ngomane | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
I am a heart full of love
that shook the pilars that held her colussium up
her heart filled with sorrow,
I swing such fury toward her heart and soul
she cowards away from me,
in fear of falling in love and not knowing what is in black
and not searching what is in the light of pure white.

I am a heart full of love,
she runs and takes the long dirt road,
through the raging mountains of the quiet countryside,
as the meadows of lilacs slowly die when Spring comes,
the blooming of the rose,
like the blooming of my heart,
a blossom on a cherry tree fall and harbour in the wintertime.
I swing toward her, she falls in fear of wanting attention and love.
Lost in the midnight twilight,
the flaming torch guides her through the dark holes of meaningless souls.
and like a frightened hummingbird,
she flees away from the secrets of falling in love.

A heart full of love ready to love,
it is diffcult to feel and to show,
but as if a rose that blooms in Springtime
my love is ready to bloom.

Pettles lay along a darkened atmosphere
lit up only with four wax candles
a portrait of a woman hung over a mantel piece
in honour of my one true love.

As the twilight shine though my bedroom window,
I show a heart full of love,
to take and to hold for eternity.

And as she slowly moves forward,
she takes me home with her,
and opens her chest and shows me her heart
with a glass of red wine and charming cigarette.
She sheads tears of pain and sorrow on my broud shoulder,
I curise her hair, silk laced hair,
shining against the twilight and the moonlit sky.

My heart full of love,
so divine, so original
a one of a kind.

We make love in the midst of the twilight,
as my dream girl is now reality and my pain is no more,
her pain is no more.
Too show such love makes a man feel free
and his soul lighter.
She holds him there,
as the sun rises over the mountains.
The birds sing a tune of cheerfulness,
and they talk about everything beautiful and kind,
that is still left in this cruel and empty hearted world.

Romance and love shared
with a heart full of love,
smile and kiss upon smooth lips,
feel me against your tight body,
and love me till the morning
when Blue eyed Death is staring us in the face.
and we go with him,
and play a game of risk,
and together forever,
onto a diffrent world
we shall love each other forever,
for you and I both have a heart full of love.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
Ah, the september weather is here,
the trees turn firery red and orange,
and the leaves gently fall to the surface.

Fall is here,
and the grass turns from green to yellow,
the souls of many change their ways.

From going on beaches in sun
to walking on wet streets,
with jackets on.

September weather is here,
too most it is depressing to see,
such change in the world.

But I love it.
The girlfriends and boyfriends go away,
and that makes me happy.
Then I go apple picking.

I pick red apples,
from low, hanging apple trees.
and I eat one, while walking down the trail.

Fall is here,
the time of death,
the last of sunshine.

I don't argue,
I love fall,
it is so cosy and it gives me hope.

Hope that a day will come again,
when the sun pops its head out
and the warmth returns.

September weather is the best,
when summer is gone, but not quite,
and the cool breeze sweaps through your open windowpane.

I love fall,
it gives me hope,
that with death comes life.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Dramatic monologue |
Leashed Down


Bound by my hands
Bound by my legs
Bound by my waist 
Bound by my neck
I can't  hear
I can't  smell
I can't taste
I can't see
I put everything away and only thought of
What brought me joy.Nor do I want to
Cry leaving my captures to smile about
To gloat,to have that unknown brutal power
Over me which is held in one tear.
My  body numb,my heart is stopped,my mind is blank
Is this dying? Why am I paralyzed? Could it be falling a sleep?
These chains are cold but everything is hot.What feeling beside
Pity would become of me?..Be it not grief not sadness not even remorse.
But as I stand up from this seat,I am nothing more then a well mannered
Pup on a tight leash.

Copyright © Marcedies Rhodes | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |
See this not as a flattery
Thou, we both know that 
We met, only, yesterday
But truth is I am missing 
You, every night and day

You and only you
I think of no other, as
I spell out 
These words of mine 
My arts, from the heart

You told me 
To gaze the stars
Whilst I begged you 
To ask the birds
How to fly

I remember that night
It’s something, I’ll not forget
The scent of a Korean tea
Brewed, delicately, with love
To sanctify me

It was already two a. m. when I 
Walked home, from your place
Guided by the sleepy moon 
I found out, we passionately speak
Nature’s own language
 

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2007

Details | Dramatic Verse |

I wake up with another tear for I have again, relived the nightmare will it ever leave me with any way to see when will I again be able to see my family the past is forgiven so why is it still living my heart was so broken but soon after it was frozen let it lie and the past die for I have a life to live with but the past is still being relived how do I stop this past of torture so I can find my new future

Copyright © Denise Hopkins | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
A single kiss from thy lovely lips,
so sweet and so divine,
yet I taste posion upon your tongue.

Your beauty so glorious,
like a blooming rose so beautiful,
yet, why do mine eyes go blind
in the sight that you walk along with another?

Yes you, walk with another,
arm under arm,
lips touching lips in romantic kisses,
it makes my blood boil,
for mine lips are dry.

For mine eyes have seen your glory,
yet no one here listens to my story.
You are evil, yes you are,
don't try to deny,
Listen to a man of experience,
you might as well save some expense.

I write of our long romantic walks
we took together, under the shade of olive trees,
how we went apple picking in autumn time,
and made love in the foyer.

Nomore of that sweet and passionate love,
nomore silent kisses in the night,
when the wind blows hard against the branches,
that tape violently on my windowpane. 
Nomore somber tears shed, when you got sick,
and nomore warm embraces when you shed tears of betrayal.

Betrayal now is a game played by a fool,
such as I,
to think I'd have a happy life with you?
Huh, only a fool would think such a thing,
but now I sit, looking at the foyer,
where we once made sweet, passionate love,
nomore will that foyer be filled with exotic pleasure.
Nomore will you be filled with smiles and exotic pleasure.
I've done my job, as a good man shall do,
now pack your things and get of my stage,
the spotlight yawns for anew,
and the audience grows tired and restless of you.

Now I live life anew,
you too shall see life in new eyes,
walking hand and hand with the blond, blue eyed devil
you call your own.
Shall he take one kiss from your lips,
and die of the posion he tastes on your tongue,
shall he go blind, when he sees your true, black beauty?
He will see the ugly soul, covered up by white rags,
and cheap makeup,
and then he will come to me,
and shake my hand in condolence
and say, "You were right!"

Now you are all alone,
looking for another, as you did many times before,
Now you are alone, walking an open road,
spying on another,
fear of being alone.
Now, you see when you play games with a good man's emotions,
don't try it,
because a good man is not meant to be toyed with.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
A love letter,
so full of words,
so full of beauty.

A love letter,
me reading alone on a park bench,
while I form tears in my dry eyes.

A love letter,
which takes me to a place,
of peace and brings joy to me.

A love letter,
that has no boundaries,
that shows a stranger's true feelings.

A love letter,
taken words put together,
to read a poem of glorious beauty.

A love letter,
that shows that someone loves you,
and it brings a smile on my face.

I go on home,
sit at my desk,
look at the sweet love letter
marked with a red kiss.

A named penned in curseve,
The "I" is dotted with a heart,
makes my heart leap from the chest.

I sit there,
light a cigarette and stare at an empty page
from a lonesome notebook.

I pick up my pen,
and I transfer all my emotions onto the paper,
to create love and art to show my love in return.

Then I shall go to a simple, but beautiful garden
and pick two roses that have already picked themselves,
and take them to the creator of this love letter.

A love letter,
so strong with words put together,
expressing true emotion.

A love letter,
so strong in its own world,
it brings strangers together and makes them love forever.

A love letter,
so sweet and so divine,
that any man prays for a love letter to appear on his doorstep.

A love letter,
beauty and harmony,
that brings people closer togther.

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |
A night full of nightmares
and suicidal tendencies,
feeling pain rush, like tidal waves
crushing me and blood boiling
anger wishes and takes the best of me;
but can I heal my own heartbreak?
Will I ever find love again?
See the angel of death come to me,
smiles and says come with me.
Oh, Wake me, when the morning comes,
so I can show evil the light.

Feelings eternal and fragile,
she walks some lonesome highway
travelled by the ones who fall in love.
She a grand fool, who takes life for 
granted,
wake her with the morning light
and shine down rays of goodness and 
pride
and show her the path that leads back to 
me.

Wake me when the morning comes,
place her upon my doorstep
and a smile upon her loving face,
I'm not ready to move on just yet.
I don't want anymore nightmares
and nightly visits from the black angels.
I don't want to see blue eyed Death,
with his grinning skull and black robe.
I want to see the sunshine break through 
my window
and I want to hear the birds sing love 
songs,
and the trees dancing to the wind's sweet 
melody.
I want to awake to her sweet and glorious 
beauty.
Wake me, when the morning comes,
when I can open my eyes to anew
and see life in a new day,
and live life in a new way.

-10/5/2013-

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Romanticism |
Do not travel the lonesome road
alone with no one by your side,
sitting on park benches all alone
with no one to come to your need,
do not travel the open road alone.
That one dark road that kicks up dust
when you drag your feet across the ground,
that lonesome road that has no end,
that has no beginning, that has no life;
it just sits there alone and no one ever notices this road.
Do not travel the lonesome road of my heart.
Come with me, take my hand
I shall guide you with the beat of my heart,
with the light from mine eyes, I shall take you
and show you the world and all it's seven wonders.
You are beautiful and you do not need to walk
the lonesome road alone.

I see the pain in your heart,
I feel the tears that fall from your eyes
and drop into my hands,
come into my warm embrace
and I shall love you.
Cherish a moment so grand,
just come with me and we shall walk together
in united glory and sleep the night away,
but promise me one thing my love;
Do not walk the lonesome road of life.

-10/6/2013

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Haiku |
Open your mind sir
Hear the crying voices 
Sympathize more often

Copyright © Jaquay Atkins | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
Thinking of you always
			   when
Every second interludes 
A past a future when always we
are interrupted by a bitter sweet mention
Of you my love why do we question
all rhetorical for you, for me
love baits good interludes 
the all agonizing ecstasy 
can not dissipate a week a year
for love is longer than our time
				     abstractly
while life is short as bread
	love
		increased?
			       deceased?
why in love do we feast
on the bitter tears we are fed	
to find within a love long and true
though at times bare and brass
cowardly, does not recede
	godspeed,
		godspeed, 
			straight or bow kneed
					this love must proceed

Copyright © sylvanwillow leaf | Year Posted 2007

Details | Rhyme |
Shades of color bounce within
Singing their hues dancing in place
Vivid lines colored outside
Rules broken with empty space
A midnights dream heard and seen
Gleaming from the twinkle of a eye
Wings touched flown and plucked
Gliding like a bird up in the sky
Wishes from pennies thrown into tears
The reservoir over flowing with pigments of pain
Drowning from the shadows 
The flood paints the day
Words speak volumes of silence hidden
Their sounds blind to what they see
Mirrors of nouns and verbs 
Their meaning and secrets lost at sea
Emotions ruled by laws of language
Spelled in boxes of glass
Melted from sands inside
That voices strangle to grasp

Copyright © Justin Robbins | Year Posted 2011

Details | Ballad |
how can we pretend that everything is okay
when the world is soon to turn to grey
I've took this life and its treasures in vane
when you'd easily trade with me any day

you're amazing better than grace
so amazing just can't turn the page
amazing can't find the strength
to gaze at your face and not look away
look what we've done, coming undone
slowly fading away, so amazing
better than grace

you say they gave you less than six months
never thought it could hurt this much
I'd give anything just to save you
oh what can i do, just say because

you're amazing better than grace
so amazing just can't turn the page
amazing can't find the strength
to gaze at your face and not look away
look what we've done, coming undone
slowly fading away, so amazing
better than grace

with every breath we take, just another test today
don't walk away before it's too late
we should all be ashamed of ourselves because

he's amazing better than grace
so amazing just can't turn the page
amazing can't find the strength
to gaze at your face and not look away
look what we've done, coming undone
slowly fading away, so amazing
better than grace

Copyright © William Boyd | Year Posted 2010

Details | Acrostic |
Chivalrist of pure intent
Honoured by the ears that lent
A tale recounted to content

Resplendant wonders brought to ear
Laments that draw an unseen tear
Evasion of the heart's deep fear

Soft young mind and placid eyes
Lucid to the tale's disguise
Unseeing the truth behind the lies

There upon the golden water
Wimsically listening to the lauder
Inclines the middle Liddell daughter

Days have come and years have passed
Golden evenings couldn't last
Erosionary time has swept too fast

Dreary dawns and bitter nights
Overcame the muse's might
Dead and gone, that fragile light

Greiving when his heart was tore
Secreted to land of lore
On through Wonderland he'll soar

Now to dream forevermore

Copyright © Marchioness Of Mock Turtles | Year Posted 2011

Details | Haiku |
The End
Nothing left to say;
journey has been completed,
all is finished now.

Copyright © Marie Harrison | Year Posted 2010

Details | Dramatic monologue |
To You, My Dear John

I am sending you, this epistle, through the wind
Passing, quietly, across the gentle seas of the gods.

I am a poet, not ‘cause I was born a poet, but I am 
A poet by sole virtue of what my aging brain sees.

And it controls me more often, than my contrite heart.
Is it pretty good or not, the mind first before the heart?

I have been sitting on this board for a year or two
And I have laid my emotions on forms: if not all,
 
On some of them. Oh by the way, I mastered none.
I managed though, to stand on the first step of the ladder

Of poetry, yet still, I err musing on foreign tongue I loved:
The wording, the punctuation, the grammar, to list a few.

As you read this, my contrite heart bleeds---
For I will never make it to the pinnacle of my passion.

Surely, I wrote to you, not because I am whining
Or maybe I am, but one thing I do certainly know

Is that I am sending you, this epistle, through the wind
Passing, quietly, across the seas of the gentle gods

To ask you, Sir John, the kind-hearted god of soup whisperers
Am I doing the right thing or I am just wasting my time?
 
Lastly, do you think to have come this far is an achievement?

Sincerely,
EPS
Your avid fan, across the gentle seas of the gods 

Copyright © Ernesto P. Santiago | Year Posted 2007

Details | Couplet |
The monster became a living, walking nightmare
my dive into insanity, no longer perfect, containing a blank stare

I should resist, the monster will find me, run away with me
Pretend to hear my meager complaints, force me to see what I'm afraid to see

Blame and guilt, volleying right and left, up and down
It's crashing me closer, with every step, I'm falling to the ground

It's all a game, just play along, play the game, play it well
Brimming confidence, dissolved in thoughts, of what? I won’t tell

Demons, devil born souls, run quick, run fast, stand my ground
No sense of fear, n sense of foreboding, not even a slight sound

High speed, pursuit of hell, bent on going, bent on crashing
Giving into the power, life's faster, lights flashing

Crash and torment me again, my eyes close after all
The beginning of the end for me, feeling numb after the fall

Is there a way out? I'm different, distant and moved on
Listen to the water, calling, coaxing into death, I'm gone

Endless, empty cloud; dreamless oblivion; oxygen, exhalation
Am I dead? Still alive? Broken into pieces, I need motivation

Reality closes in, walls me in; until there’s nothing there
Death comes behind me, containing a blank stare.

Copyright © Candice Vega | Year Posted 2009

Details | Ode |
Walking away might be the most hardest things for a man to do, you cant even imagine what that feeling can do to you. Falling flat on your face would be better than to look shameful, even walking around naked around the streets would be cool. But like any story in life goes, there is always that one person that will help you get back on your feet and walk again. No matter how much you fall, no matter how much you stumble upon a struggle, that person will be there with you till the end. Give love and thanks to this person who never leaves your side and helps you put a smile on your face everyday. When the day comes to an end and you know that the person has to go, all you can wish is for your special person to stay. Mine has walked away on me, I was so blind that i couldn't see. She wanted everything for her self, for me to change and be what she wanted me to be, but i had to let her go and never see this person again, cause it would only be worse in the end. Writing this is more painful than getting your body tattooed, writing this is more painful than getting over screwed. Writing this is more painful than words, writing this is more painful than razor sharp swords. No matter how much you try to let it out it just wouldn't come out, the pain is way to deep and its almost like its tattooed on your bodies gout. haven't i been hurt enough in this world, i just don't understand why i am being treated like this, is it cause i am better than you and have nothing to look forward too but my blue and black handkerchief? The cut was way to deep my dear, you just cant imagine, i have been cut and bruised for the last time, i can promise you that. No one will ever touch this body or hurt this soul ever again, if you wish to try so, go ahead and check it, but before that go ahead and get yourself a casket.

Copyright © Roman Chebukin | Year Posted 2012