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Best Angst Poems | Poetry

Below are the all-time best Angst poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of angst poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Angst Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Angst poems are below this new poems list.

Feeling of Angst by Son, Dedu
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ANGST by Strand, Brian
ABANDONMENT ANGST by Agustin, Beata
April Angst: Lonely for the Lone Star State by Slaughter, Jim
Our Amorphous Angst by Amadore, Leo Larry
The Angst of a Want-To-Be Poet by Spencer, Jeffrey
Angst by Beilinson, Jacob
Angst by Zeavin, Jennifer
Silly angst by kiran, ravi

View all new Angst Poems

The Best Angst Poems

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Twilight Aurora

like an interrupted dream shadows of the one who inspired it linger like morning dew no aroma and no taste yet I'm left breathless as thoughts reminisce i listen to this tired heart as one deep breath results in a thousand sighs and i don't want to be found but yearn to understand why i feel like a million crumpled stars, silently sprinkled like paint drops protecting the moon feeling like glue holding the universe together and who am I to disturb it? her beauty a merited gift her departure unnecessary her lips without speaking could rewrite history and I wonder can she hear these sighs? her call is the one I want to answer for eternity to speak until no words remain give until there is nothing defeat to her submission is life's greatest victory twilight aurora night flower of this heart like a rainbow your presence brightened the horizons but just like the stars you disappeared with daylight
Silent One Simple Musings 15 July 2017 I'm back! Contrary to idle gossip and rumours, my account was not banned nor deleted. I left for personal reasons. They say never go back, but I felt the need to return to support my friends and new poets. I know there is some negativity on this site, but it has so much potential. Anne Frank once said "In spite of everything, I still believe people are really good at heart." and I know some went to the extreme liberties of writing poem about me, but what I do not understand is the obsession with it after I left. Hide behind metaphors, I hope it makes you happy and write as much as you like, because it does not bother me, in fact it makes me laugh and I already forgive you. We are supposed to be adults, if you have a problem, then discuss it. This is not high school. It is a poetry site, a community and one that together everyone can make a great place.


Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2017


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A girl named Sue

POTW 1 Oct 2018

Gossip about her
swept the school yard through
“Hey if you’ve got what it takes 
There’s this girl named Sue
For a pack of smokes
or a drink or two
She’ll kiss you ~ she’ll please you
like no other girl can do”

Her fuchsia glossed lips
Matched the colour of her hair
Her legs went on forever
She had a self-assured flair
He yearned for those baby blues 
to stray his way
How did the cool guys snare girls 
come what may?

Dreams on his pillow a teenage fantasy Were seconds away from becoming a manly reality She promised to meet him in the park one night Two packs of Marlboro’s Under the pale moonlight A brief kiss on the lips then as she swiftly turned to go He yanked her back hard and as she fell to the floor A fantasy was shattered Hopes tossed away ~ abused Feelings of rejection Cast aside and confused
He lived in an era Where double standards were applauded Girls were shamed For going all the way Boys rewarded However integrity doesn’t stoop to lows no need to impress Head high as he walked it was not worth the stress
The journey was his ~ along this untrodden road Tomorrow ~ todays rejection would be yesterday’s episode Every step away from her was a gentle elixir Then came her words on the wind ~ barely a whisper
‘Hey ~ I’m a virgin too ~ and a skank I’m not They sully my name and my character they blot The smokes are for my mum it eases her pain And for my sick Ma I’ll do this again and again’ Continued in 'Tears on her pillow'...


Copyright © Maria Williams | Year Posted 2018


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Pretty Shoes and Cracked Feet

Once I'm gone 
I'll only be remembered a small while
I'm a tiny tick on a large dial
The words I breathe will stretch about a mile
Even those who are in history books
the Kings writers and famous cooks
The gorgeous people with talent and looks
They too in the end fade away
Don't get me wrong it's all okay
We might try to hold on but none of us can stay
All have a bit part 
on this watery ball of granite and clay

Some are calm others make waves
One smooth skinned another shaves
She loves him while he's attracted to Dave 
They both pretend because they have to behave
Each in their own prison living like a slave
The preacher too plays his part 
trying to find people to save

Some couples love from the start till death
She breathes in he exhales her breath
Their children thrive Bobby and Beth
While some mothers go it alone
Daddies leave and are never known
Children left to learn life from a smart phone

Some chase riches when other just want to eat
Walking on pretty shoes while poor men have cracked feet
The music plays so clearly yet we fail to hear the beat
So I wonder what's it all for
This wanting more and more
Is that really God knocking at our door
Yes it is I believe it at my core
So why do we leave it closed
Maybe because we fear our sins will be exposed
a life manicured and posed 
could be unfroze
Freedom from each prison chose
Instead why not drink from the garden hose
Wear our humanity 
discard these labeled clothes
Count down the future with fingers and toes
Within a momentary breath each spirit goes
As minds open each heart then grows
What happens next only God knows!







Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2016


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No thunder without lightning

Lightning rarely strikes without thunder,
causing havoc in gloomy skies.
Humans can't control their plunder,
seeking shelter until the storm dies.

Once, I was your prince - full of charm
and you my willing Cinderella.
Kept you safe from storms that could harm,
just like a human umbrella.

We danced from spring until the fall
and laughed so much, until you cried.
Now here I stand, trying to recall,
that exact moment the music died.

Those eyes of soft chocolate brown,
gleamed with your sweet tender smile.
Now all you seem to do is frown,
and even a glance seems like a trial.

Its been such a long time
since my kiss made those lips quiver,
and my hands didn't commit a crime,
but now my touch makes you shiver.

To unlock those sad songs in your mind,
I couldn't sing the correct lyrics.
Still the right words, I struggle to find
as I love you, doesn't raise your spirits.

As our love begins to rot,
regret plants seeds of discontent.
Yet my love remains, but yours does not,
as you lose yourself in malcontent.

How ironic as you walk away,
the radio plays our special song.
I don't have the strength to make you stay,
after all, it would only be wrong.

Your ghost will linger in the gust
with memories that wish to remain.
When bridges burn, ashes turn to dust,
its difficult to erase this pain.

Silent One
Simple Musings
21 August 2017




Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2017


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Old man

Silently he sat in darkness, flinching at the sight of light.
Which created a glow reflecting on his balding head.
His cold glare did not help my nerves, 
so I simply stood there observing his silence.

His philosopher beard's tendrils seem to crawl forever,
some hidden behind his buckled knuckle hands.
Wizened victims of one too many a fist fight.
When you looked closer, they exposed branded tattoos, 
a timeless reminder from his perturbed past.

He was a man whose ship had never sailed, 
maybe too afraid to sink within uncharted waters.
Yet this pilgrim had walked many a path for several decades.
Burning many bridges along the way, until his feet became weary.
To many, he was an 'old dog' that should have been put down
a long time ago - yet he had never requested to live this long.
He didn't seem like a religious man, but he eagerly anticipated death.

An emphatic glance into his lackadaisical drowsy eyes,
revealed hidden sorrows built up through the generations.
Every wrinkle on his sullen face seemed to be an emblem of pain.
He looked tired, worn down by life and defeated by humanity.
A fighter who had fought and fallen many times, 
but always returned to the ring. Begging to be punished.

His body had now become slender and emaciated, 
it seemed a strong gust could blow it away.
It was evident he enjoyed to pretend, but I knew his game.
Especially when his idle facial impressions struggled with 
the sound of bones creaking in sluggish movement.

He started to whistle a tune, it was familiar, 
but I couldn't put a name to it.
As he rubbed his eyes, his cheeks crumpled.
A wry smile, crippled by decaying teeth appeared,
as his lethargic lips spoke with a burdened tone.

“Life is like a coin. You can spend it any way you wish, but you only spend it once.  Someone once said that boy! But, let me tell you, no matter how many times you toss that coin, it will never land on the same side."

A sardonic expression appeared on his face. 
But, I could see he had a story to tell, 
but his tongue seemed to refuse to dance 
with the desires of his heart.
Silence was still my guide though, 
but unsure if it was due to tact or fear.
I wanted to know about the wounds engraved on his heart,
and the agony ingrained in his soul.

Following a deep sigh, he began to speak, but now in a subtle tone.

I can't tell you about smiles, 
but I sure can tell you about tears, boy.
They called me a coward, because I didn't go to war,
but I've been a prisoner of war all my life. 
And I've had more blood on my hands,
than any 'son of a gun,' solider, boy.
Its always been me against the world, 
to save myself I lived a life of manipulation,
but I never meant to hurt a soul,
unless they deserved it and too many did.

After a slight pause, his tone sounded more intense.

"I was born on a night when the heavens cried.
I've asked GOD, why did the angels hide when I arrived. 
Instead he sent the grim reaper to take my mother.
I didn't even have a chance to feel her skin.
I've never been able to call anyone mother."

He was now staring at me, I could see the rage in his eyes,
so intimidating, I turned my head towards the floor. 
His tone now fierce, I could feel his wrath.

"Life is full of second hand emotions, broken dreams,
forgotten promises and bleeding hearts!! Regretful memories,
of haunting ghosts, whose spirit voices torment my mind!!
And you want to hear something nostalgic, boy?
Try being beaten every day, for just existing!!
Try being seen as the cause of death!!

And then they wonder why..."

He wipes away intrinsic tears,
trembling, he lights up a cigarette.

"we done here boy"

and then the silence returned...

Walking away in somewhat of a daze,
instinctively I remembered the song;

 Old man look at me now....
Love lost, such a cost,
Give me things
that don't get lost.
Like a coin that won't get tossed
Rolling home to you.

Silent One
1 November 2017


Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2017


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Ancient Warrior

I see the wrinkles in your suntanned brow,
You carried burdens then; you see them now.
You’ve heard the cries your people who in pain,
Have shed their tears two hundred years like rain. 

Your sad brown eyes, reflecting now the sky
I see the wings of eagles flying by
Beside you stands an Appaloosa mare
Her spirit one with you now over there.

You hear the drums, they bid you to come near,
Your spirit drawn the beats they ring so clear.
Song like prayers are chanted through the night,
Calling you come, and help them end their plight.  

You’ve heard sad cries and now stand at their side,
You join the prayers with both arms open wide,
United spirits sing until the dawn,
When in the fire’s flames a golden fawn.

Remembering a smile crosses your face,
When tribes were one with Mother Nature’s grace.
The lakes and streams flowing with waters clear,
Flow sadly now, the planet lives in fear.

The weightless feathers that adorn your head
Your tribes grey future weighed you down instead.
Now breathing deep you smell the winds of change
While here on earth your people rearrange.

Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
10.21.2014
Giorgio A.V. Contest 
Iambic Pentameter 
1st place


Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans | Year Posted 2014


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Frozen Noose

Anxiety    (The Worst Noose In Town)

-- like flooding waters, creeping in
I count 30, seconds, holding my breath again
Drowning in agitation, overwhelmed by fear
I try to hide the pressure in hopes I don't pass out
My pores are soaked, from all the perspiration
I feel the pins and needles pushing in
My skin is ruined from all the peeling
At this point, I can't seem to win

Washed out by dead hope and desire 
My soul is lost searching for a shore
leashing, grasping and ripping the chest wide
I count 40, seconds, once nausea can't be blocked
Everything about this moment is driving me mad,
I need to escape, however, my knees are too weak
I tremble while losing control to the emotional distress
My knuckles are pale, detached from reality,
wounds forced with further embarrassment.
Guaranteed failure surrounds my day
Numbness strikes my very essence - I can't move!

Lost in a room, 
Therapy - even so I feel singled out


HAPPY VALENTINES (it can get the best of us)  
---------------------------- love Linda


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2016


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winter's afterglow

stars twinkled brilliantly
against majestic snow-capped mountains,
delicate pure white flakes danced;
swirling, twirling, rhythmically.

she stood, nose pressed tightly
against the window pane; gazing in awe
at the magic the snowflakes created;
as tears spill from her emerald green eyes.

the cabin is warm, radiating a comforting glow
a fresh pine scent lightly sweetens the air;
she fights the memories, as she begins to shake.

fingers entwined, she tries desperately to hang on
be present in the moment;
"stop, stop, stop" she says, stomping her feet;
she falls to her knees; quivering. 

she holds tightly her arms and begins to rock,
feeling his presence in his favourite black sweater;
she cannot bring herself to take off.

giggling sounds permeate her thoughts
cocooned in his aura, his essence, his scent;
she feels his lips kiss the nape of her neck,
his strong hands caressing her hair.

she rocks and rocks, time ceases to stop,
as she falls deep into a rich
moulton pool; his smouldering brown eyes.

her lips part; barely into a smile at
his joy when he surprised her with the cabin; 
their oasis away from home.

she wipes away a tear, beams from within
as she recalls the snowball fight, he lost, she won.
he scooped her up, carried her with glee,
over the thresh hold of their cabin; 
their oasis; their heart's retreat.

a decadent white rug bought just for her
lay invitingly in front of the fire,
fiery orange embers crackled and glowed.
he gently laid her down; "my beauty" he said.

they drank champagne, drunk in each other,
wrapped up in his care, she felt peace.
as they lay basking in winter's afterglow,
he whispered "this is my time, i must go".

startled, she sat up, staring deep in his soul,
as snowflakes twirled and danced, 
fresh pine lightly sweetened the air;
he breathed one final breath; then he let go.

her screams were not audible, her body convulsed
as she lay on his chest; her heart; her home.
she cursed the night and winter's afterglow
sobbing "not him, not him, please take me too".

she fights to bring herself back
to the here and the now,
as embers slowly dim, she wobbily stands
clutching tenderly his urn, she must set him free.

the stars twinkled brilliantly
against majestic snow-capped mountains
she opens the window, where dreams breathed of life;

with tears cascading
she releases her love; her life;

to become one 
with the magic of;
winter's afterglow.


Copyright © Lynn Marie | Year Posted 2006


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Some hearts can never be tamed

Once when my soul spoke, you betrayed every word. Then your tongue promised to only sing with sincerity. I danced for a brief while, lost in your angelic orchestra. Until I stumbled and you fell, crushing our garden of roses. Then keys fused only sad sounds. Maybe it was me, but i'm sure it was you, who left me alone on that boulevard of broken promises. Vivid violins cried, until you snapped their sorrowful strings. And I was right there, but your eyes deceived you. You thought it was rain drops, not the tone of my tears, electrocuting the heart of my weeping guitar. Chills from your silence froze suppressed emotions. Creating ribs of steel, which shield flesh that is now stone. Now your love belongs to another innocent man. Who doesn't know your song, nor how your garden blooms.
Simple Musings Silent One 28 February 2018


Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2018


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This Song is for my Mother

This song is for my mother
Let her hear me cry
I couldn’t bring myself to write it
‘Til this darkened day arrived
A song about old promises 
Made so long ago
Created and cremated
Ashes of the words I spoke

Long separated by the miles
Distanced from her golden smiles
Memory of a mother
Shared my dreams and really cared

Long separated by the miles
Distanced from her golden smiles
Mama…
I know I wasn’t there……

For you

Would have placed 
A magic carpet 
‘neath your weak and shaky legs

Would have raised
A strong west wind
Let you breathe with ease again

Would have bribed 
God’s venal angels
Come and soothe your endless pain

Would have vanquished
All the demons
And bring peace to you again

Be the child
I never knew
In a land
We won’t grow old

Be the light
I always loved
Warmed my dark 
And lonely soul

Be the girl
Playing games
In a world 
The sun won’t set

Be the laughter
Calms my heart
I never will forget
I won’t forget, won’t forget

This song is for my mother
Let her hear me cry
Couldn’t bring myself to write it
‘Til this darkened day arrived
Song about old promises 
Made so long ago
Created….cremated
Ashes of the words I spoke

I broke my promises, oh mama
Now you’ve gone away 
I’m broken
Drowning in the pain each day

I’m  drowning…drowning...drowning…drowning

This song is for my mother
Let her hear me…….




Copyright © Catman Cohen | Year Posted 2011


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Shadow of Death

My shadow flirts with the sun
As I caress the darkness
We are one and separate
As my shadow smiles
Anxiety suffocates me
The shadow will soon fade
I shall die
One happy, one not


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2017


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Yesterday's Fragile Truth

Betrayal has devastated your heart blocking love’s magic before it could start. And depression's quagmire entraps your soul as disparaging lies exact their toll. Chameleon clouds change to match your mood releasing teardrops emotions have brewed. And your heart breaks from the weight of the pain as monsters hide in the thoughts of the sane. A fickle sun no longer shares its light sulking within shadows gathered by night. And feigning feelings you struggle to cope for counterfeit smiles leave no room for hope. The specter of fear that penetrates dreams fuels frightening bouts of silent screams. And exiting the tunnel there’s no light for the future’s foggy obscured by fright. The promise of tomorrow made to youth was written on yesterday’s fragile truth. For happiness is a word without weight it's simply a moment devoid of hate. (Rhyme) 4/22/2017


Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2017


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Loves Fragility

Love is such a fragile sentiment
So oft confused with sex,
So in our daily double dealings
We render it is so indefinable
Like the faint flicker of a candlelight
That is blown out by our despair,
An intimate venue of self torture.
We add to its impenetrable obscurity
Blowing the flame right out,
Thus our outrageous shadows 
Are silently snuffed out.
 
How easy it is to forget 
All our wistful whispers, those
Sweet nothings of past affections,
We no longer trudge the path made up for two.
Forgotten are those bygone days
When we believed that thistledown tufts
Were really friendly fairies in disguise.
 
We head for a dull and empty living
Blaming everyone else uselessly.
Aren't we the product of our time?
We slam the doors of love in our own faces,
Building woeful walls around us
Painting it with a tinge of misunderstanding,
When we can lead such a colorful life,
Giving our hearts a chance,
Laughing at ourselves.....
And at the moon above.

P O T D  28 March 2017


Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2017


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When the piano bleeds pain

It's 3 am,
her pillow soaked in regret.
Loss has left her spirit lonesome,
darkness a definition of insanity.

In the silence of the night,
vexatious voices vibrate inside
her somber state of mind.

Restless, she sits at her proverbial piano,
as a plethora of pain bleeds through
her fingers onto ebony and ivory keys.
Rain drops drip from her eyes,
unable to contain the sorrows in her heart.

In perfect harmony with her faithful piano,
her heartache performs the perfect poetic personification, 
echoing a serenade of melancholic melodies.

Her whole body is numb, but the 
music mesmerises her mind, as memories
of her prophetic protagonist persist.

Her souls sighs, as she sings; "If only you could see the pain, maybe then you would explain, what do you think you will gain, from my mind going insane? It seems like you don't care, tell me how is that fair? You'll say it's you and not me, because you're too blind to see, only your love can set me free, but you say it's not meant to be. It seems like you don't care, tell me how is that fair? Oh my love, is this goodbye? Your silence makes my heart cry. Within the deepness of each sigh, I will always question why."
27 March 2018 Simple Musing Silent One


Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2018


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We Rulers Of The Earth


We Rulers Of This Earth

*****Sapiens we call ourselves, rulers of this Earth,
   Intelligent and civilized, but what is all this worth?

We're working hard to conquer space—we landed on our Moon.
   We better solve our problems here, or soon we will face doom.

New industries and factories constructed every day,
   And poisoning the air we breathe—is this the price to pay?

Energy sources are shrinking now—what happens when there's none?
   Will Man of Earth ever learn to work with Nature as one?

Some in this world are starving still while others hoard their gold.
   Intelligent and civilized; at least, that's what we're told.

We cure disease with drugs that may cause sickness as result—
   How many dearly paid for this ‘experimental cult’?

We have become a plastic world where everything is fake,
   From the foods we eat to how we look—when will we awake?.

We're civilized we tell ourselves, but fight our fellow man,
   If only we could solve world stresses through a better plan.

With government corruption and morality sinking low…
   The price of progress we may say—is this the way to grow?

We have upset Earth’s balanced ways, destroying Nature’s scheme—
   We’re intelligent and civilized—is it all a dream?

Will we ever walk on Nature's path, take her by the hand,
   Restore the beauty meant to be on Earth, our dying land?

*****Sapiens we call ourselves, rulers of this Earth,
   Intelligent and civilized, but what is all this worth?


Sandra M. Haight

~4th  Place~
Contest: People
Sponsor: Richard Lamoureux
Judged: 12/11/2017

~1st Place~
Contest: Best Old Poem
Sponsor: Judy Konos
Judged: 12/17/2015

~2nd Place~
Contest: Let're Rip – Shoot from the Hip
Sponsor: John Lawless
Judged: 04/06/2015

I actually composed this poem 30 years ago…but it is still appropriate today for venting because nothing has changed.  *****Sapiens means “man of wisdom” in Latin.


Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2015


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It was Beautiful Yesterday



Bha e brèagha an-de
(It was Beautiful Yesterday)


There was a sailing vessel
With many a sail proudly lapping in the wind
A flag of the Celtic honor, in ruin an rented
As all the sailors sing
Of my love for you
From long ago
Before death became our friend
Oh would I be sailing from stormy seas to the Scottish glens
To lay some flowers at your side
Your beauty is now far under
My love ill wait for all eternity
For loves resurrection’s stormy thunder
Our bodies may be under stone
Our memories long lost in tales and fable
Let no man ever lay any such claim
Our love was not the gift of briny seaworthy fame

We be only stones, in a meadow blue
When you come upon our fate
Tiss with this verse, I state my case
The life that escaped our sadly date
Love though was true as sky
For long ago, she bid adieu
Her sadness at my drowning departure
As I her lover was told to be 
Buried deep and under sea


Both sadness and the tossing waves
Took the life out of her and me
So when you look at fading stones
Remember the love that used to be



Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016


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What Only Angles Hear

Daddy never did understand.
That violence doesnt bring comfort.
A lost soul seeking acceptance from a unwelcome hand.

She was silent no one ever knew.
The secrets behind her bruised eyes.
A shocking victem none but all had a clue.

She cried to empty walls never speaking aloud from fear.
A confession of pain and shattred trust.
this is only what angles hear.

Scars selfinflicted  are better than that 
dirty feeling.
As she lays a broken shell gazing  at the celling.

She questions if others know what will they say.
Doing whatever it takes to stay numb.
Innocence lost a parent should never betray.

The guilt was placed apon the wrong head.
Void of all emotion.
No child should yern to be dead.

At times it gets to uncomfortable so in 
another direction we  steer.
For at times it's just to painful to stomach.
What only angles  hear.


Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo | Year Posted 2009


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Six Thousand Suns From Yesterday

            You have seen three thousand suns
              You will witness six thousand more
      Feel the warm breeze and your lover's kiss
        As the sun sets upon an ancient shore

              Place your sweet head upon soft sand
From puzzled dreams answers are spoken
  What is fixed beyond sun and stars
By doubters can never be broken

     Let the connections beneath your skin
        Connect your heart fully with your beautiful mind
   The mysteries of love will open your heart
Without love we are nothing but blind

                 In your dreams you will be surprised 
   As you listen, answers will be spoken
     as you're suspended within vibrant colours
   Tomorrow will no longer be broken

      You should know you're formed in perfection
 You were always meant to be free
    Never worry about tomorrow 
             Doubt and fear are a weak enemy
     
 Float high upon ardent breeze 
       As you gaze into your lover's eyes
   Strength comes from fully giving yourself
Within passion you are lifted up to peaceful skys
    
Let the tingling convert, until it no longer hurts               
           Your numbness will lead to gain
         Sunshine is pretty and it is pure
yet there is much to be gained from the rain
 
   As each splendid rhyme 
 builds on your last line
Life will become sweet on your lips like wine
    ocean waves coming in, will help you begin
 Until sadness and pain become gossamer thin

       For dear girl 
the ocean awaits
  The sunset will accompany your need
      You will feel angels weep
Who were lost to the deep
  As the sound of true love reaches their ears
       
  As melodies play 
        your heart begins to race
          As your lover feels your lips upon his face
A moment can be 
                 an eternity
 Within a pause you find a sacred place

Metallic or not from chains you break free
      You're exactly at the place where you need to be
              The sweet nectar of love
Raining down from above
  A gift so splendid for the world to see
       

One day soon much later on
                                  You will hear the angels say
           "I remember you when, you were so young and free
                                             just six thousand suns from yesterday
                Your love took our breath away!"


Written in response to Heather Ober's "Unchained" Poem.
If you haven't read her poem please do.


Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015


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Shadows

Our shadows were so restless
As we passed from room to room;
They pretended to be living
But they died within their tomb

 They shrank a little bit each day
When the sun shone bright above;
And both of us now waste away
In the sadness of lost love.

In days of younger shadows
That danced in noon's bright light;
Laughter floated on the breeze
Till our day turned into night.

Burdened by life's troubles
Our shadows danced no more;
They became the darkened spots
That faded on the floor.

Now death's arms have taken you
Leaving only memories of your face;
The shadow that was part of you
Is now gone without a trace.


Collab with Danny Boy, the Kearley



Copyright © elizabeth wesley | Year Posted 2012


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Depression

Unending darkness floods the skies alone in dreams my heart must weep no words are spoken or even cried such silence lives where shadows sleep My pleas just echo off the stillness my tears find no comfort as they fall my hope stands as a martyred witness I pin no exit from this pall Turn your head and spare no time leave greater credence to lesser thoughts take what is said in this poor rhyme add to your bed of forget-me-nots Think only of what should have been No lesser loss, this mortal sin.


Copyright © Charlie Smith | Year Posted 2017


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this was me

it began so innocently
we exchanged ideas on poetry
his art, the suffering he endured
he preyed upon my compassion
as he meticulously bided his time...

i felt safe as we expressed
our mutual love of words
i was excited, i was learning,
unbeknowst to me, i was his prey..

many months and thousands of hours, 
talking, reaffirmed my trust; faith in him
he shared his life, triumps & tragedies
i supported all he desired for himself..

i understood, i felt his pain, 
his drive i admired, he overcame tremedous odds,
became a doctor so others would not suffer as he had;
he baited me; the innocent and naieve one.

living life with no regret,
i chose to take a leap of faith,
he guided me, alleviated my fears,
of promises to cherish and adore me..

as a tiger waits patiently to pounce on his prey
i was oblivious to his hatred inside,
he was a master of manipulation
his mission - to destroy me..

i felt he was worth giving 
up all i knew to build a life
he so lovingly described to me,
little did i know, his words - poison..

america bound i left everything i knew; i loved.
the terror of his drunken rages, his icy silence,
the cruelty of his words stung like red hot coals.
what he admired most about me,intensified his hatred.

the vacancy in his eyes was terrifying, 
i was alone in a strange country, 
knowing no one, in a house, not a home, 
full of tension, rage, abuse; numb and in shock;
this was my reality..

with each painstaking day of living in terror
dreading his arrival, my fear reached new heights;
i had enough; i was leaving.
his rage increased, his words pure venom..

i was numb, shaking, fear drove me to action
he became desperate, i did not sleep 
for fear of never waking, his actions so terrifying
i felt a strength within, empowering me..

planning my escape, fear became my ally,
i reached the airport and did not stop shaking
until safely on the plane, doors shut, 
moving down the runway to take-off;
i wept, i crumbled, i collapsed.

jubilantly at home, i felt peace, safe, 
and soaked in the beauty of my freedom; my home.
it has been six weeks; i have flashbacks, 
terror still haunts me; i am determined 
to not let another change me.

i am healing and am grateful for every
moment i smile, smell a flower, witness
the marvel of each sunrise and sunset.
i am a blessed girl.

~this was me~ 


Copyright © Lynn Marie | Year Posted 2007


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She Calls Me Home

She Calls Me Home…

At days long end
Left on troubles shore
When I just know
I can't take anymore
When the last light
Of hope is gone

She calls me home
She calls me home

When my thoughts
Are racing round
And I can't find
A friend in this town
When every door
Has turned out wrong

She calls me home
She calls me home

She calls me home
To her embrace
Wipes the tears
From my tortured face

Calms my soul
Til the demons are gone
And with her sweet voice
She calls me home

When the dark
Won't give up light
When the wrong
Outscores the right
When the noise
Outdoes the song

She calls me home
She calls me home

When the clouds
Won't seem to break
And the sky
Just seems to ache
And the sun's
Completely gone

She calls me home
She calls me home

She calls me home
To her embrace
Wipes the tears
From my tortured face

Calms my soul
Til the demons are gone
And with her sweet voice
She calls me home


Copyright © James Burns | Year Posted 2012


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Toilet Bowl Committee

Toilet Bowl Committee (aka: Uptown Hood)

A lavatory confinement
my$h!tdontstinkcomode.com
---
If you want to moderate this place, pick up the pace
From the mouth down to the @$$
Your so called kind has no class,
Fed by these political rejects, never elected for what was!
No matter,
They wipe their assets clean with our dreams
Forgetting to wipe their own toilet seats clean
Trying to make us feel dirtier than scat
Feeding off our paper when their toilet bowl water level is low

Toilet bowl PO-poes, wiping without dental floss
Missing everything in between reality
Trying to be kind, saying "One Day We'll Be Good Enough!"
Offering their Golden Plunger, 
straight from the Home Depot shelves
No Thank You! My plunger a true gift from Mr. Wal-Mart himself

Next time you feel the need to offer a reference point
Please caption your name when you drop by,
Rinse thoroughly when speaking my name,
Then I will listen when you talk civilized
Correct my punctuations and spelling errors 
The weakest trait you wear
You are no Prophet, just white tissue turning brown
Your Justification comes from old dry grapes falling from the vines
Ridicule will never give you the respect, for what you are!
We, the few poets from the hood, 
overpower any change you offer Goodwill
Crumbling and flushing what does not meet your standards
Trying hard to force feed us soup, without giving us bibs

Thank you
Toilet Bowl Committee
For clogging up my drain with your bull$h!T


By: Keeping it Real (The Downtown Hood) 
Date: 12-15-13

~*~


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2014


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The Older I Get

I once heard the whisper of falling snow,
saw a spark in the eye of a coal-black crow,
felt the power and awe of a swift river's flow,
the older I get, the less I know.

My hair was once braided in golden cornrows,
by Jamaican friends in an island below,
a psychic once asked me about Jericho,
the older I get, the less I know.

The hot southern asphalt that scalded my toe,
the rope swing that swung us, to and fro,
Christmas Eve and the tree in the firelight's glow,
the older I get, the less I know.

Everyone's gone, but where did they go?
Why is my spirit sinking so low?
Is it true we reap only what we sow?
the older I get, the less I know.


©2010 DanielleWhite


Copyright © Danielle White | Year Posted 2010


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Things That Seemed Poetic

Listen to poem:
Things that seemed poetic were always sad,
though I yearned for sparkle
and my dad's guffaw, which never came.
Familiar things were always drear --
repeated motions in the same old game.
There were only distant glimpses
of budding spring, fleeting views
of daffodils. The strongest
poems dealt me death and dying.
Yet I always hoped, never went under
to gray despair, always dreaming
of a garden of love that we could share.
But those forbidden delights faded
quickly away; the only reality
I understand is the ever-looming
and final one. Nothing's changed.
The strongest poems deal death and dying.


Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore | Year Posted 2011