Best Erasable Poems
TWO YEARS TODAY!!That's right, go ahead
and let the UNIVERSE know big SISTA, that's
1,051,200 min sober yeah we're countin
WITH YA! Raise your arms, leap, feel free to
shout a SCRIPTURE, crowds clapping, joyful
smiles and tears, NOW PLAYING " DAWN'S
DAY" A Paramount PICTURE... The past and
all the uncontrollable, irresistible, impractical
disease infected moments are
WITHDRAWALABLE, they are erasable, no
longer noticeable and you have shown ALL
OF US THAT NO MATTER HOW LOST YOU
FEEL"LIFE IS indeed RETRIEVABLE" Disease
and ADDICTION are SURVIVABLE, It's not
easy cuz those overemotional thoughts
are so easily MANIPULATABLE, and attack
every weakness to breakdown your guard
trying to convince you that those cravings
are simply IRRESISTIBLE! But exactly
63,072,000 seconds ago you Dawn-ster
stood up to that MONSTER, took your life
back, STOPPED LIFE'S FORECLOSURE! You
recalculated and refinanced the interest and
showed STRIFE, took down the for sale sign
put a hold on moving on to the AFTER LIFE!
Categories:
erasable, addiction
Form:
ABC
Words are easy
Words are cheap
Hard to swallow
With tongue in cheek
A clap for wonder
A clap of praise
Left to wander
An endless maze
Broken promise
Broken trust
Words hid under
Flaky crusts
Crush the honour
Hush the scream
Take the objects
Please leave the dreams.
Categories:
erasable, angst, introspection,
Form:
Verse
Memorial Day 2016
Written: by Tom Wright
Each Memorial Day is like a magnet
That holds captive, my thoughts,
Of those before me who didn’t return,
And to those who returned
That war has left un-erasable footprints on.
War has a way of accomplishing that,
For there is no reversal of things done, seen,
Or clearing your nostrils of the foulness of war;
Categories:
erasable, memorial day,
Form:
Free verse
Memorial Day 2016
Written: by Tom Wright
Each Memorial Day is like a magnet
That holds captive, my thoughts,
Of those before me who didn’t return,
And to those who returned
That war has left un-erasable footprints on.
War has a way of accomplishing that,
For there is no reversal of things done, seen,
Or clearing your nostrils of the foulness of war;
Categories:
erasable, brother, memorial day,
Form:
Free verse
Why dear woman do I love you so?
Why oh why won't I let you go?
Why must this feeling not cease to grow?
When was I struck by cupid's bow?
Why was it me, of so many men?
Why do I not now know, like I didn't then?
Why was I struck by love's blade like the oblivious hen?
Why will you not disappear like the ink of an erasable pen?
The alert side of me knows we need separation,
But for such an event, my heart has had no preparation,
So I hold fast to you as a prized possession,
Never letting go even in my love's recession.
Love burning bright as the day it first ignited,
Back when we were anxious and well excited,
Those days now long gone, all I feel is frustration,
But why can't I leave though I need evacuation?
Categories:
erasable, addiction, boyfriend, feelings, girlfriend,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
as I watch you
my eyes so pure, only a few lenses after
my eyes so impure, only a few hurts after
I see the joy that feels..
the great of the great happiness that fills your heart
I guess God had this planned all along
he knew I had to be broken in some way
to be who I am today
and you had to be cracked in so many to discover that hidden beauty in there
and my so many brokenness after and your so many cracked shells after,
love was a visible sight
entwined, enveloped, merged, instilled, mixed in
travelled the years learning
the needed lessons of life
no chalk on a board could teach that
no non erasable marker could conceive that
she became the blood disconnected
she became a friend, non mutual
yet she was the link of us
the bridge of oceans so deep and mountains so high
as I watch you with him
the make of me and you
I see a resemblance
I see a many future planned ahead
I see the eyes, and that look from you
that I have known for so long
that only I know where it's coming from
Categories:
erasable, feelings, relationship,
Form:
Free verse
He whispered sweet folk tales of his days of yore
.........daddy
He signed my name with non erasable ink, in soothing letters
......daddy
He opened links for me to be linked to him when he traveled far, on his business trips
.....daddy
He promised me of places to go, life of a party and happy
of meals that could heal and seal hunger games
...daddy
He filled my wardrobe with minerals to treasure, sensual clothes to wear
How could I not dare
When love was sweeter than honey
When money was bigger than buddies
Sugar daddies waiting, watching
For those naive village girls
Secondary school girls
In the streets of Nairobi
In their big-ticket cars
Honey daddies, telling their tales of lies
Categories:
erasable, girl, money,
Form:
Blank verse
waterfall from skies compete with my thoughts
must be doing something else,
yet here I am,
Here. I am.
Again.
Why do I keep coming back here?!?
A mental shake,
as I chastise myself
I shouldn't be here, don't belong here anymore.
Most likely, I never did, just pushed myself in this place.
But I feel like a homing pigeon,
where this is the only place I know
that I can be and not be.
Where I can hide and expose myself at the same time.
With repercussions? Maybe.
I sit in my own corner and immerse myself
in the chatter, the laughter, and other matters
Nobody really notices me,
but that's ok.
I'm getting used to it.
I guess I keep coming back here
for that sense of familiarity, of a somewhat home,
for the memories.
Of myself in happier times,
of a chapter in my life that I have written
yet somehow botched up. Badly, so badly
that the words are all swimming in their own tears
Oozing ink, drowning.
But it shouldn't surprise me anymore?
This is me?
Of course I will always somehow manage to mess things up.
Some ways more than the others,
'my-esque' askewness
For some, that chapter in my life
is of course negligible. An erasable footnote perhaps?
It hurts, but we all have our own worlds,
where you may not be as important to others
as you thought, as you wanted to be.
There I went, pushing myself again,
only to be pushed away with a
thousand mile barrier of silence.
All along, being dust in that corner.
I gulp a bucket of tears,
because I will not deny it--
how much it hurts. Still.
But like what I say,
have to get used to it.
My hands are cold,
and I wipe snot from my nose,
a dainty trickle of snot, but snot nonetheless,
have had my snot-in-sheets phase,
so this is progress, that trickle.
1234, my clock says,
12345678910, I count to myself
collecting, breathing slowly
needles in my feet and shivering
Gosh, can I get any more pathetic?!
Yes, I have and I bet I will still be so.
No, this is not a pity-me thing,
more like a slap-myself thing
So I can look back, read this
and say to myself:
Others have it harder than you,
yet they stand,
I'm here sitting,
yet others stand.
...
the sky is still drumming the earth with water
and my eyes are threatening to do a duet. Again.
I chide myself, Enough now.
For my bags under my eyes are already so smooth, too deep
Too weathered and soaked for a year.
----> 'slap-myself thing', remember??
Remember.
Categories:
erasable, introspection,
Form:
Free verse
When the music stopped
I could hear you breathing
I could hear us snoring
I could hear the cry of coyotes in the distance
I could hear the whispering trees in the dark
I could hear every pulse beat of your heart
As you slept
When the music stopped
I could hear our giggles
I could hear the singing birds in the waking dawn
I could hear our stories, happy times
I could hear the humming flow of your blood as you stayed close to me
I could hear our dreams, more vividly than ever
As you loved
When the music stopped
Sometimes our lives seemed so slim
And our time felt so limited
Other times, our errors were erasable
Whiting out all the pain, to only love
Categories:
erasable, happiness, love, passion, relationship,
Form:
Free verse
Precious moments fade away leaving only memories behind
Like the summer breeze, the starry nights-
The unspoken thoughts that rise again 'n again in my mind,
Only to make the tears well up and cloud my sight
Memories of better days slip away like tiny grains of sand
The little things you used to say,those laughing eyes,
The soft caresses and warmth of your hand
Are'nt erasable, try as hard as I might.
The fall of the leaves with autumn season
Follow the cycle of nature and reason
Another reminder of the transience of time,
Like the yellowing photos of yours and mine
Are cherished memories that get better with age as vintage wine
This tells me that letting you go without a fight was a crime.
Categories:
erasable, lost love, autumn,
Form:
Light Verse
The fairy tale a powerful message about morals about courage about education.
Some say are lifes are written out is it something permanent like ink
or erasable like pencil is a question i have often pondered. The writtings before of
me are a man unsure with himself lost almost in the art of the good act and
blinded by love to behold the grand illusion. So hmm I have found a new anthem
a new lease on myself. In the mass destruction of my mind the rebuilding has
begun. A new man has imagered in a new surrounding with new opportunity at his
feet. A new generation under him seeking his guidance bonded over music
watered blood but still blood weather a different last name ethnicity. A pleat-her of
rebuilding in the world. So hmm i have begun to see myself know myself in a way
that i have never felt a new phoenix has risen in my soul good riddance to the
negative vibe within me. I can never understand but the pondering and the
images in my mind will remain.
Categories:
erasable, adventure, courage, culture, family,
Form:
Free verse
I'm writing
this in pencil,
Because that's the
way it should be,
Faint and easily
erasable,
Knowing that it will
never last forever,
That's the way life
should be.
Then as we write our
history down,
We can take back,
We can rub off,
All our mistakes,
All the wrong turns
we make.
But we need these
mistakes,
To make us who we
are,
To make me a better
me,
To make you a wiser
you,
To really live and
learn.
I thus so pick up a
pen,
you must so pick up
a chisel,
As I write mine down
on parchment,
You etch yours out
in stone,
And we never again
live our lives in
pencil.
Categories:
erasable, life, write, write,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
1. Shapeless Pain
How I wish the mirror were a cinema screen,
Portraying that which makes up dreams and imagination.
How I wish it had filters to colour my skin,
For now I stare at what is far from being God’s creation.
Murder I can write, or sing it in a song
But writings and songs won’t right what is wrong.
How I wish this writing on the slate was erasable.
How do I erase it without shattering it all?
Tears flow but all they do is corrode its edges.
The dark shrieks my name and soon I’m to heed its call.
The call to end the misery I miserably bear.
Will anyone then at least pretend they held me dear?
My pillow now has turned to a pillar of salt.
I cry myself into the night, the night grows colder.
The regret burns me white as a bright lightning bolt.
I try to be brave and bold yet the writing gets bolder.
“If only…” the words shatter my eardrum.
Oh lord how did I become ever so dumb?
They say you can never heal what you never reveal.
How do I reveal what will only kill my appeal?
How do I deal with pain so surreal and yet so real?
Would I dare give in to the devil’s darning deal?
If only I could turn back the hands of time,
I would play different the hand of cards I was dealt.
Sieve through and through my fingers do the sands of time.
My mind through hell yet my icy heart won’t melt.
As I shatter every mirror, every new one is a horror.
As the darkness draws nearer, every ray is a borer.
I resort to solitude, yet my mind won’t give me peace.
How I wish I could just die and be awoken by a kiss.
Lord knows how I feel, lord knows I’m almost done.
Should I begin to write my will, or stay on the run?
Categories:
erasable, africa, anger, anxiety, deep,
Form:
Rhyme
Black lipstick whispers are vapor
streams spoken gothic complexion
spiraling ether. Trails taper
erratic, split imperfection;
ripples on French Riviera.
Descriptions of love disappear
as streaks of winter mascara
outlined bold against helpless fear
plastered in snow. Vague shadows trace
high above shattered decisions
once thought waterproof. Dry erase
markers exhaust through revisions
uncapped as they’re plucked from a shelf
and scribble each meaningless word
defined by erasable self
written in black on my white-board.
2/20/2017
Categories:
erasable, writing,
Form:
Rhyme
Messages scribbled on the bathroom stall
I can't even comprehend it all
The number is fake
And I never met Jake
But that interpretational art has got my attention
I think there's something I forgot to mention
I scribbled my poems in erasable ink
And some one has changed them
With a marker that's pink
I believe his words right
So my pen says goodnight
Farewell to all
Its always the same in
The End
***No one will read this crap anyways***
Categories:
erasable, goodbye,
Form:
Free verse