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Best How I Feel Poems | Poetry

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The Best How I Feel Poems

Details | How I Feel Poem | Create an image from this poem.

The Fallen Poet

(The Fallen Poet)

Shadows, fall from the east
Winter show, white meadows,
Compelling words lost, in a silent world
Beautiful, Bloomingdale is how it goes
Apocalypto-- my very own limbo
Alone in a field of corpses-
A field of men, women and broken pens, 
Images of angels fallen to their knees

A piece of space, of solitude
The sun a wasted disease
The more I prayed the worse I felt,
Lord, I came before - broken and alone

Heaven sees the secret inside
Lost I may be, yet you see
Offended me, I no longer sing
I wait till all is asleep
My ink is dry, a broken poet, with nowhere to go
Lost in the shadows of snow, frozen like ice
A sheet of paper, with no meaning, no words

My friends, my comrades, how easily one forgets

Like a game of chess, I panicked
Made all the right and wrong moves
I lost my way, staggered across
Love comes and love goes
My heart weaker than, weak
I don't know how I survived before, 
After turning the other cheek
I was no longer whole, forsaken myself endlessly 
I was lost, could not even count on myself

Guidance, I ignored no one believed what's become of me
Alone, I stood in old footsteps after falling down

At times end, I found nothing could put me back where I belong
It's time to get back on offense,
Walk through the new, refreshing old footprints

~*~ 


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2014


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No Reservation

You Are Not Invited

--Latching onto my soul without an invitation--
Elements around my shore expose more than air
--Playing with fire is not a game you will win--

----
Silently she swarms in like a leech, 
Feeding and sucking from the wounds my pain left behind.
She came inside: "Uninvited!"
Here have a drink, and die!
Taste the water drips that sail across my lips 
Plodding vigorously in the open air of her unwanted hostility
Forbidden as one, I noticed her aura a sickening light
Imprisonment that haunted smoke around her own imperfections
The hate and envy, she lives in resides airborne
The sound that she have summoned up hunger  
Brought me near the edge of everything
Feel my pain, a touch of impurities    
Tainted, infected, poisoned passion, her face disguised
Surrender toward serenity, the lighthearted woman I am inside 
She will never take, my full eternal grace
It’s time to reveal that blazing fire I hide
Drown her from the false flown sorrows of gust
Hold her hideous head under water--- burn her false fire out

Never will I turn my back and watch her muster them broken lids
Lungful of lies poisons the wind that flows from her snake like voice
Maneuvering the skies, scheming that snatch in
Like a viper twisting its unmatched curves, 
I strike, like a pyromaniac  --A burning match 
Allowing her to taste a part of the air I breathe 
A waste in the breeze her insecurities 
Trying to destroy what she can't be, what she can't see
At the end, blustery weather will remind her of the sea inside me,

YOU! The Angel, who crawls around like a shadow
Gorging its way into the heart with a charm of greed
Twisting reality hoping nobody sees its true sick identity
Slandering my name as the master of evil and manipulative
Marking my territory, warning others of a cold draft
Grasping the beauty that glows from my soul 
There it stood on the ledge UNINVITED
The devil walked and took my shoes 

:)


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013


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GOODBYE

(NOTHING MORE TO SAY)

I've seen the way you look at me
I've seen the way you look at them
Without wanting to admit, you hate everything I stand for
Lying to yourself, you are sweet, caring and better
Still, you look at me and hate everything I stand for
You are a cheat - A liar - A toilet flushing down rain

You seek and want my attention, yet you have no domain
Your THANK YOU's are cheaper than a grin on a Walmart bag
The light - The light - That shines upon your expression
Nothing more than.....
Sour grapes traveling towards the darkest region of the sun
Yes, simple prunes basking all the time!!!!!
Shaking powdered grapes from lobe to lobe
Watching humping wild hogs who can't eat cake
---Desperately you mock yourself---

Before you draw a blank, let me remind you
You look at me and hate everything I stand for
The way I smile, carry myself every day
I never claim to be perfect, but better with no anvil
You can't bear the way I stand in front of the soap display
I embrace with all my spirit, at the end of every day
I'm so glad I am nothing like you or them
In reality, I judged you the moment you walked in

Before the year ends, I will end my affair right here
I have nothing more to say
I hope you all have a great new year.

TaTa SKAT in the Hat


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2015


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Her Masterpiece Is Her Story

Her paintbrush is a razor,
Her canvas, her wrists,
"I deserve the pain."
She shrugs and insists.

One day the brush will push down,
And it will cut so deep,
That this girl will fall
into an eternal sleep.

She doesn't remember how she started
What brought her interest to this,
How do you discover,
that cutting is your form of bliss?

No one would have guessed that she does it.
No one would have considered this one.
This girl is forever fighting a battle,
that she thinks the demons have won.

Her artwork is all over her,
Her beauty is on her thighs,
and if you look in her old trash,
you'll find her letters of goodbye.

Her masterpiece is quite disturbing,
Her masterpiece is a little gory,
Her artwork is her escape.
Let me tell you her story.

She compares herself to every person,
She is compared to each girl.
She thinks she's hideous,
And there's this boy that is her world.

She was bullied and picked on,
She was teased from head to toe,
Hard to believe that her best friend,
was her one and only foe.

Then later she disliked every little thing,
Her body, face and even her mind,
Soon she saw she was a failure,
and it was just in due time...

That this girl couldn't take it anymore
She'd decided she was done living this,
So one day she went home
and decided to end it.

Everyday for multiple days,
This girl would try to drown,
Hard to believe this girl at school,
never ever wore a frown.

Sometimes she'd just fall asleep crying,
Praying that she'd be enough,
Because she didn't want to leave her family.
She knew about their sweet love.

This girl found hope in small things eventually,
She soon would see this beautiful light,
and find a REAL best friend,
that helped her put up a fight.

Her masterpiece soon was leaving,
Her artwork was almost faded,
and it gave her a sick feeling,
the feeling of being jaded.

She found a boy that actually loved her,
And showed her love exists,
And this boy too had a masterpiece,
placed close to his wrists.

He related to her and she related to him.
She kissed his artwork and said he's not alone,
When she cut herself it hurt him,
Her masterpiece now wasn't just her own.

Her masterpiece effected others,
Her artwork wasn't just for herself,
She now had people, 
who saw her cries for help.

And then her family found out,
So then they saw the art too,
to them they were just scars,
To her they were the truth.

She's trying to be okay now,
She thinks she might survive,
Even though they didn't think
to take away the knives.



Copyright © Madison Marie | Year Posted 2013


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Wishful Thinking

If one can see beauty everywhere
If one can find light in their despair

If one can find strength when one is weak
If at one's lowest still find a peak

If one with many losses can still see a gain
If one feels a love through all of their pain

If one can find calm in a life of distress
If one can see splendor in all their mess

If one can find happiness in their grief
If one can fill the void simply with a belief

If one can slow down in a life of rush
If one can find in chaos a certain hush

If one can find mobility within restrain
If one can find sanity in what is insane

If one can be humble and take a seat
If one can be kind to all that they meet

If one can find life when not wanting to live
If one can be giving with nothing to give

If one can after a slap still reach out
If one can still whisper when all others shout

If one can still trust after all have lied
If one can keep trying after they tried


If one can find a softness after all disregard
If one can find promise in all that's hard

If one can see hope when all hope is gone
If one can see themselves in their kids to live on

If one can be modest even at their best
If one can be willing to retake life's test

In darkness see the moon's glow is from the sun......
No wait; is this wishful thinking, am I the only one?


Copyright © Brenda Chiri | Year Posted 2018


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One Silent Word


He speaks with measured dignity,
one silent word at a time
His palmetto pen tells us: 
Tune out the cosmic background noise,
and focus your mind
on the sound of the silent voice
You most certainly will hear this ...
... did you hear it?
Oh, perhaps you got distracted by the sounds of emptiness
His message in a void
comes with clear poetic instructions: 
Avoid all unnecessary malaise ... cap the chaotic noise
Have a willingness to learn 
one silent word at a time
This will teach us how to unclutter our mind 
Using poetic telepathy,
his priceless pen brings that silent word
to the surface of our consciousness 
Not every sound we hear in this world do we need
The Silent One says: 
take it one silent word at a time
True understanding comes
when we allow expansion of the heart
Enlarging our capacity to transmit love,
allows us to hear 
the best unspoken words we never heard of
One silent word ...
when spoken at the right moment of time
can be so life-changing sublime
Poetic telepathy ... gives us the ability 
	to understand every unspoken word 
written between the lines
One silent word 
connecting 
to another unspoken word ... 
Pure poetic telepathy in our mind 
Enlarging our capacity to receive love,
allows us to speak 
the best unspoken words we never spoke of
Where his silent pen stroke stops — 
at the sacred melding of two minds ...
let these silent words
be spoken in unison, always at the same time


This is a tribute to my talented poet friend, Silent One


Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2017


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Across The Border

"La Voz"

La Noche sin agua --- I spill my loving lips
Dancing, laughing and celebrating life 
I am his queen, aka' dulce Nina
A night he must not forget 

Lunesta ... Suave ...
He savors every moment;
Then questions my capabilities 
Suddenly I feel like a refugee in my own house!
History and bad company, repeating itself
He wants to ruin the beauty of leadership
America on top, Latinos on the bottom
"Legally," he says, he'll welcome me 
Law abiding, I  pass the proper speech 
Stereotyped every time I share my race
Casting my poor nationality under the Rio Grand, 
A wall too tall, in which my people continue to build

After I give him my all
Children, love, support
The best tortillas in the house 
He offends a lifetime of memories
I'm a skillful woman, I dance with no music
   I love to work, I take the field 
   Picking cotton, like there's no tomorrow 
   I will continue to paint rainbows
And enjoy every color in my garden.

Today, I've forgotten what Mexico looks like
However, that does not cut him from 
accusing my race of planting too many trees 
Calculating, calling Latinos criminals, 
Forgetting his own sin, he wants to win
Insinuating we're robbing the American Dream
This is where I belong!!!
Go ahead and build more republicans
I'm already on the side I want to be
Born and raised in the USA

~*~


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2016


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My Inner Voice



I leave the daily hustle and bustle of a city's cacophony of sound. And go to where the leaves softly rustle in the breeze... and no one else is around. When I'm alone, I find an inner peace that raises my soul to a higher plane. And anxiety's attacks slowly cease free from critical critiques and disdain. Seclusion fuels imagination shaping reality within my mind. And it's a feeling of liberation, unrestricted by rules of any kind. Whenever I seek solitude by choice I hush the whispers of my inner voice. (Sonnet) May 2, 2018 The Beauty of Solitude Line Gauthier


Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2018


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bloody wrists

I'm sitting on the floor
I'm crying so much more
trying to erase this pain
trying to forget your face
sitting here with the blade in my hand
running so slow blood dripping down
in a deep red color
flowing freely the way i want to feel

I'm sitting on the floor 
holding my hand out
I'm holding a bottle
a bottle filled with pills
I'm crying so hard
the pain is unbearable
I'm feeling so weak 

I'm sitting here on this floor 
holding a blade
crying like crazy
trying to take this pain away
I'm trying my best trying to fight
my eyelids feel heavy
my door is so far
the whispered yells to far
falling deep in to sleep

deep..deep..deep..deep
I'm laying on a bed
I'm so confused 
where am i?
my throat feels sore
my body screams in pain
I'm looking around
I'm in a small white room

i try to move,
my hands are stuck
i try to get up
i feel restraints 
what happened to me?

I'm laying on a bed
trying to get up
my head hurts
a nurse is here
a shot is administered 
i drift to sleep
I'm in the psych ward
why am i here?

I'm lying on a bed
laying so still 
my wrists hurts to no end
I'm crying out loud
screaming and cussing
my body hurts
i can't remember

all i remember are my bloody wrists
and a bottle of pills
all i remember is the pain i was in.....






Copyright © GRACIE GONZALEZ | Year Posted 2013


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Pretty Poet

Where Have All The Pretty Poets Gone? 

A real poet are you, charismatic over everything you serve
Showcasing, a rainbow that folds the perfect world wide perspective
I'm talking about flawless literature at its best no typos, no muss
Just a page full of boredom and rust
Thank you for having Lunesta all up in my head
It's like reading a poetry lesson, from the extras of The Walking Dead
An image frozen cold, waiting for inspiration to hit like Al Capone
I'm bored of your flora flamboyant language rocking me like stones
A psychedelic trip, into the odyssey of a blind man's tale
A home where I am pushed to open a dictionary & thesaurus with braille
Wondering what you just said, --Hakuna Matata, what a wonderful day! 
  
The best rocket pen poet in the USA Today, 
Launching words like no tomorrow, a fool of wordplay and sorrow
A godlike guinea-pig genius, delegating poetry politician style
Perhaps, one day you will become a famous writer
Burning books, like a cigarette lighter
Until then, enjoy pushing your pen as if it was cocaine, 
Snorting up and cutting up the food chain in vain
Patronizing and ignoring those, for better or worse
A solo cup stuck up another cup, -won't even look my way
Correct me if you will, it's no big deal
Just don't forget to give me the same respect I offer you

Until then my pretty poetic friend, I kneel before no one 

By: ME
5-25-14


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014


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I Share My Soul

A pair of morning-doves preen and prim
snuggled close on their favorite limb.
And cooing low, wake a sleeping sun
giving praise for a new day begun.

A slip of a ghostly moon rides low
wearing its light like a pale halo.
And Sol ascends master of the day
hailing dawn with His brilliant display.

Vapors shed crystal tears on the grass
depositing dewdrops clear as glass.
And blooming flowers imbue the air
with a sweet fragrance beyond compare. 

Tall lanky palms of feathery leaf
are clad in a green southern motif.
And skittish crabs play tag with the waves
darting in and out of flooded caves. 

Sipping wine while enjoying the show
we greet the day with a happy glow.
And as romance and nature combine
I share my soul with my Valentine.


(Rhyme)


Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015


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Within Her Heart

Within her heart is where I wish to be
To dwell inside the garden of her soul
Where each soft heartbeat plays a symphony
And all around is beauty to behold

The sunshine of her love would keep me warm
My one desire, to take life's pain away
Consoling her when clouds of sadness form
Removing troubles of each stressful day

Should something cause her fragile heart to break
I'd gather up the pieces tenderly
With love I'd smooth the sharpness of heartache
Then put them back together carefully

Within her heart is where her beauty lies
Her love, the light that shines within her eyes



   original poem by Daniel Turner




Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2016


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One World

Love is not a color,
No hue, neither a race.
All of our blood is the same, 
That runs deep within our veins.

If we could lift up each other,
And know that we all care.
If we help our sisters and brothers,
There's a bond that we'll share.








©2013 Honestly JT


Copyright © Honestly J.T. | Year Posted 2013


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Sleeping With The Enemy

SLEEPING WITH THE ENEMY

See what you want to see
Don't Look at me!
You are staring you are watching;
Eat what you can't be

Come sleep by my side
The whole world is our playground
Don't make a sound
Stop clowning around

In the mist of the night,
You keep me from crying

I wipe off the taste of your lips
You kiss me starting at my inner hips
You broke me in a way..
I hate to say your love is better every day 
I deny you, the one thing I can't say

You are my pillow
Where I rest my legs,
Can you feel me~
This moment feels right
I just want to die here, 
Die here ~ 
Die here by your side

I sleep with my eyes wide open,
I sleep with the enemy by my side
Come here and hold me
After you watched my worlds collide
Come here and love me
I'm yours till the end of time
You can rock me!
Under the moon and its rhyme
I put it all to a side, how I hate you inside
I can't let go
I just want you to know
I'm a fool in love with you
Even if it doesn't show!

~SKAT~
12- 7- 10


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2011


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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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Insanity or Death

Insanity or Death

Life begins with insanity~~
~Your soul is kicking and screaming, 

Ready to exit with the touch of human hands.
Insanity rides on a gallant stallion ready to pant.
Hides in the mind, mourning its captive soul. 
Ready to breach over holding its breath.
Projecting in and out without a guide.
Bites away at the feast, enchants for freedom.  
From the lips……….....
Taking length against a world of dilemmas, 
Contrasting to a never happy end.
The epidermis cover every wall of insanity.

To live, to eat, and to suffocate it determination without air.
Dramatically hallucination against its will of no wells.
Until it realizes it can drink without water.

No further needs a slumber.
The mind-bends and unfolds to ordinary jolts, 
When left to human consummation.
Insincerely bidding and cutting to die in the sleep.
Is how it pleads!

Graves where dreams have no meaning.
Caves where goodness can be redeemed.
A temple of misguided fortune.
All respect lost to this infection,
The patients’ weight distracted from an antidote.

The madness begins too finds admiration-
That makes catastrophe go on and on.
The psychosis of the mind and mockeries of them will never be gone
Dictating in everything wrong,
Layers of cramped bricks, level the isolation.

Death drags its feet off into this infinite helix world.
A source of light breeding out of darkness.

"Sanity is no friend of mine!"
Insanity is earth herself, 

Where there is life, there is a reason, 
Where there is reason, there is madness,
Where there is madness, there you are,   
Feeling nothing………………...
Lost in darkness................ 

~Your soul is kicking and screaming
Life ends with death~~

(first I feared life, now I fear death)


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012


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Toddler Sky

-Toddler Sky-

Down where I sleep, 
You hold me, embrace my every way
The Marks up on my skin
You caress, taking away from the ugliness

Watching the simple breath, when I breathe
Breaking the ice, soothing my inner peace
A sweet spray across the paleness in my limbs
Holding the warmth, I've been loved throughout my life.
From picking up sticks to the walking stick
My loving dear I know you will always be there
A few wheel chairs, when broken bones mend
You know my every cure*
Walk with me across the hall
Through the oldness, and the boldness of every color in the sky
Thank you for taking me as I am
A light twinkle' every time I feel the colors of the rainbow drip
Now a newborn takes his form
In you I find the strength to stretch my arms and reach for every star

When happy moments fail, 
I embraced the colors I found in you
I make out every tree, and wonder why and how?
I close my eyes to imagine the fun of chasing fireflies
Tonight I'm keeping my prayers simple, cute, and innocent
I will count sheep and search for sweet lullaby dreams
Smiling like a 3 year old this very moment, 
You think I'm having "Baby Blues."
My loving dear, thanks for having patience,
Painting my way down a toddlers sky
Every time  "P M S" hits

~SKAT~


Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2013


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Can You Spare A Teardrop

I cried for so long, so many nights,
and now no more tears can drop,
I'm all out, do you have some to spare,
cause you know once I start, I can't stop.

I go on for days with a heavy heart,
no tears fall, though inside I'm crying,
I feel empty, hollow, dark inside,
a soul dead, and still is dying.

Can I fill a bucket from your well,
the sun came out, dried up my rain,
I'll take them carefully, try not to spill,
cause I've got a need to ease the pain.

That feeling of washing away the sorrow,
with trickling tear-water, clear and cool,
soothes the soul, relaxes the ache,
can I dive right into your swimming pool?

I need to pour out your flowing brook,
to keep me crying a river for today,
I want to hold despair in my hands,
please let this melancholy feeling stay.





Out of Water contest
placed 14th





Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2015


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What Is Love

How can I answer what is love
it's part hope, part apparition?
For what it truly is, kind of
simply defies definition.

Have you ever felt so alive
that it was almost too extreme?
And giving in to passion's drive
have you ever pursued a dream?

Have you ever received a kiss
that left you dancing on a cloud?
And filled with spontaneous bliss
have you ever laughed way too loud?

Have you ever floated on air
or felt warm and gooey inside?
And when strangers just smile and stare
have you ever near burst with pride?

Have you ever felt fully whole
falling head over heels in love? 
And felt such bliss within your soul
that it rivals heaven above?

Have you ever felt like crying
when someone special didn’t show?
And if it feels like you're dying
you won't ask what is love... you'll know.  


Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015


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SOMEDAY


As this week closes into hours of pewter night may the moonlight touch your lips while I sleep in the arms of dreams unrefined. Though I may not be with you on misty evenings caved by my pride, but think of me as I send you this whispering sigh of an embrace feathered by the sky... I humble myself in your presence not, but, wait for me to disrobe this façade, while you can, then… Remember days like other days when the roof of blank shades begin to unwrap this cloistered body hidden in a pile of sawdust still reeling like a glistened dragonfly. The light bulbs of time's avenues are streaked with marquees of a name where the lattice of my wishes climb into a garden of your moistened eyes so green. Enter the 100 in a ROW contest #2 Contest Sponsor: PD Linda 7/6/2016


Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2015


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The Hardening of a Heart

How long does it take
for a heart to harden?
for muscles to loose
that supple tone
to lose elasticity
to become...stone?

How long does it take?
I wonder
But I know
your heart has hardened
I never would believe it to be true
No, not you
Not...YOU
Your heart was my home
the soft walls my comfort
the rhythmic squeeze my treasure, my pleasure

But your heart has hardened 
Turned...to stone
But even a stone would hear my cry
a stone would shed a tear
a stone would soften
with the beating of my breast against it
with the deluge of my tears wetting it
with my sobs moving it
a stone would hear
and come to life
to quiet my inner strife
but not your heart
NO, Not YOU!
Your heart is stone
I wonder if it yet beats
and why do I write this poem?
Perhaps you will see
Perhaps you will read
Perhaps you will be softened
and bleed

I write because...
My heart yet beats
for you...

Eileen M Ghali


Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2014


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Let My Quill Always Write Even If Unheard

A very wise woman once said I must write just for me, let there be no other reason for e x p r e s s i n g my soul- For I’ve l o n g e d for this passion to continue for eternity, and at my worst is when my journal seems to be full. LET my pen proclaim my adoration for only my heart, let my verses s c r e a m my insight for only my eyes to see- If there are souls who would like to t e a r my words apart, then I shall sit back and let it go very calm and quietly. No other can determine MY worth as a poetess, I am who I am and happen to appreciate my benediction- Tonight I will s o f t l y lay in bed and sincerely digress on the meaning of what my QUILL releases without restriction. I may not be famous or hold a popular moment in the light, I may not be the best at every l i t t l e thing that I do- I can sure be stubborn and I’ll admit, not always right, but s e r v i n g my internal purpose I shall ALWAYS continue. My pen loves to rhyme and my parchment loves my pen, I’ve become a woman with whom has great worth- Then please tell me why I seem to get so upset when, I am condemned for what I WRITE when f e e l i n g at my worst. I am a child of God who pours sunshine upon every word I write, if there are others who don’t see the value in my words- I will no longer be losing any more p e a c e f u l sleep at night, and I will continue to write just for me, EVEN IF UNHEARD. Written By: Laura Loo Date Written: September 19, 2016


Copyright © Lu Loo | Year Posted 2016


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The Sky She Sees Is Beautiful

 To be at peace with myself again..


To ..

 Smell the scent of fresh-cut grass
 Hear the crunch of falling leaves
 Wear garlands of yellow daises
Feel the crisp air of the breeze.

Taste the rain upon my tongue
as drops drizzle on my lips
Run barefoot in fields of green
Welcome back the bird song bliss.

Leave behind shallow mud puddles
Roll-up track pants to my knees
Be happy with who I am
and the simple life I lead.

Because...

In simplicity lives memories
of who we were back then
Before adulthood took over
Kidnapped each sweet boy and girl.

Oh this little girl inside me
In dark woods it begs and screams
She knows nothing of the cluttered world
Her young heart belongs to dreams.

Her thoughts as snow     Untainted!
Her words   are loud and clear.
The sky she sees is beautiful
and love is everywhere.



PS: Just a simple poem :)


Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2017


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Moving On

I'm not selling a house, i'm leaving my home.
Happy times together, months spent alone.
Morning sickness, baby loss, labour and birth
Planting my seeds in good strong earth.
Mess in the kitchen, prams in the hall
Mud on the carpet, pen on the wall;

First we were two, then 3, 4 and 5
Not forgetting the pets, no longer alive.
Babies then toddlers, starting to talk,
Rolling, crawling then learning to walk.
Feeding my firstborn at 5 in the morning,
Here comes the milkfloat, a new day is dawning.

The scent of lavendar in warm summer air 
Makes me think of that first one, big eyes and brown hair.
Planting some snowdrops in a place cool and shady
Done just in time for that quick second baby.
Yellow peony in May for the one that was lost
Daffodils and hyacinths for the boy who came last.

Tantrums and tears, sometimes theirs, often mine
Sleepsuits and socks on the long washing line.
Apples and raspberries, potatoes and herbs
Hunting for woodlice, new homes for worms.
Deep winter snow piling up at the door
Morning sun in the garden, it's spring once more.

So now we are going, new adventures to come
But i'm not selling a house, i'm leaving my home.

7th april 2018









Copyright © Anna Greene | Year Posted 2018


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THE RULES FOR 8X8

Compose eight lines consult your muse
Subject matter is what you choose
Just eight syllables on each line
Follow these rules and you'll be fine
Pretty pictures you do not need 
Your words only so please take heed
Only plain text no fancy fonts
And that you'll find is what she want's.




Written on 10th November 2018


Copyright © Tom Cunningham | Year Posted 2018