Best Loneliness Poems | Poetry

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

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New Loneliness Poems

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

Cold Rain, Sop My Loneliness by Crisci, Andrew
Loneliness by udo, jay
Loneliness by Melanson, Jessie
Loneliness by Kaleem, Dimpra
The Faces of Loneliness by Wings, Broken
LONELINESS by Gyabaah, Gerold
Nook And Loneliness by Asuncion, Bernard F.
Hope is the Cure to Loneliness by Earnings, JW
Loneliness by DA, Karen
Loneliness by Goss, Christopher

View all new Loneliness Poems

The Best Loneliness Poems

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Silent Page

Silent Heart

Sad, as it maybe, I had to break my OWN heart, 
Too many nights, I sat there all torn apart
A dream girl, 
Sitting under its own corrupted auspices sky 
You the poet, in disguise
Telling white lies about, your love for me
Saying I'm a born from the sky....
A match, a queen, your muse, your everything
I'm no good, I admit this once more, 
Your advice, I forever adorn 

It's time to follow the crying crows and praise what is left
Afraid to listen my rhymes weren't cutting it, 
I release it all!
Your smiles, words, and worn out shoulders
I walked away
Silently--
I acted on
Without a word, in a fetal stage I awake
Tonight you carry a tune for others
A story of a man who stole my soul of sins
A poet, I long forevermore
Always, you will own the only sound that still beats inside
To live alone, in silence, asleep in my own world
I had to let go, 
-Of him, whose name I whisper in darkness
The only thing that remains is the echoes of pouring rain

Too many reasons, writer's block, took full moon
You are a poet, from another lifetime, 
Down in Mandalay, I can no longer ask you to stay
Reading everything about my life, silent and old
Alliterating poems, greeting every dark shadow, normally yours
Many nights I waited, long for the moment of my OWN return
Instead, I found myself alone
Trying to dust off yesterday's verse, yesterday's dirt
Cobweb remains on my page
My pen now sits like a twig
No motion, since the day I decided I am not worthy of the wait
You the poet, who walks my way
I pressured less of me every day
Like Aspen, a forever winter cold! 
Isolated to the world
In your eyes, you wonder why, 
I trace the white smoke standing in your place?

To savor your words, once more 
It's too soon to breathe again. 

I hope you understand, 
How can I continue to love when I don't even love myself?

By:PD


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014


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Winter Blues - I Cry For Color



I shiver tears. My joie de vivre; summer esprit’s lemon zested lilac flirts and coral whispers have escaped me~ grievous gray now flows through my veins. I shiver melancholia, entombed with my winter blues in the dark dreamless hollow of my frowning igloo. Draped in decor of dispirited drear I wear a wistful woebegone fog, an overcoat of overcast moods sown of sneering sunless, scentless days. I weep wall to wall in the long light-less nights alone with my lonely longings~ my psyche withers a little more each dull day, I shrivel. I shiver sadness, my colorless tears cry out loud for color; yearning for watermelon sunsets, pink sands and swirls of marigold kisses, for rainbows to color my lackluster laughter and fireworks to celebrate in my mirthless eyes, for Sol’s warm hands to tenderly undress and caress me and lay bare my soul straitjacketed by winter blues... Susan Ashley January 4, 2018 ------------------------------ ~ Second Place ~ Contest: Free Verse: Winter Blues Sponsor: Laura Loo


Copyright © Susan Ashley | Year Posted 2018


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Windswept Heart

I always answer
     Without hesitation
          To adventure’s calls
Through waves that toss
     Winds that batter
          I survive squalls

On a sea of emotion
     Alone I swirl
          Feeling blue
My rowboat has two oars
     Two benches
          Shouldn’t it carry two?

Sky and sea
     Speak of eternity
          But they have each other
I would give all
     Just to know love
          And sail with another




*Written September 17, 2017, in the aftermath of Hurricane Irma.





Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2017


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Loneliness

People milling around I  do not notice them, 
my face is turned to hide my loneliness,
Am walking in my own despair
No one else intrudes on my thoughts of 
"How they were"
 

Days, months, years when  love mattered
Loneliness was just a word
One word amongst many not used, thought absurd
Now I live this word

My heart is broken Feelings are numb
Trying to be the person I once was
People see my dimpled smile
Cannot see the ripped up emotions
Of reality.

Loneliness is an illness
Medication cannot cure
Non viral yet can spread easily
Prolific between young people
The elderly also.

Symptoms
Eyes are looking dead
Face looking down
Shutting out interference
A hug helps but non returnable .
Responses non existent
Living dead.

To be lonely is more than being alone
Loneliness can kill your soul


Copyright © Seren Roberts | Year Posted 2014


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In The Flesh

Introducing: Casarah Nance & Poet Destroyer

Scars of empty promises are darkened by your kiss.
Torturous touches are meant to soothe my pain.
It is without gain, without pleasure, beyond measure,
You are the puppet master, strung on dark days, a haze.
Specter of solitude, you confine me with your magnitude,
What purpose do I serve, is slavery what I deserve?
Tell me your intention, sate me with your perfection.
Shed a light into this soul starved sanctuary,
Come, whisper your words in my ear, complete me…

       A sweet surrender to your call, a will of solitude
       I lead the way, cutting strings attached to the light
       Touching every breathing strand stressing yesterday
       Giving you room to fall into my designated despair,
       Adding, to your creeping gloom, I give and lend pouring pain,
       the kind of pain, that begs for blades
       Abhorring the taste of life, your flesh empowers my darkness
       My intentions are nothing more, than a shadow bearing strength,
       Smiling at your tears, caressing your lips,
       Taking from the closure your soul seeks tonight
       Blind! You will become to the misery, in this barren place
       The pain of rigor mortise will blend against your pale skin
       A slave without shackles,
       I concur with pleasure to feed the hunger, you give
       Forever, I am DARKNESS

~A Poet Destroyer collaboration~



Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2015


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Kiss Loneliness Goodbye written by Tim Smith and Seren

I sit here and ponder the days that have past
The many loves that I had, that just didn’t last.
One really sticks out, wish I had another chance
Treating her so differently, I’d show her romance.

I loved once a man, who just wanted to play
At being romantic .life was just foreplay.
Thought a kiss would be enough for his turtle dove
Not thinking about feelings, whether I wanted love.	

We would start a family, having a baby or two
We’d live on the hillside, with a beautiful view,
We’d grow old together in the home that we build
Giving my life meaning, I’d be so fulfilled.

He now thinks that he wants me, I am the one
to fill up his heart to make me his own.
Promising me a home on a hillside with a view
Yet he hasn’t vowed that he would be true.

I’d hold her and cherish her til the day we depart
I’d profess to her my love and give her my heart
Romantic nights on that hill gazing up at the moon
Our days filled with laughter, frolicking in the lagoon

Sure he now promises me love for ever after
A life of joy, happiness and full of laughter
On that hillside we’d sit, watching the world go by,
A family, two dogs at our feet, kissing loneliness goodbye.

Penned by Tim Smith and Seren


Copyright © Seren Roberts | Year Posted 2014


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SHADES OF MY GLOOM


In vertigo of night, in their riddled trance 
Boldness of petals melt on washed-out shades,
As faces etch a quiet gloom in varied hues
Capturing splashed oil, neutral and bright
While I gaze longingly at a portrait…
Man and wife , as if  holding a child almost
Unseen …hidden through a float of blue-white.

Through dimming pain, a view lights up for a time
Where orange of moonlight quietly slips
Amid this rosette outburst and aching gray,
With blossoms strewn along pale candlelight…
How languid colors begin to mold my thoughts
Drowning in a pang of loneliness… I ask 
In silence..are the couple ,the babe dying?...dead?
And the fusion of tender, lonely motif allows me
To weep inside, captive in a gasping moan... the kind 
Which shapes a tone between life and elegy.



---------
Frank Herrera's  Contest: YOUR PERSONAL BEST of 2016
Written 5/09/2016        Re-submitted 10/18/2016
POTD Awardee
------------------
Inspiration from the painting, Les Amoureux en Gris
Artist: Expressionist, Marc Chagall ( illustration included)


Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2016


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Living Hell

Damned by the devil's curse upon my heart
I pace the lonely bridge twixt love and hate
Stalked by death's shadow from the very start
Forsaken by the guiding hand of fate

My restless soul sleeps in the tangled thorns
Nursed by the acrid milk of bitter weed
Tormented nightly by old lovers scorned
And haunted by a score of sinful deeds

Pray, take me now to storm the gates of hell
Confront the wicked one and question why
Twas reason for my birth under his spell
To live a loveless life until I die

I curse this lonely life given to me
The fire of hell is all t'will set me free


  an original poem by Daniel Turner


Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2016


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Like A Tree In The Desert

Prick me with your vivid green awareness
Let the white pins that needle me
Diminish into their foggy sham

The bridal wreath that scented our commitment
Now doused in unkept hopes and promises
Moss sprouting venom from hurts battled

Like a fish floating in space with no oxygen 
I swam in currents without you 
The tank occupied with endless dark clouds

Fraught with fear and loneliness
Love now submerged deep in the recess of my mind
Unclear what is sacred what is trash

I prayed you would see the light
That my white knight would return
This battle is fierce and yours to fight























Copyright © Carol B. | Year Posted 2017


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In Woes And Throes Of Sorrow


I rise and fall like melancholy tides in ebb and flow of wistful disrepair, our separate in consciousness divides, the whiff of grief fills broken-hearted air. Neglected now, heartstrings' rawhide, I mourn with briny beads that water my dismay, eyes teary drizzled mist, inside forlorn, my psyche pierced by thorns in love's bouquet. Whatever will I do, this emptiness..? A gnawing hollow where my heart should be. My lonely preys me like a lioness, a simba stalks this lost love refugee. Soft morning sun does gaze into my eyes enlightening the depths of agonize. Susan Ashley November 17, 2017 ------------------------------ ~ Second Place ~ Contest: Best Sonnet Premiere Sponsor: Laura Loo ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~ Second Place ~ Contest: Your Best Sonnet October 1 - December 31, 2017 Sponsor: John Hamilton ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~ Poem Of The Day ~ November 18,2017


Copyright © Susan Ashley | Year Posted 2017


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Endless chorus of tears - Diana Ross tribute

Her life turned upside down, endless chorus of tears, jilted she hoped he would stop in the name of love. What was once endless love was now songs full of fears. Her baby love left her lost like a lonesome dove. Jilted she hoped he would stop in the name of love, pleaded you are my everything, remember me. Her baby love left her lost like a lonesome dove, suffering from crushed love hangover agony. Pleaded you are my everything, remember me, will a time come when you tell me that you love me?. Suffering from crushed love hangover agony, cried out it's my turn now to drift into the sea. Will a time come when you tell me that you love me?. asked do you know where your going to with my heart? Cried out it's my turn now to drift into the sea, hoping for this good morning heartache to depart. Asked do you know where your going to with my heart? Who will touch me in the morning so tenderly? Hoping for this good morning heartache to depart, wished one shining moment would save her destiny. Who will touch me in the morning so tenderly? Told him I'm still waiting and will all of my life. Wished one shining moment would save her destiny, but his reflections only caused her further strife. Told him I'm still waiting and will all of my life, ain't no mountain high enough for love's surrender, but his reflections only caused her further strife, said I'm coming out, tired of being a pretender. Ain't no mountain high enough for love's surrender. Chain reaction of truth hurts, increasing the strain. Said I'm coming out, tired of being a pretender, she burnt her old piano, to stop bleeding pain. Chain reaction of truth hurts, increasing the strain. What was once endless love was now songs full of fears. She burnt her old piano, to stop bleeding pain. Her life turned upside down, endless chorus of tears. Silent One 31 March 2018
Challenged by Mike Gentile to write a pantoum with song titles by Diana Ross. This is a pantoum uses 21 song titles by Diana Ross. Song titles are listed below and highlighted in bold in the poem. The poem has 12 syllables and rhymes, which are not pantoum requirements, but increases the challenge. Ain't no mountain high enough Endless love Baby love stop in the name of love I'm still waiting Do you know where you're going to I'm coming out Touch me in the morning My old piano It's my turn When you tell me that you love me good morning heartache chain reaction reflections remember me surrender all of my life you are everything love hangover upside down one shining moment The pantoum consists of a series of quatrains rhyming ABAB in which the second and fourth lines of a quatrain recur as the first and third lines in the succeeding quatrain; each quatrain introduces a new second rhyme as BCBC, CDCD. The first line of the series recurs as the last line of the closing quatrain, and third line of the poem recurs as the second line of the closing quatrain, rhyming ZAZA


Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2018


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The Perfect Friend

The Perfect Friend ©

Today I found a friend 
Who knew everything I felt
She knew my weakness
And the problems I’ve been dealt.
She understood my wonders
And listened to my dreams, 
She listened to how I felt about life and love
And knew what it all means.
Not once did she interrupt me
Or tell me I was wrong
She understood what I was going through
And promised she'd stay long.
I reached out to this friend, 
To show her that I care
To pull her close and let her know
How much I need her there.
I went to hold her hand 
To pull her a bit nearer
And I realized this perfect friend I found
Was nothing but a mirror

Written by Shannen Wrass
Copyright © 1995 Shannen Wrass. All Rights Reserved



Copyright © Shannen Wrass | Year Posted 2013


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Images of feathers

"Once upon a midnight Poe"

Underneath the midnight mask, I remove the makeup at last,
The moon is anvil to my mood, mooring along the vacant vast 
I lay the Gin and Tonic by the bedside asking for more,
I hear a noise, a lost voice, the echoes of no rejoice,
I couldn't brush the light coming from the cracks under the door
I gave it some thought, 
My eyes twinkle, towards the tinsel tiles on the floor
Seemingly the light seemed to be deeming distance of resistance
Curiosity came in crawling and caressing 
To sense and taste of sinful skin 
Everything then grew thinner than thin
On the spur of the moment, I hear a whisper, my love is near
"Darkness there, and nothing more."

A nerve impulse hits the wall if nothing nary, nevertheless 
I sadistically, stagger a sullen movement, even so
In this moment, Edgar Whispered, "nothing more."
Many nights, I dram of demonic demons, demanding answers for
A sad --sadder voice, sits and whines, with the wind
"Merely this and nothing more!"
A notary, nauseate moment, sea sick, shipwreck sensation
Secular suicide spreading like gossip, sailing through my veins
Evilly and twisted, "This it is and nothing more" - that remains

Tweaking and repeating, the speeding of needing
My drugs of pain and passion, to end the delusion
Of the self-inflicted - bruising from the voices of my choices
I hear the whisper, a selfish whisper, asking for Lenore
How many nights, he comes into my room, dress like A Raven
Painted and tainted like the midnight dreary
Reciting the excitement like The Bells, of Annabel, in a rush
Never, never, nameless here forevermore, in my dreams
Under my evil doing skin, like the sum of sin is how it seems

On the nights, my soul mate does not appear, 
The anchor drowns and torments me with tears
I travel up in fear, of the fear, when my ghost is not near
Rattling and trembling, by the bedside, 
On the grim side of the mental moon, when in gloom
I scrape up my room, screaming to the bleeding, 
From my heart, who needs a killing, 
From a feeding and the feeling of letting Poe, go!

By: PD
Inspired by The Raven


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014


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Lonely Dreams

I never knew following dreams could be this lonely,
But up on the hill, looking back, thank God I'm not the old me.
If the tears will fall, let them be;
I believe this is God's plan, follow your dreams.


Copyright © Kevin C. Martin | Year Posted 2013


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The Cemetery Was

The cemetery was
Before my very eyes, stillness
Autumn leaves a blanket on the dead

The cemetery was
There, as it always was there
From childhood till now

The cemetery was
For me, my escape, comfort and refuge
Among the strangers and the dead

The cemetery was
My pathway to the heavens
The gateway to my dreams

The cemetery was
Until that one fateful day
My sanctuary

The bullet wasn’t even meant for you my love
You are dead none the less, beneath me
I, who weeps at your grave, lifeless too

Now the cemetery is my hell
Tormented by what ifs
I breathe the autumn frost only

That one day
Our daughter will become
You


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2016


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4 in the Morning

At 3am you become your own philosopher, categorizing
the different genres of humans and wondering
if you fall even remotely close to anyone on the spectrum.
You debate with yourself the meaning of life, again,
and then regret everything you accomplished the previous day.

5am, that’s the breaking point.
The sun climbs out of bed, and chases away 
the comforting lure of night and all dreams of slumber. 
The damned birds start peeping and you curse and sigh, 
watching the room change colours 
until you must get up to join the others.

But 4am, it’s the gaping time of day 
that even the insomniacs deny.
As if night took a deep breath and forgot to exhale,
the silence is quieter, the darkness more pure.
You hide under covers and stare into emptiness
trying to make something of black space
but your mind remains impossibly blank.


Copyright © Whirl Wind | Year Posted 2014


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I Do Not Exist

I have been erased
no face
no name
Silence invades

I speak yet have no voice
no soul
no heart
Darkness I embrace

Invisible to the mirror
Into society I peer
no one sees
what does not exist

Asleep or awake
there is no existence to partake
Possessions collecting dust
While what does not exist rusts

Who am I, that never existed
That bleeds but never lived
Murdered by love
no matter

I do not exist


Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2017


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Thank you


Thank you “And if the sun refused to shine” Music finds my sleep and calls from a bedside table, slits of light through the slatted blinds create mini horizons on the wall Time has caught me once again as Led Zeppelin reminds me “I would still be loving you” For the morning throws me back to reality, the longing in my heart which faded beneath the moon has returned to view this bed of only one figure, reaching out for what was “When mountains crumble to the sea” Finding the rocky coastline depicts the feeling in my heart, as I stumble Tear filled eyes a constant, empty arms waving freely in the air to the haunting rhythm of a plastic clock radio “There will still be you and me” If only music were truth, and truth was a melody, easily sung regardless of tempo or flow Key changes finding a bridge of lonely footprints that take me to your memory, remembering the good, remembering the days, and forcing a smile, for each day I whisper “Thank you” The italicized lines are from the Led Zeppelin song “Thank You” which inspired this piece 11/14/16 For “The Poet’s Ear” poetry contest Sponsored by: Greg Barden


Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2017


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A Wind that Blows Loneliness

The wind blows softly over the lonely,
Many suffering, think of them only.
A world of chaos, racism and turmoil,
Utmost egomania spoil our toil.

An old man groans, no decent place to live,
Are there relatives? No comfort to give?
Blow softly oh lonely wind, they care not,
They are comfortable, and all forgot.

Somewhere a child is crying his heart out,
Can anyone guess what it's all about. 
Is the child hungry, lost, or cast aside?
Much abused, ill-treated, or love denied?

There are millions of cries heard on the wind,
Alas no one bothers: most are unkind.

11 December 2017

Poem of the week 11 December 2017

Placed 4


Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2017


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Soul Speak


Allay ...

Allay, my heart ...
  Pray, hush your cadence ...
    For the sacred sake of unsated thirst
      Beg thy thrums to be not now abounding.

Each dream comes haunting, dusted in dusk
  Every sentimental pluck of your syrupy strings
    Beckons her back to my yearnings, interminable
      Every wistful pang is strummed by her affect on me.

This place, dipped in the dripping mist of morning
  Echoes things quite beyond my words ... of her
    'Tis no forte for flowery phrase can capture it
      No poetic capacity worthy of its description.

It pulls and mills my spirit like the ebb of the briny blue
  But to its most dark, stinging, brumal depths.
    She was such a visceral part of my fibre ...
      From the quintessence of deep, dreaming slumber

To the first nascent meandering of each wish-flavored morning
  (Her sublime taste still seasoning my mouth ... and my mentalities).
    From the uncommon commonplace of teatime sun in her tresses
      To the chipped-edge porcelain puddles of the mocking moon

Cackling at my fevered foolishness for its glint in her eyes
  Or for her skin, when she'd dip her toes in pale pools of twilight.
    My core breathed her like youth breathes rebellion
      And the cells of her press on my emotions, infused my blood

Coursing like the fire of a drug through my arteries.
  Never ... ne'er did I touch her
    But to write secret stories on her skin
      Fingertips spelling out sexy words in cursive

Or focusing the intent of my heart to a simple caress -
  A brush of her shoulder, a graze of her cheek
    A stroke to put her hair behind her ear
      A pillow-deep hug - full of warmth and security

A gentle pat of her knee
  Or a grasp of her hand ... like heaven!
    Each space corresponding with mine, like perfect dovetail.
      This place, to some, is just that - a place

But it was OUR place, you see, and it sighs of US
  Deeply, forlornly, achingly ...
    The wash of the waves is but the whisper of her name
      The salt-sea fresh air aromas are her perfume

The feel of the cool sand under each footstep
  Is but a soft memory of the tender, tousled passion we shared
    And this dark, misty day
      Is the remnant of my heart ...

The melancholy that drips from my spirit to the well of days gone.
  I shall not come here again, though I love it so ...
    Oh, how I adore this place and all it means
      But if I ever return, it will claim me ...

It will swallow me as time has swallowed her
  It will transform me to this damp, dour, graying mist
    And I'll be lost to the wind and the dark
      Just as surely as she is lost ...

To me.




* FIRST PLACE in the "Best Free Verse Poem October thru December 2017" Poetry Contest, John Hamilton, Sponsor. *

* Written October 5, 2017, and submitted November 11, 2017, for the "Choose A Topic" Poetry Contest, Russell Sivey, Sponsor, (not yet judged). My topic is "Heartbreak and Loss". *

* SECOND PLACE in the "Broken-Hearted Poems" Poetry Contest, Broken Wings, Sponsor. *


Copyright © Gregory R Barden | Year Posted 2017


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Precision with Double Rhyme Sonnet

The Double Rhyme Sonnet is a sonnet that rhymes not only the end of the lines but also the front part (metrically)! Of course, I would be looking for imagery, good grammar, meter, etc.; however, the most important criterion is that it be written precisely with both end rhyme AND front line rhyme using the standard English sonnet rhyme pattern of ABAB CDCD EFEF GG and of course, using Iambic Pentameter; therefore, the rhyme on the front is on the stressed syllable (the second one) and NOT on the first syllable.

(My entry: A Double Rhymed Sonnet)

The starkness of my world now that he’s gone
pervades in all I see and hear and feel,
but darkness swallows all until the dawn
invades.  Then what I’ve lost is made more real!
I yearn for Moon’s return - her tender light
to keep me soothed, for sunshine is my bane.
I burn with thoughts of him.  I need, each night,
to sleep away my longings and the pain.
He left, and now he’s far away from me
across the globe.  Oh, how I love him so!
Bereft am I, but he perhaps feels free!
My loss means where he is tonight shall glow
sweet Moon, caressing him - as once did I,
and soon, I’ll face the glare from morning’s sky!

For the "Enter Your Own Competition" Contest of  Cecelia Hopkins-Drewer


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2017


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God Knows Where I am-'Lost In Phantom Night'

Walking corridors of derailed delusions
I welcome my created confined confusions
For I am lost in phantom night...

I dance with demons deploying death
Desirous destruction of my life’s last breath
Consciously cocooned manic moonlight...

A bipolar bliss within tangled time
Waiting for a savior of an angels chime
For I am lost in phantom night...

Secluded silences in a whirlpool of winter
My starving soul soaked in a lachrymal linger
Tormented tears taking fatalistic flight...

Only God knows where I am
Devoured by lions this gentle lamb
Farewell to this nefarious night...




June.07.2017
God Knows Where I Am - Contest
Sponsored by: craig cornish


Copyright © Winged Warrior | Year Posted 2017


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The Vagabond

The deep delved path winds in the wood,
chasing with ghost-breaths and leafy hoods,
arbor-brawn the winnowed path crooks along;
whispering with what future song?

To ill desire and inches from hope,
plodding the cool of Earth alone?

...and the road behind pretends to love,
waltzing with garland worlds,
old friends long time not heard ---
gray and forsaken on the projector wall,
how wan this dying rose!
and pallid the day which broods...
Old Lucifer playing his lute at every high road;

Life had once played a tune more fair;
and soft the notes in the morning air,
with wife and child ---
the world had watched without despair,
a man to be called a man,
with land and two strong hands
to till the new earth-wares;

But his monsters had come 
and bid him to stare too long into the glitter of gold,
and the gusting crooks in the road...
alone, forsaken...
a mere shadow of a man;

Though they called him king,
(he cried alone)


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


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Cinquain IV

water murmurs softly, through the cool of exhaled breath, against the stones it whispers, secrets secrets, gently spoken, lonely unbeckoned words, hidden deep within broken hearts, aching aching, melting sorrow pours viscous and endless, caressing emotions that hide within within this emptiness sprouts the seed of desire, where blooms love’s flower, bathed in sweet water
04/01/2018


Copyright © James Inman | Year Posted 2018


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Forgotten By Tomorrow

She stands at the edge of the precipice,
looking down towards her future.
The last tears that she will ever cry,
falling from her eyes, 
then falling into oblivion.
She watches them drop 
as they disappear forever.
Yet, she laughs in the face of death.
Would it really matter if she took the leap?
She has been forgotten by tomorrow.

The wind blowing at her back,
pushes her to the edge.
Almost agreeing with her final decision,
and encouraging her to jump.

A thousand thoughts and memories
racing through her mind.

Her first day of school.
Her tenth birthday party.
The lonely, awkward days of her teenage years.
The day she discovered poetry.
The moment she first saw him.
The day she thought that she was worth something.
The day when all of that became a lie.

Every memory 
that never made the pages of a history book.
She has been forgotten by tomorrow.

She exists to no one but herself.
In the blink of an eye, she decides her fate.
Her feet leave the ground,
and yet, she did not fall.
Out of nowhere he appeared,
and carefully grabbed her hand.
Pulling her back to reality,
saving her from the brink of disaster.
He held her, as her tears stained his jacket.
Old tears of sadness,
mixed with new tears of happiness.

She was remembered by yesterday.
Before she was forgotten by tomorrow.


Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014