Best Text Poems
Just a text to say i love you
I cant help it there's nothing i can do.
You are my best friend
And my love for you will never end.
I just want to know if you love me too
The frost like manna fell and fled
And after it so much was dead
Brown and shriveled the garden bed
We will increase price: all they said
But I saw the crumbling paradigm here
The crutched economy, the drizzling fear
And natures omen so dusty white
The trembling truth in open sight
Be not so stark the paupers scold
Lie to us too, defy the cold
We have country, let us be hold
Though from pole to pole thunders roll
My faith is in God, not what transpires here
The coming kingdom and its Christ now draws near
From flood to famine I see all
Earth's demise and the human gall.
Sensitive ears of nature I have
found.
Poetry is not the sight of words
but the sound.
Spoken,sung or played on a guitar...
Human, machine,instrument or nature.
Any of these are cool as long
as they're written down.
A flute playing, a bird singing ,
a car engine starting.
Someone whipping , chopping,
cooking in the kitchen.
Hear it first, then write it down.
For what is poetry but the text
of
the sound that you've found?
please send me a word
a short simple phrase will do
so I know you're there
I miss the words we once shared
please show me that you still care
03/12/17
Next destination the morgue.
Unsent text
I want so much to knock on the door to your happiness and ask if I can love you too.
Selfishly I want to share what was never mine
How can I ask for forgiveness for wanting to be loved in the way that I can’t
A beautiful cliche of the human experience
I am a whisper who yearns to be a voice
Like a puzzle piece I want to fit where it makes sense but is not correct
I am not an enigma
The secrets of my universe want to be shared
To those who are willing to hold a space for my heart, I grant you all my wishes
i text dead people for advice.
not because they answer—
they don’t—
but because they never interrupt.
i tell my grandfather
about the boy who left mid-winter
and how my ribcage still
clicks shut like a locket
when someone new gets close.
he was buried in silk,
but i like to imagine
he’d wear combat boots now
and tell me to run before love
swallowed me whole.
i ask Sylvia
what to do
with the hurt that has no name,
the ache that sits like a houseguest
i never invited.
i send her my poems at 3 a.m.—
the ones with too much blood
and not enough metaphor.
she doesn’t reply.
but somehow, i feel seen.
sometimes i text
my childhood self.
she’s dead too,
in a way.
i ask her if the monster
was really under the bed
or if it slept in a room that never unlocked.
she sends back
a drawing of a girl
with no mouth.
i know what she means.
my inbox is a graveyard.
a collection of ghosts
who hold more kindness
than most living hands.
they never leave me on read.
they never ask me
to explain my sadness
in bullet points.
i text dead people for advice
because the living
tend to offer solutions
when all i want
is for someone
to hold the question.
You were the first promise I was willing to keep,
my first hope that something could last forever.
You were the first time I opened up like a blooming flower
and gave you every piece of me,
every lie I’ve told,
every nightmare that kept me wide awake,
all of my hopes and dreams stored somewhere safe inside of you.
You taught me that there is no shame in unwinding myself
into someone else’s arms,
that it’s time I exposed my gentleness that I’ve hidden beneath my thick skin,
for it hasn’t seen the sun in years.
You were the first person I failed to find a poem in
because I loved you down to your bare bones and raw heart
and no metaphor could ever satisfy my admiration for every part of you.
You were the first time I wanted to belong to someone,
the first time I could read a thread of text messages like reading my favorite book,
my first kiss,
my first time getting butterflies after just hearing your name.
You were my favorite song,
my 11:11 wish;
a silly girl staring at a clock, waiting for the numbers to be perfectly inline
so that she could wish to forever keep a love that already belonged to her.
Randomness...hehe
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Oh Allie!
Where thou art hath the wind blown thee?
Lost forever in an endless sea
How still I hath ridden through texts and letters
Waiting for thy reply - no word shall render
If thy health is but a dying willow on the meddled earth
I should like to tend thee through silliness and mirth
However, if thou heart is ever set against mine texts
My mind shall go nuts and the poetry vexed!
Text me back, thy sweet Allie-roo
And I shall be forever in debt to you!!!
Your melodramatic, weirdo friend,
Laura Elizabeth Breanderthong
Late last night
I received a text message
from my deceased wife
six feet under
from her coffin
It read
"Hope you find love again"
She is always thoughtful
she says
It's to help me find peace
and not to
look for love
in all the wrong places.
As long as I don't
change my number
she will
keep in touch...
He was our neighbor, just an average guy;
walking every day, he did with such pride.
You cut his life short while texting on your phone;
a tragedy that should have been avoided, I bemoan.
A mailbox you said you thought you ran over;
two sheets for his body it took to cover.
Separated by yards, you tore him apart;
ripped twain into as his family's hearts.
You said you must have fallen asleep;
but there was a secret you couldn't keep.
Your story was later proven to be fiction;
when phone records showed texting, the reason.
Then you got off free! No time in prison!
What the hell is wrong with our judicial system?
Don't let this truth be you; save a few lives;
under no circumstances should you text and drive.
please don't text and drive
she replied, "like, whatever"
services at two
Barbara Gorelick
for Judy's contest
Last night you texted, "Honey, it’s the end"
But I will not cry…my heart will soon mend
‘Cuz I’ve got so many calls
Unlike you, from guys with balls
And tonight, those balls are of your best friend
Text Poem #1-afternoon
Park bike ride Random
Puppy Playdate creek
Romp with young Hippy
kid with boxer and California
hash crisp fall breathe
Dappled sunlight
Sherwood Forest
Text Poem #2-midnight
October full moon wheeling
Search for werewolves in the mire.
Tell a tale at Robin Hood’s fire.
Make a left at Sycamore pool.
At the door for a Dollar;
I’m a disco fool…
Text Poem #3
English grad
Council meeting
Turned into Irish
Fesh banshee
Pub Scout weed
Debates unknown
Live rock n roll still
Text Poem #4
129-minute hellos
Where you been’s
And how’d it goes
So much time
so much space
soon remedied
face to face
Text Speak--A newly developing dialect whereby the speaker can convey a lengthy thought by abbreviating phonetically or through the use of substitutive characters.
Any attempt to speak it out loud is both impractical and unusually difficult,
Hme skoolled
Nvr took nglish
lrnd on cmptr
:-)
omg luvd star wars
brb
ok lol!
Translation:
:-) I’m happy
brb- be right back
lol –lots of luck