Free Of(P) Poems - Poems about Free Of(P)

"the oceans are becoming more salty our planet is turning into a complete gas chamber"- to someone i sound like i am a case of immediate help who needs serious knowledge on what a religious text has to say you see the more the merrier is not the right saying when it is breaking the natural balance oceans are turning salty,...

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there is a clown in every political house he who denies the climate crisis and calls it a "hoax" there is a clown in every political house presenting his circus show to please his own kind there is a clown in every political house who loves to be at balls and parties thus betraying his own nation...

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in one dream this poet saw a horrific scene where i was sitting on top of the house and yet water had reached that high submerging everything in its way in the same dream, i saw a child getting washed away while his mother screaming for help, ready to jump to rescue but is held back by others this poet tried to jump but...

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Driving down the black tongue Of the desert highway Mirages rise Like pools of water on the highway Reflecting even the sky beneath Suddenly, a darkness arises A flatness on the pale horizon; There is no time or purpose to slow down - It rises, and engulphes the world We move into it And it...

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Monsters mind spinning. Hands steady. Stands ready Girl by your side, has no idea she just met her demise Masquerading as sane. His forced smiles of distain In just a few moments you’ll feel a stab in your left thigh Dizziness will overthrow you Should have never trusted this guy. Should have never taken this ride I’ll go no further...

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We married not beneath a sky, But in the belly of the Earth — The Mponeng mine, where shadows cry, And gold remembers sorrow’s birth. No roses bloomed, no organs played, Just echoes where the diamonds wept, And in that hollow heart, we laid A vow so sacred, silence kept. Her name was Lucy — fierce and kind, A flame that lit my wounded...

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Trying to sleep. Feels like a spot or a dot. Or a dash or a splash. Whooshing. Sounds. Could sleep. The scraps. Can’t focus. Feels like a computer. If computers could play in the sand. I’m neither. A computer or sand. I have disappointment. Howling and writing things down. I hold it up all day. Lowering gently before...

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The Missing Ouija Board An Unholy Whodunnit in Verse I summoned ghosts at midnight’s glare, At Cemetery Gate—with snacks to spare. We were just spelling “B-U-R-I-E-D” when—Zap! The Ouija Board vanished... like a ghost on a gap. Who stole my Ouija Board from cemetery?! Was it the undead... or Karen...

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i didn’t think it was bad, till i’m sat in bed flipping through my pictures, wishing i was thinner. i catch myself clicking edit then scrolling the options, moving the dial further and further back until there’s almost nothing left. i would always hate on girls, the ones that hated themselves until i realised i turned into what i swore i’d never be, pointing out flaws no...

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Depression, It’s a silent killer. It’s like being stabbed in the back, But it’s Invisible. The pain is sharp, sure, And your screaming at the top of your lungs, However to everyone else it's as if you lost your voice You're powerless. And so you just sit there; You feel paralyzed, While the world keeps moving, and moving, and moving, and moving, And you're just stuck. That's...

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I need not build a mansion to find my peace of mind. I need no fleet of luxury cars for calm to dwell inside. All I need is a whisper — a gentle breeze blown beneath a clear, untroubled sky, under a tree that leans above a quiet, streaming brook casting a cool, soft shade. The bright sunlight will wrap me in a tranquil blanket, within a...

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A tribute to Malcolm Malcolm Jamal Warner Was his name Heaven sure did gain An angel on earth Now he's up in the skywatching over us To us, he was the big brother we always wanted, you know He was Theo from the Cosby show He was an all-around outstanding guy We never questioned...

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There's strength in being bent, askew, for in nature nothing is straight on cue. Trees lean the way the wind blows. Streams carve the path where water flows. Bending to flex and bow is not compliance, For resilience resists, reworks defiance....

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stubbed toe / during a broken heart— you said pain is pain, offered to kiss both. we nursed the plot of a favorite episode, argued over what constituted foreshadowing. talking to you about the view was mostly talking to myself; you liked cliffs, I liked what they overlooked. on vacation with the lube, you forgot to pack anything else. we ate wasabi from...

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It's to be expected this time of year, mid Winter, a merciless wind straight off the bay blowing leaves left over from Autumn, lifting them like dead prey flicked up by the claws of a cat reliving the kill in its remorseless play. ...

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