I stepped out yesterday,
with no money for food,
no money for rent.
Only a T-shirt, jeans, and shoes,
that's enough, I told myself.
In my bag, my laptop,
my copies, my pen.
I am writing two things now,
one book, Always Go Up,
and one novel about my life.
I have nothing in my hands,
but I have a dream in England,
to become a PhD doctor.
I don't know how I will pay,
I don't know how I will eat,
but I know I will make my dream come true.
Putting all our effort,
Into building ourselves a fort,
Will few problems sort,
If unlocking the gate does not seem worth the effort,
When others won't come out of their fort,
Afraid to trust anyone to guard their port,
When they leave their fort
To drink our port,
And toast another good sort.
I want to tell her how I feel
But I don’t know what to say
I’m confused if I have the slightest will
For sure I know she will be bae
I love her so much my chest hurts
Knowing this why even bother
The love for her could be seen on my shirt
Needing her to understand im not here to smother
Glowing skin, golden hair in locks nothing I can stop
But why would I; if it’s beautiful to me
I would love her till I rot
This life with her I want and need it to be
She is my motivation and my righteous spirit
Makes me strong and more confident by the day
As beautiful and smart as she is she deserves every merit
I love her in every way
One day we’ll be one of the same mind
Never feeling hurt again especially this time
Only birds know,
The Nature of Time,
The merle, the seagulls,
Everyone knows her,
The snail also knows
The nature of time,
Slowness is very useful,
The beautiful deer, too
know this nature,
He mates every season,
The elephant also knows
The nature of time, which passes,
He controls his power,
The turtle doesn’t like it
Let us have manners,
She’s nodding her head,
The butterfly, finally
Knows his misfortune,
His days are numbered.
Only the man runs after Time.
we are meant for meaning
the stars that scatter the skies
are not an empty existence
they plead for significance
demand some purpose
therein we are
far from the Crown of Creation
fallible as such
a nucleus in search of
my only desire at this juncture
contemplate the heavens above
and be found worthy of this gift
Oregon 9/9/26
Do I write from the heart? Do I write as a song?
This voice inside is so far from all wrong.
For once in this life, in these hills that I roam,
I'm not afraid to give my new love a home.
It hasn't been gold, nor grand open plains,
Life was atop this high rocky range—
Learning to do at a half-lived age.
Now, it's all different; the spoils are all gone.
But the wings are all spread, as the wind lifts the dove,
Higher, and higher, above,
To bask in the sky where I feel totally new.
Love is atop of the cool mountain view,
Where I'm in love with you, too.
Now the pair of white doves will soar,
On to the place we've never been to before.
A beautiful freedom that belongs just to us,
With a wide-open sky soaring only for love.
- Debra
The emptiness
between
all thought
is a siren
Life
only gives birth
in cogent
reflection
Her wasteland
is dark
if she traps
you outside
Distilling
the distance
between
body and soul
Neither coming
nor going
existence
implodes
Neither coming
nor going
the schism
explodes
Neither coming
nor going
all motion
is dead
Neither coming
nor going
only madness
— remains
(Dreamsleep: September, 2026)
I only saw the monster everyday
he ruined every single day
the pain i felt when you broke her down
Hit, swing , punch!
Each time tears automatically ran down
you stole the joy...run not a sound
Fear to flight ....clost space
Hands over ears, close my eyes
Make the monster go away
My dolls necks cut...crossed out eyes
a child 2, 3, 4, 5 years old
saw the monster scar my face
torn soul now grown
My story of the monster
Tricked by the tricked, checked by the fool
I opened the doors to your footsteps, thinking I'd feel different about you
Where love would softly welcome me, you molded me in it's cage
Prettier by it's name and fancy game
It all seemed telepathically mysterious until it all turned out to be the same
Bleeding through the marks, on the very frame you drew me hearts
"Don't know, don't care" came soon after crashing about old despairs
Letters written, words worth of thousands of poems
Down the drain to some clandestine affair
Silly how time passes by only for those kicking air, finding something
Binding, and fair in depths of nowhere only to be empty again
I tread lightly now, knowing you hold me there
We were poetry, only when I allowed us to be
But maybe you forget that I tell the stories.
Verse 1
You drive me through the night
Arctic Monkeys on repeat
It feels so cinematic
I'll keep this memory
Your palm is on my thigh - I like the view
Don't let this moment end - I love you
Chorus
And it’s only us and the city lights
You tell me some dad jokes
and you like my smile
I’m biting my lip
checking if I’m asleep
It’s just too good to be true
Oh man, keep doing what you do
Verse 2
You say you want to ride
Till the morning meets my face
You turn the music down
I’m lost in your embrace
You’re looking in my eyes
then at my lips
You’re leaning close to me
and then you kiss
Chorus
It’s only you that I see. In my eyes, in my thoughts, in every place I go. I’ve walked through so many places, met so many faces, but yours is different. Yours is unique. You are absolutely gorgeous beautiful inside and out. You are everything a man could ever pray for, everything that makes the heart settle and the soul feel at home. With you, ordinary moments turn sacred. Your smile is my peace, your voice is my favorite sound, and your presence is the kind of love I never knew I needed until I found it in you. It’s only you. Always you.
It’s only you that I see everywhere I go. You’re my constant thought and my sweetest distraction. You’re beautiful in a way that words can barely hold gorgeous in spirit, radiant in heart, and rare in the way you love. You are everything beautiful, everything gentle, everything I’ve ever wanted. Being with you feels like coming home to a place I didn’t know I was missing. You make my world softer, brighter, and infinitely more meaningful. It’s only you.
Say Something ...
Don’t juxtapose pretty words
because you think
they sound good together
Say Something ...
(James River Writer’s Conference: October, 2016)
I have drank
the milk
in the jug
out of the fridge
I have eaten
the peanut butter
from the jar
that you might of used
with your jelly sandwich
Hi, hell
Hello from a smile I hid
Or didn't, the lie of a bravado?
That I claim like the sense to live
You smile to...
But I've only seen it in my imagination
Hell's stink, and the season of response in loves who
To admit an apology is mine, for another purposes silence
Shade me from a severity
Stoic and furious story's, to collect as a person was
Simple rational, to have a babe's vanity
Privilege before passion, passion before peace, peace before purpose
How did this all happen?
Children on the verge of losing patience, do know a prayer was...
Find out, curses of persuasion, the fate of youth is to come in the hands of laughter
With the integrity of more, and the seed of promises, uncertain of a future cause...
It's only a number you said to me,
you so much younger than I,
yet, thinking about it, I find I agree,
a number in the book of our lives.
I turn each page as if to rewrite them,
but reading the words, they define this inaness.
A boring book of too many pages
in a life of endless repetitive sameness.
My father's book ended on page seventy-four,
a book written in a language I never knew.
Filled with intrigue my mom's on ninety-two,
a Western Romance that never came true.
Several short stories that I won't speak of here.
Those lives cut short with characters undeveloped,
whose stories I would gladly have traded with my own,
if the jacket was changed and the pages re-enveloped.
Yet, I continue to read this story of me,
as the day of my birth is counted once more,
and pages turn with the briefest of breath,
while my body grows old with a mind I abhor.
The paper has worn and the numbers smeared.
Dogeared by time as each sentence entwines,
I'm trying to find the worth of my story,
but it's just so hard to read between the lines.
11/15/2024
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.