Rawness Poems | Examples

List of Member Poems

For The Water Bearer At The Gates

In a dark world where many fear real authenticity
and cannot handle the rawness of everyday life
there is a true light to be found in every Aquarius.

Many people tend to misjudge them as very careless
and wrongly assume they feel nothing at all or ever
but the power of their love can be quite precarious

In their glimmering eyes there is a very deep truth
that only they might be able to fully understand; 
perhaps that is why they're not always so serious

But because humanity is their greatest love of all
they will work to ensure their water jar pours forth
although with the right people they are gregarious.

This poem is part of my zodiac-themed collection. "To Honor Winter's Shadows" was the first in this series. Pisces is next in this series, though I've no idea when that'll be. The poems I write honestly come of their own accord and I don't like to force my talent. Thank you for reading!

Premium Member Your Fingers Around My Soul

Flavor of rain,  herbal.....clear 
   like broth lingering on your lips ,
          relishing a taste of limey brew--
  its vapor beguiles my senses
                   with undulated abandon...

           For a moment time freezes
        in trembled trance, the monsoon rivering
                 as your kiss seeps inside the bones,
    and in gradual mount of liquid thrill
                       the concave grip kneading
into an embrace within
                one evening's quiver rescues me,

               Reminding  me how surrender
      can be subtle like the slow movement
                     from piety to rawness of gust,
               gathering all that's aflame
 and gentle...           and  I will wrap
      your fingers around my soul
                      through hidden blue of eyes , 
                that cleavage of spine 
dressed in lavish caresses, 
                            that nothing else will fulfill me

...but the nectar of our misted dew.

Premium Member thunder and lightening

you bring me comfort
in your chaos.

with every rumble,
with every crash,
my heart pings with joy.

I feel your rawness my blood rushes faster
then my veins can hold.

I become an adrenaline junkie,
jolted with excitement
alive.

Every strike you send
a message
a sudden transformation forms.

I am one with you,
I feel your power,
hold your energy.

you've set me on a new course
while bringing inner peace


Premium Member 2424

To feel 
rawness of bark 
against my pale cheekbone 
my thoughts on its long endured life 
happy 

standing 
through thick and thin 
constant watch over woods 
keeping everything on point 
beacon

Premium Member Fear

Fearful of going deep inside
Eremophobia could be there
Abandonment might rest in a rut
Rawness still abides in tender places

Premium Member 5 dates

I had few dates (5) before leaving for college.
- thanks again covid -
so my experience was practically irrelevant.

When it came to love I knew nothing.
I was an unseasoned chicken.

In an argument, I had no social currency,
no litany of my love’s starry predecessors to hype.

In a crunch, I can’t always articulate feelings I’m struggling with -
we’re not all song writers or poets.

What I have is my own brand of cringe rawness -
but breakthrough moments require honesty - don’t they?
Ok, here it is:

You’re not a single song.
You’re a playlist,  a no-skip album
that needs playing at max volume.
Your passions, talents and emotions
make the unmistakable soundtrack of you.
And I love it.
.
.
Songs for this:
Baby Steps by Olivia Dean
sunshine! by Hangsung
Genius (feat. Gush) by C2C


Killick

Killick Poetry Contest // Sponsored by: Craig Cornish
Contest Judged:  9/5/2025 12:25:00 PM
( 7th Place )

Written: August 26, 2025


I never chose the burden
but life pressed stone and rope into my hands.
I lowered it into the unsettled sea,
and waited for balance to return.
The sea murmurs of leaving,
of slipping past every safe haven,
yet I stay, steady on hidden weight
gripped by the understated endurance.

Some may laugh at its rawness,
a patchwork anchor of scraps and stone
but I trust its unshaken clutch.
It does not shine,
it does not speak
yet it keeps me from dissolving.
The killick teaches me this:
strength is not perfection...
it is simply staying when all else pulls away.

Premium Member Pool of Tranquility

And then it stopped.
The jagged edge of anxiety smoothed 
by the fall in slow motion -
A tumble into a pool of tranquility.

Suddenly awakened from the angst
by the splash of a refreshing reality;
reminding me that I need to
swim in peace for a while.


The pool is deep and calming.
It soothes the rawness of disquiet 
and the cruelty of dispassion which
has dominated my recent existence.

Resistance melting in the serenity of
the rippling water, I float, 
perfectly at peace and calmed by 
the composure of the landscape.

It has stopped ………
and I can breathe at last.

Premium Member Wounds like windows

Wounds, like windows,
when opened,
let in light and the breath of something new.
But it takes courage
to unlatch what pain has sealed shut.

We board them up,
plaster the cracks,
pretend the draft isn't there—
but silence has a smell,
and you can only hold your breath for so long.

Sometimes, healing sounds like wind
whistling through what broke—
a quiet reminder
that damage doesn’t mean done,
that ruin is not the same as ending.

Air moves different through a wound,
cool against what once burned.
Dust shifts in forgotten corners.
And the light—
not blinding, but patient—
lingers,
touching the rawness
without demanding repair.

Let it.
Let the ache speak.
Let the light crawl across your ribs
and settle into the hollows
you tried so hard to erase.

Wounds, like windows,
don’t have to be beautiful
to be open.
They only have to let something in.

Words Seduce Images Fade

No thirst trap, no click bait, 
I give versed expression 
Silk and lace threaded thru 
each line and question 
Rawness felt, while images 
age and yellow 
Expressed words lasting, soft, 
sweet, and mellow 
I show my skin through 
words I’ll strip 
Describing it with my 
crafted script 
Holding you in whispered 
conversation 
Baring my soul for 
your imagination
Bared hips, and red lips, 
I write the scene 
Poetically giving a 
seductive theme  
Filtered softness, 
is an elaborate con 
Ones beauty fades
as my words live on 
My worth ain’t begging 
on my knees 
Everyone knows who I am, 
rebeltease 
See I carry myself 
with style and grace 
My tongue leaks ink, 
it’s words I embrace 
Spilling from my veins, 
stories of emotion 
Flowing like each ebb 
on a quiet ocean 
Vibing with words 
left feeling spent 
A warm calmness, 
your soul is content 
Seducing with the words 
I’ve written 
Images fade while 
my words still be hittin 
Sliding through one’s mind, 
pictures unfold 
Living forever, my words 
never grow old

echoes

I stand before your door with trembling fist,
the wood worn smooth by lovers braver, whole.
Yet still, I knock-- a hesitant insist,
a hollow echo seeking its own toll.
  Your heart is open wide beneath my hand,
its pulse a plea, unguarded in reply.
But fear has carved a fortress where I stand,
each stone a promise not to break or try.
  You offer me the rawness of your name--
a melody too bright, too fierce to hold--
while I, encased in shadow, drown the flame,
still haunted by a love that once grew cold.
  I knock, though every tap is laced with dread,
each cadence stifling what wants to rise.
My echoes bruise your chest, your breath unsaid--
I see the aching written in your eyes.
  Yet chains are safe; they bind, but they protect--
or so I tell myself to mask the cost.
For every door I’ve left closed and unchecked
was never truly guarding what I’d lost.
Your heart remains, patient and bruised with weight, 
while I, a coward trembling in disguise,
stand knocking, loving-- but too scared of fate,
to open wide and let our echoes rise.

Foraging Tomorrow

Eating everything
on the menu
Dylan asked for more

His hunger
reestablished
leftovers on the floor

A bite into
the future
yesterday a whore

A meal once paid
forever staid
— new rawness to procure


(The New Room: December, 2024)

You’re Invited

Step into my hidden show,  
where shadows dance,  
secrets linger,  
colours spill 
like confessions.  
Each stroke 
a heartbeat,  
each shade a shadow 
of my mind,  
inviting you to witness  
the rawness 
beneath the surface.  

My mask is stripped away,  the downfall began  
before the spotlight ever shone.  
I've laid it all bare - no shame in this truth.  

I seek no applause;  
I am not a taboo.
A painted smile is a façade,  
not the reality of my struggle.  

Here lies the chaos,  
tangled threads 
of thought,  
beauty woven 
through brokenness - 
an open window 
to my soul.  

Feel the weight of my silence,  
the vibrancy of my despair,  
as you navigate this performance,  
unfolding the layers 
that shape who I am.  

So come, 
if you dare,  
witness my world 
unmasked,  
where vulnerability 
dances with strength,  
each moment a story 
unwritten,  
a testament of resilience, 
of hope,  
in this intimate theatre  
of a heart 
laid bare.

Premium Member DIVORCE poetry contest - 12-19-2023

D-evotion In Vain; Open Rawness Consuming; Ex-spouse
I-nconvenience; neither one willed to stay the course
V-intage it is of matrimony failing; now get back on the horse
O-ccurred in percentages that make bookies grin without remorse
R-elationships, however, do end; different destinations like an airport concourse
C-opiously feeding an industry; built on having no recourse
E-verything Could've Remained Obviously Vindictive; I Divorced


DIVORCE Acrostic poetry contest 12-14-2023
Sponsored by: Matt Caliri

Souperb

fresh cut mushrooms in the chicken broth 
steam of aroma tintillating the tablecloth.

onions fried in olive oil, drizzled on top,
tendrils of thyme dip the garlics in chop.

oregano flakes float in lime  green sauce, 
rawness of ginger, with the broccolis toss

a splash of sherry on layers of cream 
scrambled with eggs, carrots in the team

sipping grated cheese lingering in slow
croutons now dampened, soft and low

paprika sprinkled noodles, a hug so warm       
Oh! the bowl's finished, soup-erb perform.

as a perfect medley melts in the mouth,
spoon keeps stirring from north to south.

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