lizzie was the lizard queen,
With sons charles and
andrew, all scaled the depths
of true horror scenes.'
revenge in a pill
gossip needs skill
conversations kill
from a deceitful shill
her hateful thrill
conversations kill
reputations to fill
lies spin in a mill
conversations kill
Some people’s lives roll easy
They never care to know
It comes naturally like breathing
The days just come and go
Most people’s lives meet issues
Too large to solve them nicely
They reconsider their views
Drink too much wine unwisely
But I have no advice to share
Sitting here with a silly grin
I imagine my love is still there
Where she has always been
This has nothing to do with reality
But imagination’s a friend
It cares a bit of my sanity
In a way I find funny and sad
Some people’s lives flow easy
There aren’t too many of those
Born wealthy, they weren’t too busy
Hence not to their credit it goes
It’s a gift of fate, I believe
You are given a life to spend
And the time and a place you receive
Are most possibly, heaven-sent
We thought we should give you fair warning
before you pull open this door
that the plums you had saved for this morning
ain’t there no more.
You’d decided you never should trust us
already, so we ate them all.
They tasted as luscious as justice.
Now who you gonna call?
--------------------------------------------------------------
the voice on record that repeats
I'm haunted from a sway to a croon
a phantasm that comes now speaking softly love
cracks through my face first then onto the floor
I'm haunted from a sway to a croon
as the crystal china with my cadence falls
cracks through my face first then onto the floor
I'm kneeling to get cool
as the crystal china with my cadence falls
the winecolored days lost where
I'm kneeling to get cool
this tender and trembling moment's strain
the winecolored days lost where
drinking the shivers left on your glass,
this tender and trembling moment's strain,
within its magic foams
drinking the shivers left on your glass,
a phantasm that comes now speaking softly love
within its magic foams
the voice on record that repeats
~ inspired by the song, "Speak Softly Love"
by Andy Williams, theme of movie, "The Godfather"
Je meurs de seuf auprés de la fontaine ...
I die of thirst beside the fountainhead,
and am least seen where most I am displayed.
Shadows are my substance. I am paid
in ghostly coin to counterfeit the dead.
Under a sagging sky, my dreams are fed
on winds blown far from lands where time has ceased,
in which alone still lives a present, pieced
together from the leavings of instead.
Where most my strength is needed, force has fled,
and those I’ve aided offer me no aid,
and wanting’s self is caged by having, weighed
down hopelessly in place by wings of lead.
Where most I hunger, I am nourished least,
a silent specter famished at the feast.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Happened upon by chance…
The folly that a PS ‘poet’ plagiarized his contest theme, word for word, from an All Poetry poet.
I realized being too nice doesn't pay,
I have ended up being used,
am now shading my skin,
if i behave in a way you don’t understand,
just know I realized all times I was taken advantage of
and now like dust I will rise.
being nice is not being weak,
it's not being afraid,
and it's not being pathetic,
it's strength to carry someone else burden.
let me now travel on the road I never took I see the difference it will make.
Hey there, come gather 'round,
I’ve got a story, n it's got a sound,
my page here, is where the magic's at,
so grab a seat, let’s have a chat!
With Pivotal Poetry, you can follow along,
my rhythms echo, it’s where you belong,
escape with me, let the magic unwind,
in the realm of words, expand your mind.
Pivotal Poetry, it's my voice, it's my art,
feel the rhythm, it’s a soulful start,
dancing through the stanzas, painting with my heart,
each line a brushstroke, creating my art.
In the quiet of the night, or the bright sunshine,
every word I craft is a moment divine,
sharing my thoughts, in this lyrical space,
join the journey, let’s embrace the grace.
To know me better, just listen or read,
in each twist and turn, find the stories you need,
with every cup of coffee, I find my delight,
brewing inspiration, fueling up my night.
A blend of emotions, the perfect brew,
in this poetic cafe, there's space for you too.
So grab that cup, let’s toast to the day,
with Pivotal Poetry, let’s dance, let’s play!
Quote: "Isn’t it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?” — L. M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables
Old age is a number filled with many years,
some with cheers,
some with tears.
I have worn my life with a guard,
now near the graveyard.
I have paid my past debt.
"Isn’t it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?"
I can now daydream,
with a big smile and esteem,
no more mistakes is my new theme.
Counting three , two, one, and closing those eye's
My last breath is shaky and smile is wrinkled,
The dried rose in my book has crumbled,
What a peaceful day to sleep, I still wonder,
The light infront of me is fading as the darkness wants to hug me tight,
It's arm's are on my shoulder giving me a soft smile,
The seven minutes of memories, the laughter's, the tear's, and whisper's are echoing in my mind, whether heaven or hell I must sleep tight,
The death hands over me a clock , ticking, three , two, and one.
Let's meet again in a new universe.
I heard the calico box crab theme
as I nestled warmly by a trout-filled stream.
I saw the hare and tortoise dance,
and wondered if it was romance,
or just an addled dream.
midst silents screams of strings
his hands weave~
an ornate oratorio palace
built from celestial hands
And when the final notes fade
like the last glimmer
of a midnight lamp
the silence glows.
Yesterday I forgot how to fly.
I went to take off
and the sky wouldn't take me.
Clouds too puffed up to let
someone like me
into their streets.
They must have taken them -
my wings.
They think I don't belong there.
I know because that's where
the rest of humanity is -
on the ground.
Now that I think about it,
that was the moment
it all went down -
when I looked down
and saw tiny little figurines
like me,
and got scared
that I didn't belong there
A jukebox ending the silence
masks the dialogue in your mind;
That beat’s a saving grace,
with a chorus left on repeat;
Guitars that are louder than hell
are fresh air that open those lungs;
Finally you exhale,
the sound explodes into a storm;
Snarling they call it an anthem,
put your money where your mouth is!
Sometimes it is joined noise.
Either way? It will fire you up.
Hooking up when you need it most,
nothing matters but three minutes;
Bottled melodic aggression
tends to start a virus;
A theme song for the malcontent.
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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.