I have reached through years,
Loved you before I took breath.
Will I find you in this life?
I am here waiting!
I know you without knowing.
I too reach through years for you…
Copyright © Rosslyn Angus | Year Posted 2024
I'm broken
Like a porcelain doll
Her straight A's shattered
Along with her perfect image
Society
Has always called me odd
And now there's a reason
But apparently it's not valid
Because for 13 years
I kept strong
But 13 years wasn't enough
Not for them
And not for me either really
My messy hair cut short
My makeup unblended
And my tears refusing to fall
Copyright © Eliana Rivers | Year Posted 2024
I used to be tired all the time.
I used to be tired all the time cuz we would talk all night.
I used to be tired all the time cuz we would make love all night.
I used to be tired all the time.
I’m tired all the time.
I’m tired all the time, cuz you aren’t next to me.
I’m tired all the time wondering what you’re doing.
I’m tired all the time hoping you’re ok.
I’m tired all the time.
Copyright © Derek Hammond | Year Posted 2024
So you want to hear a story, first of all there is no morning glory. Your feet touch the floor its cold as ice as is the water, what a surprise.
With sleepy eyes you look for your clothes, best thing just follow your nose, they are the same ones you have had on all week.
Don't look for underpants, there are none there you never had any but you don't seem to care.
Of you go down the street, following the other kids with wrong sized shoes on my feet.
At least the classroom is nice and warm, Mr Brown is our teacher small man with glasses and a plywood suit (herring bone) he asks the same question he dose everyday, who as not had breakfast today. All the grubby hands go up in the air, we know he has biscuits to share.
At last the dinner bell rings, lets see what today's dinner brings. Cheese and onion pie with crumble to follow, wish we could have the same tomorrow. But when dinner is free, paid for by the state you eat whatever is put on your plate.
If your lucky you have a penny or two spend off to the corner shop with it's penny tray, I could buy the lot , if I had a quid to pay.
I was never good at school, especially maths, Mrs Banks said your as thick as a plank.
Leave school go down the pit, I would be lying if i said I wasn't scared a bit.
Life of a Lancashire lad tha knows, not sure it would have been the one I chose.
Copyright © Stuart Booth | Year Posted 2024
Storms came with their own sounds.
Songs came with their own rhythm.
Those sounds raced the heart of the lost one,
But the rhythms calmed the heart of the lonely one.
Not experiencing the task of life,
May seem joyous .
But it's indeed a great relief ,
To learn a lesson from the life experienced.
Life approaches us,
With what we are not ready for.
Reminding us,
That karma is a great demeanour.
With regrets one might decide to give up.
But with great joy one is encouraged to live up .
The beauty of life, should not stop you ,
But the unbalanced feeling should encourage you .
Though giving up may be relieving ,
Living life is a beautiful feeling.
Copyright © Thelma Abraham | Year Posted 2024
A Christmas Gift
P. G. Borgia
Dec. 2011
© 2011 P. Borgia
1
An evening of peace, city streets now still,
Snowflakes settle upon your window sill.
Snuggled in your rocker, so pleased to see
A day’s labor of wonder, trimming your tree.
2
Gleaming ornaments, lights sparkling bright,
A shining star, a blessed sight.
Toys piled high; your child will be thrilled,
Ladened red stockings on the mantle filled.
3
Raising your glass to warm glowing embers:
‘Here’s to Santa, he always remembers.’
Grinning at the thought, your eyes gently close.
Your work is finished; you start to doze.
4
Less than a wink, awakened by a tug,
Your child excited, giving you a hug.
“Look, look, Santa was here;
Presents and toys everywhere.”
5
“Can we open them now? Can we please?”
“If I get one more hug.” you playfully tease.
Another big hug, a sweet bribe for sure,
Moving hand-in-hand to gifts on the floor.
6
With a smiling peek at your child’s wide eyes,
Each gift opened another surprise.
A sense of warmth envelopes your being,
Praising your Creator for what you are seeing.
7
Gift-wrappings and ribbons strewn here and there,
You slowly move back to your rocking chair.
Your child stops playing, gazing up at you:
“Did Santa bring you a Christmas gift too?”
8
Drawing a smile with gleaming pride,
Your little Precious moves to your side.
Searching your thoughts, you simply stutter,
Moments of silence, you begin to utter:
9
“Once upon a time, on a Christmas day,
Santa brought presents on his reindeer sleigh.
One special gift was a stocking of cheer;
When gently I peeked in, my eyes did tear.”
10
“For inside I found a beautiful child ,
Eyes so cute and soft cheeks with a smile.
Today I cuddle that Sweetness in my lap...
Dreaming a child’s dream, enjoying a nap.”
Copyright © Peter Borgia | Year Posted 2023
What is this atrocity,
What is this uniquely unparalleled monstrosity,
What is this element with undefined velocity,
What is this singular, peerless challenger of viscosity!
What is this implement: almost an oddity,
What is this matter, a goofy comedy?
What is this contraption; is it a commodity?
What is this apparatus - is it for cosmology?
Why, this foolish widget is a philosophy,
Though it is nothing more than a frivolity.
Why this subject is a gossipy,
That is an answer... just in paucity!
Why this entity is... just a curiosity.
That this item exists; there should be a policy!
Copyright © Tariq Tayebi | Year Posted 2024
“She is mine”
The words of the Duke spoke heavy over his dine
The shocked face of the girl was evident
The love in their hearts was non-resident
Did she have a choice?
How could she speak over her father’s voice?
Should she rejoice?
She watched her sister’s foot ebb away
Being bound, to make a man’s way
Would she also stray?
His gaze pinned on her
Her new dear.
Her world, now a blur.
Does her choice matter?
Or will her heart scatter?
She could not hear the chatter.
Will he love her?
Or will she just be, to satisfy his pants’ stir?
Why is her brain considered an amateur?
Is it not his fault that she could not grow?
It is his fault to think she cannot have a frown on her brow.
That she could not glow.
Was she his achilles’ heel?
Or was she just a measly meal?
Or a perfect steal?
She could not stand the man
Ever since their courtship began
She knew his plan.
She knew the life that awaited her presence
Its the hell’s entrance
Misery’s Sequence.
Her labour would be much
To provide his brunch
Or perhaps his lunch?
Either way, she needs to have endurance
Without one reassurance
To provide him assurance.
And all of this because she is a woman?
Because, every month, she bleeds crimson?
Because she needs to produce a son?
The unfairness is real-
without fail.
And this shall prevail.
For a long long trail.
Copyright © Tiyasha Kar | Year Posted 2024
A cheat, a lie, a love so divine.
An escape from reality only so true,
I wrote this poem just for you.
A kiss that sparks, this is true bliss
from the heart. I think to fly when
problems arise, I spread my wings
to show a surprise.
My wings hold emotions so strong,
I forget how to act, understand I
feel under attack. You deserve the
the world, like an oyster and a pearl.
Can we start over? Give me a seed
to water our flower, it’s most precious
to me. Give me time to change and
you will see.
Copyright © Sasha Anderson | Year Posted 2024
The wind was blowing east
Then it kissed me on the cheek
Why was it all Greek?
Was it blowing from the west?
The wind lifted me up,
Every single little part
Of me was free
With those three words
You gave me to the world
The wiles turned to smiles
The beers turned to cheers
That one little decision
Was a big gift for me
You knew about vision
And little did I see
You were done being fake
Flashing lies, now turned to break
You stayed with me, but what is the stake
By you, what did I make?
The wind was blowing west
Then it hit me in the chest
Did I know the least,
That is was blowing from the east?
The wind hit me hard,
Every single little shard
Of me was gone
With those three words
You fed me to the birds
The sweat turned to tears
The drinks turned to beers
That one little decision
Was a big hit for me
You knew about precision
And little did I see
I knew you were mine from the moment I saw you
But you knew I was not from the second I was true
We were supposed to be together
But my heart hit the ground
Not light as a feather
Without a sound
You jumped and bound
Away, yet I want to say
Come back
come back
come back
You were done being nice
Flashing smiles, turned to ice
I stayed with you, but what’s the price
By you I have been hurt twice
The first, was when you chose me
Little did we see
The second when I was needy
You left so speedily
And now I’m here,
All alone
Can you even hear?
Can you even see
The light that shone?
Can you find me
Copyright © Robert Joseph | Year Posted 2024
A Poets Duty
A sense of structure within a theme
Imagination likened to a dream
Tell a tale set the scene
From life experiences we wean
A tale full of wonderful words
Gelled in rhyme to suit the nurds
A free verse of considerable worth
Exploiting the value of earth
Stories that may be old or new
Containing details not so true
But gives the reader a sense
Of the writer’s thoughts condensed
A poet’s duty is immeasurable to their self
But scrutinized and judged off the shelf
Of published works penned by them
read by those who would condemn
If your words make you feel good
Gives you a feeling of maybe you could
Be heading down the track of knighthood
Or voted to a heavenly sainthood
Copyright © Kevin Fairbrother | Year Posted 2020
As I walked up the window your smile reflects the sun, remembered me of Saturday morning walk during run, me enjoying doing jokes and fun.
Changing after hearing: ,,you talk too much", but you seem not caring the words of sucks'.
Months developed, delved in mind. ,,Say something, should I?" I, rough thing solved: ,,*Hide*"
But you pure soul, covered a mole, by saying:,,You are really creative".
Now I am 5 walking next to my mom: ,, You too sensitive you too ''persepective".
Copyright © Adna Demiri | Year Posted 2024
When whispers shout out pain in silence
And echoes rejoice in gladness
A crowd of smiles in absence
Yet the back bone spares no one regardless
I get to understand what it means
To be African in beams.
When lonely nights strike
And songs of sorrow envelop with pride
A lake of tears floods with spike
Yet the backbone attacks in raid
I get to understand what it means
To be African in beams
When heaven finally opens up
And hears the cries all in a wrap
A song of cheers elopes from their hives
For the backbone a shadow now cast with knives
I get to understand what it means
To be African in beams
Copyright © KELLY RUTH | Year Posted 2024
Let me start by saying thank you for today
Never have I thought there was a better day
Today is my day
Not to think of yesterday
Not even even thinking about tomorrow
Only to appreciate today
It is my first
With your comment may even my curse
Let today be my everyday rehearse
Copyright © MYK MO | Year Posted 2024
The day keeps my worries at bay
The night brings them out to prey,
Inside my decaying brain
Which does not play.
Give me hope or give me nothing
Do it quick or I'll know your bluffing.
Bring me peace or bring me something
For all I imagine is the crushing.
The tear in my knee never healed properly
So how could my homemade concoctions ever heal my poverty.
Hardships! Hardships! Heartsick.
I believe in true democracy
But I want someone to control me
Of the hardships desecrating my mind's eye.
I am weak
For my list mentions weight lifting
But never meditating.
Copyright © Nicole Seefeld | Year Posted 2023
Avtar Nasha Mukti Kendra is a haven for those seeking freedom from addiction. Our centre in Kanker provides a caring environment and personalized support for individuals on their journey to recovery. With a dedicated team, we aim to help individuals break free from the chains of substance abuse and build a healthier, brighter future.
Copyright © Avtra Nasha Mukti kendra | Year Posted 2024
Standing outside his house a loaded hearse
Waits to take him on his final journey,
His chauffeur leaning against the gleaming limousine,
Expelling wreaths of blue smoke through his nostrils.
Further along the way eager young faces
Crowd round a temporary sound stage,
Dreaming of their first steps to stardom.
Head down hobbles an old woman
Crossing the street,her stick
Clicking with every painful step.
Oblivious to it all,burbles a baby
In her buggy,her mother
Frowningly wrapped in her daily concerns.
All on the way to who knows where.
Copyright © Denis Bruce | Year Posted 2005
I was broken today,
By something so nice.
Music, meant for happiness,
To break me, only a few notes, would suffice.
It's happy mood, it's writing,
Made me feel so empty, like I was dying.
I had the urge to vomit, to let it all out.
I wept, broken, all from my weeks of doubt.
For all my pain, all my feelings, were buried within,
And sometimes all it takes, is a few notes, to break in.
Here I laid, broken in dispair,
No one knows, how much I still bear.
For I hide them, my feelings.
But when no one sees, my guard is down.
And once my walls fall, my heart no longer bound...
So then my pain, pours from my heart,
Feeling like it was peirced with a dart.
For all alone, no one to see,
My true self, it comes to me.
Why do I cry? For others' happiness?
Because I wish, I could be loose, from my emptiness...
Copyright © Daniel John | Year Posted 2024