Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.

The stream (all workshops)

This is the stream - you can see all poems on Neopoet, live, as they are created.

 

NEUTERED

oh better not say that
weaving tongue
better not cut my balls off
with malignant algorithm's

better not think lions shredding hyenas
while veiled demons lick assholes for car payments
and boarder children gnash heaping tears of blood
desperate for their parents loving arms
and soft troubled kisses

God looks upon his creation and says
"and it is good"

what will people think
am i a nice person
birthday face
shut eyed stiff
not dangerous, like a gun in the face

The Joy of Doing Nothing

The Winter season has finally come,
Oh, I what a joyful time to idle around.

It’s a good way to relax our nerves too,
Allowing the clouds to carry us through.

Why be conditioned to keep ourselves busy?
When chasing time makes us all crazy.

But doing nothing is a respite,
To clear our mind’s tiredness;
So, after being idle for a little while,
We’re back ready for another life’s bouts.

A Loose Tooth

shelter me in from hand to chin where everybody wins
choose the day the night is far spent in fear I calm all cheers
celebrate on occasion your bringing me down spent from painting the town...,
look into my eyes a devide state responds,

eggs Benedict and orange juice turn to the kettle for living proof
penetrate me thine living doll a soldier of reproof taking a nice hot shower
green is the grass you made for tea hoping sometime that she would marry me
devide us then guide us from living proof another loose tooth

"Nevermore" (Imagery Workshop:Raven)

Our vehicles swarm in a steel hot day
Around the busy round-about
Where the highway meets Route 4.
It was there my eyes saw a raven
Arriving and defiantly posed
Folding his wings behind his back,
In the center of the berm with dead weeds,
Encircled by a wall of stone.

His eyes followed our every move;
Black like the craggy graveyards
He must have come from
(Like that stupid poem we read in school
About some creepy bird and fool).

Soul Knight

Is there more?
To eat,be born, work, sleep .

Growing without being able to edit your past
Eating without getting filled up
Working every time just to survive
Sleeping just to wake up to another reality.

Is that all,
Is there more,are these what the world can offer
Is there still more
Is there another phase

Our Dreams
Is that the real world
Is this present life a fiction
Explanation's?

The Family Curse

Depressing, morbid thoughts.
My Son sweating, overwrought.
Why Our fucking Curse?
Breeding in the Universe.

So many of our Sacred days,
Mark-ed as your Holidays.
None has brought yet,
A Fate that’s well met.

There is a Family Curse.
I could be next in the hearse.
It dogs me at night.
It’s my Family Right.

What must I say to you?
These words I write are true!
Liquor loosens tongues,
They are not The Ones.

Blood Red Heaven

Pearly gates, for heaven’s sake, are so non-existent
Among the stars mister mars is now one assistant
Horses red and of the sea, captured in this vacuum
Muscle men, marble sin, removed from them their scrotum

Holy holes of blackened souls suck up painted women
Planet rings, gold do sing in concert also woven
Icicle swords, ruby lords are universal whores
Razor stains pillar chains, two more black holes make for doors

Love Ya " Weirdelf" (JESS)

cheer up young brother is it any wonder that made Stevie still wonder..,
back side of the porch scene politicize its people scene then below a pillow
the golden noodle pierce you head in fondness to flow very often in a dream..,
the old Caldor right at the door & Two Guys to my surprise put aside those lies
love the ovation set out on a prowl of dedication piercing the inner arrangement scene
it takes a hero to move pillars stand tall & deliver...

THEY CALL IT NORTH, WE CALL IT HOME

Long terrace of hopelessness,
Sheeted with the beams of sand,
Like a brown blanket,
Spread over a grassland;
That we begin to decay,
In the hustle for photosynthesis.
Will this race die away before this harmattan mist is lifted?
It is the question that cloud my mind,
As I watched the emaciated children,
In an endless war with malaria and cholera.

Nutty Thing

beneath the mask
lies a guarded myth
for eyes to seek
then say Ah!

Pages

(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.