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.

 

Acceptance can't write your obituary

Locked in the basement

There’s a dying bird in the basement-
Yet I’m far too tired to go down and chase it.
This corvid has followed me since I was a child,
I admit that I fed it, unaware that it was wild.
Like a thick black blanket — all of these crows
They stood like Gargoyles, over my childhood home.

seeping devotion

Love love love
All my problems spawn from it
My troubles, pains and fears
Love is the denominator
To love a dominator
Is to weep without tears
“You do it to yourself”
Blah blah.. shudder
A fleeting glance
A playful smirk
And my heart begins to flutter
All it takes is to pave the cracks
The fracture thats been there all my life
In my core, pumping out poisoned blood
Blood I can’t let with a knife
Why choose to love still?
You ask
Why should I try?
Because love is who I am

A Boy Made of Art

Your eyes are the same colors as Claude Monet’s “Water Lilies”— did anyone ever tell you that?
Don’t ask me to tell you anything about the painting, I’m not a fucking art history major (I’m not pretentious enough).
But the blues and greens— I swear Monet used your eyes as a palette.

Did anyone tell you your smile was crafted by Picasso?
I know he painted in abstracts, that explains the slight crook of your smile.
I know you don’t like your smile much,
But I’ve always loved Picasso.

Where art thou unknown spellcaster?

If in fact such a female and/or male exists
an insufferable existence clamors for surcease
against riptide of ineradicable anguish.

Living hand to mouth
for majority of mein kampf
(elle ex vee orbitz
roam'n around the nearest star)
punctuated with disequilibrium,
a comma date ting me
with penury and perdition.

Wailin

the whales come in from the ocean
and a man pushes in on the queue
I glared cause we’d waited in line
don’t know if he’d given his time
Whale stranding is a natural thing
sometimes you can tow them out to sea
Whales don’t watch tv
A pod will follow a whale in trouble
17 thousand eight hundred and fifty
stranded cetaceans in UK last year
housing the homeless, feeding the poor
we fondled our thoughts and watched suits on the tv that night
euthanasing whales is a hard decision
so I took my dog for a walk

Imagine

I wish I was imagining
But loving someone your whole life
Is nothing but an unending sorrow
A shattered illusion of happiness
A reminder of what could've been
But never was
A headache that never fades
A fractured mirror reflecting shards of a fractured heart
A fading memory slipping away
like sand through an open hand
A rain-soaked street reflecting tears shed in the darkness
A forgotten chapter lost in the pages of a story left untold
A fading heartbeat echoing in the silence of a lonely room

DUTY

Having sex I didn’t want
With someone I no longer love
I turn my face away
So he won’t see the tear drops
Trying to escape my eyes.

I make the moves and sounds he needs
To think we’re still a couple
But in the hollow of my heart
I know that he’s a little boy
And I can’t be his mother.
ljm

Feeling Lost/Take me home

Take me home
to where I belong
This is my prayer
and this is my song
give me food,
give me music
to change my mood
give me courage
give me strength
so that I could
work a day's length.
Give me the lyrics
and give me the song
that will teach me
the right from wrong
Give me the words
to educate my tongue
teach me oerseverance
to make me strong
Take me home
where I will be stronger
Take me home
not feeling lost any longer
Take me home

Spring fling flinching

There I am, alone chasing the cold,
Snowflakes remains, winter in my thoughts,
Believe me, you'd better ask her to come,
She looks at you, waiting for a call,
With somebody else you'd better be off.

No matter how many times you're asking,
You already know I'd rather not be showing,
My feet always get tangled, it all ends up in shaming,
Although I'm happy you thought about inviting me,
As for me, I'm not as good as you think for dancing.

Whining To Wait

“I hate to wait. It breaks my stride.”
Said Billy Bartimus McBride.
“I do not like to stand and stare
At bright bald heads or flakey hair!

I’m tired of lines while spending cash
To see a baseball hit with ash;
Or being told to freeze my heels,
Just to ride ‘round on Ferris wheels.

To hold my pee and wait for food,
And not allowed to cut, it’s rude!
Or sitting in the waiting room
To see the doc, it’s utter gloom!

Pages

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