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Poetry competition CLOSED 31st August 2024 12:28pm
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ThePalestRider
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Confessions

gothicsurrealism
Daniel Long
Thought Provoker
United States 9awards
Joined 26th Nov 2018
Forum Posts: 182

Poetry Contest

The name of the competition says it all! One new write per poet and poetess. Any length. Confess something poetically here that you would not confess to those at home or at your job. Take whatever confession you have and be creative with it.

gothicsurrealism
Daniel Long
Thought Provoker
United States 9awards
Joined 26th Nov 2018
Forum Posts: 182

Confession of a Schizophrenic

I begin this entry with the premonition of learning more about myself.
What shall I find beyond the fog of uncertainty?  
What have I failed to recognize in this life?  
This is not a life; this is not a dream.  
How impenetrable is the wall that divides my mind?  
That divides reality from dreams.  
Oh, but the dream world allows me to feel what I thought was never real.  
In this world I feel peace and serenity  
and all my characters welcome me with open arms and thank yous  
for the noble heart I’ve always felt morally obliged to offer.  
 
 
On this side of the wall, the sun drapes its warmth over my face;  
its rays blanket my skin, shielding me from the cold and bitter side of reality.  
Oh, how I love to imagine a good life on the other side!    
Always drawn to this concrete barrier,  
I’d jump and grasp the threshold that feels rugged beneath my fingers, peering over.  
What a strange world! I’ll see figures in the distance, laughing, conversing.  
Their silhouettes eerily presented in the moonlight of veracity.  
I can feel the chill of this side assaulting my face.  
Oh, what a bitter world!  
None of these bodies seem to mind the dimness, the cold; they’re happy. How?  
I’ll stare beyond the wall; now and again something will stop, turn and look at me.  
I don’t know what it thinks or feels. It’s too dark for me to know.  
It’ll stare back. I’ll see the whiteness of their eyes, I know they stare.  
 
 
One day two silhouettes strolled along; I could make out their faint mumble.  
They gazed in my direction as their pace slowed, voices faded.  
Suddenly a roar of laughter stampeded my way,
ricocheting and echoing across the world of reality.  
In the cold, lengthy plumes of breath emerged.  
One shook its head; the other looked on;
its white eyes piercing the darkness like two arrows.  
The wall, however; shielded me… as it always has.  
I’m home here. Nothing can hurt me… no judgments.  
 
 
I gaze and ponder at the real world.  
Frigid gusts of rejection attack my exposed inner self;  
their assaults quite overpowering.  
A warm hand came to rest upon my shoulder.  
I turned to the light to see a sun-lit hand,
washed in flush complexion; belonging to a gorgeous person.
Those eyes… oh, those eyes drew me in.  
The smile thawed me. A tear of contentment flew down my cheek.  
The lips of that perfect smile spoke to me; “Come back home Daniel.”
Written by gothicsurrealism (Daniel Long)
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Betty
Tyrant of Words
United States 25awards
Joined 8th May 2012
Forum Posts: 510

My internal monologue is a jealous cunt

     
I threw a beer bottle across the bar    
   
so you threw me    
over your shoulder    
and parted the crowd    
as I strained to    
crawl down your back    
and beat the shit    
my personified    
insecurities    
   
You set me down    
in front of your    
car door,    
and leaned into me    
until I broke    
   
I broke
   
     
and fell against you    
in helpless sobs    
that scared the shit out    
of both of us    
     
And I couldn't say what I meant    
so I choked out shit like    
Fuck that twat,    
Fuck them all    
and …
   
     
you tilted my head    
with your thumb on my chin    
and made eye contact,    
and asked what’s wrong    
as I went weak    
     
baby...    
     
(inhale)    
     
I think every woman wants you    
you    
the way I want you    
   
and I can't say that    
     
can't say    
I’m convinced they    
see what I    
see.have.love.need    
and their pink little tongues    
dart out to    
moisten    
their sweet little    
mouths    
as they    
look    
at    
you    
     
and it makes me want to    
stab all 8 billion fuckers on    
this flaming blue space marble    
right in the forehead with the    
heel of a rage-red stiletto    
   
just to make sure they    
keep their    
fucking mouths    
on their side of the    
fucking street    
   
just. fucking. because.    
   
because    
     
I live for the way your lips    
feel like home;    
     
my home.    
   
and I've been homeless    
for so long that    
I see sinkholes and    
flash floods    
on good rock    
with clear skies    
   
but your lips are      
my sanctuary,    
and I hate how I imagine    
bitches pulling out    
tubes of      
‘looking to lease’ lipgloss    
in the hope you decide    
to rent this space out    
as an AirBNB    
or a Pay by the Hour Hotel    
     
And I can stand here all fucking day    
with a flamethrower and a    
muted guard dog,    
ready to    
barbecue any ass    
that throws itself your way    
     
but…    
     
(exhale)    
   
I think everyone wants you    
the way I want you    
     
So I’m enslaved    
by my own    
fear    
   
and I can't tell you that...    
   
that I am not    
enough    
   
I will never be enough    
could never be    
enough to    
be loved    
by    
someone    
as miraculous    
   
as you    
   
and I    
can't    
   
(inhale)    
   
But the bar crowd  
left us in a dark parking lot    
and I found my way    
to your lap    
in the driver’s seat    
of your car    
   
you put your    
arms around me,    
and I peeled my    
inadequacy over us    
like a smooth second skin    
when you peeled off my bra    
     
I sighed into your hands    
as they slid up my bare thighs    
and your mouth    
moved against    
the shadows in my mind    
as I begged you    
without words    
to shut the voice    
in my head up    
   
for just this moment    
   
and show me    
   
show me    
   
that you want me    
   
the way    
   
I    
   
want    
   
you    
   
 
Written by Betty
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neves
Twisted Dreamer
2awards
Joined 13th Mar 2023
Forum Posts: 34

In summer

 
We dream on
a brown sofa
without any
cushions

our hands
melding into
each other
like long
prayers

seeing
through
a rough
drought.
Written by neves
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Rew
Fire of Insight
England 15awards
Joined 30th Sep 2022
Forum Posts: 534

Ok, I confess...

to being a hairy-arsed, smelly fella            
a resigned, belching, farting, grubby Vet'          
who's seventy-six-year-old eyeballs, yella'd          
with ginned jaundice the nearer death I get,            
           
I muse, picking my toes with a finger        
and sniffing that sweet smell of gross excess,            
rolling from my pit where a smell lingers            
of something dubious, a late night guest?            
           
Not! some cheeky, crusading, chubby lass,            
a junior oik in a provincial rag,            
who doesn't get bylines just dirty tasks            
like BMD's & Obit's, it's a drag,            
           
Yah!, I cribbed those from the  ' Daily Express  '            
There! That's a double, " Ok, I confess..."
Written by Rew
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poet Anonymous

<< post removed >>
Everavalon
Thought Provoker
Canada 4awards
Joined 19th Dec 2022
Forum Posts: 59

The parlour in view

Thundering cues
Provided by you
Affair of the minds
The darkest of kinds

The greener the grass
The absence of class
Sifting through shards
As you wander through yards

Smitten, you woo
for a love that’s taboo
Infatuated deep
Why these feelings you keep?

Fate, our designer
The real star aligner
Flattery and grace
In our secret space

The presence of lustre
In the words that you muster
You sow what intrigues me
You know how to please me

You’re attached to a tether
You should’ve know whether
The world that you’re in
Is worth harbouring sin

Indelible wife
causing you strife
As the parlour, in view
of the transgressions that grew

You string her along
you sing her some song
While enamoured and weak
When hearing me speak

Spiritual lamb
Paralleling my jam
You’re entirely confused
Trying to keep me amused

Good intentions; an onus
Our meetings, a bonus
But you’ll have to let go
of the feelings you show

There’ll never be, completely
A time you’ll complete me
I’m in love with another
He’s a man like no other

Now I send you this quip
From the chalice, I tip
Cheers to the low
of letting me go
Written by Everavalon
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CasketSharpe
Tyrant of Words
United States 15awards
Joined 12th June 2013
Forum Posts: 154

The Call of Pussy Forbidden

 “Early in the morning I have to deal with this Devil shit
The thought in my head while looking at this sexy bitch,
 “She has a good heart and motherfuckin cool
But she’s forbidden pussy, having me break the family rule,

 “The shit wasn’t supposed to happen on that typical day
All I was doing was driving her around the way,
 “It was first usual casual talking-then the conversation got nasty
Next thing I knew I was knuckle deep in her pussy,

 “Ended up at the hospital on the third floor
Found a secluded fuck spot and locked the door,
 “That first encounter lasted a wild passionate hour
And when I got back it was straight to the shower,

 “We’re not connected by blood
It’s just a fuck thing without no love,
 “A situation we fell in-I guess I lucked-up
And if we get caught then both our asses is fucked-up,

 “After every intense fuck we agree it will be the last
But every other day I’m knee deep in her ass,
 “Fucking from one side of the city to the next
As we both become more addicted to each other’s sex,

 “Her mama trying to figure out what’s going on
Hopefully her nosy ass won’t go through her phone,
 “Text messages of any kind is digital proof
That will send the old ho’ straight through the roof,

 “Especially if she knew I was fucking her daughter
Because her attitude towards me will be forever sour,
 “But that pussy vacationing between her daughter’s legs is so sweet
It has us put in night work while everyone is sleep,

 “One of the things that’s fucking crazy
We continue fucking raw, increasing our chances of making a baby,
 “Another part of the situation that’s dead wrong
Is that we are living within the same home”.
Written by CasketSharpe
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ThePalestRider
Twisted Dreamer
United States 2awards
Joined 14th Sep 2018
Forum Posts: 17

"Night's Embrace"

To thee I must confide a somber tale,  
That shadows deep and dark do hold my heart.  
In twilight's grasp, where light and dreams unveil,  
I dwell within the gloom, ne'er to depart.

The night enfolds me in its velvet cloak,  
Where phantoms drift and whispered secrets stay
Within the dusk, where once bright hopes are broke,  
I find a refuge, far from light’s array

No sun’s embrace nor dawn’s inviting gleam,  
Shall coax me forth from shadow’s hidden lair
In darkness’ grasp, my soul doth weave its dream,  
And in the gloom, I find a solace rare

O, let me not in daylight’s blinding glare,  
For shadows are my home, and there I dwell
In dark’s embrace, I find a deep despair,  
Yet here, in twilight’s realm, my heart does swell

poet Anonymous

Related submission no longer exists.

xthan
Lost Thinker
United Kingdom
Joined 4th June 2024
Forum Posts: 7

I confess this heat is insufferable

 

the way it bends and breaks us
into leaving things left unspoken

last night, you confessed it would be
infinitely better laying by my side
in this overgrown garden

falling asleep watching the
starry sky in my arms

in that moment, I felt that garden
trying to crawl out of our opposite
signs alive

as air inside my body fans your words
rising up into flames;

from resigning on a split pole
never failing to draw
each other in.
Written by xthan
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Ahavati
Tams
Tyrant of Words
United States 119awards
Joined 11th Apr 2015
Forum Posts: 15945

Mother-Wound

I.
 
I have been blessed  
with time
but find it difficult  
to believe  
I have been alive  
double-over the years  
my mother lived
 
We were not close
before she gave up the ghost
and having matured  
through deep introspection  
I came to know the whys
of the mother-wound
 
She was only 14  
when she married
my father, who was 16—
normal for that period of time  
 
Their love story was great  
and lasted 20 years
ending the year  
my father retired
their dreams sinking
six feet under
 
I didn't talk or think  
about my mother much
with the exception  
of harboring regret  
that I wasn't older
or at least outgrown  
my rebelliousness  
 
Nor that I possessed  
the knowledge  
of shadow work  
while she still breathed  
 
When I would see friends
with their mothers
retired with grace and age  
I felt pained—
  my mother-wound triggered
and wondered
if given a chance  
 she and I  
 would've been friends
 
II.
 
I dreamt of my father  
immediately  
after he left this earth  
 
He was reading a paper
and eating an apple
like he always did  
 
He turned the paper around
and grinned at me
like he always did
and pointed to a headline
that said,
 
“I leave all my choices
up to God”  
 
It’s the first time
I had seen his face  
at peace
since my mother’s illness
 
But I never dreamt  
of my mother  
until recently—
 45 years after her death
 
We were sitting on my sofa  
she was looking around
taking everything in
like it was the first time
she had visited me
 
It was early spring  
and my door was open  
while we talked  
about everything  
 
She seemed confused  
when I asked  
how she was here
  being she had died  
  decades ago
 
She answered,  
"But I'm not gone
“I'm here with you"  
 
We burst out laughing  
long and loud and hard
over how silly the idea
of separation had become  
 
Just like we were the oldest
and dearest of friends
catching up  
after so much time
 
III.
 
I woke, comforted  
knowing my mother-wound
had finally closed
 
IV.
 
I saw a friend today
her mother on her arm
I felt no pain
only joy for them both
Written by Ahavati (Tams)
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Zombiegirl46
Strange Creature
Joined 20th Oct 2022
Forum Posts: 2

these are all wonderful poems.

Liziantus-Marantus
Ivelina Boneva
Thought Provoker
Bulgaria 2awards
Joined 7th Nov 2018
Forum Posts: 134

Illusion Of His Presence

You abandoned me at my worst,
when you should have gotten to know me first.
My throat is dry,and so i feel thirst.

But no words can fullfill that thirst.
 I have to get my affection first.
But who will give that to me,when nobody has done that in years?

 ""It's new year!"", they said as they cheered.
While I still have nobody near me.
Angel guardian,can you hear me?

 I asked as I shouted in the sky.
But i didn't get no reply. Just the wind blowing in my hair.
 Do you even truly care? Was my past even fair?

 I ask myself as I sit on the bench.
Then,somebody sat next to me.
He asked me,""I love you! Do you trust me?"".

He kissed me and I instantly fell inlove.
Because when you are away,I fall apart.
His eyes shined like diamonds in the sky.

 I felt loved,as I try not to cry. He wiped my tears,
and helped me up to fly. I felt happy,I felt loved.
 But then it all fell apart.

Alas, that dream of  a guy is not real.
But when I am with him in my mind,
happiness is all I feel. Oh,if only he was real.

He could have really helped me heal.
I know,I may seem crazy for thinking that.
But when i am without him,I fall apart.
Written by Liziantus-Marantus (Ivelina Boneva)
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Krowzwish
Lost Thinker
Joined 24th Dec 2021
Forum Posts: 1

confession

Moonlight Sonata is hanging in the window crack
It wanted to reach the ground
It’s okay
I’m not here to nourish thirsty hearts
I just feel hot and wet

Cheap coffee is standing still on the sill
It wanted to take a good photo with a book
It’s okay
Whether it takes the photo or not
It doesn’t get noble
It doesn’t get mad
It just gets cold
waiting to be consumed by the abyss

Thick notebook expects much from me
It wanted to be full
It’s okay
I don’t mind the blank pages
They remind me of my early ages
Thirsty, priceless, empty…
Written by Krowzwish
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