Competition Ends 28th December 2018 12:48pm
Go to page:

Show Us Your Conflict

poet
Nari
Spellbound
Fire of Insight
United States
2awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 2nd July 2018
Forum Posts: 90

Poetry Contest

Show Me Your Conflict
On any topic such as life, love labor, loss. 2 Entry Max.

poet
Nari
Spellbound
Fire of Insight
United States
2awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 2nd July 2018
Forum Posts: 90

Silence 3 (Twinning)

Sun  
The sun was  
Bucking  
Up at me  
Casting  
Its demons  
Out of
The sky  
And I  
Was  
Dowsed  
By silence.  

Drenched  
The ocean  
Waves  
Crashed  
Into me  
And I was  
Drenched  
In fear;  
Toppling  
Silence.
Written by Nari (Spellbound)
Go To Page  

poet
CasketSharpe
Dangerous Mind
United States
7awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 12th June 2013
Forum Posts: 89

The Sermon of Mr. Brimstone Pt. X (Forbidden Eternal)

  ďWe all feel the shit as itís licked away from our stanking draws
Transformed into our dark secrets thatís displayed on transparent walls,
ďTheft, molestation, murder or whatever is our living scorn
Destroying our reputation as our personal world burn,

ďSome things get us excited like a man meeting a new bitch
Until itís discovered that she has a thick dick,
ďSurprise motherfucker! Now our confused emotions is in an uproar
Either we gonna fuck that ass or head ashamed to the door,

ďBack then the United Sates knew slavery was the money game
But present day they try to deny it. What a goddamn shame,
ďWanting to act like the atrocity did not exist
Next they will try to convince us its nutritional value in human piss,

ďLike the fact that a porn star will always fuck off on the job
While good sex to an atheist will make them call on God,
ďIf they donít believe why give acknowledgement to him for?
Thatís why the Devilís laughing as they pimp their soul like a whore,

†ďSome use drugs to try to escape
But itís useless like a weak motherfucker trying to fight rape,
ďNot only being about sex, but desire and control
Fearing the cumming storm thatís signaled by the undesired swole,

ďWe should remember that our kill switch has already been set
Because from birth to death we will experience some form of wet,
ďLiving with unpredictable end time circumstances
Which only calculate to possible deadman chances,

ďI preach this Brimstone shit-so youíre welcome to be a critic
Because most of my sermons you motherfuckin live it,
ďUndecided to either love it or motherfuckin hate it
Regardless of your decision your mind has been Brimstone lubricated,

ďBecause our road to riches is paved by hatin-ass bitches †
Granting us unlimited deadly dark genie wishes,
ďNow digest that shit and put it in the collection plate
Will it be enough down payment for your eternal fate?Ē
Written by CasketSharpe
Go To Page  

poet
ArcanceOdist
Gunney Recon Jack
Strange Creature
United States
  profile   poems   message
Joined 18th Nov 2018
Forum Posts: 2

Intricate Mind-bending Insights into The Psyche of The Depressive Human Condition

Hypothetically, I wonder, what if I were to die today?
Not because I had given up and gave into the other side and took myself out of this world -
But because it was my time and my maker had called me home.
So yes, I asked the curious quandary;
What if I were to die today, upon this very hour of this exact minute?
And what if I never got to say my final words of last will and testament?
Who would ever know that I had shed my mortal coils?
Would there in be anybody at all in actuality that would in all sincerity mourn my early departure?
Or perhaps there'd be some who wind up somberly celebrating my passing?
Also, it's entirely possible that those whom I've known or knew would just continue going about their everyday lives caring nonetheless either one way or the other if I were no longer among the living -
It's also very likely that many won't have any inkling that I've even left this mortal plane of existence...

And I can almost say for certainty that in the moment of my passing there'd be three thoughts that would be crossing my mind;
The first a jovial thought of; Iím passing on with the hopes that the ones who knew me the best would mourn the loss of such an endearing staunchest friend or intricate strong-willed ex -
The second thought would be a disturbing thought about if the ones who loathed me might consider finding my final resting place and desecrating and disturbing it -
The last surreal realization that would run through my mind is on whether or not the ones who know me best would remember me for 15 minutes of fame or would they let my legacy live in infamy forevermore, or would they forget about me in the mere instance like the ones who detested me?
Another curious notion Iíd be wondering is, would the ones who knew me best be reading a humble eulogy at my funeral -
Or would they be like the ones who abhorred me and only say good riddance to such a deplorable being?

Also, I wonder if any of all who pass by my casket might actually stop and stare down at my lifeless, cold and stiff body lying there in that coffin and notice the rather uncanny expression upon my face -
Wonder whether or not that whatever my last thoughts were such an unnatural somber expression that it wound up being permanently etched into my face -
And maybe there be a handful of people that stop dead in their tracks because they suddenly feel a creepily chilling emptiness emanating from within my casket...

And, if I were to die today, I íd leave this world knowing that at last, all of this god awful unrelenting unyielding anguish that I had been plagued and overwhelmed with my entire life would finally subside -
So, if today was my last day, and these were my final moments before I shed my mortal coils Ė
Iíll know in my final breath that I had lived a full life Ė
That many were envious of and even more were skeptical of -
Yet, I'll also wind up taking my unknown knotty questions to my grave which are:
Was anybody ever aware that I felt so miserable on a daily basis, felt so estranged from everyone, had been consumed by the darkness, or that I felt more alone than most ever were?
And did anybody actually care whatsoever that I was constantly tortured by so much anguish, and did anybody know how much I so despised my existence?

However, I know, that today wouldnít be my last day on this wretched Earth cause thereís no way in hell Iíd get or be that lucky -
Because it seems as though I am cursed with immorality Ė
Or maybe itís that the fact that Iíve already died long ago and this life Iím forced to live out is my endless unforgiving purgatory Ė
But regrettably, I am unable to differentiate between the two likely possible subterfuge realitiesÖ

And as a result of this discombobulation, I feel as though I cannot breathe a single breath -
Also, the weight of my burdens bears heavily down on my chest, making me feel as though I am being asphyxiated -
And I constantly feel and know is sadness, loss, sorrow, misery, and pain -
So it seems that if I were to continue living on is the foreshadowing of my remaining days would more than likely be endlessly lousy with, dashed hopes, despair, forlornness, sadness, rejection, faithlessness, and singleness -
Ergo each and every god damn forsaken day my heart breaks a little more -†
My body continually aches to the point where it's almost enjoyably unbearable to me -
And my mind is constantly being eroded away by the demons whispering seeds of doubt and negativity into my conscious -
So much in fact that whenever I'm amongst fellow camaraderie, I think that everybody is just patronizing me -
Nd in the aftermath of such fellowship the foolish feelings of abandonment, or of being forgotten or left behind overwhelm me -
All because of the contrary ideas that were planted in my head, of not being important enough and that I'm nothing more than a convenient friend to them -
Then abruptly from out of nowhere all of my mistakes come rising up from out of nowhere to remind me of the disappointment I've been to society -
It is then that my insecurities chime in to remind me that I am insignificant and irrelevant to everyone including myself nobody wants such a broken thing like meÖ

This is why I go about my daily life like a clown masquerading around as though I am pleased -
But at the end of the day when I'm alone, my demons take off my mask and reveal who I am actually -
And they do not judge me, ridicule me, or try to change who it is that I am -
Instead, they accept me and embrace me in the welcoming cold darkness, the place where I am the most comfortable and feel welcomed...

These surly spiteful thoughts that plague me are why I posed the hypothetical inquiry;†
What if I were to die today?
Wondering whether or not would my death really matter at all?
But the truthful answer is a double-edged sword -
Because on one side of the blade it is apparently obvious that if I were to die today, all of my suffering, turmoil, anguish, and misery would subside and come to an end -
But on the other side of the blade, it is also kind of understood that if I were to continue living, thereís a possibility that I might accomplish, and I might succeed over these insufferable intolerable painful trials and tribulations that I am currently battlingÖ

So here lies the perplexing quandary;†
To die or not to die, to live or not to live?
True is it not that some part of us actually dies if we somehow arenít able life to our fullest potential?†
Or is not truer that if we live our entire lifeís only focusing on striving to reach our fullest potential that we eventually find ourselves being forced into an early grave?†
I mean, in all honesty, who in the hell actually knows the actual answers to one of lifeís biggest mind-bogglers?
Truth be told not very many folks know the answer to the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question -
Because the sad realism is that there are far too many people who are so terrified of dying that they wind up not truly living up to their fullest potentialÖ

However, that is not who I am or will be -
Because so far, Iíve lived each and every single day of my life†
as though it was my last -
Also, I did not waste a single minute of any hour ever foolishly worrying about the little things I knew I couldn't control -
I always did my best to embrace the good, the bad, the ugly and the unbearable memorable adversities that came with each new day -
And in doing so I have and had lived life knowing what true happiness, hopefulness, and love was to the fullest extent -
But also, I experienced unforeseen sadness, heartache, sorrow, struggle, and suffrage in my lifetime too Ė
But I welcome both aspects into my life so that I would know how to be stronger in my weakest hours -
That way, whenever it would be my time to die, I wouldnít be afraid of death, like so many others might be -
Also, I wouldnít dare question the life that I've lived, nor would I beg for more time from the reaper -
Unlike those who fear their demise and plead for more time while questioning their life choicesÖ

No, that will be me Ė
Instead, in my final moments Iíll be singing the Marine Corps hymn as my death song because Iíd be another leatherneck, Jarhead, Devildog whose more than ready to regroup in hell with other fallen comradeís and afterwards Iíll be more than willing to meet my maker, so I can take my post at the pearly gates or perhaps the gates of hell -
Just as so many Marines, have done before this Ole Salty Marine has yet to do Ė
But until that inevitable fateful day, Iíll continue to hold my own in the face of unknown adversity by always remaining vigilant and Iíll do this by staying frosty, keeping my head on a swivel, protecting my own six and being both†Semper Gumby nd Semper FidelisÖ
Written by ArcanceOdist (Gunney Recon Jack)
Go To Page  

poet
FreeLove87
Fire of Insight
United States
  profile   poems   message
Joined 24th Sep 2013
Forum Posts: 20

Haplessly Searching †

I havenít picked a brain in a minute,  
I havenít switched a lane in a minute
Been on cruise control till the finish †
Search for souls is never-ending  
†You have to run the race to win it †  
But my patience has a limit †
How long will this go before we end it  
Must have been too strong in the beginning †
Feels like no ones reading the messages that Iím sending †
Got me depleting all the energy I was lending  
Losing the thrill of the hunt  
Can no longer battle because my sword is blunt  
Tired of performing flips and stunts † †
So do I switch lanes or remain contained to the current domain †
The plan was plain, had so much to gain  
Iíll just keep it moving, proceed and sustain †
Written by FreeLove87
Go To Page  

poet
Bethy
Bbbethy
Twisted Dreamer
United States
3awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 28th Nov 2011
Forum Posts: 181

Silver Bullet in my Head

Stupid piece of shit
You fucking monster
What the fuck do you want?
Why canít you leave me
The hell alone
I guess itís my fault
Since I let you in
And you felt so good
But I canít take it anymore
You make my hair wet
From sweat
  † Saliva
 † † Tears
Iím rotting
 † †My brain
 † † † Mush
 † † † Shit
 † † † Putty
I just want my skin to stop crawling
Please monster please
Leave me be
STOP TAKING OVER
ST...

Hello dear
It's me
Your best and everlasting friend
The Monster
Címon your starving me
Let me have just a little
Your fever is spiking
Donít you want me?
Almost like a cock
Deep down your throat
You bitch
You fucking slut
Go
Go buy a score
Let me hit it
You know you want a taste
Just like me
I want some too
Can you feel it?
Donít you feel me...


Maybe just one
One hit
One more high
Let me soar
Seep through every
Nook and Cranny
In my body...

Yes...YES
Oh sweet love
Thatís it
I feel it
You do too, donít you boo?
Better than getting fucked
Because youíre getting
Skull Fucked Senseless


You Beast
Creature
Monster
Creeping up my throat
Your fingers inside
My nose
Covering my wind pipe
I canít breathe straight
I need food
Just one last meal
Maybe a cold bullet
Can put an end to you
Monster
This is the last time
Youíre finally coming to be ended
Get out of my head
Before I...

Kill me KILL ME
Stupid bitch
Put that fucking gun
In your mouth
Pull the trigger
You whore
You donít have the guts...


SHUT UP!!!
I squeeze
Everything is spinning
Black
...warm
...No...More....
....Monster...
Written by Bethy (Bbbethy)
Go To Page  

poet
Bethy
Bbbethy
Twisted Dreamer
United States
3awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 28th Nov 2011
Forum Posts: 181

Erase

Can you tell me who I am?
† †I tend to forget
†† † †These feelings swarm my soul
So I never remember
†† † †Once I was beautiful
Iím now a wreck
†† † †Stoned and high wreck
Pressure is too much and I can't help it
So please help me
†† Iím not who Iím supposed to be
When the Monster wants
†† I do what he pleas
Every memory aches
†† † † † † † Awakes
†† † †Iím so baked
†† † † † † †Erase
My coke cakes
††Awaits for my arrival
He senses my needs
†† But Iím only a tease
I try
††Re-apply
My mind
Caressed and covered
Beat to a pulp
Iím...High
Strung out  
†† † †On a thread
††Hung to dry
Heat seeps into my skin
†† I need to please him
†† On the rim
†† My light...
†† † †So dim...
I lost my control
†He rapes my soul
And a burden takes its toll
"Mommy please help me
†I canít find your soil"
My body canít plant the seed
†My soil provides no feed
†† †So I read
†† †And realize I canít bear
My flower canít grow
Because you reap what you sow
And this is my punishment
†† † † † You canít make a fire
†† † † † † † †Without a flint
†† †Iím bent
†This way and that
†† †That's why I spat
†† Monster Iím fat
On cash so I choke
Here I am...
†† Empty pockets filled with coke
I revoke
††Relapse
Back to who I am
Iím surrounded
Iím canned
I throw myself under the bus
††Just because
No one else can
There so afraid
†† † † †I take the blame
†† † †The Monsters game
Turns my lame into fame
I reconcile
††With no one
Monster Iím done
††You canít trick me
Iím not your rubbish
†† † †Don't punish  
What you create
†† † † † Hate
Me for who I am
Heroine needles in my hand
On the bed where I land
Covered in bands
†† † † †Stripped
†† † Of dignity
To bold to face
My reality I canít taste
You put me in a new place
†† † † † † † † † † †Erase
My memory from who I used to be
Iím still not me
†No one offers help
†† † † † † † I yelp
†† † † Iím not heard
Miles where you lured
Me into your trap
†† † † †Your crap
I canít ever get away
Your predator Iím prey
Cat and mouse game you have me play
†† † † †That I despise
But love  
†† † † †Every
†† † † † † † Little
†† † † † † † † † † Lie
Your right
†† † †Maybe I should
†† Drop under ground
Buried six feet down
†† † † † † † I frown
Look upon me
Iím a follower
I try
To keep on the track
But always find Iím going back
†† † † † † † † †I retract
Like a severed artery
†† † I bleed out
Become a victim
†of another crime
Another hollow skull
That takes role
But you always come first
†† † †A thirst
Never satisfied
Monster please take a rest
Iím tired of trying  
†† † † † † † To do my best
Iím flushed
Enough I've gushed.
Enough I've erased.
Written by Bethy (Bbbethy)
Go To Page  

poet
GingeryJosiff
Strange Creature
  profile   poems   message
Joined 30th Nov 2018
Forum Posts: 3

Exactly what happened

We grew up with it,
And the fact is,
That as a kid,
When it's easier to get a bag on tick
Than it is booze or cigs,
It's kinda hard to resist
The glam and the glitz
Of the grams and the bits
That'll divide your mind from your tits.
So...
One of me' mates' mums and dads split.
And as is the norm the dad left the mum
With the gaff and the kids, but...
She had a new fella and every weekend
was round his,
Now;
This provided us with just the right
Type of environment
To gern our backs out entirely
and safe to say we gave it our best attempt.
With the intent of pushing limits
to their ultimate extent.
Stress testing rules to see what broke and what would bend.
Acting the fool and throwing caution to the wind...

So a few years on and we was street cornerin',
Wearing a tracksuit and raincoat that let the water in,
Those same jokes you'd heard before begin
The boredum storm clouds formin in-
Amidst the smoke and mist of
all those oh so well rolled splifs that
you'd bin slaughterin',

I'm nauseous at the thought of it...

You'd passed the warning signal rizla
Of those silvers you brought with ya
Bought that morning and it's dawning
That you'd ought'a thought ta' get a quarter in
But now the mood's less ordinary,
And there are more important things,
So it's a different guy you ring,
Cos now you wanna snort somethin',
So while your mates are orderin'
The pints and an enormous gin
for this adjacent gorgeous bint
Of course you'd hit the porcelin,
Divorced from any more decision,
For this... is the realm we'd choose to live in,
Confined within the walls of our
Self-imposed prisons.
Written by GingeryJosiff
Go To Page  

poet
GingeryJosiff
Strange Creature
  profile   poems   message
Joined 30th Nov 2018
Forum Posts: 3

This is my first submission.  I don't have any knowledge of form of poems. Appreciate any opinions, advice, etc.

xx

poet
Nari
Spellbound
Fire of Insight
United States
2awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 2nd July 2018
Forum Posts: 90

Silence 5 (Twinning)

Original  
The  
Woodland  
Edges  
Tried to  
Populate  
In the wild;  
Only to be  
Turned  
Down-  
By  
Fruit bearing  
Silence.  

Remix  
The  
Woodland  
Edges  
Appeared to me  
In the wild;  
Fruitful  
And all  
She was  
Allowed  
To
Colonize  
Was  
My silence.  

{bitch}
Written by Nari (Spellbound)
Go To Page  

poet
Zaynab_kamoonpury
Twisted Dreamer
1awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 4th Dec 2017
Forum Posts: 19

Cluttered house

Messy Room by Shel Silverstein    
Whosever room this is should be ashamed!  
His underwear is hanging on the lamp.  
His raincoat is there in the overstuffed chair, †  
And the chair is becoming quite mucky and damp. †  
His workbook is wedged in the window, †  
His sweater's been thrown on the floor. †  
His scarf and one ski are beneath the TV, †  
And his pants have been carelessly hung on the door. †  
His books are all jammed in the closet, †  
His vest has been left in the hall. †  
A lizard named Ed is asleep in his bed, †  
And his smelly old sock has been stuck to the wall. †  
Whosever room this is should be ashamed! †  
Donald or Robert or Willie or-- †  
Huh? You say it's mine? Oh, dear, †  
I knew it looked familiar! †  
††  
†  
My version poem †
†  
Cluttered house †

The manager and homemaker here ought to be ashamed † †
Her scarves are dangling on the lamp †  
Bath towels are thrown over the corner chair †  
Because of which the wood's now soggily damp †  
So many vials are cluttering the ledge of the window † †
Books and toys are scattered on the floor †  
Old files and forgotten piles are hid beneath the TV †  
Gosh, the lost muslin has been found on the door †  
Her books are half falling from the book case †  
Sandals slipped from the shoe rack to the hall †  
A lazy daisy is still asleep in the big bed †  
Decade old festoons still half stuck to the wall † †  
Whosoever' home it is ought to feel ashamed † †
Seema or Beena or Meena or-- †  
Gah! You say it's mine? Oh my, oh dear †  
Gosh, no wonder it looked so familiar .
Written by Zaynab_kamoonpury
Go To Page  

poet
eswaller
Dangerous Mind
United States
21awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 22nd Dec 2015
Forum Posts: 494

All Is Not Fair In Love and War

You took a bullet for me and I took all the physical pain
For you. An eye for an eye or so they say. The whispers
That stay behind closed doors as they watch all the rain
Pouring down, soaking the earth. We used to be sisters
And brothers, always arm in arm, but they are having us
Fight against our comrades in this long bloodshed war.
What the hell are we all fighting for? Food? Less muss?
Freedom and love? Peace? Justice? Settling the score?
A place we call home? The spilled blood of our ancestors
Are running deep. We dig trenches to ease our burden.
The truth is we are all wanderers, seekers and the questors
For the bigger questions asked like why are we so uncertain?
Life is certainly not fair, especially when it comes to matters
Of the heart and head. When one war ends another one starts.
Our heads get screwed up and messy. Our hearts get tattered
And torn into thousands of pieces. This life leaves and departs.
Written by eswaller
Go To Page  

poet
DawnRaider
DR
Thought Provoker
United Kingdom
2awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 10th Oct 2018
Forum Posts: 23

Conflict

Morning arrives, strident and shrill
First the alarm sounds loud as a bell
Then she starts; Really? Take a chill pill!
Why not 'Good Morning, did you sleep well?'
Far too early for in-depth interrogation
Twenty questions about being late home
Need the UN Peace-keepers' delegation
Yes, a few beers, no, I didn't drive, drone ... drone..
Constant and incessant the verbal barrage is
Prodding and probing, seeking to catch me out
Until with a bang the front door closes. Bliss..
Did I sign up for this? Is this what it's all about?
When did togetherness and friendship disappear?
Are we so blinded by our separated scenes
That we cannot find time to shed a tear
Spend energy on building bridges between
Rather than garner this destructive force
Driving wedges in deep, prising us apart
When did this all begin, remind me please
Which moment in time, just how did it start?
Questions whirling around. I beg you to cease
Right now I've a mother of a hangover to quell.
Written by DawnRaider (DR)
Go To Page  

poet
Amanacer
Lost Thinker
United States
  profile   poems   message
Joined 22nd Apr 2018
Forum Posts: 7

Phallic Misconception

Trolling for men  
Or boys or just in between  
Too many to count  
In hotel bars and seedy scenes  

For one night stands, lay-downs more apt
With primers like yeyo blue vodka and ludes  
And smoke until I was sufficiently smashed  
So that the faces morphed into a single trifling dude  

Short fat thin straight curved to the left to the right up down †
Cut and uncut hirsute and slick  
Pink and every shade of brown  
Both the dicks and the dicks attached to the dicks †

Fifteen seconds later ever the zealot  
I would just say 'ay te wacho or maybe I''ll call †
In the hotel mirror as my I planned my exit  
The reflections of chests puffed out and standing tall  

Without exception, they all primped and preened  
Once cuckolded prowess redeemed  
One winter night Goddess spoke her secret to me  
Keep your pearls girl she seemed to scream

In retrospect, perhaps I was asleep  
Or sleepwalking day drinking  
Pill popping drug taking †
4 martini lunch drinking perhaps  

Left in the dusty Texas desert  
Trolling is only a memory †
The fact I wasnít murdered †
Many times, I escaped cleverly  

One more undisclosed fact  
I used to carry a piece  
And had they tried to stop me †
This poem might have ended differently
Written by Amanacer
Go To Page  

poet
PerfectSinner
Lost Thinker
United States
  profile   poems   message
Joined 14th June 2016
Forum Posts: 16

R.I.P.D

Death oh beautiful death why do you continue to escape me at every corner all I want is you yet you still refuse to me my owner. Death can't you see I'm way past my last breathe dnt u know I give in I refuse to fight I have nothing left
Why won't you just let me be at peace & rest truly just rest in ease. Death I know your not my friend nor my foe I pop pills I smoke & I drink just to let it all go. My light have dimmed I stand on the edge of of what's fucked up yet completely fine shit I'm so done I even snort a blurred line. Death fuck my life you're all that I need you're my true love/drug surpassed all the liquor crack dope & weed.
Written by PerfectSinner
Go To Page  

Go to page:
Go to: