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poet
rowantree
Rowan E.
Thought Provoker
United States
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Joined 5th Aug 2015
Forum Posts: 150

I'm Brimming

I hope your soul feels a squeeze from mine
any morning you wake and squint at the light.
When you wake - from the tip of your toes to your head
and begin the slow, lumbering rise from your bed,

know this: the reason it all goes unkissed
is that I am not there with my early-bird lips;
I am very far off with my strong set of hips,
and my fingers, which ache to retrace all your ribs.

If you leave without breakfast, or unsatisfied,
it is only the miles that stretch under the sky;
if your ears miss my timbre and singing and talk,
and it's tough to recall as you leave for your walk,

know that though strangers and their ignorant eyes
might miss you, mistake you for scenery; I
would walk the whole way with my head to your side,
drinking your sight like a peasant would wine.
Written by rowantree (Rowan E.)
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poet
Erotic_Goddess
Fire of Insight
United States
7awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 1st Mar 2016
Forum Posts: 80

Between Ghosts and Future

"Watch the context....
It reads wrong...
Go fuck somebody else, sorry I'm still a little raw..."


The result of my constant need for walls and running... to run away from what I want because I am fearful of the outcome is a practice I've held in the shards of my corroded heart...since....since...


Well...
I guess since I left him... since I lost myself submitting to a man who took me from myself and left nothing but blood on the linoliuem, bruises on my face, scars on my spirit in return.

I fell in love with walls... the way they granted the power to be built as tall as I so chose them to be... how brick by brick I could ward off anything that might cause me to ache that way again.

I don't remember the last time I was given a choice before now...

"Shut the fuck up bitch! You don't know what you're talking about!"
"I make the decisions, what I say fucking goes, you should know that by now!"


Echos haunt me even now... nights alone are both dear and haunted for me depending on which way my mind decides to run. Sleep a stranger that I visit from time to time wrapped in the arms of my keeper and how I miss it when it... him...when they're gone.

"Good morning beautiful."

What the hell does he see in me?

"You're a fucking useless slut!"

I almost believed that once before I got off my knees and tried to gather the pieces of myself again. The mind is a terrible thing to waste....but even worse is the fate of allowing an infection to breed in your own self image.

I still find myself some nights screaming for him to stop, still find myself rocking on the bathroom floor tears streaming my cheeks hating what I allowed him to destroy in me.

"You can't change the past, but you have a chance now to make a better life lil one."


I am still in pieces, shambles if you will, but there is this man that won't stand for anything but me at my best that deserves me whole.

Still fearful of what the future holds...no longer running.

"Baby please help me forget, hold me in your arms!"


I choose to try again... because life is to short to live tangled up in ghosts.


Written by Erotic_Goddess
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poet
BeginningPoet
Fire of Insight
United States
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Joined 18th Mar 2019
Forum Posts: 4

A Thousand Stars

A thousand stars
gathered for your eyes,
a thousand more
cast in your smile.
 
How can I offer you
anything more?
Why give you anything less.
 
The universe would be yours
if I owned it,
from the earth
to the farthest reaching dreams.
 
I would surely give you
everything in my possession,
desire, wants, needs, love,
the heavens above
if I could capture them.
Written by BeginningPoet
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poet
Sky_dancer
The Cosmic Dragon
Dangerous Mind
13awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 10th Dec 2018
Forum Posts: 636

Olfactory Desire

Sky_dancer (The Cosmic Dragon)
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poet
emilyrose1995
Twisted Dreamer
United States
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Joined 12th Mar 2019
Forum Posts: 1

Chasing Midnight

In the quiet of the night  
I awaken with a start  
There's a pounding on the door  
I feel the banging in my heart  
I step outside  
There is a small child in a red hood  
I try to speak  
She silently takes off for the woods  
I can barely keep up  
I only see flashes of red  
No matter how fast I run  
She stays a few steps ahead  
I am stumbling  
I am out of breath  
She just keeps running  
As if she knows this path  
I just keep on running  
My bare feet pound the earth  
I am running faster
Than what I know it is worth  
As I think to turn around  
I hear the child scream  
I stop dead in my tracks  
Is this but a dream?  
I pinch myself  
I pick up a handful of dirt  
If I don't keep moving  
I fear the child will get hurt  
Suddenly we stand across from each other  
Between us is a stream  
I once again ask myself  
Could this be a dream?  
I kneel down slowly  
I start to play a game  
I splash water towards her  
She giggles and does the same  
We go back and fourth  
With this game we play  
I try to get closer
I try to see her face  
At the snap of a twig  
She again begins her run  
I trudge through the water  
I notice the rising sun  
We come to a clearing  
I see the gravel of a street  
She stands in the middle  
Worn out, she falls to her feet  
She doesn't see furious headlights coming around  
I scream to tell her  
But it doesn't make a sound  
I collapse next to her  
Hoping she will live  
I cradle her in my arms  
Knowing it is all I can give  
The car just kept on driving  
Because they did not care  
When I looked down at my arms  
She was no longer there
Written by emilyrose1995
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poet
CharlotteMae
Twisted Dreamer
United States
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Joined 28th Mar 2018
Forum Posts: 3

The Morning Light

The morning light
crawls across my face,
caressing it like a gentle kiss.  
Thoughts of you overwhelm my mind  
leaving me in tangles.  
  
I find your message on my phone.  
A poem.  
As I read,  
I bask in the warmth  
of your prose,  
being bathed in its beauty.  
Though the words are not for me,  
the desire wells inside me  
to be the muse to your art,  
to shape your imagination  
in the form of my body.  
   
How I long to touch your face.  
For your fingers to softly graze  
my cheek as your gaze  
slowly suffocates me.  
To feel the pressure of your mouth  
against mine until
my every thought  
is reduced to ash
from the fire  
that engulfs me.
Written by CharlotteMae
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poet
DevilsChild
Dangerous Mind
United States
6awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 10th Dec 2014
Forum Posts: 105

Sorry I Have a Penis

you have sight for things I don’t see
the person I am is a perverted freak
well, yeah
but unless you are willing to claw out my eyes
I’ll always stare at big asses
can’t help God made me with a penis
 
men are born sexual predators
least that’s what you claim to your friends  
we used to hang out all the time
now you’re a hardcore feminist
part time lesbian  
telling everyone, me too!
 
you’re not fooling me
I remember you groping the dicks of married men
guess they should of just liked it
they should of just took it
because they’re born cheating bastards anyway
and you’re just being an empowered woman
 
oh girl, please
there’s a difference between assault and regret
just because you made stupid decisions
doesn’t make you a victim  
and just because a man you didn’t find attractive  
flirts with you
doesn’t make him a criminal  
it makes true victims look like liars
 
I have a dick
and I’m truly sorry for that
it keeps pointing at things I want  
and you have a hole
my guess is it’s being filled as I write this
from a man or woman  
or both
you just want to be the lustful cunt
and every man should wait their turn  
 
well lock me up with the other males
I’m a hopeless flirt
staring at sexy women  
I fantasize of dirty things way too often  
and if given the green light  
I would be all up in that
you know it’s true
if you had a penis
they would lock you up too
Written by DevilsChild
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poet
Ahavati
Tyrant of Words
United States
66awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 11th Apr 2015
Forum Posts: 2678

You must know

    
"It was at that age    
that poetry came in search of me.”   
 
You must know there are times
I will not choose you over the poem;  
I will not choose your email, text    
or pouting silence over the verse;  
 
I will not be swayed by a bulging zipper  
or swollen suitcase by the entrance.  
If you want to be first in someone’s life   
you must know it can never be mine.   
 
I'll never be the faithful wife  
skinning carrots at the sink;
a gimlet eye’d grandmother supervising,
her starched apron and recipe splayed
submissively across the counter -  
contents spooned carefully  
by measured taste; the roast, flayed   
awaiting its wake to commence -
garlic attendees of potatoes and carrots
following into the oven's heated pyre.    
 
I'll never be the faithful mistress  
donned in your favorite négligée
at the door holding a drowning olive  
after a choice cocktail party --
 
alarm at attention so we don’t fall asleep
alerting your wife to your late absence.  
 
I'll be in the tub with the poem instead;
gluttonous ink splashing imagery  
over its porcelain skin with each spit  
of candle and stroke of pen.   
 
You must know in bed I'll fantasize  
about the poem, how it carried me   
continent to continent, shielding  
my isolated survival from extinction
while hunted by laundered mindsets  
whose truth hung on clotheslines to dry  
before ironing their firm sects of belief;
 
spread themselves as meticulously
embroidered modesty sheets  
carefully monitoring the privacy  
of conjugal enjoyment.    
 
You must know the poem  
is 'One Hundred Years of Solitude',  
its plantation abandoned by death;  
it’s 'All the archived Names'  
without Ariadne’s Thread;
the Life that Pi actually dreamt   
'The Shipping News' reporting anthologies
modern American beats underground;  
it’s 'Water for Chocolate' torched  
by match heads; it's 'Midnight  
in the Garden of Good and Evil';
it's Romeo; it's Juliette.   
 
You must know that if betrayed  
by lies or entrapment I will escape    
elope, even commit suicide  
before captured alive;    
 
we’ll die together, deeply inhaling afterlife  
as Plath – taping your sleeping existence
away from us, towels caulking the frame;   
 
and you, you must know  
you'll wake lonelier than you’ve ever been.   
~   
       
       
Literary references:  Pablo Neruda, Gabriel García Márquez,        
José Saramago, Yann Martel, E. Annie Proulx, Laura Esquivel,        
John Berendt, William Shakepeare, Sylvia Plath.
Written by Ahavati
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poet
personanongrata
persona non grata
Thought Provoker
Greece
4awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 8th June 2015
Forum Posts: 223

self knowledge

I hate myself
I want him dead
"But you can't kill me" once he said,

"cause if you do
you'll be dead too
and noone is going to cry for you".

Get to know to yourself better
you're about to enter a shelter
Learn your fucking list of traits
change yourself your life awaits.

Traits you should embrace and hold
Traits you should erase as told
Traits you should change a bit
for you in society to fit.

Well, I,
with my conscious with sense
with this confession as a defense
admit how horrible I am
so stupid, irresponsible and dumb.

I have lost fourteen years
I've cried with fake and real tears
I've sold my soul I've given up
And still I sense an inner gap.

What should I do? Must I pray?
I am three hundrent miles away
Away from home away from sin
I don't think that running away means win
cause someday you may go back
so measure then your strength and luck..

How the hell did I get here? I can say..

there are certain rules a kid has to obey..

My indifferent folks, my low self esteem
the fact that I wanted to be a part of a fuckin' team
To face reality my mom drunk galons of white wine
She used to ask me "are you ok?"
I was always saying "I'm fine."

I wish I could say we lived happily ever after
but a 25% alc./vol bottle had been her only daughter.

I didn't care until I saw her whittled coffin
The second funeral in my life,

about the first.. I don't like talking
I'll tell you what, then people labeled me as a widow
blackdressed and pale looking out of my rehab wide window.

I tried to change but I was terrified by me silver
the sickness was just in my head,

but I was burned by a real fever.

I thought I'll be fine but I've been hiding behind of..my finger
If I hah had a revolver backthen,

I would had pulled the trigger.

I started writing words inspired by a guitar
as I was running on a highway,

three dudes, me and their car.

I am so sick of this life
I wish for a different way of living
never to think of fucking dust
or my sight like knife on the ceiling

I have a feeling
I have to find my final destination
It isn't death
It isn't cash
It isn't recognation.
Written by personanongrata (persona non grata)
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poet
Michael_Goodridge
M_Goodridge
Thought Provoker
Trinidad and Tobago
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Joined 18th Feb 2017
Forum Posts: 131

Testify Karma's a freaky bitch

Bitch let me testify to my crimes
murdering stifling bitches gasping  
this isn't sexy deep in fucking  
this isn't meant to be loving
what you did to me
I'm sitting in your ex's kitchen  
draped in all black as venom leaks through
seeping from my skin murder is my intention
you both in the bedroom discussing your business
I'm sitting in the kitchen with this bottle of Gin
bitch I love you but if you only moan or scream
somebody's gonna get it
honestly I'm there for your protection
lining up all the kitchen knives on the floor
you don't even know I'm outside
you ran out and meet me sitting there
cutting myself tears dripping from my eyes
he came onto you and I watched you give in
you fucked him but I loved you still
you begged me no to, the veins in my neck stand
blood red eyes, like a vessel burst inside
I plunged my fist into his face over and over again
blood painted the kitchen
as you continued to beg for his forgiveness
You have no idea how badly I wanna rip you to shreds
I resurrected all my inner legion's  
I wasn't gonna do it  
but you've been playing me for quite some time bitch
you to old for this, knowing that I am that I am
you try to hurt me like this, it was just a discussion huh?
I gave her a knife from the kitchen floor
as she looked at me like what the fuck for
I kissed her as she got down on her knees
she seemed to like the dark side of me
kill me or suck my dick bitch
slammed into the fridge
up against the wall as I get it in
penetrate deep with all this rage
she screamed and cum for me
squirts and screams as I went in balls deep
he laid there and watched me as he bleed
watching as he saw what rough looks like for real
big black stiff demon slamming into her innocence flower  
watch how my wife likes the pain as she cum again
tears fell from his face as his daughter just came in
curious as she just returned from work  
you fucked your ex  my wife  
it's about time I testify your daughter's payback, kinda
as you feel like death's waiting outside
I approach her as she willingly decide
watch me take her virginity dad
bend over and spread your legs like this
she willingly gave in without question as she wanted this dick
the sweet tender innocence
shit happens when you start to catch feelings  
but daam you can keep my ex
your daughter's been eyeing me  
and you treat her like garbage  
what a way for me to meet both your parents
yeah I liked milf's I thought you left him
I been trying to behave
but now I love your daughter  
as you both sit there feeling sick as I should have been
I love that Karma's a freaky bitch
I already treated he good now she's finally loving the sex
Look how Karma's a bitch.
Written by Michael_Goodridge (M_Goodridge)
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poet
FromTheAsh
Tyrant of Words
United States
23awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 20th Feb 2017
Forum Posts: 412

permanent marker

 
softly now
hear these words
like a whisper
barely heard
yet fully felt
against the vein in your neck
tasting your life beat
tongue teasing

breathe
inhale my sincerity
gaze into forest eyes
as you paint your colors
upon my pale canvas
I brace
heels & claws
welcoming you into my eternal spread
rhythmically bobbing
with the force of your expression
as you exercise your demons
anchored deep
within my holy water

and bear witness
to truth

you need to understand
it’s not that I get off
on the pain
I respond to what drives it
the love
and the passion
the need
with absolute desperation
to leave your mark
where it can be seen
tangible
visible evidence
that we may both later caress

~ after ~

eyes rolled back
to the moment it happened
as your lips lovingly graze
lingering
over my perfectly imprinted flesh
causing pulses to pick up their tempo
as we reminisce
on shudders & sighs
and stolen breath
as palms spread a rosy impression
and teeth etched your signature
my hungry spine arched
your essence buried
within my depths
bathed
in torrents of devotion
flooding the halls of our hallowed temple
drenching us
in the sacred language
of your beloved hieroglyphs
glowing within my being
spoken without speaking

no, love
it’s not about hurting
it’s about feeling
and what you do to me
to my heart
like a tattoo
unable to be removed
permanently inked
into the whole of me
the soul of me

again I say
no
it’s not about pain
it’s how your love stains
and I wear it proudly
so…
it’s okay, baby
go ahead & mark me

Written by FromTheAsh
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poet
RevolutionAL
Alistair Plint
Dangerous Mind
South Africa
22awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 24th July 2012
Forum Posts: 934

Welcome To Hell

RevolutionAL (Alistair Plint)
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Welcome To Hell

                                                               
Dressed as sinner      
hailed as murderer      
of freedom                                      
in liberty                                      
                                     
All black suit                                      
yellow teeth          
carrying black bags            
in deathly stares            
of un-slept eyes    
   
Just a party, really            
wasn't it?              
"only this once"              
"fun for tonight"            
Until hell broke                                      
                                     
His royal evil ass              
knocking at                                      
windows and doors                            
a l-i-t-t-l-e                                      
more insistent                                      
more regular                                      
more persistent                                      
than before                                      
was it not?      
     
Seemed a joke, at first. Not so?      
                                     
The good people left your life                
didn't they?                  
They'd slander him, wouldn't they?      
You'd stand up for him, wouldn't you?      
     
Speaking inventive words          
filling his evil                  
with some light;                  
some positive                  
you probably believed initially      
They never came back, did they?      
Of course you didn't notice at the time                          
who would?                                    
                               
There were                                      
bars                                      
parties                                      
visits                                      
the new people                                      
willing participants, weren't there?
 
The bank started hounding, didn't they
People were nagging, weren't they?      
                                         
It spirals, doesn't it?        
Do you think        
we'd be asking questions        
if you hadn't taken that first line?      
Hadn't trusted that                                  
suit                                      
teeth                                      
dead eyes                                      
and his packet?                                      
                                     
Calling judgement now        
aren't you?        
Suspecting us                
with our questions                
of making you steal money at night;      
while your mother cried                
herself to sleep                  
Your wife running                
from her family home                
(all four little mouths, in tow)      
not so?                                      
                                           
I know, you're wishing      
these questions weren't asked        
or we hadn't called      
the suit                    
"a dirty fuck"      
or that I had                  
never penned this
The clock
ticking the seconds
of your life away                                      
                                     
You wish I hadn't                                      
                                     
don't you?                                      
                                     
                                     
-x-                                    

poet
AnonymousBystander
Thought Provoker
United Kingdom
2awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 28th Sep 2018
Forum Posts: 141

English Lane

I sit in the old servants quarters of
an English stately home. Behind the wall,
a partly cobbled green lane which I love.

Going down the lane from this aging Hall
in a wooded glade is a metalled road.
Going right, past a white wash Lodge withal

a scattering of dwellings now bestowed
by this beautiful walk through bright sunbeam.
Toward a bridge under which a burn flowed

where trout swim stationary in the stream
and, sometimes in the woods, roe deer are seen.
Continuing on this road as a dream

especially at dusk, where before we've been.
Road and stream like rod and snake reach a ford,
where two foot trout shimmer, quiver, careen

across to spawn; a sight to be adored.
Where stream and road cross a ford, where we roam -
pleasant and relaxing with health restored.

Along the lane where the trees make a dome,
around the corner and starting to climb,
the single track lane will then take us home.

If I stood up and rotated around:
each way you look, this journey is background.
Written by AnonymousBystander
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poet
Northern1
Fire of Insight
Iceland
  profile   poems   message
Joined 15th Apr 2016
Forum Posts: 139

I

I am a sister I am a brother
I am a father I am a mother
I am a daughter I am a son
I am the many I am the one
 
I am a worker I am an employer
I am a creator I am a destroyer
I am righteous I am a sinner
I am a loser I am a winner
 
I am a hater I am a lover
I am obvious I am under cover
I am a hitter I am a receiver
I am a doubter I am a believer
 
I am truthful I am a liar
I am frigid I am fire
I am saved I am savior
I am thought I am behavior
 
I am in orbit I am low
I am a victim I am a foe
I am a peering crowd in a face
I am a fractious human race
Written by Northern1
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poet
Takue
Poetically_insane
Lost Thinker
Zimbabwe
  profile   poems   message
Joined 13th Jan 2018
Forum Posts: 2

Reflection


 
Appealing as a rose  
but am a Trojan horse
Deceptive by nature  
Please beware of rapture....
 
As the sun wakes  
it strikes unapologetically on
my glassy face  
"Light always wins" it says  
And I echo its rays  
in every direction....
 
You stare obsessively at your reflected face
that I project;
Your eyes that twinkle as stars  
Your smile that's straight from Mars  
And your skin that's smooth as silk  
 
But frankly
Perfections that i project  
Create intrenal imperfections
 
Your ego slowly consumes your core
like a meadow set ablaze
Burning all life it inhabits....
 
But what do I know....  
Am just a mirror
 
Written by Takue (Poetically_insane)
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