Poetry competition CLOSED 26th June 2019 1:45pm
View Profile Poems by Layla
RUNNER-UP: MysticalRose

Go to page:

Poem of the Month - July 2019

poet Anonymous

I can't think ..


like lightening in the sky  
I see only in flashes  
before the darkness and the
thunder closes in ..  
Written by dartford (Paul S...)
Go To Page  

Tyrant of Words
United States
29awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 21st Aug 2013
Forum Posts: 475


Reversible Stitch—There is some kind of beautiful in traditions and patterns mimicking time and space; the placidity of tranquility, stepping forward blindly. Relinquishing fears and ties governed solely by senses.
In the shadow of the fig tree I learned to whisper softly and the art of pouring tea; knees bent slightly barely revealing the blossoming curves, blushing tint unraveling the soft skein.
A drop of nectar from ripened figs drips on my braided midnight hair, missing a loop—
Back Stitch—I hear my father call my name stamping into the thick dishrag night sky, twisting the air of moisture. Children must be seen and not heard he tells me but I don’t dare to whisper smoothing the ruffled skirt, gaze on the floor—
Diamond Stitch— Ceramic tiles of black and white cool my bare feet, head in a cloud of winter storm, hair clinging at the nape of my neck like Ivy.
Ruby was a safe color but how I wished I could wear yellow; the color of sun-flowers and daisy he loves me, he loves me not, field of wheat on endless hazy summers, cold lemon-aid soothing scorching vowl-less words stuck in throat, the slight hue just before sunrise mellowing dark into light, photographs floating on a sea of memory—
Loop Stitch—He tells me it’s a sign of weakness and no child of his is a weakling. I reject all things yellow scrubbing off along with dead skin, the loofah shreds into pieces leaving my limbs raw red sub-merging my whole body under water:
Cross Stitch—Angles twist contorting the surface, colors melt into others while time stands still- in—
Buttonhole stitch—seams sewn of hollowed ribs sawn with seven failed blessings, upended from roots but fruit never falls far from the tree finding momentary comfort beneath the leaves spreading like—
Fishbone Stitch—he tells me he loves me but best liars never truly lie re-living version of truths in parallel worlds.
I bite my lips hard to drown his voice tasting of rusty nails, pushing my tongue through the eye without eyelid splitting in half: cold, compliant, absorbing the pain touching each knot rising on the surface.
Silent witnesses, coil on coil; an elusive narrative reducing touch to tone—
*knit one, purl one*
repeat from*
to end.
Written by Layla
Go To Page  

poet Anonymous

this NOW’s- a karmic battlefield, versed sacred with Bhagavat Gita~

??from a hazy prelude to an essential uprising^^
fuming fulminations of tonight’s sketchy dream...
thickens as detailing documented plotted broth  
...soothsaying scriptures of a versified narrative  
with an addendum of ethical arthashastra
[opens up as textured overtures of…>>
dark conundrums  
in a wormy exploding filth of pretty bundled  
nightmares ...let loose & leaking all over the  
cracking pores  
as odoriferously emetic vomiting blueblacks  
that only triggers some more...& all the more  
gizzardous guts in an ease of pulled out  
run outs  
& as diabolically diarrheal phaseless plugged outs  
-each chunkless chunk in unproportionally massive  
refracted paths & diffracted wavering… well away from  
their particulated truths.. cast in reflective deflections  
[( illustratively illusive bodily contents )]
passengers of nowhere destiny in a windy vehicular carriage  
with fatally intimate placements of feigned diehard adorations  
struck open wide...as they say you can never hide who you are…
by none than their deviantly inherent suicidally lethal mutant  
our dispersing souls amiss in crossed dimensionless dimensions  
within that limited singular break of a fast ticking chaotic interval  
---whence bloated airs fill your sauntering devilish boundaries  
in the un-waking...unto deliberately forgotten ignorance-
of Love of Hope

---you are in the veils of masked anonymities roaming free  
in the nasty stripping dungeoned streets shone with red lights  
towards generously stingy leftovers of unspelt unethical fuckeries  
in gluttonous indulgence of your seeming unrecognizably dressed  
with a particular sartorial fragrance of deceit & targeted trapping  
well amidst the drumming aloud elegiac guillotines in cosmically  
cursing banalities your wizardry of plagiaristic thesaurus deserves

\\ a striking clinically cleansing climax of Kali’s Asuravadam//
temples’ saamakkodangi...the sacred midnight fore-tellers  
in the soothsaying predict your Asura’s doomsday in the calling  
Kali’s reigning hands…her heavy head despite the wearing crown  
is this Kaliyug’s Avatar in the Karmic Kurukshetra of your burial  
floating as a hope-laden refugee, a whirring achene of windward  
blows…all I stumble & land are the camouflaging terrains of wolves  
and wolverine, bled & shred from the bitten brokenness & emptied  
out plundering losses walking as skeletal remains of vacuumed flesh  
standing against sabotaging corporations’ sludgy politicking sewages  
in name of of visionary empathetic bosses & intimately sucking frenemies  
divinely astounding is the tenderly accompaniments of twin cherubic  
innocence of children in all their curiously jaunty brimming that exudes  
of lil seeded guardians of hope & unleashing truth in all any circumstance
with righteous stance..
of a Kali’s Avatar unstoppably & unmercifully busting the ten-headed Raavana
& his Asuras’ clones of shameless masked evils cracking out in self-implosion

Written by summultima
Go To Page  

Tyrant of Words
United States
29awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 21st Aug 2013
Forum Posts: 475

Lust Blows

Like fiends trapped in the same shot glass, she became his whiskey nights, and he like her tequila sunrise.
Just to kiss sweet euphoria's lips, both lived by the adrenaline promises offered at each crest of the cosmo's light. 
They reached out and touched at the furthest span, inking dopamine wishes like braille upon flesh, soul, and mind.
Sipping on hundred proof dreams, they lit a match to their napalm fate, blowing up the inhebriating skies.
Written by PandoraUnleashed
Go To Page  

Thought Provoker
United States
9awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 1st Nov 2017
Forum Posts: 160

Something Else⚡️

Ever since officially still a child
I began writing poetry
Tentatively. Start, stop, start, stop.
Start again, till it became something else
And even while I was still that same child
I’d often fall and scrape a knee
When I would walk or roller skate  
A scabby scab becoming something else
I now am grown no longer just a child
Not falling as much as I did
As awkward tho’ in other ways
Upon my head I trip or something else
I wanted to be graceful as a child
Pretending up on tippy-toes
Attempting to stay up on point
A bloodstain on a floor is something else
And then to be in love I was with child
The only time I wouldn’t fall
But then when it became the spring
It took that love to call it something else
Reverting back to meet my inner child
In place there was a steady light
A southern star but from the north
I’d be his other dream of something else
Written by Jade-Pandora (jade tiger)
Go To Page  

Tyrant of Words
United States
94awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 25th Jan 2011
Forum Posts: 2007



like walking through a path overhung
with autumn trees

discarding a match on the dry ground

like perhaps a pumpkin
with your face carved in


like a truck stop coming up close

the walls of a chip shop chinese

a broken traffic light causing chaos

the man in hi vis perched on the city aerials
like some overgrown escaped pet parrot



if we're to take a look perhaps
at the heat map of your skull

orgasms: the kind that give you cramp in your foot

the back of your eyelid on a hot summer day

the inside of your eyelid

the bus that goes to city hospital

train ticket receipts, left on the floor
the mantra of not valid for travel
trodden into the platform

splatter of vomit

charity shop leather

cigarette papers from the netherlands

the incorrect sigil to open my phone


and jacobs cream crackers
wedged with red Leicester

blood & pus bursting from a cyst
mingling in a steel tray

and lichen
Written by anna_grin (grin)
Go To Page  

poet Anonymous

Tá an-dáimh againn le chéile

Subtle, as the flutter-by touches between lovers;  
Subtle, as the gap between gasping breaths;  
As subtle as the breeze in the still summer nights  

.. That's how I noticed you    
And once I saw you    
Lifetimes came crashing down on top of me..    
There's no wall in this world that can hide you    
No form that can keep you in,    
That is why you're aching    
Deeply in your soul    
Your purpose is so pure I can barely move    
Don't you see it yet?    
Don’t you know?
Each awakening I witness is just as intense    
Deeply loved    
Shocking the core to Life    
Yes, I’m the Welcome Committee    
If there ever was one  
Tales have been told, of who we are    
Songs have been sung, about our existence    
Oh, poetry have been written
trying to lure us out.    
It’s been Lived for,  
but also Died for;    
That's why we're here    
creating the Dawn of a new Day.    
Subtly, so gently,  
awakening one Soul at a time    
Weaving the remedy against Nothingness.    
Like legends of Old,    
As envisioned by the many,    
but Assigned to the few.    
Annointed Vessels,    
not at all any more important than the next person,  
but we're keeping the oil safe.

Tá an-dáimh againn le chéile
[We're kindred spirits]  

Remember now?  
Written by SkyeCebh
Go To Page  

Dangerous Mind
28awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 3rd Feb 2012
Forum Posts: 982


are you busy looking for reasons to loathe life and the world?    
are you busy looking for reasons to love life and the world?    
какая свобода хранится внутри?    
turn the heart inside-out and see    
the pulp of life shakes loose    
that science could not surpass    
the heat of this    
nor the velocity    
or no more outweigh    
the anchor of its persecuting.    
i ask you,    
what happens in life    
      more than nothing?    
above all, nothing,    
rapidly nothing and slowly nothing    
and yet still    
life, man, its a heavy case, ready to burst    
and all of the days    
which you wrench into place    
and all that you come to create    
that create you too in their way.    
so i question you from the top    
so i question you from the sides and from the bottom:    
            did you come all this way    
                  to not speak and have a say?    
did you come all this way    
            to merely exist and be perishable?    
life, man, its a heavy case, we know this much,    
how ordinary it is and miserable,    
      really it is preposterous, it is almost unbearable,    
but bear it you will    
and push    
and pull it hand-over-hand    
with quiet calm    
or with a rebel yell    
you will hold its every perspective    
as your own    
                              the tiny and conventional,    
the small and sudden bursts of light,    
because this is life    
                  its blessings and its mistakes,    
                              its kindnesses and cruelities,    
                  its mendacity and pabulum of violences    
but you will bear these,    
                        Sisyphus of time,    
because this is life    
                  you will bear it    
because this is life    
you will bear it until the end    
and do what you can.    
Written by Vandel_Viaclovsky (Van)
Go To Page  

Dangerous Mind
28awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 3rd Feb 2012
Forum Posts: 982

Tyrant of Words
United States
26awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 20th Feb 2017
Forum Posts: 441

Assailing the Sun

the corner table her refuge
in the Prince St. coffee shop
rain washing away the afternoon grime
she sipped an Americano
her lips contrasted red
with a light film of frothy cream

her eyes surveyed the ambiance
she collected the traits and attributes
of each individual patron
calculating levels of desire
potential lust portals
imagining erotic actions
does his mouth taste like chocolate
do her breasts knead like muffins

the back left corner of the shop
contained a small library type room
bookshelves lining walls on three sides
a sofa and a chaise lounge
supporting the fourth wall

the entryway flanked by a dark green
velvet brocade portière
allowing some privacy
she gathered her things
entered the room
choosing the chaise lounge

she pulled a book from
her brown leather messenger bag
leaned back, inhaled deeply
her body relaxing within the
confines of the small room
a slim black pen at the ready

a tall gentleman peeked into
the room, scanning the perimeter
his eyes fell directly into hers
two handsome pools of dominance

he walked in on an air of arrogance
this stirred her neatly packaged
not to be unwrapped being
his eyes still glancing her way
her eyes capturing every unsaid demand

her pen quickly flowed across the page
her book of life stories incomplete
the story, a combination of love and lust
remaining elusive and unattainable

he wore a tailored suit and a fedora
the lingering air smelled of cigars
she found this comforting and smiled
he smirked in her direction
his eyes acknowledging her comfort

what are you writing, he asked in a direct
manner, his eyes intently staring at her page
his voice startled her, she felt herself awaken
her pen dragged off the page, a jagged line
as nothing is straight and to the point

she contemplated his question
i am writing about you she said
in a quiet, yet calculated voice
i am writing about how close
we can get to the sun
before we crash and burn
in each others arms
a molten testimony of fiery love and lust

she watched him inhale deeply as though
every breath he had taken in that day
had been stolen, his need for oxygen great
she smiled, his reaction her desired response

he walked over to where she sat
he leaned down and took her chin
directing her eyes to his, a viable connection
we are the sun, he said in a confident tone
he quickly captured her lips in a kiss
their tongues danced, each lap and lick
a gratifying and sensual meal

he quickly sat beside her on the chaise lounge grabbed her by the hand and waist
pulling her to his lap, his hand cupping her ass
she wrapped her arms around his neck
her lips trailing up his neck to his ear
whispering all of her fears
secrets and erotic dreams

her pen and book had fallen to the floor
a page slipped out, the first page to their story
one that had started at an earlier time
when all was managed chaos
two beings perfecting the act of living
an ungratified life based on moral values

the page lit up, their union the tinder
a tiny flame burned consuming the page
the scorched edges rounding out
like the circumference of the sun

the shop door opened allowing a breeze
to navigate through the shop
it swirled and blew through the small room
the remaining ash disappeared
the fallen book opened to a fresh page
the pen nearby, ready with fresh ink

the question not if it will be written but how...
Written by hrshykss
Go To Page  

jade tiger
Tyrant of Words
United States
165awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 9th Nov 2015
Forum Posts: 4719

If Wisdom’s Righteous Wrath Contained The Words – Sonnet Fifty

If Wisdom’s righteous wrath contained the words,
The thunder bolts and lightning strikes of Will,
If Courage reigned instead the Politics
Of sheepish herds in hate-filled words held still,

Would we have found ourselves upon this ledge?
Would we, who once held dear our freedom’s right,
Stand impotent in face of conman’s pledge,
Of “Great Again,” each act our greatness blights.

How long will lies disguised and blamed as true,
Or truth disguised as lies, as fake believed,
Confuse the facts, our single greatness knew
When We the People equal rights received.

May Justice in her equal blindness weigh,
A Prison One for Presidential stay.
Written by Hepcat61 (geoff cat)
Go To Page  

Tyrant of Words
United States
94awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 25th Jan 2011
Forum Posts: 2007

Tyrant of Words
United States
94awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 25th Jan 2011
Forum Posts: 2007

I'm over my recommendation limit

Dangerous Mind
United States
5awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 3rd Apr 2019
Forum Posts: 44


Am I not like a rose a gentle flower something to hold and never to forget for are not my tears my tears of my darkness my tears of my depth for is it not my time to find peace of mind in a world, so cold and full of untruth for as night silently falls upon the world am I not entitle to the same things like you for am I not like a a child of the most highest spiritual soul. As I am a man of skin flesh and blood for I am not a man who deserves, to be loved as a child of the most highest spiritual soul for am I not entitle to the same things as you in heart and mind and soul of my souls.
Written by Stoney223
Go To Page  

Tyrant of Words
United States
29awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 21st Aug 2013
Forum Posts: 475

Related submission no longer exists.

Go to page:
Go to: