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Nathaniel Peter
Fire of Insight
United States
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Joined 18th Sep 2017
Forum Posts: 506

Static Aesthetic

Writing myself in a text reflection
Based in my relative self perception
Calibrating lines into alignment
From honest lies to the truth of who I'm called to be
Divided against myself, cloven verses of the life and death of my identity

Something like a man yet with the hope of being something more
Is it so much a matter of what I'm writing about or who I'm writing for?

Vainglory spouts from the same fountain of an eternal legacy
Of light and of shadows, the dawning hope of so much more than me
One moment my mere relatable best guess at reality
The next, the truth, that despite every bondage, I am free

Light affliction boasts the heaviness of a vapor
I put my heart back into perspective
To know myself in words and yet become more than just who I am on paper
Two tongues in cheek devouring the crow consumed by the utterance of fire
I am a messenger of truth and at the same time an honest liar

Every word taking shape after the influence of pain and a resilient spirit
Speaking of what I feel and what is faith
Emotion is my illusion

Learning to discern the voice of God the more I hear it
Ripples of eternity in every wave
I sketch to redraft before I draw conclusion

All things prewrit, prolific prose of the poetic prophetic
Diamond lines amidst the coal
Fine tune to dismiss the static aesthetic
Every word in process of mining out the soul...
Written by cloventongue89 (Nathaniel Peter)
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poet Anonymous

Fire of Insight
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Joined 12th July 2017
Forum Posts: 20

eclipse of love

The moon has come the sun has gone
A total eclipse hit our dawn.
Some search the sky some search the screen
Some search the darkens some the gleam.
I searched the media through all the lights
looking for someone to brighten my nights.
I found your smile shines like the sun
Eclipsing the moon with even more fun.
Our bright blonde star sends out its rays
Reaching us from deeper space.
But when I first looked up to you
The eclipse came and my mind blew!
Written by joeborg
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Thought Provoker
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Joined 4th Dec 2017
Forum Posts: 48

The Royals vs the poet's realm

Of splendid thrones of gold  
or treasures manifold †  
† †
Of jewelled caskets †  
or lavish banquets †  
† †
Of Emirs and rajahs †  
Of Sultan and Shahs †  
† †
Of kings and queens †  
Of rulers and emperors †  
† †
Of sparkling crowns †  
or flowing gowns †  
† †
Of their subservient stewards and obedient pages †  
Of their stalwart squires and servile knaves †  
† †
Of poor humble, docile minions †  
who tended to regal pavilions †  
And obeisantly carried royal palanquins †  
Oh and some were real life harlequins † †
† †
Of castles and palaces †  
of abounding gold and silver †  
in ostentatious regal splendour †  
† †
The sidelined fanning maids in waiting †  
Yet to me only one thing worth noticing †  
The minstrels who came to sing †  
from afar for the queen and king †  
† †
For I'd rather be a poetess for kings †  
so to my tunes swayed a kingdom †  
than I be the king of mere subjects †  
and be filled with regal boredom! †  
† †
So I could join ranks of † †
troubadours †  
and sing for the king † †
some folklores. †  

A passion for poesy  
For magic of literacy [/b]
Written by Zaynab_kamoonpury
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Lost Thinker
United Kingdom
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Joined 13th Feb 2016
Forum Posts: 21


Halloween has gone
And soon there'll be snow
Christmas is coming
Only a few weeks to go

The nights get darker
There's a chill in the air
The people all get busy
There's so much to prepare

Laura starts looking
For all the nice gifts
She knows that to afford them
She'll have to work the night shifts

The days go by
Soon Santa will be here
The Smith's start to worry
They're still paying off last year

Single mam Sally
Hates seeing her boys upset
She buys all the newest toys
And adds to her credit card debt

The decorations go up
Everyone gets the holiday feels
John knocks down an old woman
To get to the best Black Friday deals

Families enjoy the markets
They sing 'tis the season'
Round the corner, they don't care
There's a homeless man freezing

Old Jasper's family's all gone
They don't pick up the phone to call
He'll be lonely this Christmas
The tears start to fall

Karen lays in hospital
Her situation hopeless
Her only present this year
Is a terminal diagnosis

Tom's wife just left him
She took his kids, his house, his pride
He grabs a rope from the cupboard
This will be his last Yuletide

The festive time is full of
Fun, food and drink
But for others it's a struggle
So just stop....
And think

Spread a little joy to someone
Be it a friend, a stranger, your mother
The most important gift this Christmas
Is being kind to one another
Written by Adzy
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Lost Thinker
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Joined 28th Nov 2019
Forum Posts: 9

Where Memories Meet

White snow blankets where he lays
frosted breath whispers love's malaise
frozen tears drop crystal tapestry
covers my dearest with my agony
Within the frigid snowy day
on knees I weep while children play
one tiny voice speaks, ''are you ok?''
my heart, jolted, gave way
A shrine placed as a crown
where he lay in the ground
Christmas green and red  upon his head
where he rests among the dead
Broken heart, bereft, keening low
rocking to and fro, no comfort in the snow
let the winter birds sing solace from bare trees
may bitter winds console his spirit til at ease
Dreams of spring will soothe, give respite
visions of lilacs and loons to hold tight
of sparkling lakes and Crescent Beach
where our memories so often meet
Sheets white as today's snow  
blowing under blue sky and sun's glow
your face, those eyes ever watching
feeling your love without touching
All the beauty of you and I
will carry me to you when I die
all this I give to you, my only love
my promise, my heart, my darling one.
Written by Andiew
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Lost Thinker
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Joined 1st Apr 2017
Forum Posts: 18

Movement Is Needed

What is it before me that I dare see?
Why must it be objectified before me as I watch?
Surely there are others whose view must match mine?
If not, then they shall not die
Nothing wrong with a good or bad point of view.
Opinions they all are at the end, even mine.
Truthful, many call me. Yet I despise the word so.
Labels placed upon me as if they dare to see I.
Opinions of oneself is the hardest to verify, for one might only see the bad inside.
Agreeing to see good for those few or many or none but I, might prove to be a task that none can pass by.
What I write is not to criticize, I truly do not mind the way other people choose to watch or write.
We all should know by now that the choice to read was never yours or mine.
To read a statement that is not a fact but opinion is a hefty toll, for who knows the writer whose bloody ink it bestowed.
Why choose to read, it is such a bore, turning your head into a word not yet known.
A word not yet known because no one has read a statement so bold.
A stated opinion agreed by all, oh my, how that amuses me so.
Not all will agree to live or to die -
To be under whatever god or goddess -
A land let it even be upon sea -
Or even a way of sight to see.
Because why not watch the T.V?
Battling others opinions over mine is so barbaric that it even gives me a fright, of how pleasant it is to go quiet within a sentence I hold onto tight.
Does a word that come out of my mouth matter one or not?
Does it matter if I keep to myself or to say it at all?
Will it benefit me in any way? or do the opposite?
Will it hurt others or heal?
To blindly speak of emotion to others is not that great.
So many things to consider of and think.
So why not keep it simple?
How else are emotions shown?
A face to show emotion today is easier to find than tomorrow.
If what I say holds on then what I say will be held on.
Actions they perform to others is what I watch for.
If pain, love, understanding, or even misunderstanding was to sprout from my own wordly doing.
Then if I said none, it would not be moving?
If no one or thing moves then nothing will function.
If one action wasnít inspired yet, then we should be inspiring!
Chaos might be made, thatís a possible yes.
Prosperity a maybe.
Clarity is a choice
Yet movement is needed.
Be it my words or others, action will take fold.
How do you suppose those pirates got their gold?
I write and watch, simple as that, not much stops me, unless itís already on the news.
To write many to inspire just maybe a few, is better than someone who writes none and hides it all in their view.
I watch because I to, need movement to do whatever it is that I choose to do.
Written by Tink_Romero
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Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 11th July 2012
Forum Posts: 1113

In Search Of...

Iíve been in a constant search of enlightenment,
Transforming my environment, changing my ways,
Iím learning to forgive myself and moving on,
So the words on the page may appear with some grace.
But the sole guilt which was once jammed down to the hilt,
Left an enormous void I now try to console,
My fired verses fight versus furious curses,
Where the once profound wounds hounded my troubled soul.
Iím leaving the remorse and the shame behind me,
No more blame games or claims of destruction and wrath,
Instead I look upward and forwards with serenity,
So that in writing I will find my own true path.
I spill this ink and think it will fulfill my will,
Giving me some harmony with the universe,
Across cultures and creeds I now come to believe,
Iíll find peace,
Or at least,
Compose a well-lit verse.
Written by wallyroo92
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Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 3rd Feb 2014
Forum Posts: 1873


Dangerous Mind
United States
77awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 3rd Feb 2014
Forum Posts: 1873

Why I Write

I write to please  
A selfish need  
I write to relieve  
Anger, loneliness, illness  
Writing grants me release  

With ink I choose to bleed
The pain inside of me
Writing is a catharsis, indeed
Written by snugglebuck
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Strange Creature
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Joined 6th Nov 2019
Forum Posts: 2

Bleed Bleed fragile heart...

Ache and pains runs deep in me, blurry eyes can't see the road ahead,

Running nose desolve the ice my heart behold. Heavy breath , trembling feet , toxic belly all at ones as I gaze upon heaven with no mercy.

Freezing tears like race track, heavy heart no remedy could heal ; lightening strike no hiding place , it struck victim or villain ; doesn't matter the harm is done.

Moving forward, cross road appears; which way leads home, can't trust my heart.  Again it struck this time more venom , lightening and rain I can't escape;

Run or walk only time can tell, how long it last; it's not my call. The best team doesn't always win. There is no sacred ground for the defeated, time is sacred for both winner and loser.

Strange Creature
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Joined 3rd May 2018
Forum Posts: 2

I feel as if I am falling

It feels like I am falling
I recognize my body gently touching the sheets, I endure the cold breeze lurking through a crack in the wall.
The edges of my view keeps filling with black...nothingness
Am I disappearing? becoming nothing, not worth remembering? †
Describing feelings is like tearing down half-finished puzzles. †
Holding on to a sharp knife pierced through my hand on the edge of tomorrow.    
My mind is filling the blanks, there is no breathing room through the unbearable aching of a young boy, now becoming a man. †  
Am I finally accepted in society as a man? †
Crowded hallways screeching, jealous...They are jealous, right? †  
I know nothing... †
My mind drifts further away, disturbed by the physical and mental pain. †
It feels like I am falling †
Written by R_A_L_HP
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Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 9th May 2019
Forum Posts: 734

Brain Laxative

Writers block

Days, weeks or months
Without a word

A conversation
A call from an old friend
A new romance
Or a sunset

The free flow of words
From the collective unconscious

The needed release
Mental diarrhea
Written by Kinkpoet
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Lost Thinker
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Joined 30th Nov 2019
Forum Posts: 32

Forced Funeral

Go away! Go away!
Disappear! Die!

On the cracked soil in the wasteland,
a savage throng is burying a living stranger,
as if their madness this would cure.

Body beaten, covered in wounds,
with the tongue sliced off,
with broken arms and broken legs,
lies the stranger
and prays all of this
sooner to end.

As though not enough,
the throng is wrapping the stranger into bandage,
from the toes to the head.

Two people from the throng,
staring bloodshed eyes in the victim,
holding tight,
gripping by the wounds,
thrusting fingers into them
and other two are wrapping
the wretched one in bandage.

The strangerís twisting,
But the bandageís tightíning up and up, and up,
itís now covering his mouth,
after a moment and his eyes.

Now living mummy, living corpse,
the throngís throwing him in coffin,
louring in the pit, strewing
dried dirt from above.

The throng is in ecstasy,
with savage smiles on the twisted faces.
Could theyíve been afraid,
or the dried land wished to be watered with blood?

Guardian of Shadows
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Joined 1st Apr 2011
Forum Posts: 13456

you play
and I'll listen intently

feel the notes
rise up through me
like hot smoke
in a glass chimney

play you
and I'll play me on a good day

baked green
and a lot to say about nothing much
[sure to tease a smile
and such]

you play
and I'll listen intently

play me,
and I'll be the melody
which bends
then breaks your sanity

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