Poetry competition CLOSED 26th March 2021 1:48pm
Go to page:

Insecurities

poet Anonymous

Poetry Contest

Write on specific physical or mental insecurities. For once, adorn your insecurities. Decorate them. Praise them, worship them with your words, gift them your poetry. All things are possible with poetry. It's a world on its own.
No limitation on style, prose, rhyme, haiku, anything goes. Thank you!

poet Anonymous

Don't Let Her Go

You may see the fire in her eyes , burning at you as you come home late from another night of drinking . She knows something isnít right because you are killing your self slowly by filling your body with alcohol and narcotics. Never forget tho she is the one who will pull you out of the fire , Hold her close and donít let her go , donít be like me where i gave up on the one person I ever loved because i found myself caged and alone with a life prison sentence in my own mind . Hold her close and donít let her go , she has dealt with your bull shit for years , your self centered life style but she is the only one who truly cares about you so Hold her close and donít let her go . She may nag at you for hours , she may do things without a thought but i guarantee you that you are always the distraction , donít be her destruction Ö Hold her close and donít let her go . When things are too much for her she will move onto someone else who will appreciate her her and her feelings for them , she will have no problem in finding another man to take your place but you will struggle with the loneliness you are left with so Hold her close and donít let her go. You might find yourself biting your bottom lip , you might find yourself going to baby showers , birthday , weddings dinner with the parents and at these eventís you might feel anxious but she brought you alone because she cares , she wants you to be included in the events of her life and bring you closer to her in ways you would never even imagine. Donít give up Ö Hold her and Donít let her go .

Ė U53L355
poet Anonymous

I know I have lost

The markings of a familiar face left embedded in my brain
It's been years since I had seen her red eyes and tears of pain
She left me with permanent scaring in not only my flesh but scratchings etched inside me as I opened up to her and came out of hiding . I thought I had escaped this abuse but the flash memories will never go away .
It's like a photo taken with a timer but the smile was much wider as you waited for what seems like an eternal 10seconds , the photo that's taken must be mistaken as my smile is replaced with a frown .

I didn't care about the money I spent it's trust that i'd lent and the times I blamed myself .

Fuck this , I'll never trust again. I'll admit that I lost and You win.
poet Anonymous

Priceless or Worthless?

My affections set on these pages
My heart in print and ignored
Faking the illusion of accomplishment
What is success in this?
I try to capture the audience
But I find no stage to platform my efforts

Just behind the scenes
I bear the flesh of this for strangers
Marketing for accolades
And hardly a penny for my thoughts
Torn between something priceless or worthless
When sentiments are self valued
And yet unappreciated

Like a beggar soliciting to be noticed
Staged on the infamy of a vacant street
At the mercy of bread crumbs
What lack I feel in this
But a manifestation of something deeper
Lost for divided reputations
The critically acclaimed outcast of mind

I strive to give more love than I know how to receive
Unrequited affection of my reflection
Incurable this ailment of self-infection
Seeking acceptance in the place of my own rejection

I rise to betray myself
Like Judas tendencies pursed at the cheek of a god-complex
Every kiss comes with a knife
My every sin as mutilation to the soul
Like I am the host to the ailments of temptation
And so easily ensnared by the virus of my own humanity

When impulse is master I am slave to desire
Dry as the monotony of routine and subject to fire
Stray sparks lay claim and in this burn I dwell
When every pleasure indulged is a self-made hell...
poet Anonymous

Strange Fruit

Earth tone, the melanin jazz that sings throughout my veins    
The protective barriers when, Come By Here My Lord provided no cooling rain †  
Such a blessed skin to be, beautiful to adorn, it reproduces in so many shades † †  
From Bronze, to Honey, Brown Sugar, and the sweetest taste of marmalade † †  
†† † †
You could say I am not that dark † †  
Most will say, we all bleed the same when given our own foundational spark † †  
Yesteryears denied me my rights, my land, and my mule † † †  
That old Constitution creed and the three forth rule † †  
Are we not a presence to stand † †  
Do we not deserve the pursuit of happiness, for every, child, woman, and man † †  
† † †  
We bleed the same do we not † †  
When the last breaths are rendered, who cares who holds my hand, the color of death always leads to a burial plot † †  
Was I fair in life, manís fairer soul screams from the grave † †  
Did I give the darker man a chance to pave his own way † †  
Did I stand up for equal rights † †  
Or hide my pride behind crosses at night † †  
† † †  
Oh God, if I can only turn back the hands of time † †  
I would listen until I understand the relative theories behind all mankind † †  
No more segregating my soul † †  
I ask you to let me enter through those Pearly Gates, for my weary spirit begs to be consoled † †  
My Lord, there are so many down there just like me † †  
How do I explain to ignorance this is all we ever hope to see † †  
† † †  
Each night as we pray on our knees to believe † †  
Such a beautiful life found in the enlighten of the Alpha and the Omega, yet we deceived † †  
No diamonds, money, mansions, which has passed, it is only vague if there ever was † † †
If only I learned better to forgive and love † †  
Plagues, diseases, famine, I wish I had more time † †  
I would turn back the clock to preach the gospel from Jesusí fruitful vines † †  
† † †  
The darker man, had a future and a plan † †  
Until our ships invaded the shores of the Motherland † † †  
The Dutch, the British, Portugal, unto West Africans they accepted monetary settlements, taken, and separated placentas in vain † † †  
Deceived into labor to sow Sugarcane † †  
The Middle Passage, lost souls, revolt in the quest for freedom, escaping the stench and the brutality of pain † †  
Dark hands of the plantation we tilled † † †  
Confined among a bed of cotton, lashed, without the thought of free will † † †  
† † †  
One by one, chained, beaten, broken, now under a docile reprimand † †  
And you stand here in judgment asking to repeat your life over again † †  
Would you tear up the forefatherís scrolls, words expressed where darkness is valued a sin † †  
Black Friday, Black Plaque, Black Cat, Blackmailed and any other unsavory odds and ins † †  
Give me just one more attempt, please, I will set things right, not just, okay † †  
From the Emancipation I will revisit to the revolt of the Haitian slaves † † †  
I will scream to the mountaintops it has to be a better way † †  
Bowing down thy head in shame, the book of life, minus my name † †  
Go son with forgiveness † †  
Spread love, compassion, and this Day of Judgment, will never be your haunting reminisce † †  
† † †  
I will plant the seeds without malice or unlawful intent † †  
Blowing in the wind my salvation, my soul shall toll until this is understood without relent † † †  
The day will come for everyone to live and die with honor † †  
Not standing here and expect to stand in Godís favor as a sinful loner † †  
To eat among Gods table, in Heavenly skies † †  
I ask the question, whatís done to the dark, shall always encounter the light by-and-by † †  
† † †  
Selah
poet Anonymous

Broken Teacup

- Broken Teacup -

Into my mind, I go seeking some peaceful truth,
But in the thousand shards of my feminine soulÖ
There is a darkness that no light can ever undo!
I am lonely; there is no one that can soft console,
The child who lies at the core of my spiritís beingÖ
Who cries herself to sleep, and runs from noises!
Then I remember the way I was taught of seeing,
Beyond lifeís terrors, beyond all of fateís choicesÖ
Into the heart of totality, and I know I am strong.
Some see me as an angel, others: something else,
I see only a little girl, who knows what is wrongÖ
And what is right; I go by what I have always felt.
But, I never feel perfect, or as pretty as I desireÖ
Like a broken teacup: once of whitest porcelain.
They smashed the teacup, burned it with hot fire!
Everything that makes me pure, others called sin.
There was no emerald city over the far rainbowÖ
I was lied to when they said I could travel hence.
All I saw were the mountains and the cold snow,
I felt naked and exposed, without a true defense!

There was no place like home, but where is that!
Not the place I grew up, the family that hates me.
Only my beautiful gardens, where so often I satÖ
Longing, and pining: for some pleasant company.
If I closed my eyes whilst on the bench reclining,
My garden could seem like some heavenly realm.
I could imagine I had a lover, no longer so pining!
Then I could dream, letting the beauty overwhelm.
But if soon my love comes not to grace my arms,
I might perish from pining, and fade into the dusk.
Will they find me lying silent, asleep in my charms?
Then will I be burned, or start to crumble to dustÖ
Having died of a broken heart, of hope shattered?
Like a broken teacup, dropped unto marble tiles!
I have been smashed; and, I have been batteredÖ
Yet I always rose again by the power of my wiles.
The winter covers my gardens, and the old bench,
So I know I shall not die there of loneliness today.
The air is chill enough to make oneís teeth clench!
Chill and silent: like, a broken teacupís sad grave.

I try to sing, and dance, and be the child I wished,
That I had been when I was in my younger years!
Am I mad because my innocence is undiminished?
Perhaps I am merely tired, of weeping sad tearsÖ
And so I giggle, laugh, and act like some little girl.
The child inside me, the porcelain doll, the teacup,
Who was broken and abused by the whole world.
I have come to far to die, too far to ever give upÖ
And so I pine for love, and my hope pounds hotly!
But hope does not plant a flower gardenís seedsÖ
Nor can hope alone grant me a loverís fair reverie.
If there be one who understands my heartís needs,
Then please tell me you are reading what I writeÖ
Because life can be as hard as a marble tiled floor.
You must always be separating wrong, from right!
But in the larger tapestry, there must be far moreÖ
Than a blind obedience: even to oneís own beliefs.
If I believe in love, then let me be given a fair sign!
Before I perish, my heart taken, in a sea of griefÖ
I must find my strength, and dream one more time.
poet Anonymous

You Don't Love Me

Iím sure you donít love me the way I love you.
You donít feel the passion for me that I feel for you.
And it doesnít excite you when I hug your waist.
The love you speak of doesnít show in your action.
You donít even look like a woman whoís in love.
Iíve poured out my heart to you with tears,
But you never took me seriously or consoled me.

I canít tell why I love you because I donít know.
Moreover, I donít need a reason to love you.
Darling, I wish you could love me without a reason.
Iíve been holding on to this wishful love for a long time.
Separation is the hardest thing to go through,
But I donít want you to stay with me out of obligation.
If you donít sincerely love me, end it right here.

I know you canít control who you love or donít love.
And I canít force someone to desire me.
I wouldnít program you to love me even if I could.
No, Iíd rather you love me by your own choice.
My optimism diminishes as we slowly drift apart.
You wonít say that youíre not in love with me;
Nevertheless you fail to show me real love.

Why do you subject yourself to this torture?
I want to hear you say the sad words to me.
Tell me the truth; say you donít love me anymore.
Darling, please donít continue to be in denial.
Iíll never feel that Iíve wasted my love on you.
Although you donít love me the way I want you to,
Iíll preserve all my love for you when you leave.
poet Anonymous

Bringing down the anxious animal

Standing by the science block,  
that's where it started,  
chalk on a blazer's back,  
a two handed push,  
"What are you looking at?  
slap.  
Get out of my way  
and give me that!  
gritted teeth gripped school ties.  

Each day I took a piece,  
nibbled on his flesh,  
the soft parts of his mind.  
Made him small,  
made him more afraid.  

Then the shudders started,  
broke down, begged me to stop,  
uncontrollable and I had done that;  
I had done that.  
It sat me down,  
Samson, shaven and blind.  

Two hours to take the bandages off,  
why and what I had done.  
Listened to his metaphor of me,  
the pages of his ink black book,  
detailed and gruesome.  
Hard for me to trace,  
drawings sketched in despair,
torn and hard to repair. †  

It's good at hiding now,  
deep in its jungle.  
But if someone stands  
exposed,  
lost in my long grass.  
Then I hear it  
coming through the trees,  
tension lifts its chains.  

I hope the dart  
never misses its mark
we wouldn't want a monster that insecure
to feast on anyone else's  insecurity.
poet Anonymous

im not hot and im not funny so i guess i could be intelligent

 

ah when will this life end? help me
i'm trapped in reality
and i can't get out

i have a heart condition where little pixies chew on it to feed their demon auras

i have some memory issues and i wish i had more

you must be so bored but let me keep you one sec
i just had to remind you my soul is the size of a walnut
and its somehow stuck in my fucking oesophagus
haha
if you think you could fuck my oesophagus
you must really fear nothing
all i'm saying is i have one wonky tooth and if i bite something u KNOW it's me right

what does a girl have to do to get some poison around here?
what do i have to do to get you to fix the damn boiler?
i'm too cute
yeah and i am holding a ceramic knife in my pocket

isn't that a major loophole in airport security


poet Anonymous

unrecognized within a glimpse of familiar

   
† †  
I've been mulling over an idea † †  
while reading † †  
always incessantly reading † †  
which leads to writing, † † †
of course † †  
† † †
There's a quote † †  
a mantra, maybe † †  
that i came across † †  
i loosely remember † †  
something akin † †  
to being fearless † †  
or to be brave, in my humanity † †  
(you'll know it when you see it) † †  
how ironic, really † †  
me, brave? † †  
† † †
My palms are instant flopsweat at even the hint of true soul sharing... † †  
† † †
What's worthy? † †  
i am not that interesting † †  
my inner secret self sits crossed legged† †  
'fingers plugged in ears' † †  
while singing an annoying song-- † †  
and ignoring † †  
NOT wanting to be cracked open † †  
but knowing † †  
† † †
There's a bagel cooking now † †  
right now † †  
i love that smell of it toasting † †  
and i love cream cheese, † †  
more than i should † †  
perhaps more than life itself? † †  
i try not to pile it on † †  
yet i always do † †  
it's a reaction to not being able to have it † †
not when you're a (former) fat kid † †
it was (is?) taboo † †  
a hard smack across the face † †  
(one of many) † †  
is the answer † †  
when you schmear the "wrong amount" † †  
if you ever had a mother like my own † †  
In fact-any bread version † †  
outside the listed options, really
† †  
(Note: the list was displayed on the front of the fridge and entitled †
"Susan's allowed foods " --i was 8 years old) †
much less 'too much' cream cheese †
'behavior' that usually left my face stinging red †
with cheeks trailed in teary †
not sure whether it was a slap †
or my usual humiliation †
that caused blistering face glow †
†  
"You're NOT eating THAT... †
i won't have any daughter of mine embarrass me with her fat ass"...
†  
Close up, †
peering into the lion's den †
it was worse †
†  
much worse. †  
†  
The harshest damage done is usually that of the unseen. No physical marks? Then no harm no foul....
†  
By thirteen †
i was the lone survivor †
the youngest of three daughters †
left to my own defenses †
alone and much too aware †
of the wrath upcoming †
i had watched for years †
the worst (or so i thought) soul crushing †
self esteem annihilation †
an obliteration †
forever an insecurity creating †
persons ruined, for all intents and purposes †
two older sister's were unfortunate †
within their joint victimization †
at least they had each other †
and since they usually weathered together †
I thought I was †
for the most part †
considering †
and in comparison †
left alone - psyche wise †
(except the publicity displayed humiliation †
of the fridge list) †
until i wasn't
i watched and heard everything †
the internal household anguish ran visceral †
day to day of only surviving †
my eighty to ninety an hour †
work week father †
was in perpetual hiding †
which allowed for zero cover †
of a child's delicate emotional guiding †
already scarred deeper than †
any tender child of that age †
should ever have to stand; †
i was all alone †
no one to help me defend †
so, i was the brunt †
of all her known own self hate †
inflicted via transference †
a verbal bloody non-stop hate-filled occurrence †
not a day went by †
that i wasn't reminded of weight, fit or food †
often it was only water †
and a Flintstones children's chewable vitamin †
that sustenance provided †
my sisters were gone †
dad didn't think anything was ever wrong †
†  
so, i just lived it.
†  
over and over †
tears, hunger, ridicule †
a daily tiny death of my real self's worth †
†  
There's nothing that tastes as good as skinny feels...
†  
A lie that i tried desperately to become... †
to be all, to be real †
i did finally †
i became that longed for ideal †
everything was supposedly better †
when that pressure †
and iron fist was now all clear †
†  
Right? †  
†  
Yeah, not even close to being right †
†  
I realized on the cusp †
of my own grown up life †
that she's her own worst punishment †
her and just her †
all alone with her own mind †
†  
As for myself †  
I'm forever scarred †
but I get glimpses †
of a hoped for familiar †
I recognize it clearly †
†  
"you'll know it when you see it..." †
†  
... that fearless humanity † †  
† † †
† † †
† † †
† † †
† † †
† † †
poet Anonymous

Alack!

The darkness provokes me crazed morbidity enters my soul,  
There is nothing that will please thee, till the blood that you seek is in that bowl!
 
A charming demonís romance, pleasantries of words that you whispered into my ears,
Canít you see, what has it brought to me, nothing to see and nothing feel only pain and tears  
 
tiny sweats trickling down my temple, the feeling of wrath making me tremble with fear
like a vengeance laid upon me wanting me to stray from whom I truly hold dear!
 
I see that you want me to suffocate  
planting upon me the seeds of hate
trapping me with the illusions of fate
pretending you are my best mate!
 
You, who like a dagger ploughed  
Into my heart with deadly thrill
Your will, stronger than a crowd  
Of demons, mad, and dressed to kill
 
Your bed, your lodging, and your domain, me a dejected soul you  have made
Perfidious poison I have preyed,  
help my cowardice, with gallantry of a sudden blade.  
 
My hope my prayer my remorse, what more will you try to take?
the sudden blade, I besought and  
I win me for my freedom with none else to trade.  
 
I am letting you take, for I will forsake  
the lies that you have said and made my heart break  
the sufferings you brought on to me, the anger and misery, whatís there to sooth?
I am cheated, in the end itís by my youth, and thatís the absolute truth!
 
"You - my inked love-are not fit to be chainedĒ
This treacherous feeling of love has left me drained  
In the city where we celebrate the Festival of Dead
Alack! I will be the mortal with the blade, and I will set it upon your head!
poet Anonymous

I am a Multiple Fuck-Up Waiting to Happen

 
This May or the last several minutes
I believe when I set foot in a place invited by happenstance and synchronicity
met a manic writer
who wrote much better shit than my dribble.
 
I am grateful to her for  
now I had an outlet for
my diagnosis, my strong emotions - new discoveries.
 
I am grateful for meeting and making some friends.
 
Iíve lost some too.
 
I donít know if it is my failure to read the abstract painted throughout the world and the life,
the lives contained therein, or if it is my blind lust to help others at all costs
or my FUCKING demons who whisper sweet nothings to me daily
& try to get me to give inÖ
 
If I knew what ever gets me to
Fuck-Up my closest of friendships to a point
of no forgiveness,
well then I could stop these behaviors and change.
 
I think it is much too late for karmic clean-up as the rotted flesh of group opinion still lingers like an ooze from an advanced wound full of yellow puss of hate.
 
I have a theory
(yeah, I got a whole book of fucking theories)
 
that if I stop to think about the pros and cons of every single decision in my mental daily interactions then perhaps
I would not lose so many friends who I love and cherish
with a fierceness.
 
Hmmm, another theory:
why my real life family participated in the physical abuse and tortures upon me Ė because
 
I AM A MULTIPLE FUCK-UP WAITING TO HAPPEN.
 
I have stumbled upon a realization moment
and I didnít even have to
light a candle and meditate.
 
Wow!
poet Anonymous

A Name

A name
What can be said,
It's just a name
Its nothing,
Nobody,
What can it be but a word
Words have meaning shore
But can they really mean that much,
When they are spoken from your mouth?
A face,
It's just a thing we see
Its nothing,
Nobody,
It's what i see in the mirror
It's what i hope to be
But still
There's nothing
An empty shell off what i used to be
A reflection of what i could of been
Its just a name
poet Anonymous

silently...

...with a tourniquet
clinch the pain
of darkness
silently...

...free of the curse
of dancing vowels
and pronouns
of sealing wax...

...souls of my dreams
shedding all fears
feeling the twilight
flame my wick...

...letting the ink fall
of dried tea
sweet as death's insomnia
on stones of emerald eyes
of lips whispering to me
silently...


poet Anonymous

Boooooom!!!!!

Opening my eyes
Donít want to face life
The sun streaming through
Is like a stabbing knife
There to torture me

These cold thoughts
Fire in my mind
Like bullets trying to put me down
The sound of my own breathing
Keeps me awake

Locked away
In the hell of my own creation
A prisoner on death row
Waiting on justice to fall
Donít know how to let go

Iíve thought about it
Been mistaken for having a soul
This weakness has tested me
A ticking time bomb
With a faulty primer

Itís a waiting game
An intermittent connection
Just a matter of time
A split second
Booooooom!!!!!!

Go to page:
Go to: