Poems About Life As A Writer Seeking Friendly Advice
#LifeAsAWriter
Jabbo
Poem Published
14th Aug 2017 6:58pm
14th Aug 2017 6:58pm
Keep it to myself
If you were to walk in, I would loose control
Probably get nervous and do something strange
Then if I told you, would you believe me
If I said that I'd always feel the same
When you need me, just call me
I will be right there to help
All that I could say, but I won't
I will keep it to myself
I could be comfortable in bed, but for you I will stay up all night
You could be wrong, still I am with you
I can take one to save you the fight
I could hit the lottery and make sure you had some wealth
I just can't tell you what I would...
Probably get nervous and do something strange
Then if I told you, would you believe me
If I said that I'd always feel the same
When you need me, just call me
I will be right there to help
All that I could say, but I won't
I will keep it to myself
I could be comfortable in bed, but for you I will stay up all night
You could be wrong, still I am with you
I can take one to save you the fight
I could hit the lottery and make sure you had some wealth
I just can't tell you what I would...
#LifeAsAWriter
563 reads
4 Comments
Writer23
Unknown soul
Unknown soul
Poem Published
13th Aug 2017 1:47am
13th Aug 2017 1:47am
Seeker
I search for
Your face
Amongst the
Crowds, Streets
Alleys
I know there's
No hope, but
Every seeker
Is entitled
To their search
Your face
Amongst the
Crowds, Streets
Alleys
I know there's
No hope, but
Every seeker
Is entitled
To their search
#LifeAsAWriter
707 reads
8 Comments
toniscales
Lost Girl
Lost Girl
Poem Published
12th Aug 2017 11:42pm
12th Aug 2017 11:42pm
This is My Sign
There is a very kind woman speaking to me now.
She has talked with me pretty much all day long.
She is helping me. Guiding me.
I wonder if you know... The extent of what you did to me.
Though you did absolutely nothing. And absolutely nothing wrong.
You were just being a human being. And being young. And trying to enjoy your own life.
This kind woman... She has told me. Refrain. For only an hour. Then maybe an hour more.
I feel I need to reach out. I miss them so much. I need them so much.
I did something...
She has talked with me pretty much all day long.
She is helping me. Guiding me.
I wonder if you know... The extent of what you did to me.
Though you did absolutely nothing. And absolutely nothing wrong.
You were just being a human being. And being young. And trying to enjoy your own life.
This kind woman... She has told me. Refrain. For only an hour. Then maybe an hour more.
I feel I need to reach out. I miss them so much. I need them so much.
I did something...
#love
#strength
#LifeAsAWriter
#morality
#StreamOfConsciousness
658 reads
1 Comment
kiernanmrourke
Poem Published
12th Aug 2017 8:30pm
12th Aug 2017 8:30pm
If There Was A Way 7-8-17
If there was a way that you’d love me again
To bring both the sun and the moon close to kiss
If there was a way you could pardon my sin
To quell fire and ice in a heart such as this
If I could leave sleeping the pain that has woken
The deserts and oceans would share the milieu;
If there was a way to unbreak the broken
And take all our pieces to glue back anew
Our story’s left wanting, forever it’ll yearn
Cut short to the quick- a premature end
This poem isn’t done, but that bridge is burned
Because there’s no way that you’d...
To bring both the sun and the moon close to kiss
If there was a way you could pardon my sin
To quell fire and ice in a heart such as this
If I could leave sleeping the pain that has woken
The deserts and oceans would share the milieu;
If there was a way to unbreak the broken
And take all our pieces to glue back anew
Our story’s left wanting, forever it’ll yearn
Cut short to the quick- a premature end
This poem isn’t done, but that bridge is burned
Because there’s no way that you’d...
#acceptance
#LifeAsAWriter
#LifeCycle
#MovingOn
#WritingPoetry
537 reads
3 Comments
thewatcher33
Poem Published
12th Aug 2017 8:10pm
12th Aug 2017 8:10pm
Herald
An indistinguishable essence
inked into the fabric of my being
she belongs to me and I her
like the tattooed sleeves
branded deeply with
love and tenderness
a signed contact
written with a firm hand
offering heated passions
beneficially mutual
her heart
her sexuality
and sensuality
her mind
her body and
her desires
she puts it all on the line
stamped in blood
sweat and kink
a...
inked into the fabric of my being
she belongs to me and I her
like the tattooed sleeves
branded deeply with
love and tenderness
a signed contact
written with a firm hand
offering heated passions
beneficially mutual
her heart
her sexuality
and sensuality
her mind
her body and
her desires
she puts it all on the line
stamped in blood
sweat and kink
a...
#love
#depression
#LifeAsAWriter
#WritingPoetry
#SelfDiscovery
2167 reads
0 Comments
Grace
IDryad
IDryad
Poem Published
11th Aug 2017 2:02am
11th Aug 2017 2:02am
Hi to Me
Hi young Grace...
the marriage will fail
before you reach 25
don't say yes
you will fall in love
after five years alone
its a bad idea
he will leave you
for another prettier version
of a woman
those two major events should not happen.
the marriage will fail
before you reach 25
don't say yes
you will fall in love
after five years alone
its a bad idea
he will leave you
for another prettier version
of a woman
those two major events should not happen.
#LifeAsAWriter
747 reads
11 Comments
oskar
Poem Published
9th Aug 2017 10:06am
9th Aug 2017 10:06am
dream makers
Dream makers
Through grimy windows, I can see
Santa and his elves blowing
bubbles, goblets and vases heat
and rolled up sleeves
Outside, large flakes of snow
dissolve on asphalt.
From the bar next door
red shadows and empty music leaked
out and into the gutter.
Hard smiles, and much wine, nicotine tongues
meet experienced lips.
Behind the bar a baseball bat,
the cheap scent and fake rings,
loneliness dances with greed.
Through grimy windows, I can see
Santa and his elves blowing
bubbles, goblets and vases heat
and rolled up sleeves
Outside, large flakes of snow
dissolve on asphalt.
From the bar next door
red shadows and empty music leaked
out and into the gutter.
Hard smiles, and much wine, nicotine tongues
meet experienced lips.
Behind the bar a baseball bat,
the cheap scent and fake rings,
loneliness dances with greed.
#LifeAsAWriter
693 reads
1 Comment
AutisticPoet
Poem Published
9th Aug 2017 00:22am
9th Aug 2017 00:22am
Expressing My Write
Every poem that I write
is a testimony of what I fight.
illness,
life,
struggle,
and strife
these are the things I fight.
is a testimony of what I fight.
illness,
life,
struggle,
and strife
these are the things I fight.
#LifeStruggles
#LifeAsAWriter
470 reads
0 Comments
standingmyground
Poem Published
7th Aug 2017 7:43pm
7th Aug 2017 7:43pm
Alma
I wish I had a picture of Alma, but unfortunately I do not.
Alma and I were in the same class during our high school years.
<><><><><><><><><><>
the mothers sized Alma up
as a girl who would entice their sons
into groping backseat maneuvers
the mothers looked at her
as if she was wearing
a sullied negligee smelling gamy
and sporting a hickey both sides of her neck
Alma could never charm the mothers
but the fathers ogled her
she was what the mothers ...
Alma and I were in the same class during our high school years.
<><><><><><><><><><>
the mothers sized Alma up
as a girl who would entice their sons
into groping backseat maneuvers
the mothers looked at her
as if she was wearing
a sullied negligee smelling gamy
and sporting a hickey both sides of her neck
Alma could never charm the mothers
but the fathers ogled her
she was what the mothers ...
#city
#LifeAsAWriter
#memories
#LifeChangingMoment
#memorial
896 reads
7 Comments
PoetsRevenge
Poem Published
19th Jul 2017 1:10am
19th Jul 2017 1:10am
Arien
Ride the wind, carry your torch
Such mythology ---
A splendor.
Swallow the fitful wave
As you arise to cast your
Dubious divide.
How deep your furrows
Rising agonic ---
What demise.
Your pace I can never catch
Shaken to rein, barebacked;
So empty inside.
Hands peel away as
You fly, mercuric, borne of
A heavens' stride.
My head flies back
Hair locked in a vaccum to
Reciprocity, a candor.
Estuarian blankness,
A stasis to penetrate
The worlds...
Such mythology ---
A splendor.
Swallow the fitful wave
As you arise to cast your
Dubious divide.
How deep your furrows
Rising agonic ---
What demise.
Your pace I can never catch
Shaken to rein, barebacked;
So empty inside.
Hands peel away as
You fly, mercuric, borne of
A heavens' stride.
My head flies back
Hair locked in a vaccum to
Reciprocity, a candor.
Estuarian blankness,
A stasis to penetrate
The worlds...
#horses
#SylviaPlath
#LifeAsAWriter
737 reads
6 Comments
Grace
IDryad
IDryad
Poem Published
2nd Jun 2017 1:44am
2nd Jun 2017 1:44am
The Written Words
The Written Words
with malice
destroy the spirit
destroy love, erode victory
sending some to spiral
into the deepest darkness
words can stir up
hatred and violence
resulting in genocides
with love
it strengthens a union
cheer up the depressed
save lives
bolster faith
weave beauty in tales
bear the next generation
never underestimate words
spoken or written
Words are Powerful.
with malice
destroy the spirit
destroy love, erode victory
sending some to spiral
into the deepest darkness
words can stir up
hatred and violence
resulting in genocides
with love
it strengthens a union
cheer up the depressed
save lives
bolster faith
weave beauty in tales
bear the next generation
never underestimate words
spoken or written
Words are Powerful.
#LifeAsAWriter
#PowerOfWords
1780 reads
10 Comments
Jade-Pandora
jade tiger
jade tiger
Poem Published
7th May 2017 11:24am
7th May 2017 11:24am
Sylvia
how ingenious
a photo taken
the year of their marriage,
hands grasping his
around her waist
and years later
arms holding their children
and in between,
the New England tanned blonde
to English mouse brown pale
still
always those dark eyes
penetrating
telling on herself,
showing plainly
the frailty, the pain
the wire she walks
between
brilliance and sanity
between
chaos and poetry,
between a child's cold
and suicide
still
coveting the...
a photo taken
the year of their marriage,
hands grasping his
around her waist
and years later
arms holding their children
and in between,
the New England tanned blonde
to English mouse brown pale
still
always those dark eyes
penetrating
telling on herself,
showing plainly
the frailty, the pain
the wire she walks
between
brilliance and sanity
between
chaos and poetry,
between a child's cold
and suicide
still
coveting the...
#suicide
#SylviaPlath
#LifeAsAWriter #MentalHealth
#LifeAsAWriter #MentalHealth
1363 reads
10 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems About Life As A Writer Seeking Friendly Advice
