Popular Poems About Writing Poetry
#WritingPoetry
Popular poems about writing poetry. Poems are listed in order of their popularity this month.
Deeper Underground I Go
I can’t count the number
of poems I’ve expelled
beyond the busted seams
of experience
As if those seams could keep
the poems from my voice
How many emotions
were galactic tapestries
unraveling from a solar plexus
storing so many lives
How many verses reflect
the present
versus the ghosts
of a former century
And yet,
deeper underground
I go
The trick to navigating
the bowels of the beast
is not succumbing
to illusion over...
of poems I’ve expelled
beyond the busted seams
of experience
As if those seams could keep
the poems from my voice
How many emotions
were galactic tapestries
unraveling from a solar plexus
storing so many lives
How many verses reflect
the present
versus the ghosts
of a former century
And yet,
deeper underground
I go
The trick to navigating
the bowels of the beast
is not succumbing
to illusion over...
#DeepUndergroundPoetry
#love
#SelfWorth #WritingPoetry
#SelfWorth #WritingPoetry
316 reads
16 Comments
Writing About Us
I dipped my fingers
Into the inkwell
Of my desire
And met you
Into the inkwell
Of my desire
And met you
#erotic
#passion
#seductive #WritingPoetry
#seductive #WritingPoetry
279 reads
18 Comments
This is me
I'm not interested in being understood. I'm interested in being felt.
#minimalist
#philosophical
#SelfReflection #WritingPoetry
#SelfReflection #WritingPoetry
104 reads
18 Comments
What I see
My art is a reflection of society's sickness. I cut into the wounds and expose the rot.
#minimalist
#SelfReflection
#WritingPoetry #philosophical
#WritingPoetry #philosophical
79 reads
16 Comments
Another stupid poem
I miss you
I wish you never left me
Sadness follows me
A new year, with the same old sorrows
Screw this!
I'm too old for this shit
My feelings and this poem were pathetic
I'm gonna blast some Deicide, cook some burgers and later on watch some Stallone, Schwarzenegger or Lundgren films
By tomorrow morning, she'll be a distant memory.
I wish you never left me
Sadness follows me
A new year, with the same old sorrows
Screw this!
I'm too old for this shit
My feelings and this poem were pathetic
I'm gonna blast some Deicide, cook some burgers and later on watch some Stallone, Schwarzenegger or Lundgren films
By tomorrow morning, she'll be a distant memory.
#love
#MovingOn
#WritingPoetry #fiction
#WritingPoetry #fiction
115 reads
16 Comments
Undressing The Moon - with Lilliputian
Favoring the night with velvet notes
so tender in shades of neon lights
In sleepy times boozy cozy quotes
the woodwind blowing saxophone
As fingers play with skill bones
pinned to the hour's silhouette
a hot cool-breath ghosting
crazy-ass tempos undressing the moon
Humming to the twinkling stars
a smooth chant for the dancing shadows
interwoven with the touch of euphony
and harmonious, airborne tunes
Lost to the sweet nuzzles of the breeze
hushing the whispering disquiet
in an ephemeral night with...
so tender in shades of neon lights
In sleepy times boozy cozy quotes
the woodwind blowing saxophone
As fingers play with skill bones
pinned to the hour's silhouette
a hot cool-breath ghosting
crazy-ass tempos undressing the moon
Humming to the twinkling stars
a smooth chant for the dancing shadows
interwoven with the touch of euphony
and harmonious, airborne tunes
Lost to the sweet nuzzles of the breeze
hushing the whispering disquiet
in an ephemeral night with...
#collaboration
#WritingPoetry
102 reads
5 Comments
paper boats
We who have comets as eyes,
leave us our voice in these voids
do not define me
The vanishing fairies
have told me to never leave
" do not repent our frolics, "
they tell me to walk light-footed
as they dance to sea music,
beguiled by them
The vanishing fairies sit by my side
their wings surround me as I speak
Tomorrow I will polish my three-tiered tiara
adjust it while the rain falls
and I write towards that point
within all horizons
where our...
leave us our voice in these voids
do not define me
The vanishing fairies
have told me to never leave
" do not repent our frolics, "
they tell me to walk light-footed
as they dance to sea music,
beguiled by them
The vanishing fairies sit by my side
their wings surround me as I speak
Tomorrow I will polish my three-tiered tiara
adjust it while the rain falls
and I write towards that point
within all horizons
where our...
#WritingPoetry
41 reads
6 Comments
No Verbal Tense
In the twilight of day, where shadows stretch long,
you find yourself pondering, life's complex song.
The moon, a cheese wheel, rolls across the sky,
stars sprinkle the heavens, a cosmic pie.
Your thoughts wander, a kite in a hurricane,
pulled by the winds of whimsy and pain.
Cats sleep, their purrs a melody sweet,
dreams of catnip and mice at their feet.
You sip on your tea, a brew of contemplation,
steeping in moments of pure fascination.
Each sip a journey, a boat on life's river,
navigating currents that make your...
you find yourself pondering, life's complex song.
The moon, a cheese wheel, rolls across the sky,
stars sprinkle the heavens, a cosmic pie.
Your thoughts wander, a kite in a hurricane,
pulled by the winds of whimsy and pain.
Cats sleep, their purrs a melody sweet,
dreams of catnip and mice at their feet.
You sip on your tea, a brew of contemplation,
steeping in moments of pure fascination.
Each sip a journey, a boat on life's river,
navigating currents that make your...
#cats
#earth
#humankind
#universe
#WritingPoetry
39 reads
8 Comments
Flowers for Confessors
after TS Eliot
Anne Sexton was obsessed with death,
That bellringer, this gravedigger.
In stylish dress, with gin-smoked breath,
Her corpse lolled in the gas-drenched car.
Cocktail sticks poke out her eyes,
The housewife’s life in grim surmise.
Measured out in olives, parts,
Domestic violence, artichoke hearts.
Plath, I guess, preceded her,
As death begets, like rabbits breed.
She sought a solace in the slur
Against fathers, the daughter’s need.
She knew the pain of too much sense,
The flowers...
Anne Sexton was obsessed with death,
That bellringer, this gravedigger.
In stylish dress, with gin-smoked breath,
Her corpse lolled in the gas-drenched car.
Cocktail sticks poke out her eyes,
The housewife’s life in grim surmise.
Measured out in olives, parts,
Domestic violence, artichoke hearts.
Plath, I guess, preceded her,
As death begets, like rabbits breed.
She sought a solace in the slur
Against fathers, the daughter’s need.
She knew the pain of too much sense,
The flowers...
#historical
#MentalHealth
#suicide #WritingPoetry
#suicide #WritingPoetry
72 reads
2 Comments
Excel
Rhymes and spaces
Words some verse
Poets, places
Eyes observe
Pen and ink
Cast magic spells
Thoughts extract
Whilst YOU excel
Words some verse
Poets, places
Eyes observe
Pen and ink
Cast magic spells
Thoughts extract
Whilst YOU excel
#LifeAsAWriter
#WritingPoetry
80 reads
10 Comments
Appreciated kindness
Will I ever know why
making a wish is so hard?
Turning a wish into a truth.
Hold the breath until I'm blue.
Why should I...
Why could I...
Why would I even try?
No year is ever so new.
No bone is easy to chew.
So let me simply just blow you
a kiss... a kiss... a kiss...
Let's wait for the blizzard to end.
I swear to you no one else will know.
No soul was harmed in the making
of this movie slow motion!
No light is clear until meeting
the darkness.
making a wish is so hard?
Turning a wish into a truth.
Hold the breath until I'm blue.
Why should I...
Why could I...
Why would I even try?
No year is ever so new.
No bone is easy to chew.
So let me simply just blow you
a kiss... a kiss... a kiss...
Let's wait for the blizzard to end.
I swear to you no one else will know.
No soul was harmed in the making
of this movie slow motion!
No light is clear until meeting
the darkness.
#healing
#learning
#MyInspiration
#tea
#WritingPoetry
59 reads
8 Comments
70's porn movies
When the imbeciles disembark
on the avenues of the favela
where we try to put up with each other,
all the dockers and all the bitches
on the docks and all the saints
of the last church...
Everyone, absolutely all the imbeciles
remain silent waiting
for the great cosmic revolution.
There are police movements
in all the dead ends
of that first world country.
Dead nuns, old doors and cats,
screaming on every
motherfucking rooftop.
on the avenues of the favela
where we try to put up with each other,
all the dockers and all the bitches
on the docks and all the saints
of the last church...
Everyone, absolutely all the imbeciles
remain silent waiting
for the great cosmic revolution.
There are police movements
in all the dead ends
of that first world country.
Dead nuns, old doors and cats,
screaming on every
motherfucking rooftop.
#LifeAsAWriter
#mirror
#MyInspiration
#WritersBlock
#WritingPoetry
79 reads
9 Comments
DU Poetry : Popular Poems About Writing Poetry