Prose Poetry
#prose
Prose poetry, here you'll find poems without any metrical, or rhyming structure. Poems written or spoken in language in its ordinary form.
Fishmander
Poem Published
1st Jul 2024 2:21am
1st Jul 2024 2:21am
Surrender
Wayward they appear to be
like hearing an echo one final time
draped in a sunset cliche
hair sifted by oceans, winds.
Storms cackle sour, distant
upon black steel clouds that rumble and flash
curious they look onward
unphased with a careless smile.
Wistful they wander and glide
my silver nymph, herald of the sea
lips parts to mutter magic
a word which offers release.
like hearing an echo one final time
draped in a sunset cliche
hair sifted by oceans, winds.
Storms cackle sour, distant
upon black steel clouds that rumble and flash
curious they look onward
unphased with a careless smile.
Wistful they wander and glide
my silver nymph, herald of the sea
lips parts to mutter magic
a word which offers release.
#love
#narrative
#prose #spiritual
#prose #spiritual
163 reads
3 Comments
DamianDeadLove
Poem Published
30th Jun 2024 7:20am
30th Jun 2024 7:20am
Solved The Dilemma
Hello, fellow poets of the underground. I tell you what it’s really hard to stay in a positive mood these days. All you gotta do is get on Facebook or YouTube and presto day fucking ruined. Especially anything that has to do with politics or the state of the world. I think I’m just tired of watching all the lunacy.
It’s theatrics and verbal semantics all day every day. I think some people would fight over a dried dog turd. Worse than that they’d get law enforcement involved and capture it all on video for public consumption. But saddest of all is the fact it would get clicks. ...
It’s theatrics and verbal semantics all day every day. I think some people would fight over a dried dog turd. Worse than that they’d get law enforcement involved and capture it all on video for public consumption. But saddest of all is the fact it would get clicks. ...
#prose
176 reads
4 Comments
dartford
Paul S...
Paul S...
Poem Published
29th Jun 2024 1:04am
29th Jun 2024 1:04am
she wonders why he’s still abed
reading in bed one saturday morning she questions what it is
that you’re reading
far too much into it, darling, he said, I’m just reading in bed
that you’re reading
far too much into it, darling, he said, I’m just reading in bed
#prose
135 reads
1 Comment
fianaturie8
Fia Naturie
Fia Naturie
Poem Published
26th Jun 2024 7:54pm
26th Jun 2024 7:54pm
The Grey of the Artic
The depth in the slate of natural rippling glass
Deceiving of its strength to hold
Inviting to tempt fate and step in
I see the weeping of the snow queen tears rests on your shoulders
Beautifully sad in her cold blessing of droplets that have dried leaving a white coat to last until she weeps again.
Deceiving of its strength to hold
Inviting to tempt fate and step in
I see the weeping of the snow queen tears rests on your shoulders
Beautifully sad in her cold blessing of droplets that have dried leaving a white coat to last until she weeps again.
#FreeVerse
#prose
91 reads
15 Comments
Alois_inwriting02
Poem Published
19th Jun 2024 1:53am
19th Jun 2024 1:53am
An Evening with a "Midnight Cowboy"
Moldy
Must—
Permeating the jovial air of the
eight
decade old
brick
barracks.
The sun’s begun to set to the west of wintry north chicago,
casting the clouds
in light that
renders in variegated
hues-
amorphous,
cotton
candy
clouds.
Our cowboy,
outfitted in his pristine
Cracker Jack Whites
turns from his window,
sauntering down the passageway.
a crowd’s congregated in the head,
his buddy from brooklyn’s...
Must—
Permeating the jovial air of the
eight
decade old
brick
barracks.
The sun’s begun to set to the west of wintry north chicago,
casting the clouds
in light that
renders in variegated
hues-
amorphous,
cotton
candy
clouds.
Our cowboy,
outfitted in his pristine
Cracker Jack Whites
turns from his window,
sauntering down the passageway.
a crowd’s congregated in the head,
his buddy from brooklyn’s...
#prose
135 reads
0 Comments
DamianDeadLove
Poem Published
8th Jun 2024 5:59am
8th Jun 2024 5:59am
Save A Life (Part 2 Of Cliffhanger)
After my escape from the fire. I headed into the studio, and sat down in front of the computer. My nerves were shot. I was very verklempt about the whole situation needless to say. I couldn’t understand the reason I blacked out. I mean I had gotten wild for sure. But I had never passed out, ever.
As I’m trying to pull myself together. My cell phone rings. It’s my mother calling me with what would be devastating news. My grandma had died this same morning. I struggled to not just burst out crying right there. I got through the call. But I was spiritually gutted inside. As I...
As I’m trying to pull myself together. My cell phone rings. It’s my mother calling me with what would be devastating news. My grandma had died this same morning. I struggled to not just burst out crying right there. I got through the call. But I was spiritually gutted inside. As I...
#prose
148 reads
3 Comments
DamianDeadLove
Poem Published
7th Jun 2024 8:47am
7th Jun 2024 8:47am
Cliffhanger
I gotta tell you. I’ve done some stupid shit in my lifetime. Especially if alcohol was involved. I’m not going to candy coat it, people. I’m a full-fledge alcoholic. I use that terminology because I don’t bullshit myself. I haven’t had a drink in a year, and a half. But I’m still an alcoholic. The disease doesn’t magically go away.
I know some people prefer the term, recovering alcoholic. I despise it. Mainly because I’m always just one drink away from starting again. I don’t participate, or partake any longer. But at the end of the day, I’m not cured.
...
I know some people prefer the term, recovering alcoholic. I despise it. Mainly because I’m always just one drink away from starting again. I don’t participate, or partake any longer. But at the end of the day, I’m not cured.
...
#prose
180 reads
5 Comments
DamianDeadLove
Poem Published
5th Jun 2024 7:37am
5th Jun 2024 7:37am
Higher Floor
Sometimes it’s like pushing a boulder up hill. The creative vibe has to be undeniable to think about writing. Getting old ain’t no picnic either. Memory isn’t what it once was, and finding the perfect time, well that doesn’t exist.
When I was starting out many moons ago. I could write a couple of poems a day until I’d get frustrated, simply because I wasn’t very good yet. Still don’t know that I’m any good, but I do have mileage now, and am what one might call seasoned.
In my prime years, which were my mid 20’s, to my early 30’s. I could bust out...
When I was starting out many moons ago. I could write a couple of poems a day until I’d get frustrated, simply because I wasn’t very good yet. Still don’t know that I’m any good, but I do have mileage now, and am what one might call seasoned.
In my prime years, which were my mid 20’s, to my early 30’s. I could bust out...
#prose
184 reads
8 Comments
Ashley_M_Hardy
Poem Published
4th Jun 2024 7:35am
4th Jun 2024 7:35am
Anti-anti Energy
Now
Take a look at the state of affairs today
Broken systems, criminal injustices, homicides, violence by the police/racist mobs,
Cultural strife and the madness by the media
The United States, one shining city on a hill in the middle of a very large plantation
Just burning, unlike Mississippi has ever seen before
So-called economists predict the waves of supply and demand, inflation, market failures, its successes
I don't have a Ph.D,
But I know exactly what the hell I'm talking about
Kenya and Uganda have strict anti-gay laws among...
Take a look at the state of affairs today
Broken systems, criminal injustices, homicides, violence by the police/racist mobs,
Cultural strife and the madness by the media
The United States, one shining city on a hill in the middle of a very large plantation
Just burning, unlike Mississippi has ever seen before
So-called economists predict the waves of supply and demand, inflation, market failures, its successes
I don't have a Ph.D,
But I know exactly what the hell I'm talking about
Kenya and Uganda have strict anti-gay laws among...
#PowerOfWords
#prose
214 reads
2 Comments
DamianDeadLove
Poem Published
4th Jun 2024 7:15am
4th Jun 2024 7:15am
Mrs. DeadLove
Minutes from the sunrise, on another cloudy day. Can smell the precipitation, that has already fallen. My bloodshot eyes, are burning from the night before. I can’t seem to balance myself, as I fumble through my pockets, looking for my lighter. Nothing, where the fuck, is that cheap bastard. I bought it at the gas station, last night, along with the couple packs of cigarettes.
Retreating back into the, hotel room. Searching all the tables, and surfaces. I don’t see them anywhere. I walk towards the bathroom, and see them on the side, of the bathtub. How the hell, did they...
Retreating back into the, hotel room. Searching all the tables, and surfaces. I don’t see them anywhere. I walk towards the bathroom, and see them on the side, of the bathtub. How the hell, did they...
#prose
223 reads
4 Comments
tasia_arlene
Tasia Arlene
Tasia Arlene
Poem Published
4th Jun 2024 3:35am
4th Jun 2024 3:35am
i found the moon
Endless, illuminating visions
Of the stranger that emanates a lavender hue.
Searching every shade, just trying to find you.
Under neon light and crying skies-
It began to intensify.
And to my surprise,
It wasn’t my purple where you reside.
It was me.
And it’s always been you.
Melting my passion and reds,
Into your soft and gentle blues.
Meeting each other’s skin to create a...
Of the stranger that emanates a lavender hue.
Searching every shade, just trying to find you.
Under neon light and crying skies-
It began to intensify.
And to my surprise,
It wasn’t my purple where you reside.
It was me.
And it’s always been you.
Melting my passion and reds,
Into your soft and gentle blues.
Meeting each other’s skin to create a...
#emotions
#hope
#love
#prose
#romantic
376 reads
3 Comments
DamianDeadLove
Poem Published
3rd Jun 2024 5:32am
3rd Jun 2024 5:32am
Words Hurt
Sticks and stones may break my bones. But words shall never hurt me”. Ever heard this old saying. Or a variation of it. This is the dumbest fucking statement ever uttered. In my opinion that is, because it leaves me scratching my head.
I know I’m a writer, so I tend to look at things, as a writer. This sometimes results, in me overthinking a plethora of topics. That being said, this isn’t fucking one of them. The ignorance of this kind of commentary, makes my brain hurt. Did this person understand, the meanings of the words, that someone called him.
I’m sure...
I know I’m a writer, so I tend to look at things, as a writer. This sometimes results, in me overthinking a plethora of topics. That being said, this isn’t fucking one of them. The ignorance of this kind of commentary, makes my brain hurt. Did this person understand, the meanings of the words, that someone called him.
I’m sure...
#prose
309 reads
8 Comments
DU Poetry : Prose Poetry
