Self Poems by Top Critiquers
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Personal poetry about the way you feel about yourself written by the DU Poetry top critiquers
(members who have given lots of useful comments to other poets this month)
JusTim_
Poem Published
Yesterday 1:14pm
Yesterday 1:14pm
Protected Paradise
Sadness bleeds through these words
crumbling down onto me
I'm a mountain holding on
rock solid
as the world throws down
an avalanche of anger
I'm no stranger to the sun
burning hot these trying eyes
breathe, I hear the whispers
for life is too short
to reign or rain
on someone else
and their protected paradise
crumbling down onto me
I'm a mountain holding on
rock solid
as the world throws down
an avalanche of anger
I'm no stranger to the sun
burning hot these trying eyes
breathe, I hear the whispers
for life is too short
to reign or rain
on someone else
and their protected paradise
#sadness
#anxiety
25 reads
10 Comments
Medinda
Poem Published
Yesterday 00:27am
Yesterday 00:27am
Charged
ISOLATION
MY
POWER
STATION
MY
POWER
STATION
#frustration
16 reads
4 Comments
Bender
Jarlath
Jarlath
Poem Published
Yesterday 11:52pm
Yesterday 11:52pm
A Poet's Hell
A poet in a lake of fire.
That burns to fill,
your heart's desire.
With words to raise
a smoldering lust.
I break down walls
and build up trust.
I seek to touch what lies inside,
where all the fear and darkness hide.
If only you would let me in,
to share my rhyme, and show my sin.
Allow my words to penetrate,
as pen and paper masturbate.
Ejaculating hopes and dreams,
to burst emotion at the seams.
I touch your soul with ink and quill,
in hopes that you may someday heal,
and never for a...
That burns to fill,
your heart's desire.
With words to raise
a smoldering lust.
I break down walls
and build up trust.
I seek to touch what lies inside,
where all the fear and darkness hide.
If only you would let me in,
to share my rhyme, and show my sin.
Allow my words to penetrate,
as pen and paper masturbate.
Ejaculating hopes and dreams,
to burst emotion at the seams.
I touch your soul with ink and quill,
in hopes that you may someday heal,
and never for a...
#lust
#TruthOfLife
#WritingPoetry
18 reads
2 Comments
buddhakitty
Poem Published
Today 1:20am
Today 1:20am
waiting for it
the years are
a gun barrel
pointed at
my head
the hours
are a bullet
everyday is
Russian
Roulette
sooner or
later...
sooner
or
later
(c) 2018 R.R. Zinn
a gun barrel
pointed at
my head
the hours
are a bullet
everyday is
Russian
Roulette
sooner or
later...
sooner
or
later
(c) 2018 R.R. Zinn
#SelfReflection
18 reads
2 Comments
Eerie
Poem Published
Yesterday 4:10am
Yesterday 4:10am
Serenity
I have fallen so far below the
murky water that I have given
myself to the endless depths.
The sun filters the light into the
deep, pouring its warm glow
into my wide eyes.
Maybe in my delirium I have seen
some things I should not have;
some dark and violent things.
These stones are heavy. They do
their work, like cement hardened
in my chest.
No breath will find me here and
I find a docility in this darkness;
a moment to reflect on the insanity.
In an instant the flash is bright
and I see the...
murky water that I have given
myself to the endless depths.
The sun filters the light into the
deep, pouring its warm glow
into my wide eyes.
Maybe in my delirium I have seen
some things I should not have;
some dark and violent things.
These stones are heavy. They do
their work, like cement hardened
in my chest.
No breath will find me here and
I find a docility in this darkness;
a moment to reflect on the insanity.
In an instant the flash is bright
and I see the...
#sadness
#abuse
#SelfReflection
21 reads
8 Comments
sophie_ericson
Poem Published
30th Aug 2018 4:56pm
30th Aug 2018 4:56pm
because... it's how I exhale
Let the world burn through you. Throw the prism light, white hot, on paper.”
—Ray Bradbury, WD
I was twelve
when
each breathing molecule
making up and holding together
the everything
parted
into nothings
when the street lights
were outshone by thirty-something
pairs of piercing eyes
and the dark echoed with reverberations of
incomprehensible words
where everything became
was
meaningless
I placed every bleeding drop of
hope
at the bottom of the wishing well
where...
—Ray Bradbury, WD
I was twelve
when
each breathing molecule
making up and holding together
the everything
parted
into nothings
when the street lights
were outshone by thirty-something
pairs of piercing eyes
and the dark echoed with reverberations of
incomprehensible words
where everything became
was
meaningless
I placed every bleeding drop of
hope
at the bottom of the wishing well
where...
#LifeAsAWriter
#SelfReflection
173 reads
33 Comments
Trouble_Loves_Me
Poem Published
8th Sep 2018 5:26am
8th Sep 2018 5:26am
i see sabeen through dark sunsets
In still of night
Alzheimers sleeps,
I hear every breath
Murmuring dreams
She dreamt of 1953.
So I turn away….
Drinking a vodka dance
My feet shuffled to dance of death.
Let me die this way they both said
In the coronation of their cemetery
In webs of their deceit, I got lost.
In ‘path’ of your pathetic self pity
Do not dream anymore.
Men will harbour sexual desires
On dresses you never will wear.
And Sabeen, I know you never wore underwear
On the air of Birmingham breeze
My fingers tumbled you to...
Alzheimers sleeps,
I hear every breath
Murmuring dreams
She dreamt of 1953.
So I turn away….
Drinking a vodka dance
My feet shuffled to dance of death.
Let me die this way they both said
In the coronation of their cemetery
In webs of their deceit, I got lost.
In ‘path’ of your pathetic self pity
Do not dream anymore.
Men will harbour sexual desires
On dresses you never will wear.
And Sabeen, I know you never wore underwear
On the air of Birmingham breeze
My fingers tumbled you to...
#anger
29 reads
2 Comments
RoseJasmine
Poem Published
15th Sep 2018 3:08am
15th Sep 2018 3:08am
Leakage
Many things could shock me
one of them is roof leaking
I mistook it had been over
until the night I opened the door
found a water puddle on the floor
“The ceiling is dripping,” I screamed
Watching the little stream
coming down the beam
apparently not at all a dream
It’s one of the life disasters
just can’t expect any better
It should be gone in a second
can’t wait over this weekend
The nightmare wends its way
through nights and days
and seems no way to delay
Nonstop...
one of them is roof leaking
I mistook it had been over
until the night I opened the door
found a water puddle on the floor
“The ceiling is dripping,” I screamed
Watching the little stream
coming down the beam
apparently not at all a dream
It’s one of the life disasters
just can’t expect any better
It should be gone in a second
can’t wait over this weekend
The nightmare wends its way
through nights and days
and seems no way to delay
Nonstop...
#LifeStruggles
79 reads
21 Comments
AtoMikbomb
Poem Published
16th Sep 2018 5:31am
16th Sep 2018 5:31am
Count me out of your metaphor, I'm out the door.
Moonshadow labored upon me
pruning my paths
in pale lavender - a light-like lace
tracing my naked kneecaps
Petals settle to the bottom of the bath
Being tripped on skipping blades
silver shards
grass or glass, it's of no matter
I'm ever cut up indoors or out
I'll shoot the shit
let my pseudonym take my hits
sit behind a frosted glass
Nomenclature - a nomadic nature;
a nominal
prodigal
passage
holds open my throat...
and pumps in gas
pruning my paths
in pale lavender - a light-like lace
tracing my naked kneecaps
Petals settle to the bottom of the bath
Being tripped on skipping blades
silver shards
grass or glass, it's of no matter
I'm ever cut up indoors or out
I'll shoot the shit
let my pseudonym take my hits
sit behind a frosted glass
Nomenclature - a nomadic nature;
a nominal
prodigal
passage
holds open my throat...
and pumps in gas
#anxiety
#depression
#emptiness
31 reads
5 Comments
3rdEYErising
Poem Published
Yesterday 4:49pm
Yesterday 4:49pm
OSO
Even without a poetry site
I'll forever and a day
Continue to write out my rites
And fight my demons
One night at a time
Using insight and foresight
As a tandem to right this warring ship
Cast about turbulent waters
Pledging to become the light borne within
To help guide me back to steady shores
Remembering how bright the sun
Really does shines
Exposing the blight of the soul
Where I take flight
Within the contained knowledge of this self
Tempered with a sage's wisdom
Ascending new hieghts
Running freely...
I'll forever and a day
Continue to write out my rites
And fight my demons
One night at a time
Using insight and foresight
As a tandem to right this warring ship
Cast about turbulent waters
Pledging to become the light borne within
To help guide me back to steady shores
Remembering how bright the sun
Really does shines
Exposing the blight of the soul
Where I take flight
Within the contained knowledge of this self
Tempered with a sage's wisdom
Ascending new hieghts
Running freely...
#childhood
#inspirational
#uplifting
7 reads
0 Comments
Cloven_Zonkle
Poem Published
Yesterday 1:48pm
Yesterday 1:48pm
Sine Non Qua
Let's get started. Then: the whole past. A very grueling temper.
The club has furry claws and teeth, allergies, mimics, and falsifications of fragments that are learned.
Instead of returning to the habits of defragmentation defaced,
Why not learn to express passive hypnotic
Realization, and constant inner sense, a constant sine wave
The capability and ability to give.
You have your garden and you can
always see the shine amid the exchange.
No one said that this was not a good look.
The club has furry claws and teeth, allergies, mimics, and falsifications of fragments that are learned.
Instead of returning to the habits of defragmentation defaced,
Why not learn to express passive hypnotic
Realization, and constant inner sense, a constant sine wave
The capability and ability to give.
You have your garden and you can
always see the shine amid the exchange.
No one said that this was not a good look.
#mirror
2 reads
0 Comments
ImperfectedStone
P M Banks
P M Banks
Poem Published
Yesterday 11:29pm
Yesterday 11:29pm
Stories
Her heart is swollen and sore
as lymph nodes to a victim of cancer,
rising on an Autumn morning with cracker level dehydration in the mouth
and rotting of the legs, too weak to lift or bend.
Her heart hums on the open wind
as a deaf person hearing music
through the floorboards of a pokey flat
with pans across the surface
to catch the droplets of poverty
gently seeping into their life.
In the darkest hour her heart bleeds,
as only a truly love sick teenagers arms bleed, or legs or stomach or chosen surface,
as their emotional self...
as lymph nodes to a victim of cancer,
rising on an Autumn morning with cracker level dehydration in the mouth
and rotting of the legs, too weak to lift or bend.
Her heart hums on the open wind
as a deaf person hearing music
through the floorboards of a pokey flat
with pans across the surface
to catch the droplets of poverty
gently seeping into their life.
In the darkest hour her heart bleeds,
as only a truly love sick teenagers arms bleed, or legs or stomach or chosen surface,
as their emotional self...
#emotional
12 reads
1 Comment
DU Poetry : Personal Poems by Top Critiquers. Poetry about Self Reflection and Self Awareness.
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