Learn more about other poetry terms
Can I hear one? A real one for just once. A poem about our children, and why they need healing from their parents decisions.
Suggestive of a Song What one has loved with youthful infatuation, what one has admired with childlike captivation;
There's something different about todayMaybe I'm the only onewho'll notice itbut it's better than nothing
Rolling up, almost past the barrier. Stop! Brakes Squeal and cars jerk in place. Stop! My heart beat is still in a race! Stop!
I stand on the edge of a cliff the roar of the waves beneath me and stare into the night sky it is raining now I scream into the void all of the pain of the past I give it up to the ocean and sky
I noticed you, Walk with her this morning, Hand in hand She’s very pretty, Match your own beauty Who is she? Is she the last person you think, Before you go to sleep?
A comfort zone prevents transition No alteration being made to an ambition Locked up in a desolated cell While months turn into years
Only when a lion is poked and prodded does it turn and roar. Only when a whisper is spat on and silenced does it turn into a scream. Only when a life is faced with death does it become meaningful.
Goodnight, goodnight to you. Have the moon weave you a blue wool blanket,
Remember when you broke your right hip? It came as a shock to me. There you were, the picture of health, And only eighty three. Of course, you were most disgruntled.
I want to say thank you For showing me how to love, But more importantly How to give Without an ulterior. I want to say thank you
She had everything. Never having to to think because her actions were bought. but the only thing she ever wanted, was the thing she never got. How she begged and fought,
1…2…3… 1…2…3… Will you sing for me Sing me a song where The lyrics hold me tight Will you write for me Write me a poem that Makes fun of my dreams 1…2…3…
It follows us, mockingly Ever remembering Persistent, a most ruinous companion It’s funny, isn’t it? Our past And this little game we play
I feel drops of water on my thigh Is it raining? No I could hear it hitting down hard Sobbing, heaving, choking Is it raining? No The sounds are coming from me Balled up on my bed
Picked thin from all the wait, all the hands that Got gnarled before they could reach out— Or, even worse, hurt somebody. And Sydney’s wearing a dress with yellow flowers.
I am a Photograph I am the slip of paper on the top shelf, The blotch of color in between slabs of plastic, The secret behind glass. I am the beginning, and I am the end of every tale.
Still in the field. Bouncing up and down. Looking back to the left and right. Darn! Twine broke again, get the gear.
And I am afraid of circles
Dear Beautiful, How can I say that I lived enough if I didn't know who you was You entered my life like a tour bus So I chased you and this time it'll be the two of us This is a new year and a new me
She always said the leaves were t u r
Join this, apply for that make a decision but don't look back. Be remembered, do your best make all A's and beat the rest. If you fail, you'll be stressed wearing a sence of defeat, you'll be dressed.
His hands: always soft and gentle as if he’s unsure if what they’re doing is okayHis hands: the way mine are drawn to them like a magnetHis eyes: deep and filled with emotions I s
consider falling and how little it is considered once it has begun; consider the notion of spiraling downwards without the fear of being young; consider our hearts,
Why do we fear thunder? Thunder can’t hurt you It’s just a sound. Why do we fear gunshots? Gunshots can’t hurt you They’re just a sound. Why do we fear screaming?
Blindfolded, we enter the world. Eighteen years with only the wisdom of our parents On our back, Lacking that which education had promised. Has promised. On our future coffee tables lie
What happened to us? It used to be all about waving, gallantly streaming, nice, shiny patriotic ideals, but now it's all about grabbing. We grab fame, power, people, countries.
A walk through Washington D.C. would be incomplete Without a stop at a trickling fountain - The object of a thousand dreams And pennies flicked up high, Like the work of our forefathers
I was a latent volcano with lust to erupt only I didn’t know it, the sides of my mouth curling upwards in grotesque clown grins
Me that / powerful noun we / use to express the one person Me / the one person who will listen to / Me that / lovely word we / see as our escape to be free Me / the kid who can see / what i need to be /
I’m Without, Won’t You Help Me Succeed, I Have No Time, But A Place To Be, As Sure As My Duty, I’ve Forgotten My Key,
Poetry was Othera phenomenon,I went to uncoverthis peculiar lexicon
My confidence swells as I realize, I am better than ever to those amber, brown eyes. They widen as I draw near, Everything but inferior, In her presence I feel
Tell me, brother, what do I do with a broken soul? Tell me, sister, why is sadness all I know? Tell me, father, why do I feel so alone? Tell me, mother, how do I make a frail heart whole?
I don't like your parties I don't like your alcohol But I guess I'd rather be here than not at all. I don't like her I don't like the way she stares Cause I don't think I can compare.
The page screams out A faintly blinking blank screen in front Of the pale face of the writer. She stares with list Disappointment at her failure to subsist on the great words of those
Be told you are smart, Be told you are strong, Be told you will be loved, Be told that you will live forever, and watch the lies drip down, into the sink, into the drain, and smile,
Ordinary. Is what we are without all the excess Is what the world looks like day to day
I groan as anguish rips through me, Starting in my feet, A dull ache felt deep
I have a lifetime ahead of me But all I can think about Are those few hours I spent with you Closer than ever wrapped up, lost in sheets together I have a lifetime ahead of me
I don't ask for much, I don't expect much either, Not from you anyway, All I really want Need From you is Your acceptance. Am I asking too much? Because you're making it Seem so.
I wish I knew the exact moment, So I could mark it in my calendar, And count down the days, On both hands and feet. See I've been doing my best, But I'm running out of appendages,
I am a body.
Fifteen ways to die
The burger looks scrumptious and you want to buy that hat
Shouts from every direction He stands there repeating Repetition Repetition Quit he say But do they LISTION What is control What is this room really for
She had a Janere cat with fat and iggly paws and every time he spoke, he flashed his great white jaws.
When I was your age, The sky was purple The geese were green and flew home for winter. When I was your age, The sun set blue and rose from the watery deep and vibrant maroon. When I was your age,
Theology twisted, robbing the poor Sick religions have the saints misunderstood U.S. economy in it for self Rich stiff necked scholars still seeking knowledge But graduated from a top Ivy League college
A girl walks the perfect road Sun shining bright like always Day after day Sadness does not exist For she knows not what it is She continues to walk this perfect road
Do you think the politics matter? Do you think that whoever takes the big chair will determine if your family is fed tomorrow?