Category: poet

The Light of Life, Poetry by Barbara Hunt

A world filled with danger and darkness demolishing everything in its path
Happiness fleeting as time marches on destroying memories like common trash
People grow and open their eyes and see nothing but a black abyss of loneliness
A small globe of light can be seen if you look as innocent laughter fills every crack and nook
Never give up hope and open your mind for the light still shines brightly when you look in there eyes
A tidbit of evil is soon placed as they open there heart and there suffering soon behind to start
Never forget the balance of life as the forces of nature are neutral we decide our path and choose the side we believe shall suffice and hopefully we will all choose the same conclusion the path that is the glowing light

 
Genre: life, love, darkness, family, Hope, and fear

 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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Social media, Poetry by Dasha Jennings

although it has enrich our lives with the vivid imagery

of current events taking place around us.

it’s destroying our sense of humanity at the same time.

We are so focused on who has the most likes,

that we are losing our connection to other human beings around us.

The more likes, hearts, and views we get the more addicted

we become to these sites.

It feeds your addiction for a while,

until you realize that nobody knows of your

existence nor cares,

they just know who this person is before them on this platform.

Social media is this platform where we tear each other apart,

not bring them together.

If you do not fit into the criteria,

then you are not one to show your existence on this site.

For if you do then they will tear you apart

by making the latest memes and sharing them worldwide.

Social media you’re turning everyone against each other.

For you sweet an innocent features are the reason for mass suicide

and countless families suffering worldwide.

Gemre: society and dark
 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
http://www.wildsound.ca/poetrycontest.html

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Guilty Feast, Poetry by Anthony S

  “Guilty Feast”

Hollow sin-Eater searching empty roads
A barefoot traveler with bleeding soles
This hateful living for the sake of death
Your guilty feast taken and laid to rest

– Anthony (famous.after.im.dead)

 

Genre: Dark
 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
http://www.wildsound.ca/poetrycontest.html

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The Basket of Deplorables, Poetry by Bill Murray

sanityforall.jpg

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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Thanksgiving, Poetry by Karen A. Valencia

 

I count the grapevines on the tablecloth,
Twenty-six twine on my side by the broth.
I count the bubbles in the champagne glass
And dread the moment Mom starts to give thanks.
We hold hands to form a shatterproof chain,
I spot the rusty link but I restrain
Myself. I am thankful, I am. Yeah sure.
Dear brother, you’re home, you have found a cure.
Oh, they all stood to kiss you! They don’t smell
The stench of penitentiary, the hell
That you dragged in with the crushed autumn leaves.
A “brand new man” yet I do not believe.
But let’s go around! Why not, let’s have more
Empty chatter. Go on, tell Dad to pour
Us the dessert wine. We can spin like this,
Ignoring the taste of ash and grit.
I smile and nod, try not to bear my teeth.
Our vacuumed rugs hide the dirt underneath.
There’s still some laughter when I rearrange
The pie crumbs into star maps. We exchange
A polite “bless you” when we share a sneeze
But I won’t stretch to look above my knees.
Back then, I swear I thought you to be brave,
We’d tip toe in the dark to stay up late.
But now, a fallen statue cracked by sin,
I finally see your tattooed, human skin.
I cringe with shame as family leaves the room.
A twisted guilt somehow ensnares me too.
Just like these grapevines connecting like dots,
Every year we’ll tangle til’ we rot.
 
Genre: Life, Society
 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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Sins of Life, Poetry by Ashly Kuether

 Rain falling heavy, on mud covered soldiers.
Cold and shivering, cries of thunder.
Forevermore, these lifelong battles.
Men heard screaming and shouting “Take cover!”

Weapons clanking and clangourous by their sides.
Deafening cracks, moonstone-yellow light.
Hissing and Zipping, missiles in the sky.
Wind slashed their faces, as they put up a fight.

Blood covered soil, deathly divide.
Heaven forbid, what’s become of these lives.

 
Genre: Life, Society
 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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Stars, Poetry by NKB

 

People often compared stars with,
Love.
They collide and destroy, Merciless
They burn out for life. Selfless
But, stars always were about balance.
I started creating my universe,
When I think of stars, all my mind can show,
Is an embedded verse.
A verse that always had been a curse,
To the fool, to the strong.
Not to the weak, no.
The one that isn’t delusional of vulnerability,
The verse.
|When you look up to the stars,
You see hope. Light.
Yellow color in the night,
Wasn’t of the stars.
It was you, your soul. Your scars.
Your hope. Pain of your sane.
You’re yellow paint…
But it’s fact that the stars are dead.
Not even paint can take the pain away. Not even the end.
It’s delusional.
That’s love.|
The thought that was forced on me,
But oh my mind, don’t you think
Love is something blue, not yellow.
I never understood your ways,oh friend.
This isn’t love.
It’s the size,
Size of the delusion you carry,
To make your own feet weary.
This ain’t love,
Stars are just delusional
Masks of hope.
We put on our face, bright eyes, with glitters and grace.
Symbol of balance.
It’s not shiny sparkling twinkles that crawls up my skin,
And give me nightmares, as sweet as a dream.
As real as reality.
My vulnerability.
It’s the thing I see the most,
That reminds me what love isn’t,
For a timeless soul, I’m just a broken host.
That beautiful things cannot be touched.
Broken things that don’t shine, cannot be compared to love,
Unless the delusion paints it in lighter shade, so he won’t fade.
Then they are loved the most,
For shining the lights of yellow seeping through your scars.
Darkest parts are hidden blue.
The starry night, when you see the end.
That hope stays far away and dead.
It’s not my yellow paint, it’s red

-NKB

 
Genre: Death, sad, philosophical
 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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The Red Thread, Poetry by jodyboots

 Inspirational poem by jodyboots:

The Red Thread

Every day we live and try our best to be magnificent as we push on,

Some will concede to the evil dark beast, reasoning they are merely pawns.

Those that have accepted hatred are doomed,

Retiring into eternity clawing at their souls to validate needing gloom.

Not understanding heaven’s bright drawings,

The Soul’s source of salvation for all.

Bright stars light up the darkened night skies,

Forming elusive messages like waterfalls.

When deciphered become all our souls’ norm.

As time passes by and memories fade,

We will always be one thru the Red Thread.

 

 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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The Denial of an Ageing Disgrace, Poetry by Matthew Nicholson

 Where’s the fucking rizla’s man
I just need a fucking smoke
to take the edge off
starting with just one almighty toke.
This week’s been shit
I have to say, today’s been much the same
let’s smoke ’til I can’t see her face
and can’t recall their names.

She said that I’m an addict.
Yeah, what does she fucking know
a few pills every weekend
and a little bit of blow.
A spliff for breakfast every day
to help me on my feet
and a couple more at bedtime,
but that’s just to help me sleep.

Beers with the lads at dinner time
before it’s back to work
and a swift one after clocking off.
It’s an early finish perk.

I love my life! There’s nothing wrong!
I’ll never change a thing!
There isn’t a drinking game exists
that I can’t fucking win!

How could she ever understand
or find ways to forgive?
She must think I’m some
useless selfish bastard fucking div!

There are thing I tried to tell her,
but how could I ever say –
I think of ways to end my life
about fifteen times a day.

She never lets me see the kids
it breaks my fucking heart!
She says I’m unpredictable,
but she knew that from the start.

School, foster homes and prison
none of it did me no good
I was born and dragged up fighting.
Surviving any way I could!

I’ve been this way from being fourteen
life will never be no different.
Pissed and stoned forever
from a forty plus delinquent.

Genre:
Addiction, Family, Rhyme, Dark, Dark, Honest, Life, Angry, Emotional, Character poem

Matthew Nicholson
@nicholsonpoet

 

 

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Deadline: FREE POETRY Festival – Get your poem made into a MOVIE and seen by 1000s. Three options to submit:
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