I usually don't like poetry because people who write it sounds stupid to me sometimes. Saying **** like "the wind was just an echo from my soul" that kinda poetry ****** me off...
I know this might seem obvious already, but I love poetry. It's one of the few forms of writing that I enjoy writing over reading. I used to do it as a kid, write out little rhymes...
"Most people ignore poetry because most poetry ignores people"
Poetry - Pablo Neruda
And it was at that age ... Poetry arrived
in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don't know how or when...
Ill make one up right now...:
With our words of wisdom they still continue to ignore
Our sacrifices and mistakes they seem to forget and abhor
Our lost comrades, our family and...
I've discovered Yusef Komunyakaa as a result of an assignment for my American Poetry class. Really digging his work! Wanted to share one of his poems...
My Father's Love Letters...
I never used to like poetry but when my mentor sat me down about how I can experience new things to find my true talent, I gave in. So I stumbled across the first poem I ever wrote...
Smile at the crying day
Look at the sky and remember her.
Your past will remain in this little town,
So go off and brighten tomorrow.
Hold his hands and never let go
I actually like ancient Chinese poetry a lot!!!
Here's one of my favorite, the translation is okay, or I should say, pretty good...?
Immortals on the Magpie Bridge1...
The two of us in a pod, you could say were peas I would say we are peanuts, even though we are far, we are close and nothing can come between us. This was my attempt at poetry...
I love poetry ways to get my message across and be creative
Shout out to my cheesy poetry
I think of you nearly every night
I picture our hands intertwined
And you lips meeting mine
I picture of the places we'll go
by A. Leek
I decided that it's about time to just focus on me. To love myself unconditionally. I've not only neglected but I have been so abusive to myself. I have put...
I know my poetry is lame 🙈but whatever
Dear father, dad, daddy, the big cheese, Michael, pop, traitor, daddy-yo, Old man, pappy, male equivalent of my mother
I remember when...
I use to get so depressed when I was younger that I gave up on drawing and took on writing poetry.....I've gone cold turkey since last year -__- trying to find a way to start back...
I'm usually pretty good at poetry, but I haven't written in years and I kinda lost my touch.
We have to write a poem in English, though, and I've been stuck these past few days. I...
To me, writing poetry is a way of creating beauty from all that is dark in this world.
Lately, I've fallen in love with the form known as haiku. I've not written poetry in over 20 years, but sometimes I want to start again. So, here goes.
I found her at dawn.
my poetry emerges not from purity
but from touching the imperfections
I fell in love with this man the day I stumbled across this video poem: http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x15ihua_apfvl_music
This guy loves Poetry so much, he had his last name...
I don't claim to be a poet, though I sometimes write poetry, albeit poorly. I write what happens to be in, or pouring from, my heart and soul. This is for, to, and about, my best...
Reflecting on Summer
i'm sitting among the tangled roots of an old mountain pine….its trunk serves me well as a backrest as i look out over the cliff watching a mountain stream...
Do you write poetry? Me too! let's share and discuss!
Still I've reached no answer,
For the same old question.
Will I ever be satisfied,
With anything less than perfection?
Can I jump the hurdles,
Of life's imperfect flow?
Alone with the darkness
I like it this way
It’s cold and it’s damp
And filled with decay
My friends in the crypt
Invite me to stay
“ rest you bones over here
A ghost in the shadow of dawn
The space between the darkness and light
Consciousness descending to take corporeal form.
A stranger looking back from a distorted reflection.
Robert Frost (1874–1963). Mountain Interval. 1920.
1. The Road Not Taken
TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler...
I feel so broken
Alone and forgetten
Why doesn't anybody want me
They just see right through me
Trying so hard to hide
But i cant keep the pain inside
Its eating away at me
It's no longer strange when the thought of taking my blade everywhere I go occurs.
It's strange when the scars on my wrist slowly fade but it's normal for me when they are replaced...