Donate coins to sanmehta.
Juice
Cancel
Written by sanmehta in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Let's prove that the camera lies.

Put down the phone, the selfie stick too.

Take a wipe, clean it off

Remove all that makeup till it's nomore

And look into a mirror

This is who you are.

This is beauty.

Please don't hide.

19
4
3
Juice
31 reads
Donate coins to sanmehta.
Juice
Cancel
Written by sanmehta in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Let's prove that the camera lies.
Put down the phone, the selfie stick too.
Take a wipe, clean it off
Remove all that makeup till it's nomore
And look into a mirror
This is who you are.
This is beauty.
Please don't hide.

19
4
3
Juice
31 reads
Load 3 Comments
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to poetsdream.
Juice
Cancel
Written by poetsdream in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Under The Moon

Under the moon

You shine

Under my kiss

You glow

Deep inside my hug

You are secure

K.j.a. (c) 2017

7
1
0
Juice
11 reads
Donate coins to poetsdream.
Juice
Cancel
Written by poetsdream in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Under The Moon
Under the moon
You shine
Under my kiss
You glow
Deep inside my hug
You are secure
K.j.a. (c) 2017
7
1
0
Juice
11 reads
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to sanmehta.
Juice
Cancel
Written by sanmehta in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Let me breathe

I am just a child

Let me breathe

I cannot see my world

Let me breathe

Is college all that matters

Let me breathe

I'm sorry that wasn't an A

Let me breathe

Why am I so stupid

Let me breathe

I need just as much air as you

9
3
1
Juice
16 reads
Donate coins to sanmehta.
Juice
Cancel
Written by sanmehta in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Let me breathe
I am just a child
Let me breathe
I cannot see my world
Let me breathe
Is college all that matters
Let me breathe
I'm sorry that wasn't an A
Let me breathe
Why am I so stupid
Let me breathe
I need just as much air as you
9
3
1
Juice
16 reads
Load 1 Comment
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to sandflea68.
Juice
Cancel
Write a poem with the beginning line....I sat down by the river Styx.
Written by sandflea68 in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Dead Souls

I sat down by the River Styx

grappled with pain

of stinging blackness

       Dead souls across the river

ride of life and death

elevator of existence

cascading to bottomless pit

       Dead souls across the river

ferryman looks straight ahead

sensing endless journey

from one world to next

       Dead souls across the river

coffins split wide open

tormented souls flailing

a solo glacial passage

       Dead souls across the river

hitchhikers step to onyx side

tasting speed in which they sail

cold breeze in knotted sky

       Dead souls across the river

birds of prey spear entrails

frozen pallor of death

seething water of man’s curse.

       Dead souls across the river

warning cries of timid ancestors

proclaim icy slinging of mud

pale white horse of death

       Dead souls across the river

22
11
13
Juice
41 reads
Donate coins to sandflea68.
Juice
Cancel
Write a poem with the beginning line....I sat down by the river Styx.
Written by sandflea68 in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Dead Souls
I sat down by the River Styx
grappled with pain
of stinging blackness
       Dead souls across the river
ride of life and death
elevator of existence
cascading to bottomless pit
       Dead souls across the river
ferryman looks straight ahead
sensing endless journey
from one world to next
       Dead souls across the river
coffins split wide open
tormented souls flailing
a solo glacial passage
       Dead souls across the river
hitchhikers step to onyx side
tasting speed in which they sail
cold breeze in knotted sky
       Dead souls across the river
birds of prey spear entrails
frozen pallor of death
seething water of man’s curse.
       Dead souls across the river
warning cries of timid ancestors
proclaim icy slinging of mud
pale white horse of death
       Dead souls across the river


#challenge  #riverStyx 
22
11
13
Juice
41 reads
Load 13 Comments
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to Shells.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Shells in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Warm Comfort of a False Embrace

She was easy on the eyes, naked and stretched comfortably across her bed.  Her dark hair,  wet and giving way to its natural waves,  hung loosely around her shoulders and onto the white cotton sheets.  

 I trace her spine with my finger tips and lean closer to kiss the nape of her neck.  

 I could stay in this moment, I think.  In love with the idea of being in love.  Here with her skin against mine and her lips on my flesh.  In the warm comfort of a false embrace.  

 

9
2
4
Juice
22 reads
Donate coins to Shells.
Juice
Cancel
Written by Shells in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Warm Comfort of a False Embrace
She was easy on the eyes, naked and stretched comfortably across her bed.  Her dark hair,  wet and giving way to its natural waves,  hung loosely around her shoulders and onto the white cotton sheets.  
 I trace her spine with my finger tips and lean closer to kiss the nape of her neck.  
 I could stay in this moment, I think.  In love with the idea of being in love.  Here with her skin against mine and her lips on my flesh.  In the warm comfort of a false embrace.  
 
#nonfiction  #romance  #lovesabitch 
9
2
4
Juice
22 reads
Load 4 Comments
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to SMM.
Juice
Cancel
Written by SMM in portal Poetry & Free Verse

You found me on the moon,

And lost me in the stars,

.

.

.

.

But I am still holding in tight.

6
3
1
Juice
17 reads
Donate coins to SMM.
Juice
Cancel
Written by SMM in portal Poetry & Free Verse
You found me on the moon,
And lost me in the stars,
.
.
.
.
But I am still holding in tight.
6
3
1
Juice
17 reads
Load 1 Comment
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to leelee.
Juice
Cancel
Written by leelee in portal Poetry & Free Verse

All Things Shite And Dutiful

I won't sing for you Lord

It doesn't seem to strike a chord

And it was the organist that snored

He seems equally as bored

I won't own up to knowing the tune

Won't learn the words anytime soon

My religion barks at the moon

Writes songs to make a preacher swoon

I won't swear to you mate

Rather at you, and man's fate

I may be a black horned reprobate

But I'll be warm when I am late

Who writes the stuff you'd have us bear?

Can't be you; as if you'd care

Your son, maybe; beyond repair

See that cross? You put him there

I won't croon, won't even mime

Keep my mouth shut, pass the time

Wondering if it's such the crime

To poke a pair at your paradigm

Well then, Lord, that's all she wrote

Apologies for the odd duff note

This sermon's spent; I'll get my coat

With harmony's halo around my throat...

7
1
1
Juice
13 reads
Donate coins to leelee.
Juice
Cancel
Written by leelee in portal Poetry & Free Verse
All Things Shite And Dutiful
I won't sing for you Lord
It doesn't seem to strike a chord
And it was the organist that snored
He seems equally as bored

I won't own up to knowing the tune
Won't learn the words anytime soon
My religion barks at the moon
Writes songs to make a preacher swoon

I won't swear to you mate
Rather at you, and man's fate
I may be a black horned reprobate
But I'll be warm when I am late

Who writes the stuff you'd have us bear?
Can't be you; as if you'd care
Your son, maybe; beyond repair
See that cross? You put him there

I won't croon, won't even mime
Keep my mouth shut, pass the time
Wondering if it's such the crime
To poke a pair at your paradigm

Well then, Lord, that's all she wrote
Apologies for the odd duff note
This sermon's spent; I'll get my coat
With harmony's halo around my throat...
#poetry  #skewedviews 
7
1
1
Juice
13 reads
Load 1 Comment
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to emilyjiang.
Juice
Cancel
Written by emilyjiang in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Canvas

This work may contain sensitive and/or controversial material, but the content does not reflect the writer’s political interests, viewpoints, or beliefs in any way.

My canvas used to be coarse off-white parchment

     upon which my pencil flourished sketches of churches and courtyards

     and my watercolor brush traced damp bristles over the rutted texture,

     each muted hue bleeding into the next.

Buildings were always my specialty, but now

My canvas is the land.

Chants of Deutschland, Deutschland march to the rhythm of

     fluttering paper posters, torn ends trailing,

     wind rippling them against the walls imbued with grime.

This is what my paintings have become.

The buildings scream of horror and filth;

     fractured glass shards jut from every shattered windowpane.

     Behind the defaced doors,

     dingy yellow lights flicker feebly in the lifeless shops.

I watch as a man writhes on the ground,

His backside torched, blackened

     like intense charcoal shading.

I used to draw them naked.

I thought nobody captured every taut tendon

     quite like I did-

Perhaps I know tension better than all.

The man’s limbs twitch: oh, how I could name

     every quivering muscle and bone beneath that shriveled skin.

Faced with this wasted landscape,

     I forge the masterpiece in my mind.

Bodies litter the streets like limp sacks of grain,

     pushed up against curbs, against buildings, against

     each other. My artist’s mind protests at their disfigured anatomies.

Crimson acrylics smear the pavement in broad brushstrokes:

     Like Monet. But better. But natural.

I think to myself,

     Anybody can make scratches on paper.

     But no one;

          no one,

          can make real art

          better than I can.

and he watches from his Führer throne

as blotches of scarlet watercolors splatter

across the shredded canvas.

5
0
0
Juice
7 reads
Donate coins to emilyjiang.
Juice
Cancel
Written by emilyjiang in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Canvas
This work may contain sensitive and/or controversial material, but the content does not reflect the writer’s political interests, viewpoints, or beliefs in any way.

My canvas used to be coarse off-white parchment
     upon which my pencil flourished sketches of churches and courtyards
     and my watercolor brush traced damp bristles over the rutted texture,
     each muted hue bleeding into the next.
Buildings were always my specialty, but now
My canvas is the land.
Chants of Deutschland, Deutschland march to the rhythm of
     fluttering paper posters, torn ends trailing,
     wind rippling them against the walls imbued with grime.
This is what my paintings have become.
The buildings scream of horror and filth;
     fractured glass shards jut from every shattered windowpane.
     Behind the defaced doors,
     dingy yellow lights flicker feebly in the lifeless shops.
I watch as a man writhes on the ground,
His backside torched, blackened
     like intense charcoal shading.
I used to draw them naked.
I thought nobody captured every taut tendon
     quite like I did-
Perhaps I know tension better than all.
The man’s limbs twitch: oh, how I could name
     every quivering muscle and bone beneath that shriveled skin.
Faced with this wasted landscape,
     I forge the masterpiece in my mind.
Bodies litter the streets like limp sacks of grain,
     pushed up against curbs, against buildings, against
     each other. My artist’s mind protests at their disfigured anatomies.
Crimson acrylics smear the pavement in broad brushstrokes:
     Like Monet. But better. But natural.
I think to myself,
     Anybody can make scratches on paper.
     But no one;
          no one,
          can make real art
          better than I can.

and he watches from his Führer throne
as blotches of scarlet watercolors splatter
across the shredded canvas.

#poetry  #politics  #culture  #war  #art 
5
0
0
Juice
7 reads
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to Vyxyn.
Juice
Cancel
Write a poem with the beginning line....I sat down by the river Styx.
Written by Vyxyn in portal Poetry & Free Verse

The boss sends his regards

I sat down by the river Styx as I have done before,

I chanced to see the ferryman as in years of yore.

You see I brought with me some souls in need of passage.

The Ferryman says he "What payment have ye for them and all their baggage?"

I have obol a plenty to pay their way now don't look long any do not tarry

For there are many souls and much to carry.

I have a message to give ye,

"The boss sends his regards and remember how it should be!"

2
0
3
Juice
8 reads
Donate coins to Vyxyn.
Juice
Cancel
Write a poem with the beginning line....I sat down by the river Styx.
Written by Vyxyn in portal Poetry & Free Verse
The boss sends his regards
I sat down by the river Styx as I have done before,
I chanced to see the ferryman as in years of yore.
You see I brought with me some souls in need of passage.
The Ferryman says he "What payment have ye for them and all their baggage?"
I have obol a plenty to pay their way now don't look long any do not tarry
For there are many souls and much to carry.
I have a message to give ye,
"The boss sends his regards and remember how it should be!"
2
0
3
Juice
8 reads
Load 3 Comments
Login to post comments.
Donate coins to cajen.
Juice
Cancel
Written by cajen in portal Poetry & Free Verse

do you believe everything you read?

I read an article about eating out of cans

causing organs to swell, infectious and bursting

(this is what I imagine cancer looks like).

I worry about all the metal I have consumed

those nights with only two dollars: one can of corn, one of beans

each $0.89 and I can’t stop

feeling

(what I’m sure I am imagining)

is pain in the lining of my insides, a swelling, infection, soon bursting.

Even though an article said so,

I still buy myself dinner. encapsulated in tin.

cans roll from other baskets

(and I imagine)

we are all swelling to get home before bursting with hunger. 

2
1
0
Juice
5 reads
Donate coins to cajen.
Juice
Cancel
Written by cajen in portal Poetry & Free Verse
do you believe everything you read?
I read an article about eating out of cans
causing organs to swell, infectious and bursting
(this is what I imagine cancer looks like).

I worry about all the metal I have consumed
those nights with only two dollars: one can of corn, one of beans
each $0.89 and I can’t stop
feeling
(what I’m sure I am imagining)
is pain in the lining of my insides, a swelling, infection, soon bursting.

Even though an article said so,
I still buy myself dinner. encapsulated in tin.
cans roll from other baskets
(and I imagine)
we are all swelling to get home before bursting with hunger. 
2
1
0
Juice
5 reads
Login to post comments.