Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.

Editing - rough draft

Gouging

Slicing at veins
Oozing life,
Distress.

Gouging emotion
Frenzied , insane
Pulping flesh

Rip eyes from the sockets
Scratch out the name
Unbearable to remain

A band of steel
Ratcheted around the heart muscle
Crushing existence

Raw, infinite power
Dicing into throw away chunks
Tearing biting stripping resolve

STOLEN SIXPENCE

Boys played a game in school
Stealing of pens no matter how
They called it, ‘tapping’ by name
Our fathers worked in far away land
Sending money for our books and fees
Some relished in squandering spree

I went home from school without a pen
Wondered what to use next day
I stepped into the room of Akpan Nya
The man of the house in father’s absence
On his table was a world receiver
And coins scattered in front of it

AND I WONDER-updated

AND I WONDER
I regret the days I left behind
And the years lost on foolish things.
I’m sorry for the angry words
Turning smiles to tears
And my heart sinks in memory
When it’s only ghosts I see

I sorrow for the tomorrows that would be mine.
And I worry what will become of me
As I decline.
I wonder where they all have gone
And I do suffer to be the last one….

Moon Dance

moon dance

dark heavens
hold soft petite
intermittant clouds
moving slowly
on gentle breezes
float leisurely aside
revealing
the silver white
of a copious orb
low in the sky
seemingly
almost within
loving reach
I want to claim it
as my own
as I waltz
to the tune
the moon has inspired
within my soul

Your Admiration

Your Admiration

Is only because
your brain is so wired,
Despite your ailment
You are bright
While others not ill,
Are so much without
Depth, love and insight

Coz our brains are integrated
And
Cast at birth
While in the womb
And
The mom knows not
what she is thinking,
Of the loveliest new arrival
or the tomb

And

Coming Home to Roost on Wallstreet

There are beggars in fields of wild red roses,
savage rooms grow in brick and stone, in driftwood
and the busy street,
I can not point a finger of indictment to the untouchables
in your head.

If no one bears responsibility like a forlorn tusk into the arena of brave politics
who will be left behind?
What would it take to set free the lepers?
Heave the stone from your shoulder and retell the story you tell yourself,
turning away from....
your tears washing four corners
and counting crows.

Savage

Would you notice if I disappeared?
To you I’m an infinitesimal dot
On the page, but hidden from sight

 

Did you ever really see me there?
Did your brain ever really compute
And work out if I had a name

I know I exist that’s the twist

I’m still here
Yet pain slashes and plunges deep

Burning

The wound engulfs my brain
You don’t need me

You don’t want me

That’s clear and plain
 

Lennon probably...

Lennon Probably…

I offered direction but no one followed,
wrote a truth pill but no one swallowed.
It felt as though your heads had been hollowed
Screaming family’s with coffins, hearts sorrowed

If I were here today,
I’d probably end up crying

Get off your knees there’s no time to pray
we got to keep asking why us, why still today?

To Where Do You Flee?

I thought it wise to bury her
Where no one else could find.
To hide her body in a place
That each of us once knew,
But to which none of us could
Ever, quite return.

I thought it wise to hide the memories,
The good, the bad and even the violent.
To quench all passions,
To dry our tears and move on.
Never to turn back.

I thought it wise to let her go
Back to the shadows of your thoughts,
And of mine.

Her last words were addressed to me:
"Time, to where do you flee?"

Opening Doors

A lesser man couldn't have written your poetry,
and a lesser woman would have found herself
in someone else's poems;
but today is unlike other days
and words are not scrambled, inarticulate and senseless
lying with an immaculate muse,
you just have to fuck her
long enough to make her worship you
to guide your hand along the pathways
to her soul,

do not let her out of your sight, do not weep
if she seems reticent to entice you to her bed,
do not go to sleep
with words you keep.

Pages

Subscribe to RSS - Editing - rough draft
(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.