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.

The stream (all workshops)

This is the stream - you can see all poems on Neopoet, live, as they are created.

 

For Three People

Submitted by emogothgirl on Tue, 2012-01-03 16:31

We've all had these moments.

when from somewhere deep inside you
it hurts like hell to breathe
and you're broken from the inside out,
with hurt in your blood
and in the marrow of your shaking bones.

when your fingertips sting from guitar,
your hands are bent from piano
and ache from the pen you gripped so tightly
just a few seconds before.

today

Submitted by Orphani on Tue, 2012-01-03 13:29

I hope it's not today when the angels come home
where would these faces hide among the streets bent truth
no walk away monuments are waiting for us to stare
and where was I when you sang the rivers red
in the morning and evenings when I dropped the brightest star

Covered by Flags

Submitted by Roscoe Lane on Tue, 2012-01-03 12:48

Covered by Flags…

Don’t wave your flag in my face,
this vile rag a symbol of our creed.
Remove first the oil stains of disgrace,
causing these young soldiers to bleed.

They lie dead, silent under a coloured cloth,
bringing forth dignity from within a lie.
Material gains hidden by frequent wash,
why do the architects of war never die.

We drape our lions within lamb’s wool,
lay them in temples of highest hypocrisy.
Where we worship an unseen alien like fool,
damning all peaceful thoughts as heresy.

Counterspin the Clock

Submitted by docmaverick on Tue, 2012-01-03 09:43

Vile, but soo courageous,
counter-spin the clock;

your gaze cannot put him to, view
he's underneath a rock;

cursed, days I've known him,
counter-spin the clock.

~

Kleptic, pipe-line ambush
counter-spin the clock;

all was empty, save the shadow tree
he isn't worth the chalk;

cursed, days I've known him
counter-spin the clock.

~

Dormant congeries that diddle
counter-spin the clock;

we'll fade, into shades of grey
then, he has no room to talk.

Workshop: 
Shark Pool (initial workshop)

UNEMPLOYMENT LINE

Submitted by scribbler on Tue, 2012-01-03 09:19

I'm the best loom fixer ever
I knew them inside out
but now I'm unemployed because
they say I made too much

I have been to outer space
always on a U.S. craft
now to my shame and deep disgrace
I last hitched a ride out there

I'm a computer programmer
whose job is now gone overseas
where it's hard to understant the grammer
if you must call for help

Death Eternal

Submitted by Bloodstone on Tue, 2012-01-03 09:14

As life itself, with acces through all gates,
So too, there is no rhyme for our dark friend.
Death rose as an equal, eternally.
Forboding belligerence over all.

On roads where feet are tread to bone,
(The mar of waste-lands trudged alone),
We'd rather never have to meet,
Death, that bastard, warring woe,
So callous in his ways;
With whom all finds defeat.

Dazed and Confined

Submitted by docmaverick on Tue, 2012-01-03 00:56

'Twas twilight on an odd day, winter
with the shadows playing tricks with my head,

and to my dismay,
I'd had it, that day
I can't believe what those idiots said!

It was cool so, I pulled on my "hoodie"
with a logo of a team I'm not for,

no matter the name,
I wore it the same
someone knocked then, 'fore I opened, my door!

I welcomed them in past my threshold
just to find out there was nobody there;

Don't Kid Me Killer...

Submitted by Geezer on Mon, 2012-01-02 20:38

Killer stomped into the office, his face was twisted mean
He slammed the fuckin' door, and then began to scream
What the fuck is going on here? I really want to know
Everyone was frozen stiff, their faces white as snow
Silence filled the room, the radio went dead
And not a peep was heard, there was nothing said

I’m not Blind

Submitted by loved on Mon, 2012-01-02 11:04

I am not blind
But colour blind,
My hearts’
Not red,
I’m told it’s white
Red hot...
That's how I live
So ever happily

Let love be blind
But under the sheets
No lights are needed...

Tis the warmth of the hearth
The length and breadth
That we value most
You love me
And
I’d love to toast.

So is loves divinity
A gift of eternity
Where’s the need
Of anothers invasion,
When love and lust
Can be the very most
Satisfying equation

Loss

Submitted by William Saint George on Mon, 2012-01-02 05:09

The screen indicates "loading...loading",
But all I read is "loathing, loathing".

My butter is hard on the mouldy bread,
And stale milk fills my empty breath.

I smell the flower's dying odours,
And hear the gander croaking wild.

I see my dreams like fragile glass
Shatter against the wind's stormy face.

My sleep is like a waiting grave
In which I'll die; from which I'll rise.

My fear is real, and stalking me.
As these last letters are made free.

Pages

(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.