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.

 

red bar stools

Submitted by 49reasons on Sat, 2011-04-16 03:25

he searched the yellow fingers
that clawed at the truths
beyond her turkey neck

tomorrow he will have forgotten,
remember nothing
beyond bleak eyes

suffocate on whiskey breath
and tainted dreams

A PARTING OF WAYS

Submitted by scribbler on Fri, 2011-04-15 19:51

I guess the good times always end

  even after all our time together

  I'd come to think of you as "friend"

  dependable in stormy weather

 

From when we met so long ago

  at a hunters' supply store

  beneath flickering flourescent glow

  we've hunted, fished and even more

 

You've been quiet comfort on my walks

  through the forest, now for years

  by never burdening me with balks

  or "wait until the weather clears"

 

There've been no complaints about my pace

love letter #3

Submitted by CCfire on Fri, 2011-04-15 18:21

we can do right or wrong
and yet we can't win it,
the argument, love
whatever is peppered
on that merciless breeze
the hanging is around my neck
and to break it
would be to swing
freely; but no one is free

i sleep in a manless bed
for no other reason
than space
and he sleeps with her
for no reason at all
unless he's frightened
or bitter, or too tired to fight

ORPHANELL, ON A RAINY DAY

Submitted by Psyve on Fri, 2011-04-15 16:48

ORPHANELL, ON A RAINY DAY
© Cyrus Dali Vesuvala
.
Orphanell, on a rainy day,
On an afternoon in June-
Though you wish your man would stay
That’s crying for the moon-
But, through your silent teacup storms,
Through lonely days like these,
Oh, Orphanell, I share your stormy seas...

Orphanell, you have a friend:
You have a saving grace-
Through afternoons without an end,
In such a lonely place-
Because, one rainy afternoon,
Beneath dark loaded skies,
Did you unload the sadness in your eyes.

The Worst Joke

Submitted by weirdelf on Fri, 2011-04-15 08:34

What was the last message received from the Challenger?
The teacher saying "What's this button for?"

[Space Shuttle Challenger was lost in an explosion as it took off from Cape Canaveral on January 28, 1986, killing all seven people on board, including the first
civilian in space, a high school teacher.]

What's light brown and furry with four legs and could
have changed the course of human history?
A dingo in Bethlehem.

fengzheng

Submitted by Pamela A. Lamppa on Fri, 2011-04-15 06:38

Wind whispers with her love affair
to wings spread wide and unaware
of songs that breathe soft melody
when nothing else can quite compare.

Her laughter trickles wild and free
for bright red lines on his marquee
to sway and bob his serpent's tail
mid cherry blossom potpourri.

Such sweet embrace will soon curtail
and leave us breathless to exhale
this dragon's romance on spring air
with string-tied kites for gusts to sail.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.

The lament of Maria Maresciallo at the funeral of Veronica Franco

Submitted by Marie Marshall on Fri, 2011-04-15 06:20

 

          I recall our hand-signs in carnival,

          the silver rings on your white gloves,

          your fingers making to me –

          you are daytime, Wooden Mary,

          these are evening and small hours.

          That was your name for me, and with it

          you hurled stones and rotten fruit

          when our friendship became tedious;

          but at other times you rested your head

          against my shoulder and sighed,

Engorged Pointlessness

Submitted by bloke on Fri, 2011-04-15 03:19

Sometimes my heart hurts like so much dust covers it.
It's like when I pee blood I pee dirt.
Uncomfortable is this lifestyle,
so why am I in love with it?

Scared to be alone at night with the vampires and werewolves,
reaching out through phone calls,
to be ignored by my sentinels.

Thinking that my girlfriend must hate,
this person I am.
She won't take my phone calls,
so I am scared to be my own friend.

Moments Of Clarity In Night City

Submitted by Race_9togo on Thu, 2011-04-14 22:53

Walking on Rush,
back in Night City after midnight,
bars muffled by cold and traffic,
hunched clots of shoulders bowing in the wind
freezing off the lake,
I slid by a canyon alley narrow between scrapers
and glimpsed

dark beauty, round curves tight,
swelling breasts and full lips,
wide hips,
oval face lit by orange
sodium light
in pit of night,
flushed hard with business
and boredom,
gaze turned away from grunting john
to me,

pagan

Submitted by CCfire on Thu, 2011-04-14 22:00

let's resurrect us
based on survival
there is a need
to travel life in pairs
you are weak
a kitten without claws
extraneous, leaning against will

the rock i am built upon
is not your morality of judgment
i don't need your approval
to know when the tide hits
faith won't wash me away

i'll stand content
in the face of deaths voice

not expecting to be saved

Pages

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