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.

 

One-eyed Romeo

Submitted by docmaverick on Wed, 2012-07-11 10:57

The grey veil of night
like a baby's breath,
barely alive
weak, and close to death.

My name is Romeo
with but one eye,
it takes but one
to watch you die.

I'll bring a rose
of deepest red,
my gift to you
once you are dead.

I'll bring your burial
gown, this night,
and stitch the back
'till it fits just right.

I'll bring spread wings
of a butterfly's,
to cover but one
of your listless eyes.

A Penny Dreadful

Submitted by brittle light on Tue, 2012-07-10 23:48

shadows
and more shadows
angles of rain
of course
the night
lonely
distant
voiceless night

sad jazz spreads
a soothing, cool salve
over an open wound
bullet?
Knife?
shattered heart?
all hurt the same
shame
she got so close

I'll live

SELF REFLECTION

Submitted by Geremia on Tue, 2012-07-10 19:07

SELF REFLECTION

Through a prism dark
shadows crash across
the room
lamp light warm
midnight pieces
in dream’s refraction
like a mirror shattered
on the floor

Designer Threads, Or Now You're Happy & Want to Spread a Little of Your Joy

Submitted by Kailashana2 on Tue, 2012-07-10 16:58

So you went to India to find God
or a Guru who spoke on your behalf
and you left your Armani suit behind
in the closet of another's dream
sleeping
on the street where you had just passed by,
You're just another fucking spoiled common
garden-type
Westerner, you wouldn't know God
if she came to you in the form of
every man.

The Unspoken Words

Submitted by arja on Tue, 2012-07-10 07:46

through life’s existence,
in the coldness of winter,
the green fields of summer,
& the hope that spring brings..

no words to comprehend
of such emotion,
kept in secrecy & in silence,
for fear of the inevitable..

but i couldn’t help to stare,
making you uncomfortable,
isn’t it funny?
i feel the same way too..

i tried to convey such,
but I got lost somewhere.
suffocating you,
unintentionally..

My Pretty Ponies

Submitted by judyanne on Tue, 2012-07-10 06:03

My father taught me to count time in my mind
with ponies
my pretty ponies

One 'my pretty pony' takes a second to say

When in anticipation of something new
I'd count them with joy
and through my childhood years
many pretty ponies bounded
through my imagination
pulling seasons on a fast ride
towards the next adventure

each pony racing past in reckless abandon
hundreds through the years

Until the moment
some of my ponies froze for an eternity
never to fully recover

C A P R I C E of S U M M E R

Submitted by Esker on Mon, 2012-07-09 23:20

"Medulla Ossium"

guide your cartridge fingers
down the slender drain throat

overhead the rain of stars continues
burning embers of god
descend

people praying on the asphalt
gunfire and thunder
the sleek of fire is beginning
the landlines are failing

I can taste blood on the wind
as gatherers of no faith
in the last vehicles take

to the left is summer waning
to the right is summer fat
the moons oblivion smiling
down on mans fate
as its done again
and again

KILLERS

Submitted by Geremia on Mon, 2012-07-09 16:43

KILLERS
Words meant to kill
the son
cut deep into mother
and father
and like phantoms
wandering in time
haunt still
the living and the dead,
Something in us ends.
Nothing is ever the same
Again.

Parkinson's Abyss (eddy styx)original and revision

Submitted by Candlewitch on Mon, 2012-07-09 11:06

Parkinson's Abyss

stricken
by this hellish
affliction
their wounds know not
the cleansing of
bleeding
while time
ravages on
vile cruelty
of this
tiresome waiting game
takes its toll
on both
flesh and spirit

---------Anna's Revision Below----------

struck
by this hellish
affliction
their wounds know not
the cleansing
blood
of time

ravages a
vile cruelty

A Greek Tragedy

Submitted by Kailashana2 on Mon, 2012-07-09 09:43

Lost in the metaphor of you,
I submit
one last time.
The shackles of persistence
hang like a low
dark cloud upon my shoulders
and truth is a key I wear around
my neck, weighing me down.

Pages

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