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what if you were made of grass and you grew beneath my fully-formed form that is ever-transformingwould you feel and know the eco-arousal of our microbacterial exchangewould you be as satisfied as mewould you be ,...taking my words away from mei d
So many poems these days remind me of a college poetry class presentation. Not the students who genuinely want to be there there. No, the students who took the class for an easy A and are now forced to write to pass the class.
What do we believe is in the sea? How can you believe there’s nothing more to see? A blue so deep no light seeps through I wish I could see that part too.
I keep my poems Close to my heart You told me that I could share them With the world if I really wanted to.
How now brown cow? Do you wear your crown when they hate your brown? How now when no one is around? Do you still frown? Still feel down? Neglected? Unheard? Like your voice don’t sound?
A poem isn't just some artistic words on a white line. A poem isn't just an approach. A poem is healing and warm. It's a pat on the back. It's creativity.
The Queen of the Mountain They called her the Queen of Virtue True to her personality, morals and values Respectful in every walk done in golden shoes
Knew he wasn't the one first time I saw him Wonder what he thought when he first saw me But if he's a jerk then I can be a beach Burnin him for revenge, then I can move on Keeping him forever
There were three "Br"s, The first and strongest named Ye, The second and tallest named N, The third and smartest named L, Needless to say the "Br"s were weird
I loved a constellation once. She was a lovely embodiment. Water and Earth couldn't have gone together better. I knew just what it looked like too, the said constellation. It was the faintest, while mine was the second largest in the sky.
Ay yo azmatha fuckin matik brought to you to wreck havoc, allthrough out your planet, Cuntsavage, a pretty lavish, classic young man,
Grey and cold...a chill upon the early morning air. An orange hue, pink warmth spilling across the grey ground, Rising like a mist to color the sleepy sky. Within a tiny hovel sleeps,
And i know i am another one, another bird in the tree, finally knocked by a stone, but atleast you came down with me.
rain settles in. dank, organic breath of steam. i spit out my life: sweet, sweet beginnings to
I spoke with painful memory that each word wasn’t clear to those around me. Each time the words went to sound they danced upon the waves as noise.
On the days you don’t feel appreciated Just know that we are here To guide you through the thunderstorms And comfort you out of fear
A laborious craft Where you spin Words of silk And satin Stories of fire And raging war Legends of dragons And battles of lore Myths of demons And ancient enemies
Grow up, they’ll tell you. Put down the toys, stop the tinkering. Life’s more than just messing around they’ll say. Develop a purpose. Go out and make a difference.
Can't believe my life lately man,where do i begin? It's been a crazy few months, dont know when it'll end It's all been negativity no positive spin Fighting a uphill battle assumin i'd never win,well
Being alone can be a pain Have to find a way to stay sane To grasp that inner kid sensation You have to have a powerful imagination
Dear Father Time and Mother Nature,
Alone upon the wreckage, Broken hearts on either side, The dark distorted crater, Where my last hope came and died. The darkness all around me, Not cut through by the light, My solo isolation,
Don't trust a creative typeDon't trust a musicianHe'll create melodies like the ones you heard as a childYou'll dance to every chord so blissfullyThe tempo starting slow then soon racing like your heart
Tick Tock the clock mocks straight from up ahead As I lay, Time keeps pounding down upon my head. My head lays heavy on the dark blue sheets of my bed No matter what I do sleep is something that I dread.
She gazed across the baren lands, a rusted key lay in her hands, a salted tear slipped down her face, she sat on the balcony, crumpling her lace. Alone she sat hour after hour,
Holding my wooden basket, Fingers splintering, Walking through the apple orchard, Feet blistering. Birds echo their symphony overhead, Then my ears catch a muffled noise;
I'm here to sleep like America is today never to speak Just follow a path one way who needs art when you're molded like clay Rip out the part that we wish would stay
They say life is like a book of handwritte
Ask me who I am in the raw, I'll tell you. I wake up like everyone else. I get dressed, brush my teeth. Most people assume that is me. 5'2", brown hair, brown eyes.
A version of myself. Entirely different from the one that I expose Kept flawlessly preserved behind a mask
Eyes crawl all over the pla
I am me and no one else; A cluster of stars, Made of gentle fish kisses, Covering my flesh, With tender softness. My eyes reflect the moon,
Her Happiness By Adriana Gutierrez
Carry your mind with curiousity. Indulge in every wonder within sight, Keep your senses open. Something grand is just beyond this road; This path is leading you to adventure.
A feeling is awakened in your soul Somewhere only music can reach A swelling in your heart A tingle all over Emotion rushing over you Peace, sadness, anger, happiness Beauty in the form of emotion.
its a cover its a page its a hand with a pen its a rainbow Its a sky its the waves And the sand its hopefull it inspires its what i love Its happiness.. its mine
What makes me smile? Well that's a funny question, For the things worthwhile, To me at least, Are simply a facial expression. A sparkle in the eye,
I said i'm going to rise to the top of the mountain....wait wait wait... I said I'm going to rise to the top of the mountain. Stand on this stage declaring my Name,say. Because I am a king, ayee.
Little, little Asian nymph splayed across her bed.
When all is gone I will always have my factory. Her gears twist and turn and shout out with the clank of imagination as plates drop from one machine to the next, proving that it was worth the stretch to the next step.
The day you left, Marked a day where a part of me was gone. When your spirit left your body, It took a part of me with you. I was in despair, Yearning for the days that you come back,
He Is Bliss
Love the scent of Chicago cuisines,
Great in battle, the strongest warrior- I am that I am. Loving and merciful, grateful and beautiful- I am that I am. The one who is, was and is to come, Elshaddai, Emmanuel- I am that I am.
The coming of freedomThe trails ablaze from our stepsLighting the spark to our final showdownRefuse again, the cries of defeatCome, let us get up again on our feet
I own my daysWeekdays? I got this. I succeed.But it's on Saturday and Sunday that I feedMy soul.I do what makes me happy.I live my life the right way, but my wayWhen I do chores, it's still play
Two cartoony tigers, Friends for life, Who live in a house That bounces all night. Two giants, Father and son. One smart, One dumb, One is mean, One is bullied. A pine tree,
Oh! Bringer of water, thou hast lost me! Why must I cry for help that fades Into a deeper abyss I flee
What makes you happy? A question we all ask ourselves. A lot makes me happy.
Welcome to wonderland
The rhythm that moves you, The words that persuade, The feelings and emotions That make you afraid. Let them all go, They have nowhere to hide, They might as well flow,
The best part of art lies in the subconscious, Not within the scrutiny of a scholar’s essay, Not within the thoughts that the artist speaks to herself, But within the very muscles of the hand,
Confrontations in every conversation
Sometimes it takes shedding a tear to feel like your empty of a moment's despair. Were clear is as near as a windshield wipe upon a smear of fear.
Working diligently... Alone... (humming loudly to myself) POUNDING LOUDLY AT THE PIANO! I leave my solitude for a moment to get some water. (All the while, symphonies compose themselves in my head,
As the cymbals crash at the final note, the audience applauds and lose their minds. We stood upon the platform posing... Our bodies exhausted but still filled with adrenaline.
Welcome to the realm of creative individuals
Art relates to me. Art is the creative skill and imagination presented to the world. Every stroke of paint an artist adds on a canvas, every stitch a designer puts in a piece of clothing
Cartoons play on the screens The master minds behind the scenes Is who I will achive to be.
Little ant in the hole, Go dig like a mole, Little ant in the hole, Don’t go explore. For you do not know what is out there, The unknown is forbidden, and that is why it is evil.
I am who I am, Wishing to be more creative,
Time is short I took the pills And now it's time for you to know what I do when I'm down, or my tank is running low I write. I write every snowy day And every summer night.
My eyes flutter open
Imagine I had the power to change anything in the world Not the stereotypical status quo kind of change like world peace But...
You don't own me.. My past is dead. It holds no meaning What happened happened. I need to be free of it; I need to believe in feelings that are true, That are beautiful, that are real.
The seed sits in the field thristy for water begging for sun light A drop of water moists into dry skin softens its body another drop falls followed by another
Many in this world find themselves stuck
Hello there teacher! I am so sorry to tell you that your class is a mess! Behind your back, OH NO could it be! Wall twerking! Maybe… Texting! Of corse… Learning! NOOO! Your class is a mess!
What I would like to see Consists of greater funding of three. The first builds upon creativity. The second trains many, for jobs. The Third explains everything. First, is seen everywhere,
I’m spinning, I can’t get off my high of dizziness. The clouds aren’t so far away. Can I reach for it? The words drawn out, said, flow with the wind in a soft indulging sound.
Why is it that a school could feel like prison an institution where there's no one to listen We are denied of expression if it's not a calculus lesson Where the funding goes elsewhere
Blue Skies Blue goodbyes But don't fret we've still got plenty yet we'll throw a plane and fly a ball Now lets all ride the Hopisticall He's blue and red and furry all over
I walk through the empty room, cold and scared. It is dark in the room, but not the door. Underneath it shines a light that is glared. Its brightness is something not to ignore.
From when children of the 90's are exposed to the world of fantasy, With wild imagination and creativity that sores beyond a lie. That first glance we believe we could fly,
It is always darkest before the dawn In a world where coffee cups cast rays of light And the sun and the moon cast shadows into the morning The trials of time know no lies
A poet in a world without onions doesn't see the clouds as white. In a world without apples clowns' noses aren't red. The world has no color. The rivers have become blood;
Do drugs make faces lie? Does liquor deepen the hole? Cut once to fill it. When mirrors break, glue can only dull shards.
As children we scribbled on paper so white, Counting the colors, Enjoying the sight, Of the marvelous splendor, Of something we made, Showed it to mom, Then went out and played.
O Creative Writing, you have treated me well!Now I hope that I do not forget how to spell.We have learned that poetry has meaning and grace,And that it can benefit the whole human race.
In Winter my heart did weep. Oh, how it broke in two! And how horribly that wound seeps, And oh it ached for you. And when summer came to rise, My heartached and I cried, "what a shame I'm not to wise." "Why so naiive?" it sighed.
Dances in on fairy feetGives rosy cheeks little kissesBy gently touching each face with loveIn a cold, barren wastelandAnd then flies away on wispy, delicate wings...
I want to make things. Beautiful things. I want to paint the world with starlight and glass, luster and life. The crash of an ocean wave soaked in vivid reds and blues.
A girl with a silent struggle Words caught in her throat Carefully blended in Edges too blurred Easily missed. Someone with a name But a name of no distinction. “What’s in a name?
The tingling sensation felt in my fingertips. The crevices of our hands joined together by an inseparable bond. The excitement and commotion caused by the fluttering insects leaping in my stomach.
You flourish an extent of bounded knowledge only within yourself. Ignorant, what is love you ask. Clasp this wonder, your mind not be inquisitive, but at peace. Listen, Let me guide you. A flailing heart only knows so little.
A fact fades from truth to legend, to simple fantasy. Sustaining mortal life without life of her own- the Goddess drifts Four essences lye in her wake, She searches endlessly.
When dusk fell The animals fell silent. The trees began to stir Whispering among themselves "It's coming!" they seemed to say
While the breath of ice is upon us, We have nothing but each other for warmth- And safety. Protect me from the eye watering Wind that blasts from the frost-whipped sky. Envelop me; for warmth was stolen