Regular poetry thread

Chatterbox: Pudding's Place

Regular poetry thread

Regular poetry thread (because I'm tired of not editing my poems)

This is exactly what it sounds like! A thread to post poetry. I'm excited to read all of your work!

submitted by Bluebird
(April 30, 2017 - 8:51 pm)

back to the Pudding's Place

I Wish

I wish someone would hold me,

love me,

give me a shoulder to cry on,  

I wish someone would love me.

 

No one seems to notice me,

even when I notice them,

I wish I could be loved by someone.

 

I always seem to like someone who never likes me back,

I need a shoulder to cry on,

Someone to hold me and love me.

 

I wish someone would,

hold me,

hug me,

love me.

 

Sometimes no one knows that I exsist,

But maybe you're out there and you see me,

Just like I see you,

Or maybe you dont see me,

Yo see someone else.

 

I wish I had someone to hug, love, hold, and give them a shoulder to cry on.

I wish i had someone who would alway be there for me. 

submitted by BookGirl, age Tired, Somewhere but nowhere
(September 4, 2023 - 12:21 pm)

Am I an imposter

In my own skin

Someone who knows what she knows

Yet doubts who's within? 

Am I a dreamer

Who never sleeps, never wakes

Someone who's steady

But still wants to shake?

Am I a pretender

Who's only good at one thing

Who puts on a costume

Every morning... 

Every mourning...

Every torn

Thing.

Who puts on a costume

At every torn thing

And calls it her own

Skin.

Am I an imposter

Who doubts who's within?

What's within?

I smile when I should cry

I laugh when I should sigh

I feel brave when I lie, guilty when I lie, I'll lie until I get caught,

I'm already caught

In this net

Of my falsehoods.

My own net saves me

When I fall

Yet will it be the end

Of it all?

I feel nothing.

My heart of stone beats

To the rhythm of silence,

Tears don't fall

From my eyes

Until they do.

Do you think I can control it

When I cry?

I am an imposter

But aren't we all. 

submitted by CelineBurning More, age As Needed, The FireMist Sea
(September 4, 2023 - 6:54 pm)

Boxes packed, moving truck loaded

Car is cramped, siblings goaded

Long drive in store

Leaving home forever more.

Goodbye to the familiar land

Adios to the friendly neighbors at hand

Farewell to all friends dear

I’ll text you year after year.

Later, to the birds and trees

I will miss dearly all of these.

But hello to new friendships, and home

Hey to new magic forest gnome

Hola to waterfalls of beauty, 

Nature's treasure booty

Awaits in the new state

I will miss all of late

But now I have a new place

And I will put on a brave face

And embrace

Everything with good grace.

submitted by Hawkstar
(September 7, 2023 - 2:10 pm)

 

CLOCK 

Time is going

Very slow

For all my knowing

Time can’t go

Faster than a snail’s pace

When waiting to go

Find friends to race

To have fun 

To talk to

As the sun 

Sails in the blue

Time is going

Very fast

For all my knowing

Time won’t last

It speeds up when

Fun is had

Play just started then

Time to go, it’s so sad

Sun is down

Behind the town

Time is going

Out of whack

For all my knowing

Behind my back

It snickers and giggles

Laughs and cries

Speeds up when I get my wiggles

Slows when in boredom I lie

Time is naughty

It is clever

Very haughty

And it never

OBEYS

submitted by Hawkstar
(September 7, 2023 - 6:48 pm)
Observation on an August Afternoon
A white cross stands on the side of the road,
On the divide between concrete and endless rolling fields.
“Diana, 2017”
Flowers lie at its base, or sometimes another token.
Six years have passed, and yet there is no decay to be found here.
I believe there never will be.
This monument will stand forever - 
A memory, a prayer, an elegy.
A small reminder of both finality and infinity.
submitted by Sterling, age they/them, wish it was autumn
(September 7, 2023 - 8:15 pm)

Oooooo, for some reason I really like this one! It's so well-written :)

submitted by Poinsettia, a sea of crystal waters
(September 15, 2023 - 3:20 pm)
Liminal Summer
If you close your eyes, you can almost imagine the ocean,
The air invigorated with seagull cries and salty sunscreen scent
Instead of asphalt and feverish stillness.
The road is empty, too empty.
Your bicycle, the one you have long outgrown but continue to pedal with an almost mad fervor,
Is the only traveler in this heavy 5 o’clock haze.
Beyond your sight, an ice cream truck sings its tinny melody.
The tune is familiar, too familiar.
Blinking traffic lights guide you back to that acquainted-with house,
Its white walls and sturdy bricks stained with time,
Backyard grass grown high and unkempt.
It is quiet, too quiet.
You used to love ice cream, its many colors 
And the way it dripped off of your chin into saccharine puddles.
Now you cannot stand the taste.
It is sweet, too sweet.
---
This started as just a collection of thoughts I had one day this summer, and it kind of became something about both global warming and growing up??  Poetry is weird. 
submitted by Sterling, age they/them, wish it was autumn
(September 7, 2023 - 8:17 pm)

The world is ending

I can hear it

The thump

Of the Earth falling

Off orbit

The total finality

Of never being able to come back 

Of things never being able to be what they were

Before.

They're talking about me

They're watching me

Everywhere I go.

There is no freedom.

The world is ending 

Slow motion falling

To pieces

And I am powerless to stop it.

It slips from my grip,

When had I loosened, I can't remember

I thought I had been holding tight but 

Now I'm not so sure.

I thought I had been in control

But now I see I was wrong

Too late.

The world is ending 

And I can only watch it fall

To

The

Floor

And

Shatter. 

 

Also, @Sterling, agreed!! 

submitted by CelineEndoftheWorld, age MorePoetry, Losing Control
(September 10, 2023 - 3:09 am)

Nothing Forever

All my life I've been
carefully calibrating a barrier blocking
thoughts and feelings from
leaking,
                                                 slipping out.

        Nothing  can get through it.

When I try to break through,
just a tiny bit,
It 
Holds.
Unwavering.

I've given one side to the public eye;
I'm the excitable puppy,
always happy,
enthusiastic, 
smiling
Completely    perfect.

But - I'm not. 
(Not all time time, anyway)
But I have to be.
If I'm not,
will anyone like me?
will they think I'm a liar?

Maybe that's who I am.
(Or, at least, partially)
How will anyone really know?

       Who am I, anyway?
Who do I want to be?
Will society accept me if I am myself?

The Barricade bars all pondering from
pouring out.

But — 
what if it does fall?
Like a dam, water destroying everything
that once stood tall?
Then what?
Am I destined to be a social outcast
                                                Forever? 

The Blockade has to be demolished,
yet, it must stay strong.
Can I ever push past this perpetual paradox?

submitted by Rainbow, age teen, Writing between the lines
(September 10, 2023 - 12:41 pm)

Nooo! The formatting didn't go through despite working on it FOREVER... I wonder if I do it on a write it out or somethin', then take a picture out that, it'll work... @Admins, is that okay? If I do that way so the formatting goes through? And if it is, would you mind maybe deleting the not-formatted poem in my previous comment? Thank you!

Yes, I can delete your previous submission of the poem when you specifically tell me to do that. Formatting may be disrupted when you copy and paste into the Chatterbox window from some other applications. It's more likely to work if you type the poem directly into the CB window. But I know that's more work for you if you've already written the poem elsewhere.

Admin

submitted by Rainbow, age teen, Serenading the moon
(September 10, 2023 - 5:00 pm)

I think I actually like it better now that I put it onto the digital art program bc I can that the background and the colors... also now it's not just poetry but also an art piece (like that other thing I did, except that was more of a mental breakdown on paper, so...)

 

(Inkling says "navin" that sounds like a name...) 

Untitled_Artwork.jpeg
submitted by Rainbow, age teen, Writing between the lines
(September 10, 2023 - 7:38 pm)

Wow, this is so achingly gorgeous! If I were to read this without context, I'd think it was professional! (In fact I did just that when I first read it, and then was like, wait, this is on the chatterbox!?!?!)

It really is such a beautiful journey through the loneliness forged by deception and feeling pressured to put on an act to remain socially acceptable. 

submitted by Jaybells, Lost, somewhere
(September 11, 2023 - 6:23 pm)

THATS SO COOL OMG--

I'm a sucker for visual poetry (despite having never really experimented with it myself?) and this is just that -- i love the idea of combining art forms (in this case poetry and visual art) to create something beautiful and this is so COOL. the formatting and message and everything is just so well donee!!

it's really cool how blue-highlighted, pink-highlighted, and non-highlighted texts all have slightly different messages, but overall it goes really well and combines to make an really beautiful (and very relatable, i might add) piece! 

my favorite lines are probably "All my life I've been/carefully calibrating a barrier blocking/thoughts and feelings from/leaking,/slipping out." and "But--/what if it does fall?/Like a dam, water destroying everything/that once stood tall." but I really love all of it! 

i always enjoy reading your writing, and it's awesome to see you experimenting with different styles of poetry!! can't wait to see what you come up with next~~

submitted by pangolin, age she/they, Outskirts of the Galaxy
(September 11, 2023 - 7:31 pm)

The world is such an ephemeral place.

Delicate, yet fierce and fearsome;

Blink and you miss it

And all you can do 

Is regret all the 

Never-was-

dones


When I was little I used to think that

There must be so many ghosts

Out there in the world, lost

Wandering – sad and

Scared and lonely.


Long ago, 

I used to 

Think I wanted to help

Those poor

Lost souls; reunite the torn 

Pages and drive back 

The tear-stains, 

Back into the shimmering 

Eyes that squeezed 

Them out, and roll the rain

Up, retracing its path, back into the clouds

Then with one swift blow

Maybe all the dust in

The sky would

Go away.


I had not yet seen

How deep those tear-traced gorges went.


I had not yet felt

The relief and exhaustion of a summer-shower.


I had not yet thought

Myself to be a poor lost soul myself.

 

Indeed, when objects phase through my hands

And I observe people who never respond to me,

Perhaps it is not the world that rotates

As one big phantom.

No, perhaps the ghost is I, instead.

submitted by Jaybells, Lost within a Poem
(September 11, 2023 - 6:53 pm)

Here's a poem I made for 9/11:

Now

Morning

Cold and cloudy

Shading the city

Against the harsh sun

History

Long forgotten

Yet remembered

Vague and blurry

Deeds

Good things especially

For today even if it should 

Be done every day

News

That repeats itself

Again and again

Unfamiliar and detached

Delay

Beneficial for me

Yet none for those

Thousands of people

Roses

Scattered red petals

Against the grassy ground

Some on smooth carved stone

Wish

That time could change

That it could be more than

A lingering embrace

More

Than just a whisper

Or a wind in the air

That it could be someone here

Now 

submitted by Moon Wolf, age lunaryears, A Celestial Sky
(September 11, 2023 - 7:11 pm)
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