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Regular poetry thread
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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)
(April 30, 2017 - 8:51 pm)
Radio
An old antique radio
It still plays music despite
The years that have
Worn away against it
A good friend that
You meet again whenever
You turn the radio on
And when it plays, your
Breathing syncs into
The music, calming you
Whenever the tides
Are a bit too high and
Are drowning you
The antique radio is
Your island amidst
The sea of churning
Waves, it’s a visit
To an old friend
Again
(February 8, 2024 - 10:53 pm)
ooh i really love this!! the slight repetitions, the feeling of comfort/stability, even slight nostalgia. your wording is also really good! i especially like the lines "calming you / whenever the tides / are a bit too high and / are drowning you." i also like how the last line was shorter than the rest of the lines and kind of broke up the flow to the poem - made the ending all the more impactful :D
(February 9, 2024 - 6:56 am)
tysm <33333 that rlly means a lot :))
your poetry is always amazing as well. it feels so meaningful and beautiful :)
(February 9, 2024 - 5:27 pm)
Regret
I regret not
Joining in the big picture, I just
Didn't want to be a hassle but I see now
That if they're real friends, they would've found a way to fit me in.
Do they think I don't like them now?
Do they think I didn't want to be in a picture with them, that I
Didn't even try?
It hurts to think about.
And I regret
Not sitting closer at the lunch table to begin with, I wasn't sure
That people would want to sit next to me, I was more comftorable
Keeping the distance of chairs between me and the group
Because I want everyone to be
Comftorable and
Who would be comftorable next to me?, I had thought, but now
Why wouldn't people be comftorable next to me because
Isn't that what friends do, sit next to each other at the lunch table
Self-isolation is hard to come back from,
And I don't think I'm strong enough to hold the door open, it's closing me
I think it's smashing me to pieces, it's not,
But sometimes it feels like it, and I
Cry
I call them the fake friends, the bad friends, the not-really-a-friend friends
Because don't friends always wait for each other? And don't friends never leave the odd one out standing
Alone? but what if I was the
Fake friend the bad friend the not-even-trying friend, I said I would, then gave up, didn't even give them much of a
Chance, what a bad friend, why would they wait for me even if I waited for them, wouldn't they
Think I didn't want them to bother me while
Reading
Why am I always reading when with them anyway, I don't
Know how to engage in conversation anymore, especially when
The people talking are all on the other side of the table, they've learned long ago
That I don't talk and I wish I could tell them it was untrue,
I did but was it true?,
I wish that when I saw them all huddled in a group
I had squeezed in next to them; it would've been so easy, I imagined it a
Million times, I would just casually walk up, drop my stuff next to theirs, see what they were all starting at even if I wasn't remotely interested,
They would say hi, and I would say hi back,
Instead I turned, each time, I turned, 1,2,3,4,5,6
6 failed attempts and I can't believe it
6 approaches but was I ever really approaching?,
I wish I hadn't gone to look for that
Nonexistent hawk each time, told myself
To listen for the kee-AHH, kee-AHH, but all I could hear
Was them laying on the floor, watching the screen intently
It didn't make a sound but it filled up my head
Would've been so easy, you're not gonna give in now, shouldered my backpack then
The bell rang and I cried, why
Can't I do such a simple thing as this? Why is it so
Impossible for my, why why why
Why?
And now regret consumes me, takes me as its own...
I'm gonna do better today.
(February 9, 2024 - 9:33 am)
Last time it rained this
Way, cold, thick water settling
In my cheeks
And lungs filling
With stony drops
Was the day of your wake.
I wonder for whom this shower
Mourns
Today
With its drizzle of
Cold, thick water that pools
Between my ribs
And weighs me down like a bag of rocks
Tossed into an unforgiving ocean.
(February 10, 2024 - 2:38 pm)
Warm smiles, gentle rain
Forehead kisses and the scent of clean,
Bubbling giggles and soothing lulls,
The warmth of a beloved's breath,
The playful push-and-pulls;
It now seems so very far away.
Something that almost could've been
But then slipped away again.
Far from ever being real,
A dream, now shattered in your wake
A silly hope, now meant to crumble --- fake.
(February 10, 2024 - 4:41 pm)
in small towns
nestled deep within mountains
carpeted with dying trees,
there's not much to do in the winter.
during summer,
town is buzzing with tourists.
cheery music drifts from the local park,
restaurants have doors flung open
to let the evening breeze waltz in
and the chatter of guests out,
and little shops hum with the delight of visitors
all too happy to pay tourist prices for a cheap souvenir.
but in the chill of february?
everything is quiet,
silenced by the dusting of snow.
hotels more closely resemble haunted houses,
a collage of dark windows,
ghostly tourists haunting the empty halls.
restaurants close early,
spending long days hopefully waiting for a
few kind locals to drift in.
the park stage sits forgotten in the long nights,
buried beneath autumn's offering of dead leaves.
the locals spend most nights huddled by wood stoves
until the air is hazy with smoke
and the mountains are cozy with warm houses
tucked into the trees
and fog weaving around their snow sprinkled peaks.
patiently,
they wait for the snow to melt
and summer to flood the town once again.
(February 11, 2024 - 10:18 pm)
Beautiful as always, luv <3
(February 12, 2024 - 4:35 am)
thank you so much, Jay <3 it's great to see you around!
(February 12, 2024 - 11:58 pm)
HOORAY IT'S A PEPPERMINT POEM
Seriously, though, as Jaybells said, this is beautiful - I think I may have said this before, but I just love the way you take small things of daily life, like autumn leaves and tourists going through shops, and weave them all together into something that throws a whole new light onto them - it makes the reader think, and at the same time reminds him or her of the best things in life, which are often the things that might go unnoticed. (Wow, you can really tell I've been having a lot of literature analysis in school lately :P) Anyway, I greatly enjoyed reading this, as always with your poetry <333
(February 12, 2024 - 7:53 pm)
awww thank you Poinsettia!! your compliments mean so much to me <3 thank you for always being so supportive!
(February 12, 2024 - 11:57 pm)
*bows very elegantly* it's a pleasure :)
(February 13, 2024 - 9:37 pm)
Myriad
It’s a myriad of noise
Some distorted, some
Unidentifiable, some
Wavering, like my
Memories of you
And of when I once
Felt that I could have
The world infinitely
But now I’m caught
Stuck in the loop
Of the same distorted
Unidentifiable, wavering
Music, that turns
And falls like
Shadows
(February 12, 2024 - 12:03 am)
This is sooo good!!! :DD
(February 12, 2024 - 12:26 am)
Tysm!!! <333
(February 12, 2024 - 1:05 pm)