I hope no one's offended by this.
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Cheap Imitations to Court Inspiration
Lawrence BeckTo grow old is no grave matter, it’s the
Waiting, the in-between, the ticking
Of the biological clock that irks me.
How skin sags, bones start to creak
And even breath gives up on you sometimes.
If I could go back into the womb
And stop myself from being born, most days
I can’t imagine I would say no.
Alan J Ripley
The winter sun makes me warm
Like how a hug does,
And that’s what I tell myself
When I get too cold
Maybe I could go get a hug
I am happy I can and that I have
People to hug
How sweet it is when everything
Around you reminds you of love.
Ngoc Nguyen
A stranger in a strange world I
Still find solace in each breath passed
From out nostrils that twitch, and try
To breathe despite how unsurpassed
Strangeness can be, often its cursed
But to be strange means you’re unique
And that’s what I focus on first
When gripped by stray melancholy
D G Moody
The sweetest sight is
The bright blue sky, cloudless,
Or maybe one or two about
Outside the curtains
Beckoning the day.
Today I am alive, and
Tomorrow isn’t promised
But this is the one loan I
Don’t intend to feel bad about.
Uncle Meridian
A smile is sweet but a laugh is tasty,
Isn’t that right, my morose friend?
And I can tell your stomach is empty
By just how your brows are bent.
So, let me feed you in small morsels
Verses filled with joy, and give
First a taste, and then a jarful
Of happiness, as a simple gift.
One Trick Pony
I’ve been looking into myself recently
To find answers
Like eyes peering in an aquarium
But in this case I’m both
The eye on the outside
And the fish on the inside
Both curious and clueless
Still I swim and gawk and gawk and swim
Pointless is my pastime.
Sona
I think poems are the only way
To tell you how I feel
Because words don’t have
The same resilience, my love
Maybe if I keep writing
Poetry then love can become
Physical enough
That when you miss me
Like I often miss you
You can hold the pages
That hold my poems
And in that way
Hold me
Ingvar Loco Nordin
The cockroach can’t tell God from trash
And in that way it is superior
To man who constantly tries to find
Meaning in both
But what is even worse
He tries to justify the search
As some new-fangled thing
When really
Since the dawn of man he
Has been searching while
Things fall off his plate
And the cockroach follows close behind
Eating our leftovers
In that too
It is the wiser of us two
Nils Teodor
Poems
Are a
Broken thing but
Maybe it can
Translate
What
We often
Can’t spit out
As sweet
Melody
Griffoner
I can see the end of my life
Sometimes like the last note
Of a song, because it rhymes
With how the song has been
Playing from the beginning.
Does this mean my life is one note?
Sometimes it really feels so
But that is not to say
I didn’t dance. Yes.
That is not to say
I didn’t dance.
alarian
they say a dog is the happiest
existence in the world because it has no expectations
so if I howl at the moon enough
can I get started on being happy too?
or did I fail before I began
because I “wanted” in the first place?
ken d williams
No matter what happens
Life goes on
That is a blessing
We could all die tomorrow
But this globe we call home
Will not stop
That is a blessing
Sameen Shakya
The Frustrated Wordsmith of Kathmandu
Poetry by Sameen
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Editors' choiceWritten on 2023-11-24 at 09:41
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Editorial Team |
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ken d williams |
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MetaPoetics |
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Ingvar Loco Nordin |
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Sona |
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Sona |
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jim |
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shells |
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D G Moody |
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Uncle Meridian |
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arquious |
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Alan J Ripley |
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Lawrence Beck |
