#new poets club

[ecrisettaistoi]

Ligne de fuite

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Finalement,

est-ce que la lumière ne viendrait pas ?

Après tant de temps

dans l'obscurité,

va-t-elle réussir à s'extirper de l'ombre

facilement ?

(et je repense aux mouettes de l'Amoco Cadiz

sur une plage anonyme, engluées de profit)

Finalement,

ne serait-ce pas notre moment ?

Là, demain, maintenant,

dans quelques mois.

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[milkymarble]

went to the loony bin and all i got was this crappy poem

[laazulmuerta]

Eternal Duet

In love’s vast symphony, we find our place,

A duet of hearts, a dance of time and space.

Your touch, a gentle chord that softly sighs,

Plays on the strings of dreams beneath the skies.

In moments sweet, our love’s a tender tune,

A serenade beneath the silver moon.

Your laughter, light as notes in springtime’s song,

Brings harmony where once the night was long.

Yet love can be a melancholic strain,

A minor key, a haunting, sweet refrain.

Your absence, like a cello’s mournful cry,

Fills empty rooms where shadows softly lie.

When distance grows, our song takes darker hues,

A sonnet lost in twilight’s deepening blues.

The pain of longing, like a muted string,

Echoes the sorrow of a heart’s deep sting.

But then, your presence turns the tide of sound,

In symphonies of joy, our souls are bound.

Your kiss, a crescendo in the silent night,

Transforms the dark to melodies of light.

Our love, a blend of dusk and dawn’s embrace,

A rhapsody where light and shadow chase.

In every note, both joy and sorrow lie,

A music of the heart that will not die.

For love is both the ballad and the wail,

A story told in whispers and in gale.

In every heartbeat, every rise and fall,

Our love, a song eternal, echoes all.

[divyawritespoems]

I no longer wish to be your sunlight and a sunflower. As for you, I was mere nobody. Because you didn't see the bright in me and I couldn't see how you neglected me.

For you i was just a glass, mere glass. As for you i only quenched your thirst. And, you didn't see the cool i gave you and i couldn't see how wide i could flow..

So far now since you've used me all, i refuse to add up my bits into your loop holes. Even if the tulips of your heart get dry and you get short of breath.

-Divya

[healingwiththefeelings]

“I hate you”

“You hate who i will never be”

- conversations with a mirror

[bishopknight0517]

I steadily fight the others inside of my Thunderdome

My thoughts aren’t my own

Aliens talking to me with a dialect that I don’t know

Making me scream and fight shadows inside of my own home

Scratching against the walls, showing the bones

I just want to be left alone

But the neighbors, the fucking neighbors

Saying that they found their savior through prayer

Their stares can see through my layers

They know I’m the Devil underneath this skin of mine

Try as I might

I imagine steaks sizzling on the grill when they cook underneath the summer sky

A freak that has a craving for human meat

Sweet and succulent treat that’s making drool hit my feet

The only way that you’ll see me being tender

Is when I’m on a bender hitting a thigh with a hammer

Gotta be quiet as a mouse when circling around the house

My eyes filled with Elmer’s glue at the sight of you lying on the couch wearing nothing but a blouse

Bright white lights coming from my eyes as my serpent ties come alive

My struggle is my strife as I grip the knife wanting to take another life

Entering through the front door like a fly, no sound no sight

White lightning and clouded thoughts high on cocaine makes the blood fall like rain

What a wicked game we play where the only way to leave is through pain

It’s a shame that history won’t remember your name

Just another lame in my lane on my rise to fame

[darichonne]

insta: @darichonne

[inkedwingss]

Time is a Mirror

As the clock tick-tacks and sand runs through my hands, muscles, veins

That old thirst comes and goes in waves, cascades, what a shame:

A hug without arms, a look without lenses, the whole traffic stopped to see

What life was like when you're not here, when I'm feeding on destilated absence

In the mirror your image, unborn flower of spring, so delicate

So thin, in your time, the fingerprints, and in that last letter, all my sins

Things we wish were unseen, forgiven

Like the day I left behind the most important thing

Time doesn't clock back, but memories and what ifs do clock in

They create roots and later spread like weed

Through the land of your heart, and the land of your misery

What would a poet be, without poetry? What would a writer do without words to eat

What am I without you in this foreign world that sometimes means nothing to me

Shall we still pursue beauty? At what cost! I forgot how to weave stories

Now I just weave feelings and interdimensional sober experiences

I only taste the savoury, never the sweetness

I get drowned in dryness and interrupt life's fertile wetness

The natural design, the intelligent patterns of creation, the mirror or time

So hauntingly unforgiving

[cowardlyriver]

And maybe this too is a part of me. Maybe I cannot reject it all; the fumbling, sloppiness of life in exchange for the steady rhythm of success. All my cracks and fissures given away for an exhaustion free, guilt free existence. Maybe, impossibly, you will forget everything except my words, rushing and tumbling over one another. Maybe to exist by the river is to let oneself be run over by the weight of the water until your roots form. All of this to say, I am embarrassed about the confusion on your face, as I tried to string together a sentence coherent enough to be sensible. I am embarrassed about my inability to exist in all the ways I want to. I am embarrassed about my desire to control all of this even when I know I cannot, I am embarrassed about my fear of failure. How self absorbed of me to think that I would be spared from failure. To think I could live an entire life without failing, who taught me this? This fear of failure as if it is the plague and not the most human thing ever.

I am embarrassed about how much I fumble and drown in the face of my own life and choices. All of this to say; my life is my own and yet somehow my arms ache from the weight of it.

[wearethepoemspoetry]

When a Man Writes a Poem

After he writes a poem, a man may talk to his dog with a great loneliness as if, just then, he had given away all his worthwhile thoughts. And if he has no dog, he may turn on the radio quietly when he feels so alone to confirm that somebody else knows how to write words made of stone. If he has no radio, he may sit on the porch at midnight, breeze in his face, the smells of summer, a glass of whiskey. If there is no whiskey, then beer. He may suck the bottle clean with his thirst. Later, lying awake, he may hear locusts chirping, crying out to find their mates. If there are no locusts, then the blue noise of June that tells him life is bigger than any word he writes. He knows his sadness will only get worse, according to some law.

So he writes another poem, and repeats the cycle all over again.

[love-once-was]

Settle me into lavender ripples

Allow me a chance to change my ways

I’ve stayed here for days and days

Tinkering with the time and

Realizing that it might be too much to challenge

Always remembering that

It’s my moment to shine if I want it but

Waking up is a little off from the morning before

A nickel, a dime, I can’t seem to pick

Which coin will be the best to scratch these lottery tickets

We let the people put their perception into places we barely know

Showing us a road but not showing us all the ways we could go

Pick a path and hope it sticks

If it doesn’t, to hell with it

I loved it once and I’ll love it again

The mystery outlining the sequence in these circumstances

Take from me the doubt that draws out the worst

The ways we rehearse the thirst and how to quench it

Honesty is the best policy

But I’ll never police you on that

Spin a web weak enough to go on but

Strong enough to feel it

I’ve missed a lot but there’s a lot still to see

If we stop dwelling on the reasons to be still

Instead of the hope that keeps legs running

Blood pumping and

The future stunning

[ecrisettaistoi]

Râ le bol

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Le soleil est comme le bonheur

en ce moment,

il se fait rare, on l'attend.

On ne l'entrevoit qu'à de rares

occasions,

sourire qui s'envole, maladroit,

lourd et glacé, il retombe en miettes

d'eau acérées

sur les langues bitumées.

Le soleil est comme le bonheur,

il ne pointe pas

sous le tissu.

Le soleil et le bonheur

sont absents

pour le moment.

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[milkymarble]

collection

[whateverwhimsy]

Roaring 20s

We cut out our throats, silencing perfect dreams for delirious truths. Nothing's ever new under the sun. Pick your poisons and steady your heartbeats, peace isn't free it's only fleeting - Foraging, we fight for unclaimed ground as all we know how to do now is selfishly take. Was there ever a time when the world could wait?

[divyawritespoems]

It would have been the most classier comebacks of the wings that lost their way back home. Imagine how happy the trees will be to swing and speed up your pace. How beautifully the rose petals will show their pearls off after the first rain and how bloomingly they will shed themselves to cheer you up. How swiftly will the cool air touch your skin and kiss you a welcome. How happy the universe will be to align your stars back to new positions. How alive you'll be once you hug yourself and sing yourself a homecoming song for minutes. How happy you'll feel to be back in your skin? How healed you'll be? How relieved you'll be?

-Divya

[bishopknight0517]

Soldier

I will never waver or falter in the face of horror

The Devil disguised as a father, a terrific torture

Calling me his son before whiplashing my soul with his forked tongue

You’ll never be good enough, you’re too pathetic to find love!

A tap that was supposed to be for love, hit me like he held a grudge

The next thing I know I’m pulled into a different man, a fatherly figure

Extreme mood swings bouncing up and down like a flipper

A hand always on a whiskey bottle or beer

Disregarding everything he should dear

A tear leaves my eye but evaporates before it hits the floor

A soldier has no time to cry even if the pain hits him in his core

A few years later, no longer a child but not quite a man

The weld holding my brain together starts to break instead of bend

Dad becoming more violent

Mom getting more reluctant

Afraid to step in when Charlie’s brother, Jack, calls the Devil down to Florida

Hiding in the corner of the closet, waiting for the

Silence, as I hold my breath

Scared to fucking death

The feeling like a hand around my throat

A greasy, slippery slope

Seeing the heat on her cheek, ignites a fire within me

Her tears only adding to the flames that I see

Yet all of the tears that leave my eyes evaporate before they reach the floor

A soldier has no time to cry even if the pain hits him to his core

Sharp words lodge inside of my lungs

Mom screaming that I shouldn’t have stabbed dad 37 times for fun

I don’t regret my actions

Even if my mind is in fractions

The Devil changing his host

As I dump my Father off the coast

Goddamn that old man, acting like never could do anything wrong