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tommy profile picture
Poetry Automated Taglist!
by tommy
Last post
 February 18th
...See more Welcome to the Poetry Taglist This thread is an auto-updating list. The list is regularly updated by forum leaders and can be found below. Having issues? Reply below and someone will help you! Why should I join the taglist? ✔ Never miss out on sub-community check-ins, discussions or events ✔ Get tagged and notified by community leaders whenever a new relevant thread has been posted ✔ Become a more active member of the community. What do I need to do? ✅ To add yourself to this taglist, press the Post to Thread button below and write the exact words Please add me. ❌ To remove yourself from this taglist, press the Post to Thread button below and write the exact words Please remove me. ------------------------- Current taglist as of 21 Sept  (updated by @ComradeRuhi) @burningRain127 @HarmonyBlossom @HatsEatYou @HealingTalk @juliak1968 @LoveMyMoonflowers @Rareshadow666 @ShySmiler @tommy @Torean @YourCaringConfidant @mytwistedsoul @nessapressure05 @sadcat13 @MunchkinBerry @limegreenKiwi7397 @incredibleRainbows2036 @Est3lle @BelovedMe @unassumingEyes @iloveyouxx @enthusiasticBeach8170 @WondersWhispers @Redpanda2419 @peachPear727 @Fallenstar24
NicoRose profile picture
a sad quote
by NicoRose
Last post
 6 hours ago
...See more hello i drew a page in my book and was wondering if someone could help me with poetry to write on the page
azurePond profile picture
Taxidermy
by azurePond
Last post
 12 hours ago
...See more This is a work of fiction. TW: psychological abuse . . . The tablecloth bleached to bone, her hands a pendulum of salt and pepper. Outside dusk stitches the sky to the horizon— First, you make the incision, she says, lifting a spoon, tracing its curve like a scalpel. Clean. Unhurried. The soup steams between us, a broth of parsnip and something darker. Her voice, a museum placard: My great-grandfather’s hobby was taxidermy— to unpeel life without bruising the skin, stuff absence back into the shape of motion. Her knife finds the butter. Splits it. Gently. A muted conquest in an era of brutal ones. In his time, every beast had its place— on a plaque, behind glass, never alive. She speaks in labeled boxes: Rattlesnake. Sparrow. Wren. Every ‘r’ sewed back to its lifeless body. Formaldehyde and patience. You’d be surprised what stays soft if handled with cold intent. A pause. Her eyes glide over my wrists, my throat— You’d look good like that, she offers, blade hovering mid-air, a silver thread in the amber light Obsidian eyes glass-bright. Pose permanent. Her smile, a needle’s edge Have you ever thought about it? The clock swallows its ticks. My napkin crumples to a fist. Speak of what you saw, she murmurs softly, sawing her steak into perfect, red cubes, and you’ll join his collection. Her fork tines gleam. Somewhere, a moth taps at the window begging to be let in, or out.
ZenArashi profile picture
The Awakening of Briar Rose
by ZenArashi
Last post
 12 hours ago
...See more Beneath a sky, worn thin with night,   A thorned crown glimmers, Her slumber, a war-torn sea,   Drowned in the storm of memory. The prince arrives,   His sword of light illuminates,   Yet her lashes never flutter,   Her breath still caught in the rift.   The battle rages,   Between what was, and what is, Her mind a mirror, cracked,   Where ghosts flicker in the glass. Is this the end,   Or is this just the start,   To wake, but not forget,   To reclaim a fractured heart? As the thorns tremble,   Cracked by the roots of hope,   She rises,    No longer waiting for a prince,   A dame of her own story. And in the breaking of that quiet,   The nightmare recedes,   Not gone, but healed in pieces,   The roses blooming beneath her feet,   A garden woven from her scars.
BastionKnight profile picture
I am sure I will regret this.
by BastionKnight
Last post
 16 hours ago
...See more I wrote a poem that I will not share. Fingers froze before it was uploaded. Just a tiny fragment of soft despair Shown briefly till confidence eroded. It is discarded, no evidence left. The emotions put back inside their cage. No outward sign betrays I am bereft. No-one looking for what goes on backstage. These words are not the ones that I wrote then. Yet even these burn and reek of defeat. Hide and seek played out again and again. Reaching out but stepping back in retreat. When I compare to others I feel shame, I should espouse hope, yet lately have none. Holding on feels like trying to grasp flame. Luckily this rubbish rhyme is near done. I wrote a poem I wish you had read. With this I offer excuses instead.
selfdisciplinedLion4579 profile picture
A Silence That Never ends
by selfdisciplinedLion4579
Last post
 18 hours ago
...See more I’m not sure if I should post this on this forum. A Dream of Rest That Never Comes Pain—Not that which bruises flesh nor cuts beneath, Not the wounds that mend with time. Nay, that pain I know well, can see, can name, can press a hand upon and say, here, this is where it hurts. But this—this pain inside my head and in my chest unseen. It coils in the hollows of my ribs, It sinks into the marrow of my bones, A weight, I cannot lift. A wound, I cannot name.  And so, I wait. For the touch of warmth, a voice that whispers, "I see thy pain." For a light to fill the cracks, for a hand to reach through the dark and pulls me free.  But the silence answers in its place.  It is not empty. Nay, it is full— so full it crushes me beneath its weight. Thickens the air I breath, clings onto my skin, presses into my throat like hands, unseen. It has form, has teeth, has hunger. And it is patient.  It does not rage, does not weep— Simply waits, endless and knowing. It pulls me under, Encircles my throat, soft as a lullaby, merciless as the tide.  It knows my name. It knows how long I have wandered, how long I have waited for something to change. And so, it whispers—  "Why wait any longer?"  And so, I wonder— if I let go, if I slip beneath the quiet, Would the weight finally ease? Would the hush embrace me whole, And take me where the waiting ends?  And so, I begin to count the ways. A blade, sharp and certain, a rope, gentle in its promise, a fall, swift and final. Each one a door. Each one an escape. Each one whispering, “Come, rest.”  And the doors—oh, oh, how they call to me.  They neither creak nor groan in warning. They stand open, waiting, beckoning, edges gilded in silver light, thresholds soft as a lover’s arms.  "Come" they whisper, "Feel the peace, the hush, the ease. No more weight. No more waiting."  I turn my head to look away. The silence stops me, not. Nor beg me to stay. It only watches, as if to say, “I already know how this story ends.”  I part my lips and begin a plea— to scream, to beg, to call for help— but no sounds come. No one listening.  No one ever was.  So, I dream. I dream of a voice cutting through the hush, of footsteps in the distance drawing near. I dream of hands closing around mine, of the silence shattering at last. I dream of hope.  But the dawn draws nigh, and the dream wanes, slipping through my fingers like mist. And the silence remains, settling into my bones, pressing into my ribs until I am hollow.  It hums now. Low, steady, certain. Not cruel, not kind—just there, a presence I cannot shake, a shadow I cannot outrun.  And so, I wait again. For hope. For light. For something. But nothing comes. And the doors stand open, soft and waiting, whispering sweet lullabies, pulling me closer, closer. And the silence waits. And I do not know how much longer I can endure.
suu1309 profile picture
why did you rest rabbit? the race was the only thing they loved about you.
by suu1309
Last post
 18 hours ago
...See more "your overconfidence made the tortoise win" the rabbit's ears buzzed with their words and so, it wondered was it pride that caused him to pause,  or the weight of running a race he never had the choice to refuse? was he chasing a breath that had left him long ago?  like a candle still burning but melting its core. or maybe something else but does it really matter anymore? they carved his name in motion, but never asked if he wanted to move so he sprinted, he ran, he never looked back for they told him who he was, before he even had the chance to ask. tell me, is it silly to want to rest? tell me, for he didn't win, will he still belong? "slow and steady wins the race" but the tortoise never ran to win he walked a path that was his alone, never weighed down by the hunger to be first. no cheers, no pressure, no one reminding him that he must win for he was born to. no finish line that burned if he walked instead, no story to tell if the rabbit hadn’t bled. the rabbit, oh, they hung medals like a leash on his throat, called it his crown, called it his hope but the day he rested, they asked why he left them behind, never cared about what was trapped in his mind. they told him, he was made for the run, that to stop was to disappoint. that to stop was to be forgotten. so run, rabbit, run get up, don't rest, run run away or they'll curse you of being ordinary run away for stillness is not a part of your story. run till you bleed, they don't care you're tired  the moment you stop, you're nothing but expired. don’t slow down, they only love those who obey. run till you reach the finish line and look, it's still a long way.  but what if the finish line is never the end, but just the place where they stopped watching? and if love waits only at the finish line's view, then tell me, was it ever even true?
wakeupandbeblessed profile picture
Poetry
by wakeupandbeblessed
Last post
 20 hours ago
...See more I absolute love short poems with deep meanings..please share below to uplift my day❤️
cocosand profile picture
Caged Rage and Shadowed Tears
by cocosand
Last post
 2 days ago
...See more How dreadful is this rage, Like my eyes closed in a cage. Love and violence—an uneasy pair, A mystery, a shadow, a lingering despair. A battle rages within my soul, Aggression swallowing what once was whole. Simplest pleasure in deepest pain, Harmony lost in a feral refrain. In the eyes, unshed tears reside, A heart that fought, but now must hide. Was he the one, the home I knew? Now just a ghost I wander through. Decisions firm, but hearts still break, Promises shattered, the soul's mistake. Brutality blooms where love once grew, A cage of rage I can't break through.
suu1309 profile picture
the bagpack is heavy.
by suu1309
Last post
 2 days ago
...See more the bagpack feels heavier, a thought steals the light  "my woes drag us down" it whispers at night  they say you aren't heavy, they say you aren't pain  but i see the effort, the strain and the gain  to carry someone who feels like a stone  to hold a hand that lives to be lone.  i, a wilting vine that twines too tight  who saps the sun and dims your light  you search for a flower, a reason to stay  but find only sand, slipping all the reasons away.  each social tether, a pull on the soul  yearning for respite to make oneself whole  is isolation an answer to flight from a fray?  do problems left silent simply melt away?
CyberNymph7 profile picture
Beginner
by CyberNymph7
Last post
 2 days ago
...See more Hi everyone! Does anyone have any tips on where to begin with writing poetry? I used to love writing but I became pretty depressed and quit. It's something that I'd love to pick up again and I thought, "why not start with poetry?" Any advice is appreciated, thank you! ^.^
azurePond profile picture
If I Had Never Been Born
by azurePond
Last post
 2 days ago
...See more (Content warning: Intense themes as suggested by the title) . . . If I had never been born– The coffee pot would still hum, The dishes would stack in quiet rows, People would smile, still fight, Still lost in their own rhythms. Perhaps their laughter would ring truer, Their nights lighter, Without the burden of my presence. They’d have been better off, In ways they’ll never say. I’d be an email in the spam folder, A request that never reached the desk, Forever absent, A speck of dust on a moth-eaten book, A step you skipped in a hurry Unnoticed. Maybe it would be better, Maybe not. But the universe spins regardless, In its reckless, unfeeling dance, Leaving me here, Still breathing, Wondering if the world would have been kinder If I had never been born, Or if it would have simply carried on, Like a plot in a book With worn-out tropes. And yet, here I am, A footnote in this infinite story, Waiting…
The1NOnlyVenus profile picture
Emmett/Venus’ little pond 🐸 🌊 🦖
by The1NOnlyVenus
Last post
 2 days ago
...See more Helloooo!! 🦖 here’s where I’m going to post my poems, art (maybe), or any random thoughts I ever get, you’re welcome here as long as you’re moral and non offensive in any way, ⭐️⭐️⭐️ infinite cookies and cake source! ⬇️ 🍪🍰🍪🍰🍪🍰🍪🍰🍪🍰🍪🍰🍪🍰🍪🍰🍪🍰🍪🍰🍪🍰🍪🍰🍪🍰🍪🍰🍪🍰🍪🍰 x♾️

Poetry

Welcome to Poetry! This supportive place for you to share everything and anything related to Poetry.


What are the different forum topics for Poetry?

Community Space: A place for icebreakers, introductions, discussions and community check-ins.

Poetry Through Art: Write your own poetry based off of artwork!

Emotive Poetry: A safe place for poetry that contain trigger warnings.

Poetry Editing: Gain feedback and learn to write more professionally.

Poetry Prompts: Suggest a prompt or write a poem based on a given one!

Your Poetry: A general place to put all of your poetry! This is the place to post if you would like to share your OWN writing! 


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