[Official] Share and discuss your amateur poetry and stories.

 Anonymous (@)9 years, 3 months ago

I recently wanted to challenge myself, so I decided to try my hand at poetry. Since I’ve written a few poems, I’ve really wanted to get some kind of feedback, I’m not sure if they suck or not. So I’m creating this discussion in the hopes people will share their amateur poetry and stories. Only constructive criticisms guys, not everyone is literary genius. I’ll share a poem, if you want to here another of mine, just ask.

An Explorers Ode to Earth

As I see her from afar,
I obtain an inkling of who we are,
Here I sit in this frigid waste,
As if running from her warm embrace,
Just as children must move from home,
Here we travel deep into the unknown.

By- imhotep

June 2, 2012 at 3:41 pm
josephm (772) (@josephm) 8 years, 2 months ago ago

unconscious perception slave-like deception revolving world of non accepting, back hand inception, blast off intentions, fast track potential, inspire friends Yo. artist are not pretend flow. snatch souls~black-hole this world with a chemical end zone.

wizard swaggin, the ring inhabiting, normal shattering, mindfully patterned babbling elevates state of conscious fathoming.

Tanee (0) (@ambereyes) 8 years, 2 months ago ago

@josephm, amazing, I do like your style. please share more. :)

[Cherry Blossom Music]

Like the petals of cherry blossoms fluttering in the wind,
the song playing from an old radio box perch on an empty chair.
I think of my life unfolding in a timeline storybook,
My fingers softly run over the piano keys one by one,
Each notes struck a cord in a part of my body.
The warm kiss of the sun ray touch my skin,
Here in this hidden garden of my made up paradise, close to my heart.
Ocean waves crashing against jagged rocks whisper secrets,
Fallen petals dancing in the air as it slowly touch the ground.
I quietly hum a song resonance deep in my soul,
Pages of written poetry scribbled here and there.
Inks splash lines after lines with words,
My soul singing in tune to the music of my heart.

josephm (772) (@josephm) 8 years, 2 months ago ago

@ambereyes, <3

directional intention control, manifest congestion in this lull. artistic expression creates precedent; living in the present represents mindful residents.

bigmac22 (26) (@bigmac22) 8 years, 2 months ago ago

It was only yesterday when last we spoke,
Heartwrenching pain I cannot name,
Questions yet, unanswered when last I woke,
Sometimes I feel like I am all to blame.

It was only yesterday, I swear it was,
But memories still haunt my dreams,
Am I obsessed, is that the cause,
As I meditate by mountain streams?

It was four years ago, when last we spoke.
Four years have passed since yesterday,
Four years of less substance than smoke,
Dear God, give me patience I pray.

wrote this some time ago, and it speaks for itsself. but, i am interested in what other people think of it :)

Anonymous (359) (@) 8 years, 2 months ago ago

My mother fucks with my soul.
She wants to claim me.
I want to claim her.
We have different streams.
Yet my river sprung from hers.
And it all leads to the same ocean.

Kripi (313) (@kripimehra97) 8 years, 2 months ago ago

Fly With The Magic Wings You Have
Yes! we don’t know exactly
What we are
Saying factly ….
Greater people we are
Life is like a wave
Just like the crests and troughs
We are like a slave
Just like a gruff

Yes! Till We don’t fly
With the magic wings we have

We have just forgot
About those wings
Which are like the springs
With which we would jump higher’
Yes! we would be flier’

Yes! fly with the wings you have
Make yourself suave
Just fly with the wings you have
Just do ave
Of your wonderful ability
Fly with the magic wings you have


Tanee (0) (@ambereyes) 8 years, 2 months ago ago

dust off the worn old pages from a book,
slowly remembering memories of the past.
words lost in the emptiness among stars,
flooded emotion came crashing down.
precious notes filled each pages to the corner,
lullably singing to a song my heart long forgotten.
battles of different wars were fought fiercely,
recorded to which only few could understand.
understand back then she was just wandering,
armors gleam brightly like a foolish clown.
now all that were polish clear as a mirrior,
have turn into dirty broken pieces of armors.
deepest ache never was spoken out loud,
each words unwinding like a clock.
quiet down my beating heart as it race to catch up,
letting go of the pages from my finger tips.

Anonymous (328) (@) 8 years, 2 months ago ago

Potent ideas cleaned and scraped, answers are for those who keep
A tradition held so dear
A repetition wrought in fear
A message with no handler
A beneficiary kneels to weep
Trembling shoulders in a familiar plane, a jester needs a place to sleep

Anonymous (2,833) (@) 8 years, 2 months ago ago

Well theres this thing you see,
Much like a tree
It grows and grows
And tickles my nose
And never, ever stops.

But this thing, you see
Its made for you and me
And surrounds us all the day
Its here and there,
And everywhere…
You’ll see this soon enough

Just drop the book,
And take a look –
And feel the bliss abound

It smells so sweet,
Like rain damp streets,
In summer\
And in bloom

Mmmm yeah. smells good.

Kripi (313) (@kripimehra97) 8 years, 2 months ago ago


I Promise That I Will Show You
The place over the horizon
Which you haven’t seen yet
I promise that i will show you

The glacier near the heaven
Lovely vision of the sky
Full of clouds
Full of glitter
Which you haven’t seen yet
I promise that i will show you

The flowing waterfall
Full of nectar
At the lake of the leal
Which you haven’t seen yet
I promise that i will show you

The dancing stars and moon
In the gorgeous sky
Near the Eden
With the beauty and beat
Which you haven’t seen yet
I promise that i will show you

josephm (772) (@josephm) 8 years, 2 months ago ago

lion mentality rebirth’s normality to shed abnormal fallacy. sacred friends grow factually.~ crystallized energy focused to rapture-we. star’s see, blunt trauma unleashed.

Anonymous (359) (@) 8 years, 2 months ago ago

Instinctual independence
inspires intelligence
and invents intuition,
Fulfilling the faith that was forged
from feelings of fantasy.
Presenting pleasure
as precious power,
and the artistry of adoring awareness.
Knowledge brings kindness brings kinship.

I need a time out.

Pippa (95) (@sweetdreams) 8 years, 2 months ago ago

I am really not good at poetry but here goes,

Demons run when a goodman goes to war

Night will fall.
The sun will drown,
like a candle blown out.
When a goodman goes

Friendship dies,
and true love lies.
While destiny cries for help.
When a goodman goes to war.

Demons run,
but at a cost.
The battle won,
but a goodman lost.

ut at a

Pippa (95) (@sweetdreams) 8 years, 2 months ago ago

Sorry ignore that part at the end, shouldn’t be a writer or a proof reader.

ross (76) (@theboss7607) 8 years, 2 months ago ago

Feeling love so pure I push away
I am not worthy and what of others
Is what i say
A gleaming light that transcends words
Illuminating the darkest parts of my mind light a flash light in a cave
Beams of knowledge, understanding, and infinite compassion
Oh how great the universe is !

Anonymous (2,833) (@) 8 years, 2 months ago ago

“Here lies Greg Johnson”, no, too mundane. “The legend -” no, too extreme. Greg Johnson, 1964-2011. That will have to do. ” These were Greg’s thoughts on his first hour of his last day alive. A cold room, clammy and filled with noise from the afar cells, he sat, amazingly calm, on his broken mattress bed. It was 6am, an early hour, he thought it would be nice to perhaps see the sunrise through a window, the only window in the corridor. Unfortunately that window faced north, he hadn’t realized that till today. Today, Greg is to be put to death for his crimes against humanity; a murderer, a drunk, a substance abuser.
The air was thick today, and it seemed the sounds from the inmates were amplified. Everything seemed more real; edges were sharper, people seemed more truthful, life seemed to have transformed over night. He accepted a last meal, and ate it without taste, without feeling, all the while thinking what it would be like to sit outside one last time, maybe lay down in a field somewhere in the Midwest, not a soul around but the fresh breeze. He thought about picking an apple from a forgotten farm, or eating a home-made sandwich by a trickling river bed. Blue skies, puffy white clouds, birds singing to him.
“Alright, Greg, let’s go.” The guard yelled, stripping Greg’s dreams away like a splash of mineral spirits on a priceless oil painting. Suddenly it dawned on him how much he needed to experience that soft fresh air once more, and a panic arose in him. He franticly and illogically looked to the windows for escape, a fire exit, something. His mind slowed, and his prison-rationale returned to him. Greg had always been anxious, nervous, stressed, which is probably why he was here in the first place, but prison seemed to dull his anxiety. He learned to double check his thoughts, make sure he was being “real”. He arose, and slowly walked out the cafeteria door, followed by two guardsmen and a man in a robe, holding a bible. The time allowed for 17 more minutes of life. A time so fragile anything could break it, a time so feeble, nothing mattered. Greg felt as if he could go mad, incredibly mad for the last 17 minutes of his life and not a soul would remember, not a person would care.
This was the shortest amount of time left, but weighed out to be the longest. Greg’s thoughts cascaded from childhood to school to family, friends, life, but stopped before prison. That sweet meadow and breeze filled his mind once more, and he found himself being put into the chair. The room became a field of grass, pollen and the smell of distant flowers made a warmth rise within him. Fluffy cumulus clouds broke through the ceiling, birds were flocking through the window, the guards slowly muffled out of reality and Greg found himself completely alone in a beautiful place. He walked over to a large shady tree, placed his back against the bark, and shut his eyes.

josephm (772) (@josephm) 8 years, 2 months ago ago

recommend truth in our land of fuck you’s and boo hoo’s. our spirit soothes. imprisoned mind’s trying to be kind but held behind with invisible attire, rooting them to the ground until they are sure they want to live real life;blinded by karmic sight. trudge through fear based blight, around this corner control your inner soldier. bold soul’s impend heaven with creative weapons of visionary projection, insertion of digital dimensions. planetary essence, feel the presence.

Man of the Future (108) (@Man-of-the-Future) 8 years, 2 months ago ago

Weight of the World

The only way to beat the system is to have another,
One that’s better than the one were under,
We need to come together and figure it out,
Stop worrying about the afterlife focus on the now,
Here today in the present people starve,
While we worship and adore these stars,
Modern day Gods that do nothing for us,
They live comfortably while we fight and fuss,
Over stupid stuff like stepped on jays,
Getting made over a show with another persons name,
Shoot a nigga dead for a material item,
Those animalistic urges we must fight them,
Instead of fighting ourselves within this collisium,
While the upper class looks down at us from Elysium,
Sometimes I doubt if what I say is truly true,
Then I remember how depressed I get worried about you,

Emily Irene (65) (@RawPhoenix) 8 years, 2 months ago ago

I want to see everything inside you.
I want access to the deepest pits of your soul,
the parts you think are so insane,
the parts you loathe
and pretend don’t exist most days,
only to write about them at 4 am
to try to make sense of the volume they speak at.

See, I am the same.
I do my best to shove the dark sides
deeper and deeper
so the ones who love me
need never see them.
I worry if the pieces are buried deep enough,
or whether they’re peeking out of me,
trying to make themselves known to someone.

It takes two people so very alike
to recognize this in each other.
I was never so proud to feel broken
as I was when our secret pieces collided.

Anonymous (359) (@) 8 years, 2 months ago ago

pin me ill spin you- us two
solo cue arks duality
generation sensuality
the one and fucking only it seems
the nightmare of my dreams
royal seams house the mist
mesmerizing gist

get pissed
but throw down the hit list
keep the abyss to yourself
abundant health
sink wealthy

just keep plugging through and soon you’ll know exactly what to do

i flip space in your case, ride on your shoulders
make it possible to bolt the folders
AND keep your holders


Be The Flow (0) (@jkReelChief) 8 years, 2 months ago ago


This is a short song I wrote called 20/20 Blind
Many themes going on here. Its up to your interpretation.


And a flash goes off in my mind
Just the neurons firing
As I paint the clouds which canvas the sky

Billions of flashes go off in my mind
Just the neurons firing
As I break out a creative vibe

A cloud to a dream to any object or being
Millions in the sky at the same time
Paint a story or sing a beat
Expression projections onto this world we find
That life is incomplete without the mind
So fill up those gaps and see with a heart
Live like a child cause this world is ours
Control mind’s eye is strong
Paint a mystical creature on the clouds above

And more flashes go off in my mind
Just the neurons firing
As I create this world I believe and find

As billions more connect in my mind
Just the neurons firing
As I escape the troubles of time

A brush to the paint to the canvas restlessly resting
Capturing emotions that we are feeling
Record a story of your believing
Cause what we believe we live and see
We fight for and become, you see
What you see is what you believe
When you see with your mind

With perfect vision
Cant you see?
Can you see?
Not just a cloud
But a canvas of beliefs

Close your eyes.

Joe (10) (@justsomeguy) 8 years, 2 months ago ago

Static Memories
I have a photo album up there in the attic,
Next to old toys and a radio that plays only static.
In the album there are pages filled with my past,
Snippets of memories that remind me how life goes fast.
Near the back, though, there are still pages unfilled,
Empty white slots waiting to house moments yet to come.

Anonymous (359) (@) 8 years, 2 months ago ago

The well exists timelessly, listless.
Then there’s me, systematic and gasping for space.
Please, let me make my lists and clock my twists.
If my life is mine, the dirtiest theft is to steal my I.
Will love your eyes and you’ll love mine.
Me between We.

josephm (772) (@josephm) 8 years, 2 months ago ago

get rich flying high frying. mindful rhymes emit rays of sunshine to blind evil lies with a murderous demise. mycelium network infests modern designs. sacred hippies flip first prize to open eyes, enter the timeless cosmic shine. life-time of crime. fine. but morality is the vine, immortality the find. primed state’s of mind, dharma attaining shrines, universal enzymes conscious of no end of time. ceilings blasted open, meta-cannon mime. galactic judgement felt from the beyond. deep with-in our soul’s connect the one.

JStewart (1) (@jamaalabdulstewart) 8 years, 2 months ago ago

Here’s a very short poem

“The Window of Opportunity”

but I carried
a brick

load more