Ready to submit but wondering where? Wonder no more. We have five great suggestions for you—journals made with love that are friendly to emerging poets. All the entries on our list have no required fees and are open to simultaneous submissions. If you’re in a hurry, make sure to check out our list of great places to submit your poetry if you hate to wait.
- Thrush Poetry – is looking for poems of up to one page with strong imagery, emotion, and with interesting use of language. They nominate for most major prizes, anthologies and awards; they try to respond to all submissions within 10 days of receipt, and they provide feedback on submissions whenever possible. We love these guys!
- Rust+Moth – is open for submissions year-round and publish poems online as they accept them. Four times a year they gather the poems published on their site into collections, which are made available in print as well as online. They pride themselves on their quick turnaround time (a rare and valuable quality in a lit mag) and they nominate for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net.
- Dime Show Review – this journal also made our flash fiction list (they take short stories too). They publish online and in print and they nominate for the Pushcart Prize. If your poem is accepted, there’s a chance you may also be selected for audio publication—a cool perk.
- Yes, Poetry – includes three poets per quarterly issue along with interviews with each poet. They also regularly publish poems between issues, including a series called #NotTrump. We say yes!
- SOFTBLOW – this international journal has been around since 2004 and only does poetry, including prose poetry. They feature a handful of new poets on their website every month. They generally respond within a few weeks and often within days of submission.
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One of the best latest website for poets and writers is https://ryfma.com, awesome design!
Last night the devil came to me
He said, you are lost but I can make
you free
But he wanted my body and not my soul
can you believe that!
What an asshole!
Great tips — I knew only Thrush, but will try the others–nice to have the international view. Thank you!
I want to fly high;
Without any sigh,
I want to conquer my dreams;
Without any complex dreams;
I want to experience peace;
Without any materialistic piece,
I want to be joyful;
Without any change that is hurtful,
I want to be me;
Without any perfection that the world wants to be.
– all I want is this.
On the African site
It is a warm country because of it many cultures
It’s powerful than ever
It is a loving country
With infinite love which is
Unconditional
I am an IWP participant of Iowa.I live in Kathmandu,Nepal where people are more conscious in creative activities.My inspiration is my father who wrote and published more than 50 books in different genres of literature, in his life time.But my writing is rushing far enough from his due to time factor.I write especially poetry and fiction and have published 17 books altogether(poetry/fiction/drama/combined fictions).When I found this website in searching the activities in poetry in global level I was extremely excited.We the writers have become universal and so I am happy knowing I am not alone in earth !
make me fly with you ,
to a place where no hellhound can find us,
a place full of blitheness .
where i do not need to escape from the reality ,
as my life with you will be full of gaiety .
Thanks for share this information.
Check out the Magazine Contest at Big Pond Rumours International Literary E-Zine. There are independent judges for both poetry and prose. For a $10 CDN submission fee you can submit up to 80 lines of poetry or a short fiction piece up to 3,500 words. 1st prize is $100 CDN and publication. 2nd prize id $50 CDN and publication. 3rd prize is publication and these three poems and three stories will be published in a special Contest section of the E-Zine. Deadline is December 15, 2018. We invite you to check out the website and the current issue of the magazine or look at the archives.
Hello! I just would like to give a huge thumbs up for the great info you have here on this post. I will be coming back to your blog for more soon.
Please don’t. ugh just…. please don’t. Are bots writing these comments? ugh.
Our journal, South Broadway Ghost Society, http://www.soboghoso.org is always looking for new content as well!
Thank you for this article.
O heaven! the comfort zone of saints
You ‘re high above the earth
Your nature with here is ain’t
To sight you is speedily nudging forth.
Your abode cease to be for more
As everyone meant to be there not
Why? You have your law for explore
And few decide your worth.
That buldging lonely narrow
Seems to be your fate,
Only through which men can hallow
As a bulwark of your state.
To seek you scars the joy
And the faithful gets more hate
But your rubies worth the toil
And your Glory shuns the loathe.
I see the mountains covered in white and walk alone listening to the sound of life.
I feel the cold breeze touching my heart and the sun shining bright.
While the small animals pass by, the travelers fly way up high and the curious ones hide by.
Things were made so prefectly, yet how come we ruined what used to be?
Inside the train i lose my mind, lost in a place where i wish were mine.
I look to the strangers sitting on the other seats and think?
Who are they, what have they seen?
Do they also see the world like me?
Once upon a time, my dreams came true
everything feels like home
the sky touches my soul
as the wind passes through my face
oh, the silence of the night is a lust
the stars brought so much joy in my heart
the cool breeze went deep down my body
The peace is having sex with me.
I dont want this to end,
I want this to last,
i want you inside me so bad
please dont leave me soon…..
I have a collection of fifty poems,wondering where to publish.
Captive
Long, skinny, gaunt hands,
Trying to write after 20 years of captivity
How did you let yourself get kidnapped?
New York is the glowing sea that light up the whole country
I was 11
Care free, walking to the bus station
Friend by my side
Then sudden darkness,
No smell of fresh cut grass
No smell of my mom’s famous peanut butter chocolate cookies
I just woke up in a prison
i would like to go for yes poems but i am from another county so how will they interview me?
i have 22 poems and am only 18 years old. im from Africa, Zimbabwe and i need a platform to show my talent to the world.i am in high school but my heart is straight into poetry.i need help
Great Post thanks for sharing.
This one http://www.rattle.com is awesome too and includes a monthly work of art for poets to submit an ekphrastic poem on and also a weekly topical current event submittal request that ever runs. Also, Black Bough poetry is very new, but edition one had two poet laureates and it is likely worth getting involved early with this one 🙂
I work in Iraq and my wife writes me daily poems, I would really like to try and get them published somewhere for her, any advice would be gratefully received.
Poetry comes from those who have feeling..
They could be in love, been hurt or just healing.
For me it’s the love that I feel in my heart..
I knew on that night, I knew from the start.
Love at first sight or some call it fate..
That was the night when I met my soulmate
You’ve taught me a lot, how to love most of all
I opened my heart and I let myself fall..
I’m still falling baby..
This would be the first one in the book for me, I have many more like this.
i would like to go for yes poems but i am from another county so how will they interview me?
VERY GOOD POETRY MAGAZINE
teachers
if we are knife for a questions
you are a life for students
teachers
if we violent for success
you will show silent for success
teachers
we are object
you are our subject
teachers
i have my photo in banner
because you will show me manner
teachers
we are nation
you are our nation builder
teachers
i will start a letter from way
you will show me a way
md kaif
Good morning I am a 41 yr old male living in a residential home in Bradford called The Heather’s I have lived somewhat of a coloured life including
Coma, stroke, brain surgery, a stabbing incident, homelessness and unfortunately prison but I believe it is these adversities life throws towards us that in turn make us better people like chrysalis to butterfly I overcame these hurdles and in turn became a better person for it. I hope with some guidance I will publish my book entitled Mind over matter which I hope in turn could show people that there will always be light at the end of the tunnel and I believe my story proves this. I hope to write a book with a collection of my poems including art and poetry that relates to my past life thus showing people that you can climb that mountain and become a better person for it.
I would appreciate it greatly if you could contact me in the next 48 hrs and hopefully we could arrange a consultation to talk about me publishing my book entitled ‘Mind over Matter’ showing that life can throw us many an obstacle it is for us to tackle these obstacles and in turn becoming a better person for it. Feel free to call me at any time between 9 am – 5 pm to arrange a meeting to talk about my avenues as a writer.
yours thankfully
Daniel Hill
Sir,I am from Pakistan and I have composed a poem .The poems title is,King in Dream.I want to publish .please help me in this matter.Thanks
Some days I don’t even think about you
Other days I have a million questions
But I never utter them because I know I will never get an answer.
Some days you are the only thing on my mind
My curiosity gets the better of me and I find myself dreaming of what ifs
But then I crash back down to reality
Some days I need a warm embrace, or encouraging words
Just to help me through the day, but then I remember
That I don’t have that with you.
Some days are more important than others, wedding dress shopping
For instance, standing there crying on my own wishing for a person that I don’t know
To help me make the decision, but instead I am alone.
Some days I get jealous of people I don’t know when I see them with their mums
Is it wrong to want to share that experience if only for a day?
I don’t know why you didn’t want me, I never will
But some days it hurts, it hurts so bad the feeling of rejection
Follows me round, and I have never felt good enough for anyone
And that’s why I will always be alone
Some days are just harder than others
Laying in the dark,
staring at the ceiling,
Hoping that I’d fly,
Instead of feeling these feelings.
Looking at this now,I know it is different,
But different is good,Up until this moment.
I’m all knowing of my situation,
But instead of dealing with it,
i’m dealing my feelings,
They take one look on the card and see the horror,
But then they learn the lesson and it makes them better,
They tried to help me but I won’t let them in,
The door is locked and i’m not giving in.
After all is said and done,
I am destined to fall,
But until then I will carry it all.
Save Water
Free Verse Poem
We drink and use water,
Without knowing what it does,
What benefits it gives,
Water is around but has decreased,
Without knowing that the world is drying,
Before the leaves get crooked up as life,
We need to save water, to save our life,
Water helps everything,
As we need to help it too,
We do not need water just to drink and use,
We need it, to help it, so it can help us too.
http://www.poemtheart.com (Sarah Shahzad)
Oh Unai Emery you came into our club with hope.
Unfortunately you turned out to be a dope.
We all had high aspirations of you being a success,
But we ended up being a lot less.
It’s time for you to go Unai Emery
and leave us from our memory.
Illegitimate son I am what people would say
All to exclaim it clear my fear dismay
I have no money now what to do
Cannot I ask it of what we persue
I don’t like study’s how I exclaim
I could be denigrated I can’t proclaim
My parenting is faulty a matter to hush
Can’t I manifest it and can’t I fuss
People who does wrong cant tell their way
But it lies as if a fault that I have a way
I may love God but it is a matter to endure
No one often comes in front only thoughts I procure
I life certain subjects I love never get I that
Excessive crave I for it people may laugh
My love is taboo may feel of it I true
People would emancipate me for not to ensue
I want to be a good friend according to my thoughts
Find the same in manywhere but never one I got
I tried publishing a poem on medium, https://medium.com/@dr.david.h.akehurst/friendship-gods-way-b80887e04be3
But I don’t think that it is the right place to publish it…..anyone got a better suggestion?
I’ll try some of those in the article above.
You can also submit your poems to the Poetry Cooperative. Publish a poem there or send your submission for publication in the monthly Poetry Cooperative Magazine.
thank you so much for this beautiful post.
Great Post Thanks for sharing.
Thanks for a great post. Just in case anyone is looking for more places, let me tell you about the website I’ve set up. On the Poetry Cooperative website you can register for free and publish and promote your poems straight away. Paid member will get help promoting their work. Check it out and see.
You Are My Love
The day i met you,
My empty heart was full,
And the sadness from heart ,
Became the unwanted truth.
When i am tried,
You recharge me which your looks,
It is very strange feeling inside,
But you can’t see it
But when you open my heart
why is it always you
i am Sanjana. its my first time writing poem.So please guide me.
Golden illusion
I was brought with a cage,
To keep as a showcase.
I was happy I got a home,
Where I was treasured with my sole.
I was amused to see my kind fly,
Dreamed that one day even I would touch the sky.
I was in love in my golden cage, it was my pride
After all it made me looked luxurious and bright.
I became a dreamer as days passed by
Who knew I would be hurt by my own golden pride.
I was overjoyed, my wings have grown big enough to fly,
But I forgot there was gold between me and sky.
I flapped my wings wish for a miracle,
But nothing happened.
I was desperate to touch that sky, flapped my wings again,
But got wounded by my golden cage.
I saw a harsh reality
That I was fooled by my own fantasy.
I got to know my pride was in my flight,
Not in cage which stopped me to reach my heights.
I was starving to fly,
To make my wings touch the sky.
I imagine today, there is no cage in my way.
I am in my full spirits, to fly in the sky,
Cage has vanishes to dust and I fly to heavenly sky.
I am flying, making my fantasy to reality
Now I’m on my way to make danger my bestie.
Sanjana Sharma
How to publish my poem international poetry or your blog? Please me a suggestion along with send me some international poetry site name…
I write a poem for my mother please have a look
मेरी माँ
आंखो में जिसके प्यार रहे,
लबों पे हमेशा मन्नत ।
माँ की गोद के आगे,
क्या होगी जन्नत ।
माँ प्यार है , माँ शक्ति है ।
माँ पूजा है , माँ भक्ति है ।
माँ शंख है , माँ अज़ान है ।
माँ गीता है , माँ कुरान है ।
माँ शान है , माँ अभिमान है ।
माँ जान है , माँ पहचान है ।
माँ बलिदान है , माँ भगवान है ।
माँ में ही ये दुनिया है,
माँ में ही ब्रम्हाण्ड है ।
माँ ने लिखना सिखाया ,
माँ ने ही पढ़ना सिखाया ।
जिन्दगी की हर जंग से ,
माँ ने ही लड़ना सिखाया ।
माँ ने ही चलना सिखाया ,
चल के जो मै गिर गया ,
तो माँ ने ही सम्भल्ना सिखाया ।
सुर्य सा है तेज तुझमें ,
चांद सा सौंदर्य है ।
सितारों सी है चमक तुझमें ,
जल सा तुझमें धैर्य है ।
माँ वैद्य है , माँ हकीम है ,
माँ के बिना धुंधला सा ये जहान,
माँ से ही दुनिया ये रंगीन है ।
दिन भर माँ तू चलती है,
एक पल भी न आराम करे ।
बस मन मे सिर्फ अपने,
बच्चो के अरमान धरे ।
इतना जो तू चलती है
क्यों माँ तू न थकती है
ऐसी कौन सी शक्ति है
जो तू अपने अन्दर रखती है।
तुझमे ही सारे तीर्थ माँ,
तुझमें ही चारो धाम दिखे
तुझमें ही अल्लाह दिखते हैं
तुझमें ही बस भगवान दिखे।
माँ से उपर कोई न है ,
माँ ही है सर्वोपरि ।
माँ से जन्मे थे श्री राम,
माँ से जन्मे कृष्णा भी,
माँ से जन्मे हैं गुरु सब
माँ से जन्मे हैं सभी ।
“माँ तुझे नमन??”
“HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY♥️”
Written by
Parikshit Srivastava
We meet
We part
The memory still remains
The future awaits
By Jude Olaboboye
Gasham Najafzadeh
THE BATTLE, THE BOOT AND DEATH
War is an expression of feelings,
the song of the bullets an artistic style,
the soldiers a rapid succession of thoughts
and blood the fearsome silence of a minute.
I once looked at the boot
of a dead soldier,
still not cold inside.
It stood straight up
in remembrance of feet.
Boots are what tell us most
Of the death of a man.
That is why the wedding-ring
on the trigger-finger
begs the finger every time:
I implore you, please ,
don’t push me against the metal.
The soldier’s grief in the trenches
is best asked of the foot.
At times, the dirt sticking to the boot
is the mark of tension inside.
In a word, the boot
Is the most mournful picture
of the absence of a man.
A PARK
It is as this park
is a painting
hanging from the collar of the city.
The benches are green
and the people on them,
especially the young boys and grils,
are its forest dreams.
The winds of time have welded them
tightly onto the benches.
A woman has kept her balance,
holding her child by the hand.
Look! That gril, a student perhaps,
has held firmly on with two hands
to the thoughts in her heart
and remains standing.
The trees too still stand.
If you think about it
these trees were planted
with human looks.
The wind, an onlooker,
blows across the painting
and shakes the trees.
But the woman
holds her child tightly by the hand.
She wishes to go nowhere.
How sad that time
will one day
take the painting away
like a curator at an exhibition.
Gasham Najafzadeh Azeribajan
A great place for Poetry,Read the varied collection of poems here
http://www.hellopoetry,com
Respected sir/maam
,
I’m. Looking forward to get a publication for my Hindi poetry, novel and for stories.
Kindly let me know the right way to get a opportunity to publish my work.
Regards,
Aditi Singh Bhadauriya.
Looking forward an opportunity for my Hindi poetry, novel and stories.
Lost and Found
We chase our dreams,
and come a step closer.
We loose our comforts,
to discover lands foreign.
We keep moving forward,
and get lost in world maze.
We face our worst fears,
to keep learning new strengths.
We distance for adventure,
and come back to survive.
Darkness prevails everywhere,
No light, No door,
Just me & my mess,
Waiting for my demise to happen.
Mind playing tricks,
My body shuttering down like bricks.
Thousand lives have passed by
Still there is no hope to cure.
Closed my eyes
Waiting to float down to unknown,
When in came the flashes of Polaroids
Of you and me together.
All smiles, all euphoric moments we made
together,
All blues and black moments we shared together,
Dances before my eyes,
Just like it was yesterday.
We intertwined our pinkies,
And crossed our hearts,
That we will never leave each other,
Till our deaths drive us apart.
But here I’m
Waiting for my fall
When will apocalypse approach?
When will my tears subdue icicle?
What happened to our promise?
What happened to our ships?
Is it in its harbor?
Or am I too late to save it?
An epiphany dawned on me
Like a light dawns on shadow,
Its never too late to start a new thing,
Its never too late to revive it all.
I will be there with you, my dear,
I will never leave your hand again.
We will strive through life together,
We will meet its dead end together.
A door opens in the darkness,
I went through it
At once I saw you with me
At once, I saw Hiw beautiful my life is!
Would it be ok to try to publish in more than one? Or submit to all of them at the same time? Or is it best to focus on just one and see where it gets before trying another. I imagine some would prefer to be publishing things that haven’t been published elsewhere?
“One day, you’ll remember the girl who loved you so much that she forgot to love herself.
You’ll remember her when you wake up, when you eat, when you’re about to sleep. She will be your greatest nightmare.
You will be the one crying, and she will be gona far away forever and you will never be able to get her back that will be too late .
One day, you’ll regret losing her.
You lost the girl who truly loved you with open hands and heart.
You lost the girl who was just fighting for her love and you always took it wrong thought she is drama queen.
You lost her because of your ego and attitude and anger .
You always thought you are right she is wrong but all she was fighting for her love .
You lost the girl who stayed by your side even if you threw harsh words to her she still came back to you all time when ever what ever way .
You lost the girl who tried to understand you when she needed you most and you were not there but she still understood you despite having lots of pain in her life she always smiled.
You always thought she was strong to see what happening around her but to be honest you never seen pain inside her what how she was feeling.
You thought you can do anything and she smile at you but if she even say she will do you shouted at her.
You think about others happiness but she thought about yours.
You think she is happy but look closely to her into her eyes you will know how heavy her heart is but it will be too late she will be gona.
You will wait for her one day like she is doing now for you but it will be too late she will be gona forever so far.
You will realise one day what wrong you have done but it will be too late.
You think she is bossy a fighter but one day you will know she was not.
You thought she never understood you but she only know how she understood you and cared for you .
You think she never appreciated anything, but honestly she appreciated every seconds you spend with her.
You thought she dont know this and that but u will know one day but it will be too late
You know she knew always when u lied to her she fight for it but you always said you are wrong with your loud voice.
You know she knows very well you have feelings for her and love her but you always lie to her she knew it .
You know she feels shit in her life but still let it be because she dont want to loose you
You know that’s all she wants to tell you
You know she can write a book if she tells more about how she is and how she feels
You know she just want you be happy and enjoy your life
You know this is her story……
Jeet Kaur
Please check out my new Poem/Life blog – jack of all poets
Dear All,
A poem which I have composed on children for children to lift up everyone’s spirit in these corona Days. Plz publish it. BUDS ON THE EARTH…..
Buds on the Earth…..
Oh! Children you are the greatest gifts of God
Your cheers and charm bring the world to a smile
Your innocence teach us the value of a prized possession
You are the air on which the life breathe
The focus on which you have at home and school
Are the ones which we have to learn
Those days when we were you what you are today
With time all those die out from us
You play, hop, jump and run making yourself merry
You vibrate the surrounds with your gusto
Tree and plants, the moon and the sun, all watch you
The wind blows like a breeze to sneak into your spirits
Your mind is delightful and free from all worries
You are full of live and curiosity
You care for the birds and animals
You shed tears when the nature is at risk
Without you the parks and picnic spots are null and void
It is you who fill the space
When bird and planes fly above you
You glue your senses to see its sails
You have a bag full of interrogations
That make us swirl our senses
To find answers to your inquisitiveness
At times we fail and you win
There are so many things that we learn from you
Your love and spirit can never be questioned
We wish that we should not have grown
With lapse of time everything changes
There are ups and down in life
Seeing you the downs never let us down
You make us wake up from our fall
The energy and passion stem in us
Your lovely eyes are filled with adoration
Your words are full of innocence
You are the unfading buds
That adore the park of Heaven on the Earth.
-bps- ( binoj peethambarn Santhamma)
I want to enter as poet
Here is a few poet .
The Known & unknown ways!
we meet known & unknown people ,
some of them be a fruit full of life!
some of them provide the stigma of life!
If you have desire the sense of flower!
Then you have to ideas about prickles,
Flower can give you its sense.
But prickle not only will destroy your soul !
And also injure your whole life .
The way of heart, I am wondering here and there, Alone
There is no one in it to tell me the right way or goal !
I am wondering ,Alone, in the street of heard here and there,
without aim without goal,
At last, I will found Him,Whom I am wondering in the ways of hearts!!!
Oh Asghar Daghee.
Homology
Hit by a bullet
a man lies bleeding
precious fluids and cells
into the earth.
Hit my a meteor
a spaceship drifts, leaking
precious gases and people
into empty space.
Boghos L. Artinian MD
Cycling poems
………………………………………………
Col du Galibier
If soul and legs
find each other – small bliss
at great height
……………………………………………
Hoesberg Hill
So many wayside crosses –
in this Romish landscape
you never suffer alone
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
Passo dello Stelvio
With great legs
life is a climb
hors catégorie
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
Col du Glandon
Lonely slaving away
to the top – there is no end
to this fun
…………………………………………
Miel Vanstreels
Religion breeds superstition
Or Superstition leads the religion
Caught up with the thought so arcane
Hypothetical questions blowing mind like hurricane
Human created god!
Or God created human!
Anyone there to solve this mystery
From the archaic realms bundled in the history
Isn’t God just a belief?
Used for ulterior motives and self relief!
Isn’t religion just a ploy?
Spun and twisted to be pushed as a coy!
Superstition defies the act of science
The people loose all their astute and conscience
Religion couched in fore to divide and rule
Leaving people behind in race to compete like a mule.
Whom am I to vilipend?
People will use these till the end
Debate between religion and science will never finish
Beg your pardon if I made something to diminish.
Science without religion is lame
Religion without Science is blind
Both should propel with rational and logic
Else would be always be obscure and pelagic.
http://www.arunawasthy.com Blog with poems..please give the feedback as I am new to this poetry field
Thank you for the suggestions. I have always wanted to share my written works but never had the courage to.
I have managed to bring that courage and built a website to post my writings which is at http://myheartout2theworld.wordpress.com/. I am hoping that this will also inspire others to write and share their poetry.
There’s a young digital publication named Skrews that specializes in “dark” poetry. The main audience are amateur poets with a focus on resolving some of those more difficult moments of life we all go through from time to time. Submissions are free at the current time.
https://loose.skre.ws
Thank you for sharing these amazing platforms for a global audience.If interested in poetry,i would recommend visiting shreyaspoetry.blogspot.com
I’ll be awaiting feed backs in the comment section of my blog.Kindly respond.I’m sure you’ll love them.
Have a nice day 🙂
I have 2 short stories and 5 poems in stockpile. Could anyone guide me how I can publish them?
The chirping melody from so high a tree
makes my heart rhyme with the bird
The dusky faced sky began to cry,
the rain drops so heavy on earth.
It feels like cloudburst on my head.
Hope not to dream the feathers that drop,
but to raise the wings of silence.
The indecipherable tales that tell secrets
fills my dreams in vain!
I have 5 poems looking for a publisher please assist me.
SUCCESS
Life is a race,dont be tired.
Otherwise may people think that you are scared.
In life many challenges will come.
But,you have to solve the sum.
Many people will try you to loose.
So be ready and tight up your shoes.
Never think that I worked excess.
By doing these you will achieve Success
———————- Gaurav Nidhi
If you Focus on What you have done in yesterday You will never see tomorrow
(Azhar)
Hey
I’m a 15 year old girl who loves poetry and have written 70 poems so far but looking for a publisher can you please help
Before…..
I used to think you were so clever.
But now I’m not quite sure,
I still love you, I do!
Just not like I did before,
I knew that when loving you became a chore,
I would always end up crying on the floor,
With you slamming the back door,
And because of the, therefore,
I don’t love you like I did before.
She
She’s a kind of girl that makes you feel guilty
whenever you’ve don a mistake,
Whenever she wants you to let go
It feels like you have an ill,
Sometimes you don’t know what to feel
You just want to sit beside the lake
Saying that you will never let her go
Do you think she wanna hold still?
You don’t wanna loose everything
You wanna be with her while you’re living,
It will never die. Do you know what I mean?
Crying in pain, don’t want to think that she’s leaving
How could you hold still even if you’re in pain everytime?
Because you want to be with her all the time.
Don’t wanna waste the time with your own pain,
Because if you loose her, there will be a lot of rain.
Sometimes you’ve tried so hard to let her go
But suddenly you feel like you’re hurting your own ego
You wanna go but you very hate to leave her
Because it will murder your soul sooner.
Thirsty for the love that she gave to you in the old times,
knowing that she’s yours until the end of time
She’s a kind of girl that you wanted to be with her all the time
Even if your heart is bleeding all the time.
This crazy world is full of heartache
In spite of all the pain in you heart
You’re always putting her inside your heart
Because you believe that she’s the biggest part of your life.
Covid 19 “Who’s going to speak out?
First it came for my freedom, telling me I was not allowed out of my house unless it was for urgent supplies and I did not speak out because I thought it just for a short while
It came for hugs, cuddles and all social contact and I did nothing even though I could not cope with the desperate loneliness
It came for my family, stopping me from seeing my loved ones in different houses and I did not speak out because I thought I was keeping them safe
It came for our family wedding and funeral stopping us from attending and I did nothing because I was told to stay at home
It came for our children’s schools and education establishments and I did nothing because I was not a child or in education
It came for my job and I did not speak out because I thought I was doing the right thing
It came for my local shops shutting them all down and I did not speak out because I was told it could stop it spreading
It came for my theatres, cinemas, clubs, pubs and social venues and I did not speak out because I thought I was just for a short time
It came for my beliefs and I did not speak out because I thought the decision makers had everyone’s best interest at heart
It came for the money to furlough the workers, and I did not speak out because I did not want to think about where the government would borrow the money from
It came for the sick and the very elderly and I did not speak out because I was not sick or elderly
It came for the mental health of the most vulnerable and I did not speak out because the government kept saying we all had to isolate
It came for the young people and imprisoned them behind fences to keep them safe and I did nothing because I was not a young person
It came for my city to enforce testing and I did not speak out because I thought the army were actually just trying to help people
It came for my country and I did nothing because who am I, I’m just one individual and the decision makers are better placed to make informed decisions.
It came for Remembrance Day and I stopped me attending the memorial, but I determined in my heart that I would ‘not go gentle into that good night’, I would find my own way to remember.
Then it came for me and I realised I should have said something earlier as there was no one left to speak out for me
by ‘Day Remembrance’ on November 11th 2020 inspired by Martin Niemöller and Dylan Thomas
Beauty’s rose!
Oh! The rose of a rose!
Decorated decoratively!
And elegantly
with a smell of a smile that makes you call angel flower!
who becomes a blue flower,
Light up life,
Of amazing!
wow, how attractive she is!
believer! God willed it!
Written by kaissoune Ali Souf a guy simple,
from Comoros island live in India!
In October /2019
I am 77 years old and have been writing poems for many years. All the family weddings and special events get a poem. My family and friends are encouraging me to do something with them. They are whimsical rhymes about animals etc., Wish was an artist that I could draw something to go with them.
What do I have to do to get them to you so you could read and evaluate them to see if they are worth doing anything about. Would love to get a collection together for my family for them to keep.
If you could help guide me through this process I would be very grateful.
Thanks, Sincerely, Margery B. Evans.
Innocent think of her as too innocent
A pure soul holding no sins of its own
She meets a boy that was set by her friends telling her it a “coincident”
Where he slowly drags his hands through her backbone
Sums up the relationship with; “it was a game”
Meets another that was serious about her
Though she was numb and just wanted attention, left him, she feels shame,
shame drove her to a treacherous road, where love was nothing but “blur”
years pass by, and so does her recklessness, she grew into her mature self
meets the boy she was serious about, when at the beginning she was like another to him
tables turn and love flew his way, but “I don’t deserve him” she murmurs to herself
runes away with the excuse of boredom and freedom, little did she know of the wounds she opened for him
she feels pain believing only nicotine can cure, as normal
when in reality her lungs go through the pain she put her emotions through with no lead, as usual
Criticism floats endlessly in the air
Feelings of sharp objects stabbed into her heart with their stare
Belittling her confidence to make right choices
Negativity is always clearer in their voices
Self-esteem is gone with turbulent waves of the ocean
Shutting off her desires for a new door to open
Oh, how savage and painful their assumptions
She wonders how words are faster than actions
Doubting her self worth, she dwells in the impossible
Hopelessly thinking her goals are unachievable
A never ending reflection of her useless life
She keeps hoping for a chance to see a new tide
However, people are so cruel to be quick to judge
She sits and thinks, “why would I hold a grudge?”
The imaginable fairy tale she was told as a little girl
A steady crown, her idea of a precious little pearl
It’s rare to find in the midst of all the chaos
But still, she questions “who is my real boss?”
Life moved on each day with her head held high
That tingling feeling still lingers within her that no money can buy
She’s a woman, she’s a lady, she’s a goddess
Yet, they still wishing “Oh she still look stressed”
The ongoing battle of the mind and soul
As everyone says, “Truth be told”
Years of fighting for a place to maintain
But, why does it feel like she’s still in pain?
No matter how hard she tries to admit her defeat
The strength from within her keeps asking, “Who is she?”
Hello ..
I am Dr. Sabeena Suwal (MBBS ) from Nepal.I am keenly interested to publish a poem which I have just composed.It is kinda motivational poem which tries its best to encourage the people who is in lack of hope and boosts up the energy which is within himself.
Title of poem ‘The moment’
I walked out of my work place
One cold, wintry day
Do I shop? Do I exercise?
I wanted to play!
While bending to pick up
My hat that fell down
I felt feet on my back
My eyes still to the ground.
What creature is this
Climbing up my green coat?
A rodent? A robin?
It felt more like a goat!
A claw on my neck
A tail in my ear
The cat reached its goal
The top of my head I do fear!
“It’s cold out today
Let me stay on your head
If this, too, warms your heart
Then please take me to bed.
Leave that hat on the ground
It smells of wet doggie hair
Wear this cool cat instead
The Cat IS the Hat’s lair!
Found this really interesting, thanks for sharing!
Abraham Lincoln
O’ Wondrous panes of hallowed sands …
Thus melded by the fires …
Of martyred deeds upon the hands …
Our distant noble sires …
Bequeath to all in history’s wake …
For gallant cloaked their goals …
A window shared – lest we forsake …
A glimpse into their souls …
A gift bestowed – a fleeting glance …
Into the knowing eyes …
Foretell dark storms where warriors dance …
A nation’s anguished cries …
Torrential floods of crimson hue …
To cleanse a mighty sin …
Ancestral blood of Grey and Blue …
Unleashed from deep within …
A mortal wound – a solemn face …
Once etched in sanctity …
Reflects a reverential grace …
For perpetuity …
A privileged view – enjoyed by few …
A truth thus falsified …
The forlorn gaze that many knew …
Has withered and has died …
No beating heart – no shining light …
No vision to behold …
Alas, has disappeared from sight …
The journey has grown cold …
The acrid stench of lies exposed …
Sweet fate has been reversed …
A cherished window has been closed …
It’s echoes are now cursed.
a strange dream
setting across the sea
that has no one except me!
come on! I said let my mind be free
let the wind get through
every piece in me, though
I have nothing to hide , expect my thoughts
I thought I was hiding
until they told me that I was confining
confining from anything I have founding
oh! God! what’s going on here
I asked gently, please, just for me make it clear
I heard a whispered voice saying `~be cheer~
god! let my life go placidly
try to strive to live happily
someone knock my door suddenly
oh! dear open the damn door
I will be waiting on the floor
open ! I got you something from the store
I got some candies and sweets
believe me darling I stopped smoking weeds
I bought us a suite
let us be wealthier together
falling in love with each other
playing tennis and soccer
getting grey and old
protecting ourselves from cold
believing that our love is made up of gold
its kind of you gave me inspiration
I said `I really need your motivation`
you know its not about cognition
I woke up on my mother s scream
she said
I said yeah it has been a strange dream
I personally have found http://www.originalquills.com as the best platform to PUBLISH my poems, blogs and short stories online for FREE !
Also they pay you money on the number of likes your post gets !
Tree-lined boulevards boom and echo
As noisy motors zoom and slow
Trucks rumble past, their loads in tow
Wheels of all sizes, high and low
No longer content to turn and roll
Like the carriages whose wood woud creak
horses whose hooves woud clack along.
Instead they drag, screech, streak
belching smoke out loud
whirring and honking their unpleasant song
Up and down, couples used to stroll
Each man playing their part
each woman playing their role
trying to win her heart
trying to glimpse his soul
the elegant sweep of a lady’s dress
It’s glory gradually less and less
And now plain, practical, merely pretty
They amble past the faded exterior
of grandiose mansions
No longer haughty in their pretensions
Mansions from a bygone era
Each day more and more inferior
They hide behind their rusted gates
eyesores with despicable traits
Their grimy windows squint and peer
Their archaic protests no one can hear
And rooftops that overlook untended lawns
Overgrown with clumps and rough-grown patches
Of unwelcome shrubs and impertinent grasses
The trees like an unwieldy appendage
Grafted onto intervaled beds to hoodwink the masses
The boom and echo , a useless verbiage
Behind closed doors where things are forbidden,
Lies true colors and secrets that have both been hidden,
You are fooled by there appearance– fooled by there mask,
Never any mistrust, no questions you ask,
Hope never found only sorrow and pain,
Damaging someone– what do you hope to gain?
No dignity, no remorse behind those pair of eyes,
Just resentment, pride, blindness, and lies,
Behind closed doors where things are forbidden,
Lies true colors and secrets that have both been hidden!
accused
‘Don’t look at my nipples’
says my granddaughter, aged four,
giggling and covering them
with both her hands.
‘I did not look at them!’
‘Yes you did’ says she.
How innocent,
the accuser at four!
How apprehensive,
the accused at seventy!
Boghos L. Artinian
My very first poem. I was never good at expressing myself with words, because I believed actions are louder than words. I don’t know the correct format or techniques, so I just wrote it as is.
Living a life of sacrifice, in the shadow of responsibility.
Stepping into the light, will bring ‘true’ freedom, in a sense.
However, ‘true’ freedom will also bring the loss of many.
Staying in the dark, will only further harden my heart.
The rationalistic thoughts, bred from the numbness in my heart,
are gradually taking over my being.
I know my heart hasn’t completely frozen over, only because
I still contemplate over this choice.
Stepping into the light is inevitable.
I only ask myself,
When should I take that last step?
How much more do I need to lose and sacrifice first?
Can I truly live in the light?
Can living in the light allow my frozen heart to start beating again.
35y/o father of 3.
Never Delirious
Quite often serious
Life is to short
Gotta do my best
Made many mistakes
Gotta patch them up
Yes
Reap what’s been sewed
On the positive note
Never again do bad
That makes me very stressed nervous and sad
I’ve lived alot of life
Alot of it has been in strife
Not easy to follow my dreams
When the world around me has no seams
But I keep on pushing
For this world I’m ambushing
I will arrive at my destined spot
Whether I try hard or not
Isn’t that a trip
I can work hard or not at all
And it’s inevitable that I’ll slip
Maybe fall
But I can’t and won’t stay down ya’ll
Learn is to grow
And I’ll never take that answer of no
Why to me
Would you lie to me
When all I want to do
Is live life happy peaceful and free
I’m a good guy
Who yes makes mistakes
I’m just trying to find the best me
Cause for real basically I think I’m pretty damn great
Thanks
Twilight Bridge
The dark atmosphere of night was ominous,
A black mass I was scared to enter or interact with,
But as soon as I could find my fear for the darkness,
It had consumed the surrounding wood,
Now I was immersed in the black tint converting the landscape I stood in,
I stand nothing more than a faceless silhouette along with everything else in the world,
The darkness was terrifying,
But comforting,
The knowing of everyone to behold your ominous shadow would be washed over with a wave of anxiety and fear,
Although knowing that will be you will have the same reaction to anyone else’s Dusk form,
A sense of control,
A sense of losing your grip,
The two emotions succumb to each other,
Fear and Possessive nature giving into one another,
The creation of the moments following twilight,
A neutralness,
Fear for the night to come,
Relief that the day is over,
Excitement for the nights’ arrival,
The sad passing of the glorious day,
No matter what lies ahead or how you experienced the past hours,
This moment will always be special,
The bridge between our measurements of time,
It shall not be claimed by nor denied to anyone,
This moment is love,
Free and wild,
Yet having underlying comforting and stable tones,
This is the Dusk Bridge
Darkness is much satisfying than the light that hurt my sight.
Hollowness is finer than something waiting to be emptied.
Whispers imprinted last longer than any booming din.
Pain is permanent ,where happiness can be interim.
So which is better?
Theorganicpoet.com –
The Organic Poet is a movement. A safe and empathetic space. Together we have only one goal in mind……to make the world a better place.
We live on a beautiful planet. Alone we sink but together we sail. Let’s share our successes together, and lend a hand to those who fail.
Contributing positively to society is our passion, we hope that it resonates through. Let’s help one another in our times of need with kindness and contributions from you.
Though we know we’ll not influence policy, we thought we’d make a positive start. To step out of our bubble, shift focus from trouble and provide poetry that comes from the heart.
If you’d like to add steam to the movement, through spoken word, poetry or song. The Organic Poet train is in motion we’d love you to hop on
bit.ly/UploadYourOwnPoetry
Upload your own Poetry, Story, Ghazals, Shayari here.
We also share your social media links that connect your readers on various social media platforms with you.
https://www.magazineup.com/the-scream-of-fireworks/
check out my new website. we need submissions for our non-profit poetry/arts magazine <3
urbandesolation.org
Really Great
They were standing in sunshine
I without a single ray of hope
They were happy
My mood was off
They were pro
I was noob
They were full jar
Me an empty scoupe
They were strong
I was faltered
They were same
I was altered
‘The time has come,’ – a thought
What was that Lewis Carroll poem?
About the sea that’s boiling hot?
Oh my, my mind does roam!
A pretty song – Here, There, and Everywhere,
Pops up vision of The Beatles.
How did they see their microphones lair, dare, hair
Time on my hands, thoughts, and tweedles.
Tweedle e dee, Tweedle e dum
Little bubbles above my head.
Thoughts playing in the circles they did come
Thinking hangs out – mostly in my bed!
I’ll meditate and stop my thoughts,
But they just keep coming.
Poodles, noodles, and giant colored dots,
Before I know it – I’m humming!
‘Of shoes, and ships, and sealing wax,
Of cabbages and kings,’ goes the poem
These thoughts arrive fast and lined as stacks
I hope to find my way home.
I’ll be friendly to thoughts and give them space
There’s just no rhyme or reason
To indulge them importance as a case,
Spaciousness, after all, is in season!
I was finding a platform that gives my writing worth
NAME AGBOYI SAMSON
TITLE (LIFELESSNESS
day upon day it came,
battles at all set goals
mostly at mine initial moves
so powerful to stage on mine peace
readiness to anchor every quest
many are captured many are gone,
everyday heroes are closer to it,
who is superior to it?
life is short and painful
Man is born to live and die
decline it now.
Storms and hunger is all over
I’m aware of the sudden calls
I miss the piteous smile from you
all wealth in vain
all love and hate in vain
I had gone up and down to wash my heart
I miss all wild retreat
I miss all betrayed smile too
heavens or hell maybe there,
the truth is untold
don’t call on me now
the wild world is sweet
don’t call on me now
I’m little and young.
A Reflection of Myself
I drag a wounded soldier
Through the battlefield
His wounds bleed as we move
I could stop and he may get better
Or he may get worse
I see others in the distance
I must ask them for help
But they have hurt us before
So I continue to drag us along
I can’t remember how he was hurt
It happened so long ago
I think it was many things
That knocked him down
I remember how he was before
So strong, so real, so alive
Now that he is damaged
I keep him safe
I keep myself safe
For the soldier is me
An older better me
I am just a copy, a fake, a poor reflection,
A ghost trying to protect his smile
Back to Life/Recycled (Dedicated to the Weary)
Beyond the Clouds
Where rocks and chunks of metal and ice and chaos dwell
My unconscious thoughts traverse the void from whence the Adam fell
It travels past places where flying debris was expelled, by way of violence
Outward and onward to places much too far away for electronic eyes to pry
Way out yonder,
Where theories of Einstein and Hawking seemingly come to life
As the vast expanse of space and time slowly expand and contract,
I unravel like a tangled mass of yarn in the hands of an inquisitive child
Mortal thoughts preoccupy my mind no more as I explore,
With eyes wide shut,
Past the margins of this flesh, this bone, this prison that so many before me happily referred to as “home”
Deep now in meditation, a transformation ensues as I enter a place beyond where the so-called “soul” dwells
Suspended, transcendentally, light years past the proverbial nirvana or hell
Back to the lighted womb of, yet another, “mother”
Yet!!!
What should have been beheld as precious was, instead, casually neglected
Injected into a world filled with rage
Sacrificed at a young age to the nefariously malevolent gods and goddesses of hate
Beaten and broken verbally, mentally, and physically before being ceremoniously raped
The dramatic finale and climatic conclusion to seal the fate of that which now faced a disproportionately high mortality rate
With no imminent end to the seemingly endless deplorable conditions which replaces the spirit of innocence with toxic pollution,
Thoughts of self-medication and suicide seem like viable solutions
With no foreseeable salvation, or rescue by another, in sight
What should have been cherished as a blessing now struggles to remember a semblance the ever fading light
A light, which once represented the manifestation of solace and peace, now battles daily for its existence against turmoil, chaos, and grief
Distrust in all, emotional and physical detachment, and reckless fearlessness are now the keys to utilize in order to survive
What should have been protected and given wise direction now impatiently waits for death to arrive
In the meantime, bloodshed, pain, terror, and sheer brutality all help to pass the time
The bones of the weak and innocent and “good” are used to pick clean the teeth of their exact opposites, which they vehemently and continually oppose
And what should have been a light and an example of excellence hasn’t made it to, and adamantly doubts it will ever reach, the ceremonial age 21 years old
With no goals aspired to reach and a future outlook which seemed bleak
What should have been loved now appears, to others, as nonchalant, stoic, off-putting, devilish, black, unapproachable, anti-social, unmotivated, uneducated, and unreachable in action and demeanor
In all actuality, for many, these do not represent the true nature of their intentions
They are all coping mechanisms utilized to navigate a world where something as simple as smile can have adverse consequences
Plus, the constant stress of just surviving, in general, day to day, can have a diminishing effect upon the body as well as age the face
Thus, the youth rarely look, or act for that matter, their exact age
What should have reentered this realm for the very last time, having previously endured its share of suffering and pain (in this human condition),
Humbly submits his life, as a spectacle, for all that share in this perdition,
To judge, to analyze, and criticize with their pseudo-wisdom, isms and schisms
Not once taking into consideration that the same, uncertain, fate patiently awaits them; on THEIR return!
SHATTERED DREAMS
Once there was a girl of 18.
Her freedom was enclosed within her family and society.
Her key to freedom was locked by them.
She never chooses to be like this,
But it was her fate to be born here.
As they shattered all her dreams,
She didn’t break off dreamin’.
At least in her dream, she can wish things to happen the way she wants,
And now she’s livin’ in her dreams!!
Every ocean will have something presious,
Every river will have something presious,
All the sky is presious to earth,
But 15 August the independence day for big human trafficking nation, police, army? nothing is presious here.
SPOILED BRAT
I am a day dreamer and my sister is dream maker
I am just an younger child and she is an elder taker
I think a lot and I know that is very wrong
Where she have a confidence that’s make her very strong
My mommy said I am immature
But no one mention that my sister is on a tour
They said I am revolting disgusting and offensive
But in my defense I am just an expensive
Last night she had an argument with my mom
And there I was searching how to get peace on google.com
She is a golden child with my assent
Thanks to god by writing this time is really spent
By-Mansi
My Tattered Hat
By: Robert Dunagan Johnson
My tattered tat
So frayed and worn
Leaves me feeling so happy
Never forlorn
My tattered hat
Feels so good upon my crown
With it nestled rightly upon my head
I feel no need to frown
My tattered hat
Whatever shall I do
Wherever shall I go
In your absence, I truly
Just do not know!
Some things are bad
Some things are not
But this old tattered hat
To me, sure means a lot!
We hates school ,
We hated Teacher’s,
We hated books,
We hated getting up early in the morning,
We hated the class photo but
Today when it comes to the last day of school we realize,
School was not he’ll , it was our second home ,
Teacher’s were not rude they were our second mother ,
Books were not uninteresting we never had interest in it ,
Class photo was never boring, instead it was a life time memory for us
‐ Anjali J. Mishra
I’m struggling to breathe
I really can’t
There’s something tied around my neck
I know what it is, I put it there
I look at my watch
12:23 am
How much longer will I have to be here
Hang here
Hang here by my neck
I inhale again
This could be it my last breath I wait
12:25 am
Another breath
Another second away from etenity
Tick Tock Tick Tock
My vision is hazey, foggy
I cant breathe now
I check my watch one last time
12:26 am
I look striaght
At nothing
Suddenly a tear runs down my face
One stray tear
I’m sorry
First thing first, I was broken from birth. All ways running and hiding from her. Hearing the nap and the crackle from the wip. Never bowing to love , only to pain.
My fear,my pain I shove in to a pack. Waiting only for you to take the wight off my back
You found me. Showed me your heart and helped mine to grow. . The love that we had was a mold that was meant to last .
We loved, we cried. We laughed. We built a life that would forever last. But 18 yrs later that’s all in the past. Now I’m running and pain all over again. I miss you. I miss us. But now in each other’s eyes, we are just dust
Loneliness hits hard as a sledgehammer.
It knocks your teeth right out–
They clatter, bloody
To the floor
Like pearls on a glass tray.
` And then, it takes a
Fistful of hair–
Yanks your head back,
And feeds you your own teeth
One
By
One.
You choke them down,
You taste your own bones,
You swallow.
Nothing can fix what has been done to you.
No one is coming to help you.
Nobody even knows you’re
Screaming.
To be the only heartbeat in an empty room.
To live in only your own mind,
And occupy vacancy in the minds of anyone else–
Greater violence upon the soul
Can not even be imagined.
Great tips — I knew only Thrush, but will try the others–nice to have the international view. Thank you!
love urdu poetry
Hear comes the Rain
Tik tok goes the rain, here comes the wind in plain.
Listen to the rain tik tok it goes, then it comes again in a mighty heavy blow.
The rain is mother natures way of saying I am here, when gently I come, then gently I retreat.
He is circle,
He is light,
He is full moon….
Its white and bright with clouds at night…
light is nature more than lights…,
that’s full moon,
He is beautiful
And polite with lights..,
Its all about human thoughts,
Do you listen music with full moon!…
You all get life .
To my Late father
I wish you had been here to see
your friend Fox reach a hundred.
He ate little while you gobbled food,
he breathed clean air while you smoked,
he worked little while you toiled hard,
he read magazines while you delved into
Shakespeare and de Balzac,
he socialized while you shunned folk;
he lived ‘half a life’ of one hundred
while you lived a full fifty eight years!
Boghos L. Artinian
Nice Post.
Would request if you could add littleauthors.in in your article which caters to young adults.
Dear Author,
We are inviting submissions for the June 2022 issue of
‘Literature Today’. The theme of our June 2022 issue is ‘Good vs
Evil’. You can send us poems, short stories, memoirs and one act plays on :
1. Good vs evil.
2. Glorification of evil in present times through social media,
movies, books etc.
3. Social evils.
4. Good and humanity.
5. Evil and relationships.
6. Good and relationships.
7. Good as an expression of non violence.
8. Evil as an expression of violence.
9. Evil as synonyms of power, influence, money and success.
10. Good is not always victorious.
11. Need for good to sustain human society.
12. Good vs evil in individual.
13. Good vs evil in human society.
14. Any other relevant topic which explores the theme of ‘Good vs evil’.
Submission Deadline: June 20, 2022.
Website: https://literaturetodayjournal.blogspot.com/
Submission Guidelines:
1. Send not more than 4 poems.
2. Send not more than 2 short stories/2 one act plays/ 2 memoirs.
3. Work submitted for publication must be original.
4. Simultaneous submissions are also welcome.
5.Send all submissions to editorliteraturetoday@gmail.com
6. Please send a cover letter and short Bio-data, (Maximum 80 words)
in third person narrative, with your submission.
Submission Deadline: June 20, 2022.
Best wishes
Editor
CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS FOR REGULAR ISSUES of FRESH WORDS-An INTERNATIONAL LITERARY MAGAZINE
We are inviting submissions for our newly started magazine ‘Fresh Words-An International Literary Magazine’. We invite poems, short stories, essays, plays, diaries, excerpts from books (published or upcoming submitted by author only), book reviews, interviews and travelogues.
For detailed guidelines please visit:
https://sites.google.com/view/freshwordsmagazine/submit
H.E.R
Pieces of broken vass ,
Bleeding feets of her walking past ,
Someone did asked her,
‘Doesn’t it hurts ?’
A small smile filled with all her sadness said,
‘Not much as it hurts here inside’
Pointing at her heart she resides ,
She was too innocent for this gambling world ,
Her kind eyes only saw the good in many monsters ,
Again walking by those streets,
From which she used to walk by soundly ,
Now seems to have muted her unknowingly,
‘What was my fault ?’ she asked to herself,
The voice of her only echoed’ No’
To every evil those monsters does,
She never did asked for ‘it’
Simply she was just walking past the street ,
She was too pure to be called impure in words,
Society did played its dirty game on her ,
She looked at herself as if she was the criminal ,
Justice what she got ?
Money buyed the rights to be all wrong,
Again after many years ,
She found those monsters sharing the same road as her’s .
Younger self poem
Remember that one time
That time that you always worried
That time that you thought everything was going to go bad
That time you thought that everything isn’t going your way
Well i’m glad that you handled the things they way you did
You listened to your dad and he was always right
“ dont stress , you are fine “
“ don’t cry , you are the best out there “
“ Pain is temporary “
“ pain is weakness leaving your body “
God has his plan for you
Everything happens for a reason
Life as a Z
By , Connor McCaleb
The big wide wheels
2 tight bucket seats
Loud and angry
VQ screaming
Tomei roaring
The gray whistling through the wind
Light carbon
Fast pulling , fast digging
5.0 Hungry , GTI starving
It is so much fun driving a Z
The Cat,
Under the tree,
Dances,
As the moon go over it,
The Dog,
Over the lake,
Stays still,
As the sun goes underneath it,
The droplets,
Move in the air,
Whoosh!
Splash!
Into the lake,
Making the cat and dog wet,
At the lake.
By Sarah Shahzad at poemtheart.com
Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, And I’ll not look for wine
i would like to sell a few pieces of my poems.
Music
I rather just say
I hate your music.
Saving me the obliviousness
of loving it.
CRACK.
The ice is melting like
snow in the sun.
Letting me hear
the noise.
Like a door opening to the world
and all the possibilities.
Joy like light in the dark
for you have
covered up the feelings of:
Fear,
making me unable
to save the ones
I love.
Helplessness,
a voice
that tells me
I have no power
over the outcome.
And
Loneliness,
a monster
that stalk behind
every
single
corner.
BOOM.
Their power
is overwhelming.
And always
always waiting
waiting for
a false step
a lie
a dream waiting to be broken.
Then,
it consumes
consumes what’s left
of a fragile mind
that is falling
falling apart
like a silent wind
blowing
blowing the leaves away.
So far away.
But,
you hide that,
if only for a
few minutes
of blissful
ignorance.
Yet,
There is no
stopping monsters
once they are
awake.
You just
slow their
waking.
So,
I can not
thank you
for the suspense
that is leading up to
my inevitable
death
from my
monsters.
I hate your music.