' Black Autumn { For My Silent Mentor Edgar Allan Poe}...

Comes the cold, black, Death of Autumn, harbouring its' pique on naked limb; stirring damp, feral winds to the hawking, stalking, insidious squawking... of ominous, petulant birds, large, pestilent birds, inexorabally, ever circling 'neath the late day shadows from a cold november sun.

Stolen Moments

So...long...the day......so short....the hour Stolen moments....angst...........deceit ......Another night.....sooo....long....the hour Stolen moments......bittersweet * * So far away...on an autumn's day And yet...so near they were Two woven lives...two souls in love With many dreams...to share

Beauty Of Imperfection

Hard shelled, Smoothed by many currents, many tides, Buffing it with all that sand As waves cycle through, A cool fleshy lump of life Lifts a finger To get the weather report On the motion of the seas; Lifts a hand to grab morsels From the smorgasbord passing by.

What's On My Mind You Ask? ? ?

What's on my mind you ask? ? ? ? Do you really want to know? Huh, punk, do you? Oh, ooooops, slipped into my Clint Eastwood persona there, please excuse me. What's on my mind is what is causing me to sit here emitting the world's longest, eeriest,

Ability-2

Vagabond the husband.. Job to job, place to place Loitering in unsteady wandering His own wishful ideology Towed wife followed in silence Dragged to get abraded Of frequent packing and unpacking Fueled his reasonless loathing routine

Dichterliebe

So hungry-sensitive that he craves day and night the pap of praise, he'll ease his gripes or fingerpaint in heartsblood on a public page. The ordinary world must be altered to circumvent his rage. He'll tell, with stylish Angst of course, the inmost secrets of our bed. Words are far worse than drugs; there is

Akimbo

are we not just bouncing around in a great rubber inferno occasionally colliding with one another until one of us breaks? i dangle from the ceiling fan the light has burned out, the walls are closing in the air is getting thinner all this time i had thought you would rescue me but you never showed i have no superhero

I Don'T

Many people write For their true emotions to unravel Out of depression, angst, spite But I can’t I don’t write poems when I’m sad They write from their experiences When he left me When they died Bringing tears, causing cries

The Red Diary!

Past is ebbing back to me Hopes Hurts Heart-breaks Deep wounds of virgin soul solace Angst Poems written in faded blue Wise quotes Old pics

# As The Year Draws To An End...

What is it about some days Birthday, festivals and anniversary New Year and first of January We wake up expectant and gay… I ponder this foggy December Why can’t we feel joyous and alive? Ready to dance, sing and jive Why it takes some dates on the calendar,

Kavita 04 - After My Lover Has Gone Abroad

After my lover has left for abroad Happiness and gaiety are annoyed of me Sleep does not visit me even in the nights How do I, friend, put the angst of separation in words How do I spend my life ahead This world is no longer dear to me Without him, I've become desparate How do I tell you, but want to live no longer I have stopped adorning up myself

A Paradigm Shift

Driving straight is fun But careful dive along bow bends, Trivial anticlimactic stances Breed carking differences World cascades in future The young grows up in age Doesn’t have to wait too long Dichotomy picked up with a tong

Foreword

This is a death threat for no one, a suicidal promise to someone, a reaper's ransom note. This is slow dancing to the last dance, waking up to new millenniums and apocalypse,

Fear Of Death

Fear of Death I am confined in the cauldron of smoke Coming out of perpetual inferno That is blazing with fury and angst. The ugly inferno gapes at me With violent rage to swallow my soul. No way to escape from its rigid clasp Guilt’s ugly face has chilled my footsteps I am destined to face God’s wrath

! To A God-Daughter On Her Sad Poem

Yes, we get blasé and dismissive on this site – reading in the reams of Poemhunter posts ‘yet another poem of teenage angst’, we say, scanning the raw wounds too rough for poetry – but what else will ease the pain? ‘I thought we loved each other for ever – how could you do this to me? …’

A Face Book Profile

I’m Picasso if you asked colour of my eye In séance I only speak Greek; come hither Only if your soul has ears I’m a Pharaoh and accept only sons for supper I express my angst in Iliad; haiku distraught me I breathe only underwater and use sun for scrub Amazing isn’t it? my Eureka was first to berth at Atlantis When I laugh tyrants weep… Believe it I exist only in mediocrity

A Brief Introduction To My Thoughts (I'M Smiling, Darling, Not Whining)

Hi. The name is Lou. Born in the land of the new moon, raised in the Pearl of the Orient. My Grandparents as my Parents, My Parents as my Grandparents. An outcast in the family, treated like dirt, seen as a microbe. Indie kid with an emo flare, Teenage Angst mixed with cofee,

Mr Wonderful

When at last she gets to slumber, She dreams of Mr Wonderful, Every night, She is resolute to find the sunlight, To move to the city of New York, As here at home she is just bobbing on the ocean, Like a lone cork, The waves battering the core of her being, The wind howling at her emotional turmoil,

Born Today

for Jane is to be one to the one closest to you who shares the air & other elements right there next to you two bodies wrapped in darkness among millions of other bodies

I Love All The Poemhunter Family

Poetry is the window of the Soul Every window has two sides By virtue of its own transparency. Windows allow us - to look in and out That is the function of Poetry C'est la raison d'etre de Poeisme! Poetry is an expression of Emotion Poetry is a release of Ecstacy. A pent up verbalisation,