z

Young Writers Society


Poem Spot - [ on the spot ]



User avatar
396 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 27
Reviews: 396
Fri Jun 19, 2015 11:12 am
View Likes
Pompadour says...



i am poetry

i am hasty 'brb's and not reappearing for two hours.
i am awful puns and shifty glances when there's a soap on t.v.,
because as far as my experiences guide me,

you cannot wash your hands with 'romana nay aqeel say talakh lay li'.

i am awkwardness' i am prone
to convincing myself i am not awkward/this is a phase/
you do know this is awkward right??

but most of all, i guess i am
denial, and hope, and early mornings and late nights,
and staring at the black undersides of my eyelids
'til i fall asleep.
How to format poetry on YWS

this sky where we live is no place to lose your wings
  





User avatar
806 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 1883
Reviews: 806
Wed Jun 24, 2015 3:08 pm
View Likes
Aley says...



Trapped,

an impending sense of doom looming high in the sky above my head
nowhere to run as entrances are only entrances
and nowhere to hide from the growling sun
caught tangled with no hands, no toes, and a gaping jaw.
I've seen it all before, avoided it all before as the suspicious line
dangles in the water, still.

We do not converge in walls
or stay still for long, so as I see them there
stiff, with ten hundred neighbors parallel, I am suspicious.

But I am trapped in a shrinking vortex, closed if I push out
a chinese finger toy with no other side. The more I struggle
the tighter it grows around my body
until asphyxiation is my only escape.

Goodbye my family, my friends, I am drying out
drowning on air, and you cannot come near me to give a hug
or offer me some comfort. You are safer out there. Avoid the tempting hook
glittery as it may be. Think before you eat, and stay alive for me.
  





User avatar
425 Reviews



Gender: Gendervague he/she/they
Points: 50
Reviews: 425
Mon Dec 21, 2015 12:20 am
Vervain says...



cloud-knitted landscapes stretched through the beforemost –
land-emptied dryness and squalor and death –
such haphazard wildflowers grown by the roadside
are worth but a penny of time, more or less.

as singers, they cough up their royalty;
as actors, they pay up their fare;
time waits for no man, and no man does his time –
still it's Death who will give him the scare.
stay off the faerie paths
  





User avatar
110 Reviews



Gender: Male
Points: 546
Reviews: 110
Thu Feb 18, 2016 7:59 am
Zolen says...



Don't demand revenge for a soldiers death,
for they already sold their soul.
They fell to battle,
their natural state,
their hardly worth the morn

Don't demand revenge for a soldiers death,
they were nothing but a pawn.
A marionette,
set with strings,
beaten to the gun.

Glory to the soldier
for what could be so grand?
a bloody call by leadership
to money or to land.
Self quoting is the key to sounding wise and all knowing.
  





User avatar
806 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 1883
Reviews: 806
Wed Apr 20, 2016 12:10 am
View Likes
Aley says...



Together

You and I will dance among the stars
whistfully wilting across the willowy floor
falling upon our feet like fruit
collapsing to the chaotic grass
rolling around the hills, until we stop
and rest our hands together
softly, softly,

just a little ghost of a touch
for we are together
in the mounds beneath this tree
which has grown from our broken bones
and fed upon our chanting moans
through our pulp and our pureed stones
and we reach through our nutrient
towards the sky, lifting our arms high

Take me away!
Take me above the clouds
and the atmosphere
the smog and the smoke
and the toxic fumes
let me die among the emptiness
be something, among nothing at all
and whistfully I'll twist myself
to never fall, and never rise
and never be
but I am sick
of this resistance on my hands
as I slap the wind.

Let me be free.
  





User avatar
174 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 3255
Reviews: 174
Mon Apr 25, 2016 9:55 am
soundofmind says...



I know not how I got here
I'm not sure where I've been
but now that I've arrived
I might as well begin:

I'll say that I bs'd this,
and that really may be true.
'Cause really all I'm doing
is popping in a few
words here and there
and calling it a poem.

So to spare you guys
any further pain
I'll end it soon, and I know,
I will not return again.
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  





User avatar
1333 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 25775
Reviews: 1333
Tue Jun 28, 2016 9:48 pm
View Likes
Hannah says...



boast

i walk into the restaurant, late,
for the second time in my life.
the waitress calls my name.
you can message me with anything: questions, review requests, rants
are you a green room knight yet?
have you read this week's Squills?
  





User avatar
425 Reviews



Gender: Gendervague he/she/they
Points: 50
Reviews: 425
Tue Jun 28, 2016 10:03 pm
View Likes
Vervain says...



snack bags hastily packed full of jewelry,
tucked in a cardboard box that used to hold
glass bottles for rum:

all the roads my grandmothers built for me
silver and gold, nickel and tin, gifts taken
from the emerald cities I'm fated not to see

a black satin ribbon, a red glass heart
my mother hoped and prayed would be enough
to keep me safe while I toss and turn

lucky talismans picked out at fourteen
that I still cling to vividly six years along
not because they're lucky any more but
because they remind me of those I once loved

silver and gold, nickel and tin, gifts taken
and given down the path of life,
and I've tucked them away in the corners
for unpacking once I get there.
stay off the faerie paths
  





User avatar
1333 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 25775
Reviews: 1333
Tue Jun 28, 2016 10:07 pm
View Likes
Hannah says...



when i become a nomad
my backpack will teeter high above my shoulders
filled with the smiles of children who learned to pronounce my name
and letters sent when fathers couldn't afford brand new cards
and cigarette butts with lipstick stains of mothers' shame
and receipts for moments i thought i'd want to remember
but instead keep to remind myself how wrong i was
and hope to stay on the right road this time around.
you can message me with anything: questions, review requests, rants
are you a green room knight yet?
have you read this week's Squills?
  





User avatar
299 Reviews



Gender: None specified
Points: 24185
Reviews: 299
Tue Jun 28, 2016 10:20 pm
TheSilverFox says...



She whispered in my ear
that I was meant to find someone special,
because celebrities tend to walk down the street
often enough.
Now that they all have voices
and an audience to bellow towards
in loud grunts behind 1s and 0s
forming the pictures of gunned-down citizens
and an ever-present warning
nobody takes seriously.

Yet, by my bedside, she chose to croon about heathens
and, with a bitten lip, spit out hatred,
accuse the reserved individuals
walking among streets of civilians,
they avoiding the hammers thrown at them
to stomp them against the earth
and into it, as though they had hammers
of their own, or the willingness
to use them.

It came with the ever present desire
that I not join their ranks,
like everyone is at an end of an extreme
on an arbitrary scale,
though, even then, those poised far enough away
on both sides tend to resemble each other
too closely.

I find it hard
to trust in someone
I don't believe in.
S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse
a persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma per ciò che giammai di questo fondo
non tornò vivo alcun, s'i' odo il vero,
senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo.

Inferno, Canto 27, l 61-66.
  





User avatar
488 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 3866
Reviews: 488
Tue Jun 28, 2016 10:57 pm
View Likes
Meshugenah says...



cigarettes line the dirt,
patterned betrayal
in the lies my father told me
pressed in seams and folded in fabric
he could no longer smell,
i could no longer stomach.
***Under the Responsibility of S.P.E.W.***
(Sadistic Perplexion of Everyone's Wits)

Medieval Lit! Come here to find out who Chaucer plagiarized and translated - and why and how it worked in the late 1300s.

I <3 Rydia
  





User avatar
396 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 27
Reviews: 396
Wed Jun 29, 2016 8:48 am
View Likes
Pompadour says...



the sea is lamplit, star-
scattered; its dunes heav-
ing and breathing in eternal
poisoned blue. in a tempestuous
graveyard, fish flicker their feet;
corpses go on living where they
did not intend to.
How to format poetry on YWS

this sky where we live is no place to lose your wings
  





User avatar
806 Reviews

Supporter


Gender: Female
Points: 1883
Reviews: 806
Tue Jul 19, 2016 5:46 pm
View Likes
Aley says...



Caught between your tethered cord
and my own noose tying skills,
I find myself eagerly kicking the trap door lever.
  





User avatar
63 Reviews



Gender: None specified
Points: 17
Reviews: 63
Sat Aug 13, 2016 3:31 am
Werthan says...



Roses are red
Violets are blue
I'll do my true will instead
And head out away from you
(for I am really free
And none can trap me.)
Und so lang du das nicht hast
Dieses: Stirb und Werde!
Bist du nur ein trüber Gast
Auf der dunklen Erde

(And as long as you don't have
This: Die and become!
You are only a gloomy guest
On the dark Earth)

- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
  





User avatar
44 Reviews



Gender: Nonbinary
Points: 115
Reviews: 44
Sat Aug 13, 2016 10:56 pm
SkyeWalker says...



Ink-stained fingers,
muddled blue eyes, shining
with tears held back from
the surface.

'Darling, this is how
I say goodbye.'
he was a writer, and the wound left from
ripping apart of two hearts was
cauterized with none other than bittersweet,
poignant words.

'I'm sorry. I know you'll
never understand.'
They were simple, but somehow-
somehow held so much raw emotion.
Maybe it was the dried tears
swirled with ink.
Somehow, the clichéd words were believable.

'I hope you can forget me.
For your own sanity.'
Trembling hands, young skin,
Lightly curled, dark hair.
It was slightly wet from
The shower.

'Love you forever.'
The parchment fell to the floor,
crumbling to ash.

And she fell to the floor.
And all was forgotten.

(I have no clue what this is just don't ask k)
My pronouns are they/them.

Formerly Zhia and Reneia
  








I don't do time.
— Liberty