Personification poem ideasersonification poem ideas
Prompts for writers and Artists
2012.10.06 23:07 Praxibetel_Ix Prompts for writers and Artists
A sub reddit to get ideas flowing for Artists and Writers. Where Artists can post their work to prompt ideas for Writers and Writers can post stories to prompt ideas for artists. (Artist can get a story written based on their painting/sketch/photo/ any medium or Writers can get an art piece done of their story.
2020.03.18 06:24 positivesource CoronavirusRelief
Our hope is to create a nurturing space. Whether you feel lonely, scared, or bored, here's a resource list of things you can do and be inspired. We are inventing this as we go along. Share your ideas! Share a resource!
2012.06.17 09:50 DrFeargood 0x10^C Ships! A place to ask questions, share ideas, or just plain show off!
This is an 0x10^C subreddit for everything ship related. While some revel in unending lines of code, we at 0x10^c Ships just wanna see and hear about the boat(s) you'll be traversing the 'verse in! Don't be shy! Post builds, ideas, blueprints, questions, discuss ship mechanics and anything else as long as it is related to ships in 0x10^C!
2024.05.20 04:27 atwistedskein The Trauma of Five Year Plans
 | The Trauma of Five Year Plans submitted by atwistedskein to exmormon [link] [comments] My mom died when she was 31. I highly anticipated dying when she did. Looking forward to it sounds macabre, but when I reached 31 and I did not indeed die, it was something of a letdown and my body celebrated by forgetting how to walk. I find myself rather … alive and reluctant about it. I don't know how to carpe diem. I am trying to seize control of anything I can grasp, which usually translates to neat rows of knitted stitches. I do not enthusiastically embrace being alive. It's an impossibly heavy chore most days that I have to persist in existing. So my wife, who wants to be alive, likes talking about our five year plan. She begins with rapid-fire calculations and projections. Five years of buying nothing, she called for tonight. When our son has grown up, we can have this much in retirement. I'm already so behind because my ex financially abused me. And then I just burst into tears, because I, woman depressed, do not know how to be alive that long. I do not know how to plan for a future with me in it. I did everything I intended to do at absurdly young ages and now that I am not dead, I do not know how to be alive. I wept fat, sloppy tears onto my wife's breasts, blubbering about wanting to want to live. Maybe wanting to want to live is a place to start, but I am distrustful of it because I was taught that's what faith in God feels like when you don't have it, that wanting to believe is the place to start. I want to want to live, but I am traumatized by the idea of the future, and I am swallowing a belly of emptiness, trying to find the light I am not certain is waiting for me. (poem, mine) (Image is mine, but the item is a Tom Bihn Shepherd's Wool Utility Cloth) |
2024.05.20 04:24 foodieforlife124 20F [F4M] USA- looking for a serious relationship
Hi everyone, 20F here, almost 21. I live in the USA. I am in university studying psychology on the pre med track. My dream is to be a doctor. Usually guys are weirded out by this but I am not going to let that get to me.
I'm 5'7, have dark hair and eyes, on the curvy/full-figured side, and of Pakistani descent.
I like to write poems, do ballet, go to the gym, eat food (hence my username) and listen to music.
I am looking for a guy who is going to be committed and loyal to me and not waste my time. I'm on the tall side so I prefer someone taller than me. I am Muslim so I prefer Muslim men but I am open to people outside of my religion. I really want my man to be educated and have a steady career.
If you think we'll be a good fit, feel free to reach out!
submitted by foodieforlife124 to ForeverAloneDating [link] [comments]
I'm 5'7, have dark hair and eyes, on the curvy/full-figured side, and of Pakistani descent.
I like to write poems, do ballet, go to the gym, eat food (hence my username) and listen to music.
I am looking for a guy who is going to be committed and loyal to me and not waste my time. I'm on the tall side so I prefer someone taller than me. I am Muslim so I prefer Muslim men but I am open to people outside of my religion. I really want my man to be educated and have a steady career.
If you think we'll be a good fit, feel free to reach out!
2024.05.20 04:21 HiCFlashinFruitPunch I got bored and wrote this about TPAB to send to my friends…
(The post is slightly altered because the original text was more personal and directed at my friend)
All of this is stuff you’ve already heard before so this is just my personal looks at the album, its meaning, and why it’s probably the best rap album we’ll ever see.
If you have listened to TPAB all the way through then you remember that in the final track, Mortal Man, it’s Kendrick and someone else talking. I put this together and it’s just the conversation they have so you can easily read it and see who is talking when.
This is how I interpret albums meaning: TPAB is about the issues that African Americans will face due to the neglect of the U.S. government. The idea of the butterfly is a person who has become famous, or has power. That’s why in tracks like Wesley’s Theory, the opening track, the person talking says, “When the four corners of this cocoon collide You'll slip through the cracks hopin' that you'll survive Gather your weight, take a deep look inside Are you really who they idolize? To pimp a butterfly.” A butterfly is a transformed caterpillar, so in TPAB the idea of a caterpillar is someone who the government, or really anyone for that matter, doesn’t care about. Once they become famous (transform) and have power, they are treated better or like a butterfly.
Also, fun fact about TPAB that you prob already know. The original title was going to be “To Pimp a Caterpillar.” This was because it would then abbreviate to “2PAC” instead of TPAB.
Now for the conversation:
Kendrick: “I remember you was conflicted, misusing your influence. Sometimes I did the same, abusing my power full of resentment. Found myself screaming in a hotel room. I didn’t wanna self destruct. The evils of Lucy was all around me, so I went running for answers. Until I came home, but that didn’t stop survivors guilt. Going back and forth, trying to convince myself the stripes I earned, or maybe how A-1 my foundation was. But while my loved ones were fighting a continuous war back in the dirty, I was entering a new one. A war that was based on apartheid and discrimination. Made me wanna go back to the city and tell the homies what I learned, the word was respect. Just because you wore a different gang color than mine's doesn't mean I can't respect you as a black man. Forgetting all the pain and hurt we caused each other in these streets. If I respect you, we unify and stop the enemy from killing us, but I don't know, I'm no mortal man, maybe I'm just another n*. Shit and that's all I wrote. I was gonna call it Another N** but, it ain't really a poem, I just felt like it's something you probably could relate to. Other than that, now that I finally got a chance to holla at you. I always wanted to ask you about a certain situa--, about a metaphor actually, you spoke on the ground. What you mean 'bout that, what the ground represent?”
Friend: “The ground is gonna open up and swallow the evil…”
Kendrick - “Right…”
Friend: “That's how I see it, my word is bond. I see--and the ground is the symbol for the poor people, the poor people is gonna open up this whole world and swallow up the rich people. Cause the rich people gonna be so fat, they gonna be so appetising, you know what I'm saying, wealthy, appetizing. he poor gonna be so poor and hungry, you know what I'm saying it's gonna be like... there might be some cannibalism out this mutha, they might eat the rich.”
Kendrick: “Aight so let me ask you this then, do you see yourself as somebody that's rich or somebody that made the best of their own opportunities?”
Friend: “I see myself as a natural born hustler, a true hustler in every sense of the word. I took nothin', I took the opportunities, I worked at the most menial and degrading job and built myself up so I could get it to where I owned it. I went from having somebody manage me to me hiring the person that works my management company. I changed everything I realized my destiny in a matter of five years you know what I'm saying I made myself a millionaire. I made millions for a lot of people now it's time to make millions for myself, you know what I'm saying. I made millions for the record companies, I made millions for these movie companies, now I make millions for us.”
Kendrick: “And through your different avenues of success, how would you say you managed to keep a level of sanity?”
Friend: “and by my faith in "all good things come to those that stay true. You know what I'm saying, and it was happening to me for a reason, you know what I'm saying, I was noticing, shit, I was punching the right buttons and it was happening. So it's no problem, you know I mean it's a problem but I'm not finna let them know. I'm finna go straight through.”
Kendrick: “Would you consider yourself a fighter at heart or somebody that only reacts when they back is against the wall?”
Friend: “Shit, I like to think that at every opportunity I've ever been threatened with resistance, it's been met with resistance. And not only me but it goes down my family tree. You know what I'm saying, it's in my veins to fight back.”
Kendrick: “Aight well, how long you think it take before n***** be like, we fighting a war, I'm fighting a war I can't win and I wanna lay it all down.”
Friend: “In this country a black man only have like 5 years we can exhibit maximum strength, and that's right now while you a teenager, while you still strong or while you still wanna lift weights, while you still wanna shoot back. Cause once you turn 30 it's like they take the heart and soul out of a man, out of a black man in this country. And you don't wanna fight no more. And if you don't believe me you can look around, you don't see no loud mouth 30-year old muthafuckas.”
Kendrick: “That's crazy, because me being one of your offspring of the legacy you left behind I can truly tell you that there's nothing but turmoil goin' on so I wanted to ask you what you think is the future for me and my generation today?”
Friend: “I think that n***** is tired of grabbin' shit out the stores and next time it's a riot there's gonna be, like, uh, bloodshed for real. I don't think America know that. I think American think we was just playing and it's gonna be some more playing but it ain't gonna be no playing. It's gonna be murder, you know what I'm saying, it's gonna be like Nat Turner, 1831, up in this muthafucka. You know what I'm saying, it's gonna happen.”
Kendrick: “That's crazy man. In my opinion, only hope that we kinda have left is music and vibrations, lotta people don't understand how important it is. Sometimes I be like, get behind a mic and I don't know what type of energy I'mma push out, or where it comes from. Trip me out sometimes.”
Friend: “Because the spirits, we ain't even really rappin', we just letting our dead homies tell stories for us.”
Kendrick: I wanted to read one last thing to you. It's actually something a good friend had wrote describing my world. It says: "The caterpillar is a prisoner to the streets that conceived it. Its only job is to eat or consume everything around it, in order to protect itself from this mad city. While consuming its environment the caterpillar begins to notice ways to survive. One thing it noticed is how much the world shuns him, but praises the butterfly. The butterfly represents the talent, the thoughtfulness, and the beauty within the caterpillar. But having a harsh outlook on life the caterpillar sees the butterfly as weak and figures out a way to pimp it to his own benefits. Already surrounded by this mad city the caterpillar goes to work on the cocoon which institutionalizes him. He can no longer see past his own thoughts. He's trapped. When trapped inside these walls certain ideas take roots, such as going home, and bringing back new concepts to this mad city The result? Wings begin to emerge, breaking the cycle of feeling stagnant. Finally free, the butterfly sheds light on situations that the caterpillar never considered, ending the internal struggle. Although the butterfly and caterpillar are completely different, they are one and the same. What's your perspective on that? Pac? Pac? Pac?!”
submitted by HiCFlashinFruitPunch to KendrickLamar [link] [comments]
All of this is stuff you’ve already heard before so this is just my personal looks at the album, its meaning, and why it’s probably the best rap album we’ll ever see.
If you have listened to TPAB all the way through then you remember that in the final track, Mortal Man, it’s Kendrick and someone else talking. I put this together and it’s just the conversation they have so you can easily read it and see who is talking when.
This is how I interpret albums meaning: TPAB is about the issues that African Americans will face due to the neglect of the U.S. government. The idea of the butterfly is a person who has become famous, or has power. That’s why in tracks like Wesley’s Theory, the opening track, the person talking says, “When the four corners of this cocoon collide You'll slip through the cracks hopin' that you'll survive Gather your weight, take a deep look inside Are you really who they idolize? To pimp a butterfly.” A butterfly is a transformed caterpillar, so in TPAB the idea of a caterpillar is someone who the government, or really anyone for that matter, doesn’t care about. Once they become famous (transform) and have power, they are treated better or like a butterfly.
Also, fun fact about TPAB that you prob already know. The original title was going to be “To Pimp a Caterpillar.” This was because it would then abbreviate to “2PAC” instead of TPAB.
Now for the conversation:
Kendrick: “I remember you was conflicted, misusing your influence. Sometimes I did the same, abusing my power full of resentment. Found myself screaming in a hotel room. I didn’t wanna self destruct. The evils of Lucy was all around me, so I went running for answers. Until I came home, but that didn’t stop survivors guilt. Going back and forth, trying to convince myself the stripes I earned, or maybe how A-1 my foundation was. But while my loved ones were fighting a continuous war back in the dirty, I was entering a new one. A war that was based on apartheid and discrimination. Made me wanna go back to the city and tell the homies what I learned, the word was respect. Just because you wore a different gang color than mine's doesn't mean I can't respect you as a black man. Forgetting all the pain and hurt we caused each other in these streets. If I respect you, we unify and stop the enemy from killing us, but I don't know, I'm no mortal man, maybe I'm just another n*. Shit and that's all I wrote. I was gonna call it Another N** but, it ain't really a poem, I just felt like it's something you probably could relate to. Other than that, now that I finally got a chance to holla at you. I always wanted to ask you about a certain situa--, about a metaphor actually, you spoke on the ground. What you mean 'bout that, what the ground represent?”
Friend: “The ground is gonna open up and swallow the evil…”
Kendrick - “Right…”
Friend: “That's how I see it, my word is bond. I see--and the ground is the symbol for the poor people, the poor people is gonna open up this whole world and swallow up the rich people. Cause the rich people gonna be so fat, they gonna be so appetising, you know what I'm saying, wealthy, appetizing. he poor gonna be so poor and hungry, you know what I'm saying it's gonna be like... there might be some cannibalism out this mutha, they might eat the rich.”
Kendrick: “Aight so let me ask you this then, do you see yourself as somebody that's rich or somebody that made the best of their own opportunities?”
Friend: “I see myself as a natural born hustler, a true hustler in every sense of the word. I took nothin', I took the opportunities, I worked at the most menial and degrading job and built myself up so I could get it to where I owned it. I went from having somebody manage me to me hiring the person that works my management company. I changed everything I realized my destiny in a matter of five years you know what I'm saying I made myself a millionaire. I made millions for a lot of people now it's time to make millions for myself, you know what I'm saying. I made millions for the record companies, I made millions for these movie companies, now I make millions for us.”
Kendrick: “And through your different avenues of success, how would you say you managed to keep a level of sanity?”
Friend: “and by my faith in "all good things come to those that stay true. You know what I'm saying, and it was happening to me for a reason, you know what I'm saying, I was noticing, shit, I was punching the right buttons and it was happening. So it's no problem, you know I mean it's a problem but I'm not finna let them know. I'm finna go straight through.”
Kendrick: “Would you consider yourself a fighter at heart or somebody that only reacts when they back is against the wall?”
Friend: “Shit, I like to think that at every opportunity I've ever been threatened with resistance, it's been met with resistance. And not only me but it goes down my family tree. You know what I'm saying, it's in my veins to fight back.”
Kendrick: “Aight well, how long you think it take before n***** be like, we fighting a war, I'm fighting a war I can't win and I wanna lay it all down.”
Friend: “In this country a black man only have like 5 years we can exhibit maximum strength, and that's right now while you a teenager, while you still strong or while you still wanna lift weights, while you still wanna shoot back. Cause once you turn 30 it's like they take the heart and soul out of a man, out of a black man in this country. And you don't wanna fight no more. And if you don't believe me you can look around, you don't see no loud mouth 30-year old muthafuckas.”
Kendrick: “That's crazy, because me being one of your offspring of the legacy you left behind I can truly tell you that there's nothing but turmoil goin' on so I wanted to ask you what you think is the future for me and my generation today?”
Friend: “I think that n***** is tired of grabbin' shit out the stores and next time it's a riot there's gonna be, like, uh, bloodshed for real. I don't think America know that. I think American think we was just playing and it's gonna be some more playing but it ain't gonna be no playing. It's gonna be murder, you know what I'm saying, it's gonna be like Nat Turner, 1831, up in this muthafucka. You know what I'm saying, it's gonna happen.”
Kendrick: “That's crazy man. In my opinion, only hope that we kinda have left is music and vibrations, lotta people don't understand how important it is. Sometimes I be like, get behind a mic and I don't know what type of energy I'mma push out, or where it comes from. Trip me out sometimes.”
Friend: “Because the spirits, we ain't even really rappin', we just letting our dead homies tell stories for us.”
Kendrick: I wanted to read one last thing to you. It's actually something a good friend had wrote describing my world. It says: "The caterpillar is a prisoner to the streets that conceived it. Its only job is to eat or consume everything around it, in order to protect itself from this mad city. While consuming its environment the caterpillar begins to notice ways to survive. One thing it noticed is how much the world shuns him, but praises the butterfly. The butterfly represents the talent, the thoughtfulness, and the beauty within the caterpillar. But having a harsh outlook on life the caterpillar sees the butterfly as weak and figures out a way to pimp it to his own benefits. Already surrounded by this mad city the caterpillar goes to work on the cocoon which institutionalizes him. He can no longer see past his own thoughts. He's trapped. When trapped inside these walls certain ideas take roots, such as going home, and bringing back new concepts to this mad city The result? Wings begin to emerge, breaking the cycle of feeling stagnant. Finally free, the butterfly sheds light on situations that the caterpillar never considered, ending the internal struggle. Although the butterfly and caterpillar are completely different, they are one and the same. What's your perspective on that? Pac? Pac? Pac?!”
2024.05.20 03:58 TheLifeGodGaveMe I Don’t Want To Do This Anymore
My heart is torn and trapped in a sunken place. My mind is weighed down with things I don’t want to face. I wish that everything would just go away. I wish. I wish. I wish I could believe that everything is going to be okay.
But it’s not.
And that’s too much for me to handle and deal with. So I pop the pills, snort the lines, smoke the blunts and drink the fifths.
I gotta stay faded.
When I come back from my trip of avoidance, the problems are still there. The burdens are too much for me to bear. So I make the decision to clock out of life because I just don’t care
— anymore.
It all makes perfect sense now — I’m better off dead. Even if death doesn’t solve the problems, at least all of these troubling thoughts will be out of my head.
I’ve tried being strong.
I’ve been strong all of my life and I don’t have any strength left. I’m trapped in a sunken place called life and my heart is bereft. All of my hope is depleted and I’m so desperate to be free. I don’t want happiness anymore. I don’t want anymore chances. I don’t want to be me.
I don’t want this life. I don’t want the strife. I’m tired of fighting everything and everyone. I just want it all to be done.
I don’t want to do this anymore.
submitted by TheLifeGodGaveMe to TheLifeGodGaveMe [link] [comments]
But it’s not.
And that’s too much for me to handle and deal with. So I pop the pills, snort the lines, smoke the blunts and drink the fifths.
I gotta stay faded.
When I come back from my trip of avoidance, the problems are still there. The burdens are too much for me to bear. So I make the decision to clock out of life because I just don’t care
— anymore.
It all makes perfect sense now — I’m better off dead. Even if death doesn’t solve the problems, at least all of these troubling thoughts will be out of my head.
I’ve tried being strong.
I’ve been strong all of my life and I don’t have any strength left. I’m trapped in a sunken place called life and my heart is bereft. All of my hope is depleted and I’m so desperate to be free. I don’t want happiness anymore. I don’t want anymore chances. I don’t want to be me.
I don’t want this life. I don’t want the strife. I’m tired of fighting everything and everyone. I just want it all to be done.
I don’t want to do this anymore.
- A poem by NaTarsha Harris
2024.05.20 03:45 Pale_toes9156 CHEESE
a poem to my love that has helped me through hard times, CHEESE
cheese
whether cheddar, Cobe jack, mozzarella, or Swiss
you always fill my life with bliss
pared with pasta, toast, or even bagels to
you will always have your beautiful yellow hue
no matter how hole ridden you can be
I hope you will always be with me
I don't want to make this to cheesy
so, if you leave just bring me down easy
-to cheese for me
submitted by Pale_toes9156 to Poems [link] [comments]
cheese
whether cheddar, Cobe jack, mozzarella, or Swiss
you always fill my life with bliss
pared with pasta, toast, or even bagels to
you will always have your beautiful yellow hue
no matter how hole ridden you can be
I hope you will always be with me
I don't want to make this to cheesy
so, if you leave just bring me down easy
-to cheese for me
2024.05.20 03:44 Joe0991 [Discussion] How to get past feeling like being creative is a waste of time
TLDR at bottom
I really have an urge to write or paint or make music, all of which I have tried. I’ve painted a couple of”decent” things, made one ok beat, and written a couple decent poems. All of those took forever and the end result felt nowhere near worth the effort. So now when I get the urge again I just don’t do it because it seems pointless if the end result is something that is just there now. I’m not good enough to make money from it, and the process is too frustrating/stressful to do it for relaxation or entertainment. Yet I still have the urge to be creative.
My idea of something being worthwhile is if it makes money, makes someone feel/think something, or brings joy. So if I make some mediocre painting that then just gets put away, or even hung on my wall, at that point it’s just there, taking up space.
I try to be pretty self aware, so I realize this sounds like it may be a “see a therapist” issue. However, the rest of my life is great. This is really only an issue when it comes to wanting to be creative.
TLDR: I have the urge to be creative but I can’t get past feeling like doing so would be a waste of time//effort
submitted by Joe0991 to GetMotivated [link] [comments]
I really have an urge to write or paint or make music, all of which I have tried. I’ve painted a couple of”decent” things, made one ok beat, and written a couple decent poems. All of those took forever and the end result felt nowhere near worth the effort. So now when I get the urge again I just don’t do it because it seems pointless if the end result is something that is just there now. I’m not good enough to make money from it, and the process is too frustrating/stressful to do it for relaxation or entertainment. Yet I still have the urge to be creative.
My idea of something being worthwhile is if it makes money, makes someone feel/think something, or brings joy. So if I make some mediocre painting that then just gets put away, or even hung on my wall, at that point it’s just there, taking up space.
I try to be pretty self aware, so I realize this sounds like it may be a “see a therapist” issue. However, the rest of my life is great. This is really only an issue when it comes to wanting to be creative.
TLDR: I have the urge to be creative but I can’t get past feeling like doing so would be a waste of time//effort
2024.05.20 03:36 liltacobabyslurp [POEM] How Is Your Heart by Charles Bukowski
submitted by liltacobabyslurp to Poetry [link] [comments]
2024.05.20 03:30 xCaptainCl3mentinex When I published "Wilted Roses" my poem book "Behind The Veil" was already at 1.6k reads, and now its about to be overtaken!
 | Behind The Veil was published for last years NaPoWriMo competition from WattpadPoetry. By the end of the month of April, it had gained a very fast 1.5k views, but, understandably, after the contest was over, views were slow- especially because the book is no longer being updated. submitted by xCaptainCl3mentinex to Wattpad [link] [comments] A few months later, I decided I missed following WattpadPoetry's word prompts, and made my own 50 word prompts, to challenge myself in a new, independent book. Due to the lack of rules, I enjoyed Wilted Roses more, and the poems turned out better, as I wasn't bound to "one poem a day", "no more than 10 lines". At first the reads were very slow. It took months to gain the first couple hundred, and then it sped up to a consistent 100 views a month, which I was satisfied with. But then, about 3 months ago, when it had been sitting at about 500 reads, it had a huge boost in reads (likely due to the fact I was writing 1-3 poems daily for a week) I got #1 out 300k ranked under "poetry" which lasted about one or two weeks, and by the end of those two weeks I'd went from 500 reads to 1.2k. Since then, I've had a bit of a burnout, and updates have been slow, but considering that fact, it has still been rising in views, and is looking to take over "Behind The Veil" very soon. |
2024.05.20 03:28 Commercial-Net-1539 PROPHETIC POETRY REDDIT
 | POEM (EÀRTH AS A SHADOW) submitted by Commercial-Net-1539 to u/Commercial-Net-1539 [link] [comments] |
2024.05.20 03:27 Kiwi-Poet On Loving Another Artist
We wanted this:
an almost-love that broke something,
made poetry sweat from our pores.
But I’m colder than I should be.
I was supposed to—I still
make mosaics from broken things.
I wasn’t going to think of us
as something to be fixed—that
was never the point. You made me forget.
Do you ache, like me? Do you think
about the time we lost to ambition?
So much of us was torn off,
chewed, spit out—displayed
in vitro. You belong
to me like you belong
to the portraits you burned in my house.
You were my words. I lived in you.
I have nothing left to break.
Comment 1
Comment 2
--
Note: Hey all! I'm hoping for some feedback on what works/doesn't work for this poem. I didn't have a particular form in mind for this, so right now it's more or less freestyle.
submitted by Kiwi-Poet to OCPoetry [link] [comments]
an almost-love that broke something,
made poetry sweat from our pores.
But I’m colder than I should be.
I was supposed to—I still
make mosaics from broken things.
I wasn’t going to think of us
as something to be fixed—that
was never the point. You made me forget.
Do you ache, like me? Do you think
about the time we lost to ambition?
So much of us was torn off,
chewed, spit out—displayed
in vitro. You belong
to me like you belong
to the portraits you burned in my house.
You were my words. I lived in you.
I have nothing left to break.
Comment 1
Comment 2
--
Note: Hey all! I'm hoping for some feedback on what works/doesn't work for this poem. I didn't have a particular form in mind for this, so right now it's more or less freestyle.
2024.05.20 03:16 _toggleMeSoftly I wrote a poem for Dark Kenny
Snow’s head looked into the mirror today,
“Alright, looks like there’s something that you’re just gonna need to say.”
“You can see I’m getting flak.”
“Someone said you’re smoking crack.”
“Understand the sdrows I do not ___.”
“Pretend you didn’t meet me yesterday.”
👟👟👟
submitted by _toggleMeSoftly to DarkKenny [link] [comments]
“Alright, looks like there’s something that you’re just gonna need to say.”
“You can see I’m getting flak.”
“Someone said you’re smoking crack.”
“Understand the sdrows I do not ___.”
“Pretend you didn’t meet me yesterday.”
👟👟👟
2024.05.20 03:13 nodeadpoets [POEM] Adam’s Curse by W.B. Yeats
submitted by nodeadpoets to Poetry [link] [comments]
2024.05.20 03:00 AutoModerator Weekly Creativity showcase.
Hi all,
Please share your recent creation in this thread. It could be your painting, photos, digital art, VFX, vlog, apps, crafts, decoration, poems, stories or any other creative pursuit.
Posts on this topic in the main sub might still be allowed if it is substantial work, but will otherwise be removed as per moderator discretion.
Note: Make sure to include a brief caption/description for your links.
submitted by AutoModerator to Nepal [link] [comments]
Please share your recent creation in this thread. It could be your painting, photos, digital art, VFX, vlog, apps, crafts, decoration, poems, stories or any other creative pursuit.
Posts on this topic in the main sub might still be allowed if it is substantial work, but will otherwise be removed as per moderator discretion.
Note: Make sure to include a brief caption/description for your links.
2024.05.20 02:51 peteski Senryu poem, Unknown Japanese 3rd grader (@stoppingoffplace)
 | submitted by peteski to Thisisnthappiness [link] [comments] |
2024.05.20 02:50 Automatic-Ganache-25 A butterfly Nightmare
Here's a poem about a butterfly trying to outrun a forest fire:
With wings of wonder, she danced in the air A fleeting beauty, beyond compare But danger lurked, in the flames that drew near A forest fire, that brought forth her fear
She fluttered fast, with a desperate pace Trying to outrun, the inferno's embrace But the heat was intense, the smoke was thick And her delicate wings, began to sick
She beat them fiercely, with all her might But the fire was faster, and consumed the light Her wings were scorched, her body weak And she fell to the ground, her life to seek
In a sea of ashes, she lay so still A tiny victim, of a burning hill Her beauty was lost when it got tossed in the flames as it intensity roared And her once enigmatic frame burned the same as her majestic spirit as it soared
submitted by Automatic-Ganache-25 to amaturepoerty [link] [comments]
With wings of wonder, she danced in the air A fleeting beauty, beyond compare But danger lurked, in the flames that drew near A forest fire, that brought forth her fear
She fluttered fast, with a desperate pace Trying to outrun, the inferno's embrace But the heat was intense, the smoke was thick And her delicate wings, began to sick
She beat them fiercely, with all her might But the fire was faster, and consumed the light Her wings were scorched, her body weak And she fell to the ground, her life to seek
In a sea of ashes, she lay so still A tiny victim, of a burning hill Her beauty was lost when it got tossed in the flames as it intensity roared And her once enigmatic frame burned the same as her majestic spirit as it soared
2024.05.20 02:47 BobbiNoNoseKnows Brain Waves
My therapist encouraged me to continue writing to help me process. I am Narcoleptic, and cancer has enhanced my Narcolepsy symptoms tenfold. Narcolepsy causes overwhelming amounts of lucid dreaming, so my dreams feel very real. My lucid dreaming as of late is always the same scene each time that I dream. The beach was always my safe space. I would run away there as a teen. Now, the thought of it feels like hell because it has become my hell in this hospital. It is torturing me. It’s difficult to describe how crushing it feels when you awaken from repetitive lucid dreaming. It almost leaves you breathless and I wrote this poem to reflect what I have felt these past few weeks. Excuse my language in my poem- but no other word would suffice for exactly how I felt in he moment.
submitted by BobbiNoNoseKnows to lymphoma [link] [comments]
2024.05.20 02:39 NyxShadowhawk Dionysus by Lamia Vox (Aleister Crowley's poem set to music)
 | submitted by NyxShadowhawk to dionysus [link] [comments] |
2024.05.20 02:34 IndividualBottle7075 A poem about breaking up because she moved countries. feedback appreciated!
I tried to burn her into my memory Engrave her curves into my fingers and savour the sweet feeling of her lips on my neck In a futile attempt to make us infinite
I was living in the future viewing the present as the past Trying to make my future past special How do you fit boundless love into finite days?
Moments that you make count are just as long as regular ones
I reach for the body I memorized The ghostly blur of soft skin and pink lips and brown eyes in my bed is not her Somewhere, she is real
My ghost grows more transparent each day No amount of love could have made her real We were always condemned to fade
If I had kissed her more, Or if we had never met, I’d be alone now
You cannot outsmart time It will always pass, and take with it what it wants.
submitted by IndividualBottle7075 to ShittyPoetry [link] [comments]
I was living in the future viewing the present as the past Trying to make my future past special How do you fit boundless love into finite days?
Moments that you make count are just as long as regular ones
I reach for the body I memorized The ghostly blur of soft skin and pink lips and brown eyes in my bed is not her Somewhere, she is real
My ghost grows more transparent each day No amount of love could have made her real We were always condemned to fade
If I had kissed her more, Or if we had never met, I’d be alone now
You cannot outsmart time It will always pass, and take with it what it wants.
2024.05.20 02:31 Ehermagerd John Cooper Clarke @ Set Theatre
Went to see the living legend in the Set Theatre on Saturday.
The man is an icon, but I felt he absolutely struggled to get through that gig. Incoherent at times, shortening poems etc. He even almost fell over onstage at one point. The magic is gone.
Was anyone else there? Tell me I wasn’t imagining this?
submitted by Ehermagerd to Kilkenny [link] [comments]
The man is an icon, but I felt he absolutely struggled to get through that gig. Incoherent at times, shortening poems etc. He even almost fell over onstage at one point. The magic is gone.
Was anyone else there? Tell me I wasn’t imagining this?
2024.05.20 02:26 Western-Gold-2523 How many poems should I do learn? (Last minute)
I have learned 4 poems only (edexcel): charge of the light brigade, exposure, war photographer and the prelude, is that not enough?
submitted by Western-Gold-2523 to GCSE [link] [comments]
2024.05.20 02:14 Holland_Eley A Poem I Wrote, MST
Military Love
By: Amy R. Williams
I loved you Red, White and Blue.
You said you’d be there and what did you do?
You RAPED me and said it wasn’t you.
You blamed me and gave me an article 15.
While you got off Scott free.
I reported you to higher ups,
they just laughed and covered it up.
As I cry in silence all alone
contemplating going to my heavenly home.
A bottle of pills on my nightstand.
Should I take them one by one or
pop them all till the bottle is done.
I can’t live with the pain, sorrow and grief,
there’s no comfort, support or peace.
Images of what you did linger loudly in my head
You’re too big for me to fight, so I pray instead.
I know your history Red, White and Blue.
There’re other women you’ve done this to.
Confess your sins and admit to the rapes,
Maybe then you’ll give them space, to heal!
That’s all for now as I turn my back to you.
No SALUTES to you
Red, White and Blue!
submitted by Holland_Eley to womenveterans [link] [comments]
By: Amy R. Williams
I loved you Red, White and Blue.
You said you’d be there and what did you do?
You RAPED me and said it wasn’t you.
You blamed me and gave me an article 15.
While you got off Scott free.
I reported you to higher ups,
they just laughed and covered it up.
As I cry in silence all alone
contemplating going to my heavenly home.
A bottle of pills on my nightstand.
Should I take them one by one or
pop them all till the bottle is done.
I can’t live with the pain, sorrow and grief,
there’s no comfort, support or peace.
Images of what you did linger loudly in my head
You’re too big for me to fight, so I pray instead.
I know your history Red, White and Blue.
There’re other women you’ve done this to.
Confess your sins and admit to the rapes,
Maybe then you’ll give them space, to heal!
That’s all for now as I turn my back to you.
No SALUTES to you
Red, White and Blue!
2024.05.20 02:10 Whorechataluvr A quick poem I wrote at 2 in the morning
Respect's a two-way street we can't seem to reach, we can play the blame game all day long, one minute I'm saying it's not you it's me, next I'm saying it's not me it's you, disrespect foaming out of our mouths like rabies, two things can coexist but it seems like I only exist for the sole purpose of my soul being matched with your sole, the difference between me and you is that my soul's sensitive while your sole's sensitive.
submitted by Whorechataluvr to Poems [link] [comments]