Industry tips for new poets. Welcome to the Poets family.
Happiness clouds my hate Now that I left things up to fate I love, I care I even dare To let myself have fun Since I've found the one
My reflection? Something I’ve always had an affinity for, before I head out the door I’m sure to check my face, hair and teeth, fresh and clean the way I wish to be perceived on the outside at least but could honestly care less about what I have put inside it. For someone who focuses so much on himself, I find it a little ironic he only looks in the mirror but not too much to his health.
How is it that poetry Can be so poetic The idea of death can be made to sound So free and unapologetic Words can be manipulated
From the ends of the earth, To the depths of the sea; There's no one else I'd ask to be with me. To share the sight of the stary night sky,
Write something, Write anything. For god's sakes, get it out. Let out all the venom in an ink stain framing shout, Let out all the demons in a choir verse devout,
the problem with being a poet in love, is that you savour & trust each word your lover has without question. we are simply in love
Nothing fuels a poet More than the whispers of dismay, The falling tears of sadness, The pain of everyday. Nothing fuels a poet
I possess a weapon. That's right. You read that correctly. I have a weapon. It's perfectly legal, Yet it's more powerful
Write. Good. Now, write some more. Write when you're tired. Write when you're not. Write when it's hard. Write when it's easy.
Stuck in this snowstorm in this small one horse town without a way to get around. The police took my drivers license for no insurance even though they had no evidence. Now I'm stuck without a job feeling like a slob living at mom's without an allowance. I'm writing all night and day doing almost anything to get some pay. Always out busting my ass because it's safer than selling grass. I got this can't stop attitude despite my current situation being crude I know my future is bright. Waking up everyday with a clear hopeful sight of my dreams flying high like a kite in a blue sky.
"A restless year. Four hopeless seasons. Fifty-two obsessive weeks. Three hundred and sixty-five sleepless nights. One poetic journal of change, loss, damage, sorrow, healing, good and evil, chaos and peace, helplessness and hope, summarizing a year's evolution of feelings in fifty-two poems feeding consecutive thoughts day by day."
I'm 21 and I've lived with insecurities my whole life. I'm not going to lie, I still have some. Having a nice body, clear skin, and cute clothes was the most important thing in my life for the longest time. I mean, it is always good to take care of yourself, but we should do it for the right reasons, right? A year ago, I wouldn't go out without make up and let people see me looking "gross." I had breakouts and, even though my boyfriend is the sweetest person and calls me beautiful always, it did not matter to me because I was not able to call myself beautiful. I would spend two hours getting ready, then I would say "well, that is all I can do." I think it is really sad when all you see in yourself are flaws, and you feel like you are not enough. But I was tired of it.