Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.
This shows the poems in just one one workshop. To see all the poems on Neopoet, go to the stream. Or go to the ">workshop page itself, where you can find out more about the syllabus.
After being in pain for too long
I can now sing a song
gone with the tip of a knife
I will regain a life
this broken tooth will be gone.
With knee on my chest
The dentist knew best
Tooth gave way
Dentist flew away
They say he has gone west
La La
Women are raped, who's to shame
Cops make blunder, who's to blame
dignity stolen
hearts broken
carnal instincts name of thy game
Is life worth living without being conscious
mute witness feigning to be unconscious.
Isn't this mass anesthesia
and forced pseudo inertia
a stigma to our social subconscious?
a.
It's three am in the twilight
my iPad is my nightlight
the music on my iPhone
drones on all night long
and I can't sleep to save my life.
b.
I woke up feeling well, took heed
as tomorrow is not promise me
taking one day at a time in my stride
moving about taking my time
not to take for granted this day indeed.
c.
I'm awake early and feeling great
immediately rising up in haste
as those abusive words that depress
is driven away leaving me fresh
The thing I fear most is the fear;
the struggle to hide from the tears.
The body of me
I'd thank you not see,
for at heart I am quite in arrears.
I met a young GI in a bar
why do they hate us so far?
I held back no hate
he gagged on my bait
the whole world is your weeping scar.
I could be torn apart by a wild boar
or dissected by a jealous whore
but cancer will not get a chance
I will not play that sickly dance
A gun will splatter the deadly gore.
My entire life is full of strife
the violence is unbearably rife
the scent of the blood
has become a flood
more than a gun or a knife.
1.
You can tear my clothes, if you wish
Rape me too that’s what you like to fish
But play safe use a bloody condom
Don’t go about fucking at random
Our concoction will make a relishing dish
2.
She looked at me in broad day light
With eyes as wide open as a kite
She smelled the odour I issued
Then wanted me to be sued
Did she know might is right?
Whatever the poets would write,
if dark or those of delight,
they must affect,
and well reflect,
for the blind and the one with sight.
Eyes open sunken and blank
as if fate had pulled a prank
eyeballs in rubor
pupils in tumor
sans any tear in their bank