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 is the stream - you can see all poems on Neopoet, live, as they are created.

Profile picture for Jonathan Moore
Pugilist Jan 28, 2014

How Coffee Has Saved the World, Yet Again.

Yesterday I was looking at the sky
and deciding if life was worth living.
Not for me, of course, my life is stellar.
But for these poor sods I witness stumbling
through the day as they reach for misery;
time and time again lamenting their loss
of hope and dreams and every good thing they
might conceive through every fault of their own.
I wonder, should I do the world a service?
Should I end their suffering and my own
annoyance at having to wade through the
morass of desperation they scatter

Profile picture for Lamar Ingraham
Lamar Ingraham Jan 28, 2014

Comfort in These Arms

All my life I have been seeking you
To walk with you in the ways of Christ;
After all the trials you have been through,
It is time you experience a life that is nice.

Comfort is near...

You have been done everything alone,
Or so you believed that you have done so,
But God was there to guide you home,
And made you a branch with leaves to grow.

Protection is here...

Profile picture for Esker
Esker Jan 27, 2014

C r i n o l i n e r

hull shaped
for swift swirl

like the nights
falling thick beneath the
quiet clatter of the light

parking lot ball halls
transitory transitions
lucite from crystal

a cold week pierces
distress through fashionable
wear

angular sun on shadowed
muse faces and rugged ravaged
on the bus
oblivion in the ride
the beauty of the wild
and anonymity of suburbia

gloss skies from a jet
stream vacant and far
south

Profile picture for Barbara Writes
Barbara Writes Jan 27, 2014

I'm Tired

I'm tired with these dopey eyes,
About things I have no control,
Weary teary why cry?
Kill me I'm losing my compose.

I'm taking sleeping meds feeling dope,
Trying to function with the rest of the family,
I fell short everytime, feeling like a loser with no hope,
I can't get it right no natter what I Inframe.

I feel sick with every heart skip,
I wanna cry, but tears cleanses nothing,
Tears won't quench the fire in my tits,
My kindness ain't for others to take for fronting.

S
scribbler Jan 27, 2014

HOMECOMING

Glory, country so they say
is why we go to war
so I'm here now far away.
I don't believe them anymore.

Every day just brings more death
and ear drums battered by the noise
as cordite burns with every breath...
bleeding bodies thrown like toys.

Until I feel....nothing
no fear, no love, not even hate;
no longer human, just a thing
caring nothing for my fate.

Profile picture for alidzain
alidzain Jan 27, 2014

Broken (another version for revision)

Men’s lust and greed have taken you
My child I cry for your innocence
They have stripped you bare
No family’s arms to hold you

Servants of greed have taken you
Your life a nightmare of mindless pain
Filth in their trade of your young flesh
We can only hope, without fulfilment

Traders have destroyed your childhood needs
Shackled by incessant lust of crippled minds
Caging youth in destruction of slavery
Where broken wills, make children slaves

Profile picture for loved
loved Jan 27, 2014

we all are actors

As we age and are about to leave the stage

do not rage… we all are simple actors on a small stage … times the platform ….we stand in just a corner…. as strangers all around …. so I have found a solution…. to lessen human mental aberration …. try and detach from all around… be a man simple and sound …. believe yourself to be a new passenger …about to board a train -----heaven bound… with no return… leaving all memories… for times galleries… some years hence ,someone may recall… we once too traveled…..lessen your human desired burden .. to be remembered.. by whom…..

Profile picture for Jonathan Moore
Pugilist Jan 27, 2014

In a Field, One Lost Day, With Birds

I find few things more annoying
than the overblown tendency
of poets who believe they are
dispensing great, subtle, wisdom
when they are simply muttering
sad words they feel are important
while the rest of us recognise
these are just inconsequential
half formed thoughts completely without
merit or radiant ideas.
It is like a gathering of
crows, each one shouting at the top
of their lungs that they are pretty.
Not me, of course, I am special.