What it feels

fuzzy food in fridge
flushed today
smell lingers
can it be washed away?

desperate house plants
bought with good intentions
gave up ghosts through kitchen window
carcasses remain

breakfasts of cold toast and peanut butter

outside, a sanctuary of thistles

inside, the dark imbues the body bones
absorbed in daily doses
just enough to quell
thoughts that foment rebellion

these I gave to you, I think.
my remembered lover
my old optimist
my partner of journey
my willing prisoner

spurn me now
for I have killed you
the worst of all crimes
a spirit stilled

melancholic

Hello, I am Lee Dunn. Working stiff (retired).  Avid reader, dreamer, and searcher. I write some eclectic poetry, prose, personal stories, and fiction. Have had work published in the Shelburne Free Press And Spillwords Press. I blog on WordPress at https://secret-lifeof.com/

If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram (if you have one) to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com

A Reverse Poem 3.0

Nothing is worth feeling anymore
Don’t ever think that
You deserve the things you loved
Because you know
Only the fog is left to fill you
And you no longer believe
Magic and Miracles
Because your soul contains
Emptiness,
You do not live on
Ambition and hopefulness
Because you have found
Only disappointed
You are not destined to
Find your joy
PS – Now read from bottom to top

Blog: https://amankumar001.wordpress.com/

If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram (if you have one) to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com

A summer day

My fingers’ grip on the pen loosens,
as i write,
fighting against the heat on a hot summer day.
Drops of sweat, trickling down my forehead, tempting me to put the pen down and wipe them off.
A sudden, short lived gush of wind brushes past my sweaty face,
as if teasing me,
forcing me to reminisce about chilly winter mornings.
Heat radiating off my body, getting trapped within my clothes.
I feel the roof of my mouth drying up but the words on the page are all I care about.
It’s a raging battle between the forces of nature and the force of the words being formed in front of me.
I continue fighting, as the intensity of the heat slowly starts decreasing,
the sun starts moving down,
it’s light less blinding, as if retreating from the fight and soon enough, my old friend, the moon shows
up.
The scorching heat, long gone.
I look up, smiling triumphantly,
as the cool wind blows over the pages of my book,
as if greeting me.
And thus another day has passed by,
when my own alternate universe,
made up of something much deeper than words, has taken over.
Hey, I am Aarya Kale. I write about small, insignificant things that we all go through in everyday life and
put them in the mind of the reader from a different perspective.
Link to my blog:
Instagram username:
@_aaryakale

If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram (if you have one) to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com

You’re Not the Dragon

As she looks in the mirror at the bruise under her right eye
Her eyes thoroughly scan the room
As if the emptiness of it could give her away
And when she sits on the cold floor
Covered with towels that blush
Tired, in a hushed voice
She aimlessly repeats
You’re not the dragon
You’re not the dragon
For the dragon is defeated
But you’re not. “
Hi, I’m Nadia and I am a new writer here on wordpress. I love writing poems and traveling. I hope you like my work and if you don’t forget to check out my blog.”
Blog:
If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram (if you have one) to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com

L’amour Est Un Oiseau Rebelle

I picture pews all around us
as a spotlight of soft golden light shines on him,
illuminating the bright, rich ringlets of hair
that frame his magnificent eyes.

I hear a chorus of holy hymns
so touching and divine
they could only have been composed by the holy one himself.

Can you hear it?

It intensifies as my eyes trace over every inch of his marble-perfect features.
The sound gradually builds up until it is a deafening echo in my ears.

My soul screams in ecstasy
My heart burns with passion
beating faster
with every divine detail of his face
that I take in
My entire body warms up
as blood races through my veins,
the aftermath of my rapid heartbeat.

He radiates a light so blinding
it’s as if he is standing directly in front of the sun
after stepping right out of heaven

I do not lust after him
I do not love him

I worship him.

I wish to throw myself at his feet
praying he will have mercy on me
and outstretch his radiant hand to me

So I may take his hand
and kiss the shining ring on his finger
like the heavenly king that he is.

 My name is Karen. I do not consider myself a poet but I do have a lot of words taking up space in my head that need to be let out. I encourage you to check this poem out on my blog because there is art and music accompanying it.

My blog is: https://onestarthoughts.wordpress.com/

and my IG handle is @kolivas005 (https://www.instagram.com/kolivas005/)

If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram (if you have one) to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com

Salute

Dear Sub-consciousness
What drives you to whisper
Into my ears
Spying through my thoughts
Flickering my decisions
Of right and wrong
Dear Sub-consciousness
What drives you to bellow
Filling my head with noise
Murdering my conscience
Aligning with my dark storm
Launching your power
Through my worlds
Decaying everything
That had ever lived before
Opening my forbidden doors
So that the demons and fears
Will be unleashed on the low
Land of horrors
That were temporarily forgotten, gore
Filled my islands
Never seen so much violence
But now you did all
Of this so you could be in control
Dear Sub-consciousness
You oscillate my beliefs
Of fake and real
If it’s an ethical oath or a deal
With the devil, meals
Were served on poisoned golden plates
Made of the finest products of venom,
Lies and the Grinch’s sad tears
Feeding them to my thoughts, mere-
Ly a meal, indeed, though it was
A raw material of catastrophe
Greet my wars with killer grins
And insidious hellos
Mixed with undercurrents
Of plans and silent vows
Of revenge and destruction
Say hello
to my sharpest
Weapon, my mind
Alas, it was also
my strongest
Distraction, so many lies
Dear Stranger
Meet my Sub-consciousness
He is in control, I am nothing
But a shell, a martyr, a soldier who’s facing many battles
Yet there’s nothing honorable about my job
My suicidal
Pointless missions
No, this is not addressing depression
This is just a soldier venting
About their scarred memories and hard-earned lessons
So Dear Sub-consciousness
Have we agreed upon
Our limitations
Or will we cross our lines
Like you already have done with mine

Hey there! I’m Nour Lee (obviously) and I’m a writer that passionately writes about problems in general,  but in real life, I can’t take life too seriously. I would appreciate if you stumbled upon my blog at https://nour7.home.blog.

If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram (if you have one) to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com

A Broken Knight

I rode into the forest thinking I’ll save a damsel in distress,
Prepared I was, I thought, for anything out there in the wilderness,
From as small as having cuts on my body from the branches of the trees,
I endured everything else horrible the grove could throw at me to bring me to my knees,
Then when I got lost in the maze of the thicket,
I started losing hope and thought life to be wicked,
But air brought to me a girl’s voice that guided me to safety,
I was mesmerized by her voice and, when I saw her, her beauty,
Her hair was blonde, skin fair and eyes blue,
She stood there looking out of the only window of a tower on top of which a flag flew,
I stood behind the trees and watched her talk to people who passed by,
Till I went up to the foot of the tower and, to her, said hi,
She talked to me as she would to anyone else she met,
But every word she spoke and every smile she gave took away my breath,
I asked if she would ever consider me deserving of her,
She said she had responsibilities, that she had to attend to, so I would have to wait for her,
Since she said she loved me but she didn’t have time for me yet,
I kept going back to tower to talk to her and give her whatever I could get,
She thanked me profusely for all that I had given,
That I had been someone who was gifted to her by heaven,
I thought my unconditional love would relieve her of the pain and agony that she always seemed to convey,
So I sold my horse to buy a rope strong enough for her, eventual, escape,
I thought I had found myself, in her, a wife and a willow,
Until that day, and for many days after, I was greeted by a closed window,
Little did I know that she had family that didn’t need help in that tower so high,
That she had a man that she already loved and I wouldn’t have her as much as I tried,
She faked the love and the smiles to get what she wanted,
I was just some other guy who got played and discarded,
I, the knight, had rode into the forest thinking that I will save a damsel in distress,
Little did I know that, at the end, I would be the one who needs saving and somebody’s largesse.

Hi! I am Jayaram. I reside in Chicago. Currently, working on myself, trying to fix what’s broken in me through writing. Movies, a bit of sports and software programming keep me alive. You can visit my blog at  https://jayaramguda.wordpress.com

If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram (if you have one) to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com