Tag: writing

In primary school, when I showed off my writing
My parents and teachers said it was surprising,
How someone so little as I was so skilled
And my cup of pride was constantly filled.

When I showed off my poems in middle school,
My friends all told me that they were pretty cool,
They told me they liked how they flowed like a river,
And only requested things I could deliver.

In high school my writing got better each day,
But some people told me some things I could change,
I liked the way I had written them just fine,
But some seemed to forget they weren’t theirs but mine.

Now that I’m older they expect more from me,
But this isn’t as easy as it might seem,
I can’t deliver everything that they ask,
They are giving me much more difficult tasks.

I’m trying my best, but they seem disappointed,
And writing has started to fill me with dread,
This image they’ve painted of me is too perfect,
There is no possible way I can reflect it,
My version of me will never measure up,
I look down and see that there’s no pride in my cup.

Author: Stellar

I started writing poetry in elementary school and I just got back into it last month. Most of my poems aren’t about things I’m personally experiencing, but a few of them are. I mostly write for fun because I enjoy it, but sometimes I write to express how I feel.https://interstellarpoetry.wordpress.com

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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 account to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com

to be loved by you
feels just like flying
so easy so light
i could never be crying

to be loved by you
is the most beatiful thing
the warmth you give
like no melody sings

to be loved by you
i cannot describe it
cant wrap it in words
i would never hide it

to be loved by you
is a precious experience
to bad that it stopped
cause of my inconvenience

to not be loved by you
is the most humbling thing
to be back “down to earth”
my heart longs for your wings

to not be loved by you
taught me so many things
i cant wish, i cant hope
i have to earn my blessings.

I started writing texts on 25th of September 2020 because i got My Heart broken and didnt know how to cope with My sadness.
https://zmimsytexts.wordpress.com

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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 account to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com

Fluffy widow-maker
squatting on the ridge,
go heavy on the rails.
Rot quickly and let us breath
free, while we are still standing.

Bone white lips
tolerant of a tighter lockdown,
share sloppy snow kisses,
transforming all branches to birch
waiting to crack temperamentally
on our heads.

Her smile, polar bear smooth,
frightened the twisted petioles
daring to dangle outside of
their new diameter.
Silver diamond marks
like veering sleigh tracks,
dwarfed and bedraggled.
Her children shedding bark.

They say the tiny flakes
are the real monsters,
painted white to minimize
disease.
Icicle tickles
dying in daylight, still
beats the sun damage, fungi
and careless cracks that often kill.

K.Hartless

Yardsale of Thoughts
khartless.com

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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 account to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com

I’m new, fresh, and a blank slate in every experience I live.

You come along and make me feel.
You being every life connecting to my world.
Cross my path, and I become ripe for an adventure.

It’s random or intentional.
It’s welcome. Truly appreciated.

Change comes out of discussion, influence, suggestion, disappointment, care, and investment.
Life gets richer from experiences changing us. We’re molded out of intensity or subtleness in every episode.

You contribute to the ever-updating version of me.
The variance in my thoughts ready to encounter the subsequent experience.

Life seems elaborate and intricate while I focus on how to become coherent.
My complexity deepens while the definitions of myself are simplifying.

How could I be otherwise?

Susi Bocks – writer/author/poet, has self-published two books – Feeling Human and Every Day I Pause. You can find her work at IWriteHer.com or follow her on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/MyHumanityInWrittenForm/, where she invites you to read her thoughts and get to know her. Bocks’ work has been published in the anthology SMITTEN: This Is What Love Looks Like: Poetry by Women for Women and in Scarlet Leaf Review, VitaBrevis, Spillwords, Literary Yard, as well as other literary magazines.

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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 account to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com

With the strike of midnight,
The day comes to an end.
And also your smile shining bright,
That you were forced to pretend.

Finally you take the mask down,
‘Cause there’s no one around to see.
Your default everlasting frown,
That appears when they let you be.

But you’re never really alone,
With your mind constantly haunting you.
Sitting in your bloody throne,
You think of everything you’ve been through.

The horrors of the hellfire,
Turning your dreams into ashes.
When everything that you even slightly admire,
Falls to the ground and smashes.

You struggle to rise from the pyre,
Trying hard to break the chain.
And even though you’re anything but a liar,
You’ve got an image to maintain.

You get sick and tired of it,
You scream out, ”Enough is enough”.
You think you should give up, you think you should quit,
But deep down, you know it’s nothing but a bluff.

‘Cause you’ve got your pyrrhic pride,
That you just won’t cast aside.
It’s a little too late to think of the downside,
When everything inside of you has already died.

So you hold on to it,
Hide yourself behind your hollow bask.
To live yet another day in repeat,
Once again you wear your mask.

By Coco
An aspiring poet with a poetry blog “Poems from heart” https://poemsfromheartcom.wordpress.com/

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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 account to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com

Friends are good
When they are nice
They keep you the mood
Because there is no price!

If you have someone
Who you call your good friend
Tell that someone
Your friendship has no end!

As long as you are by my side
I will give you my bike
On which you could ride
Or, we could go for a hike!

There are bad friends
Who just wanna suck you up
They are kind of cruel, wicked friends
When they suck you, they say “Bye. Your luck”!

But there are naughty friends
Who are nice but attach a price
But they are fun friends
What do we do to them now?

I’m ACEY for short. I’m a young creative writer who loves writing stories and poems. Check out and follow my website www.aceybooks.wordpress.com

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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 account to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com

I remember the sand castle wiped by those angry waves,
and the lessons of love and hate taught within those brick walls,
and held in breaths of mine and yours,
the chills felt on my neck while we walk those free afternoons near the stone walled castles,
and the hushed talks of ours of love and stolen kisses.

You said you would love me forever,
and I believed in your words,
we were young lads as we ride those winds blowing us away to our dream land,
and there we stayed till the sun creeped on those eastern mountains capped with snow,
and you whispered it was time to leave once again
but we would be back again tomorrow as those stars start to climb the dark blue sky.

Stormy nights kept us awake,
and the candlelight flickered low while our thoughts shrouded in darkness,
demons crept in now and then,
they have been residing for a while in the cracks of those wall crevices,
behind the curtains,
below our bed,
and inside our hearts.
They have been lying low but decide to show up,
we fight them together,
they don’t disappear,
but go back to their hiding again
only to show up again next week.

Dog eared books lying waste on our feet,
their words etched on our minds and our hearts,
you softly murmur those poems in your sleep,
and into my ears,
you were a wasted poet,
and I was one of those words embedded on every poem you wrote,
I was your work and your pride,
I was your secret,
and so you were mine.

Link to my blog – http://edenlawrites.wordpress.com (That Sikkimese Blogger) 
My Instagram – that_sikkimesegirl_ 

About me – An engineering graduate with an interest in art and literature. prefers word building over actual buildings. A self proclaimed writer and an art lover, who now wants to be a blogger with procrastination as her side kick.Is a member of Overthinking Club. Currently struggling with sleeping routine and unemployment.

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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 account to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com

I’m catching flowers in my butterfly net. The pastel netting flies through the wind, just as the creatures behind me. They chase me as if they know they belong there.

There’s flower petals on my words, trying to restore my youth. The butterflies dance through my hair and my eyes grasp the wide view of freedom. I can’t tell the difference, as I am one of them. A form of evolution.

So I come here, where flowers bloom and grow. To maintain the youth, I once lived. Catching roses to manifest true love and tulips, to reinstall clarity. Filling my net with daisy’s, to restore the beauty of innocence. But also, Iris’s, to fill my world with hope and wisdom.

So keep the things that remind you, of the simple life you once lived. Because as life carries on, sometimes you need a break. To catch flowers in a butterfly net.

My name is Autumn Thompson and I am an aspiring poet. I started a blog to finally share my love of words and the depth they hold when put together. I’ve been writing ever since I remember to cope with the world around me, but it’s only until recently I’ve started composing pieces of work with a story to be shared. 
http://thesunandrainblog.wordpress.com

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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 account to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com

Woke up, darkness all around.
Looking for a glimpse of light, nowhere to be found.
Wanna call out for help, I can make no sound.
Fear creeps up my skin. I’m lying on the ground.

Stare into nothingness, let my mind takeover.
Feeling oh so hopeless, it’s like I’m drowning in deep water.
The sound of the silence, gets louder than ever.
Body gets frozen, no linings of silver.

Trapped in my body, trapped in my mind.
I wanna dive deeper, but I’m scared of what I’ll find.
But if I go deep enough, maybe I’ll get to redesign.
All these feelings inside me, that have got ‘emselves intertwined.

And now the air feels heavy, it’s getting harder to breathe.
But hey, maybe it’s a good sign, ‘cause finally I’ll be freed.
If this is how it’s gonna end, no, I’m not afraid.
It’s the thought of having to live again, that’s actually got me scared.

Funny how until the end, the pain still remains.
How do I not get soaked, in this never ending rain?
I don’t wanna wake up and go through it all again.
So, if this end will be my freedom, I’m not gonna complain.

By Coco
An aspiring poet with a poetry blog “Poems from heart” https://poemsfromheartcom.wordpress.com/

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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 account to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com