Baskadia

if it's beautiful

A poem that describes the events of social turmoil but is covered by the darkness of the night.

QUESTIONS

How can you appreciate love When you have never experienced hate How can you appreciate satisfaction When you have never experienced lack How can you appreciate the beauty of nature When you have never experienced blindness How can you appreciate the sound of music When you have never experienced deafness How can you appreciate peace When you have never experienced war How can you appreciate success When you have never experienced failure How can you appreciate light When you have never experien

Scent of Hiding

029 Friendly as she is, always gives advice and answers queries. She laughs at every tiny parody, smiles at every little thing---so silly. Her charm was her beauty, a beauty she was insecure and shaky. She attracts souls who need therapy, a normal occurrence of hers every day. Her confidence was seasonal, she's cold but lowkey emotional. But beneath those facades, a stash was hidden, full of worries with no endin'. Midnight was her sweet haven, a time when she was free and in heaven. In the dark

The Woman Who Came In From the Night

The second of Picasso's two full-length plays from the 1940s, Les Quatre Petites Filles, has been translated by Jerome Rothenberg from work he started a few years ago. The passage that Rothenberg uploaded on Poems and Poetics is witty and lovely, evoking Mac Wellman's play Jennie Richee and Ashbery's Girls on the Run. We'd love to read the complete play, but perhaps the Henry Darger connection is too obvious. Note from the translator: Although there may not be as much flash as in the more well-k

HEART OF MAN

The heart of man is sensational. The heart of man is emotional, it is magnificent. The heart of man is cruel. The heart of man is either fragile or desperately wicked. It signifies the nature of human cos man's attitude and characteristics is as a result of his heart. Every step he takes is from the thought he thinks, cos as a man thinks so he is. The condition of his heart is as a gives birth to what he vomits out of his mouth and exhibits. Should the heart be in a good condition, he pours or r

How Do You Want to Die?

A Poem by: Danje E.B

A Birthday Wish From Lexicon And The Fantastic Four

A Birthday Wish composed by myself and four of my closest high school friends, namely, Dr Rhyme AKA Superstar, Don Diego De Shotingo, Hygienic and Gill Sam to a certain lady in high school that has made it's way into the Songs of Lexicon.

"PULL THE PLUG"

My life is now owned delusion Happiness is no longer illusion If Life is a bitch- then dig me a ditch If i pull the plug now I'll free my demons They say i'll be caged in the tunnel of Mammon But, Humans used to say 'There's light at the end of a tunnel- Still, Humans used to pray 'Master, save me from the tunnel' It calls me closer It calls me near Just once and it'll be over Death whispers in my ear. (c) Alex O'bor, 2020. All rights reserved.

Her Name is Love

Short Poem about Love

LOVE POETRY ❤️💕🌹

In the twilight's gentle hue, My heart finds solace, only for you. With each beat, a whispered prayer, In love's embrace, we find repair.

My love for Scrabble

My love for Scrabble is like a fire burning bright, A passion that flares up with every letter placed just right. With every word I form, my excitement starts to soar, As I outsmart my opponents and add to my score. The thrill of finding words that others cannot see, Is like a treasure hunt, a victory. The tiles, they call to me, like gems upon a board, Each one a puzzle to be solved, a challenge to be adored. With every game I play, my love for Scrabble grows, A love that knows no bounds, a lov

The Physical Worlds

A poem which brings to light the different kinds of physical worlds we have and live in. Taken from Different Worlds from The Songs of Lexicon.

New month

In the realm of time, a cycle begins anew, As the old month departs, the new month breaks through. With each rise of the sun, a fresh chapter unfolds, An unwritten canvas, waiting to be told. September arrives with a gentle embrace, A month of transition, a change in its pace. Leaves whisper secrets in the autumnal breeze, Colours of amber and gold adorn the trees. The days grow shorter, the nights a bit colder, As nature prepares for its grand transformation older. In this tapestry of time, a c

Behind My Pillow

My world is peace My world is harmony My world is growth My world is joy My world is love My world is the future My world is my dream. Freedom comes after You find what enslaved you. In a realm of no pain Only inner peace That clover around your imagination Back to present Stained mud imitates blood Role play is left Unattended to, TV's no Longer have a function The movie is right in front of your pupil For now the apocalypse Has not yet come. Back to my pillow In nights of after Struggled days,

Life As A Poet

My very first poem I ever wrote. I was either 13 or 14 years old. After that, I knew writing was something I was born to do.

I Dream

032 I dream a dream where I am in the stage, singing a song and dancing along the rhythm. Where they throw roses and shouts my name. It is a dream I wish to play. I dream a dream where I am travelling, to here and there to the ends of the world. Where I capture scenes and preserve in negatives. It is a dream I wish to capture. I dream a dream where my clothes will be worn, models will walk on the runway and I'll appear at end of the show. Where I can see stunning dresses I made. It is a dream I

IS OUR FATE - ALEXIS KARPOUZOS

Poetry by alexis karpouzos

MASK

She is sad, She is depressed She is lost, She is scared..... But everything stays behind that mask.... The mask of a happy, lively child Who smiles everytime With a life full of rainbows And not a shade of grey And then comes that time, When she is all alone, Locked in her personal hell Slowly removing her mask, She cries, she screams, she bawl Until she sleeps No one can understand, They will never But sometimes she wishes That they can feel, That all these smiles are fake, That her eyes had lo

Nature's Beauty

A new poem from an anonymous poet...

Carousel of pain

Dark poam of self torture