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Leora 2h
There was red, and there was blue.
Can’t forget orange, yellow, and purple too.
There’s one missing,
So vibrant and bright—
It’s the color of life,
Reminds me of something pure.
It’s the cure to sadness,
My true happiness.
It’s imprinted in my brain;
I’ll never forget the color’s shade.
It’s his eyes—
My forever and true light.
Vrinda 16h
"Why do you treat me right?
talking late in the night
staring in your pretty eyes
you're so pretty, that I might
might pull up a fight
the stars above shine oh so bright
yet, I only see you far in sight
why?"
My left eye sees the honest things
A puddle, sky, a skipping stone
It watches birds with steady wings
And knows which socks are not my own

It can spot a single tear
It sees the cracks behind a smile
It knows what’s honest, sharp, and clear
It watches quiet all the while

My right eye is full of play
It sees a dragon in a tree
It turns a puddle into a bay
And swears that squirrels drink cups of tea

It just loves to tell tall tales
It sees a boat where there’s a shoe
It sees dancing trees and talking snails
And paints the sky a deeper blue

One eye will whisper, “That is so.”
It points to facts and steady ground
The other shouts, “A UFO!”
Whenever leaves go swirling ’round

Together, though, they share my face
And show a world both strange and true
Where clocks might melt and flowers race
But love still fits in every view

Together they both guide my heart
One by the truth, one by surprise
Between the lines of what’s been said
I see the world with twin-born eyes
I have been working on this write over 2 years and it still is not perfect to me but posting anyway to let it go and then perhaps it will spark later and be finished correctly.

I wanted to work with the concept of someone whos left eye sees only truth and their right eye sees only lies.
I was sitting on a bench,
in a quiet place , a cemetery,
but also a park
where people come to walk,
to jog, to breathe.

Then I saw it,
a pigeon flying down from a tree.
It walked softly on the ground,
its feathers glowing in the morning light.
Black wings,
white chest,
purple and black neck,
white tail,
and feet covered with white feathers.

So beautiful.
I didn’t say it out loud,
but in my heart I admired it.

And then
it looked at me.
Really looked.

And to my surprise,
it flew to me.
Landed on the bench,
right next to me.
Its claws held the metal tightly.
It stared
those red eyes moving,
like it was trying to understand me
from every angle.

It came closer.
And for a second,
I felt something between us.
Our eyes met
and stayed.

Then, quietly,
it flew away.

I don’t know what it was.

Was it God,
answering my silent thoughts?
Or the universe,
reminding me that we are all connected?

It felt like love
but not the kind we see in movies.

No hands.
No words.
Just a moment between a human and a bird.
Real.
Quiet.
Sacred.

Maybe love is like that sometimes
not between lovers,
but between souls.
No need for shape or name.
Just presence.
Laura Apr 25
I never liked
Blue eyes
Until I saw yours
Those dumb blue eyes
In your stupid ole head
That make me melt
And tingle all over
You have no business
Having eyes like that
So clear and blue
On the outside
With green and brown flecks
That hug your pupil
So ****** stupid
Stupid how good you make me feel
Stupid how hard I've been falling
Stupid how much I like being with you
Stupid that I can't say
Everything I want to
Because I get lost
In those dumb blue eyes
Anoosha Zaib Apr 24
Let eyes shine with endless happiness
Let eyes laugh in lovely moments
Let eyes soften with quiet understanding


Let eyes witness nature's wonders
Let eyes be curious for hidden things
Let eyes observe the world's secrets
Let eyes wander, ever wide
Let eyes dream of flying high
Let eyes show wisdom, the path to success




Let eyes burn with anger
Let eyes cry for all that once was
Let eyes weep with the ache of the heart
Let eyes shed tears for what is lost
Let eyes carry the ache of goodbye
Let eyes flinch at haunting moments

Let eyes lower in the moments of shame
Let eyes show respect and silent strength


Let eyes tell the story of truth
Let eyes speak unspoken words
Let eyes whisper the secrets of love
Let eyes be happy, full of life


Let eyes smile without words, showing kindness
Let eyes care, revealing unspoken love
Let eyes hold contact, revealing secrets
Let eyes hold respect, honoring those they met

Let eyes show emotion ,let them feel
Let eyes live life , so soul may truly live
And you live life.
Let eyes speak
Les montagnes russes que représentent mes émotions, je
les déteste fort
Je me languis de gribouiller des textes joyeux et euphorisants, mais
les montagnes russes que représentent mes émotions m’étranglent
Je me sens bien puis mal, mal puis bien
Plus j’avance plus je me dis que l’esprit humain et la combinaison de
ses pensées est
une malédiction de cent ans ou moins
Cette multitude de sentiments ressentis chaque jour à l’infini, sont
un mélange culinaire que je me force à ingurgiter

J’essaye chaque jour de garder la tête haute et j’y parviens, mais
lorsque je m’enferme contre mon gré même dans mes pensées, je
pense aux tourments qui veulent probablement s’échapper ou bien, me posséder
c’est comme si j’avais un corps mais ces tourments, ces tourments
ces tourments, me contrôlent.
Comme si je me noyais alors que j’ai toujours su nager

Souvent, je désire m’évader de moi-même. Alors je
dors.
Souvent, je cherche du réconfort. Alors je
mange.
Souvent, je cherche à les faire fermer leur gueule. Alors je
bois.
Dormir, manger, boire, ce sont des verbes qui m’apportent du plaisir temporaire.

J’observe les sociétés et je n’ai qu’une envie, c’est de crier sur les toits
mon vœu de vivre en Paix, sans troubles, sans préoccupations
Si j’étais un lieu de vie, je serais une maison hantée —
Mon introversion me fait déjà sentir tel un fantôme,
les gens me voient sans me voir (et en réalité j’aime ce concept)

J’ai trouvé la solution à mes soucis, je connais la réponse et les,
solutions
Me plaindre ? Mal venu de ma part, et pourtant
Je trouve cela difficile, d’Exister.
Certains parlent de survie, ils n’ont pas entièrement tort
Mais je veux vivre, putain, j’ai cet appétit de Vivre
Et je vis. Je vis
Mais vous savez quoi ?
Vivre, n’est pas toujours suffisant.

Je ne veux pas que ma vie soit un brouillon, à la limite
un gribouillis.
Après tout, quand je regarde de l’art, ça ressemble à des gribouillis
Alors oui, que ma vie soit un gribouillis.
le 19 avril 2025
Maria Apr 18
Mum, my sweetheart, I’m tired.
Do you believe or not?

It’s like my legs are broken under
Or maybe they’re gone for short.

My head is being torn apart
By different odd thoughts.

And I can’t, I can't stop thinking.
Fears are around. More mots.

I ***** up my eyes firmly.
I instantly stop my ears.

And I’m silent again, silent again
As if there’re no dread and fears.

Mum, my sweetheart, I’m tired!
I don’t want being afraid to live!

I’m so tired mum! I’m really tired!
There’re too much atrocities.
It’s true, not a myth.

Just little bells,
Ding-****, ding-****,
Are chirping sweet sounds.
How nice is their song.

There’s not a bit truth
In that saccharine ‘re-fa-la’.
But there won't be nothing else.
We can’t live without lie.
Thank you very much for reading this poem! It's particularly personal, inside out, painful... 🙏
David Cunha Apr 18
Her prowling gaze strikes
Heart lungs brain electrified
Energy for miles
- David Cunha
april 18, 2025
0:30 a.m.
Vingt millions de petites fenêtres illuminées,
du haut de hauts buildings voulant convaincre le ciel de les laisser entrer

Vingt millions de petits cœurs qui pourtant battent fort, enfermés dans,
Vingt millions de petits corps
Vingt millions de grands esprits conditionnés

Et un, le mien
Contre mon visage, le reflet éclatant de l’écran de mon ordinateur
Minuit presque.
Dehors, les astres masqués par la pollution
le 16 décembre 2024
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