Poems and Poetry

life experience poems

And the Day Ends When She Says Her Eyelids Are Heavy | A Poem by Matheus Teixeira


I was the black dot
smudging the river
as the wind hummed
at the frail foot
of a lavender bush –

my mind whirled
black and white –
fragments spread in
a ring of ripples
which blended into
the impetuous pull
of the stream

the crimson trails
snuffed out
beneath my feet
but, the spectral downdraft
rapped on my windowsill –
ominous like
a clairvoyant, whose foreboding
chains the future to
the same deserted roads
and hidden precipices,
where I was swallowed whole


I wanted to embraced it,
so I stepped into
a white cloth of mist –
lungs shrunk
to little orbs –
a bee buzzing
in my chest

the balmy breeze of the meadow
wrapped my soul in slumber
and assembled the quaint
reminiscence of
the night when waves
washed over the moss
and the golden Arch
gently strolled
across your
seaside penumbra –
delicate and pure
like a dewdrop

and after witnessing
such a spectacle
that rendered my heartbeat unsteady
my days, now, end when she says
her eyelids are heavy

Grief | A Poem by Danny Faragher

connection cut
but connection still felt
her presence is all around –
the strands of hair in an idle brush,
a smiling snapshot on the dresser top,
a note found stashed in a coat pocket

he roams from room to room
reaching out in vain, trying to
to penetrate the empty space
she left behind
the walls mock him with the
echo of his own weeping

grief has no expiration date
it does not diminish or subside, but
flows like an underground stream,
carving out new caverns of being
and flooding to the surface now and again
with a startling paroxysm of tears

but the sun rises and sets
life scrolls on
one copes,
learning to live with grief
just as one learns to tolerate
a pain in the joint or
to tune out a ringing in the ears

Visit Danny at http://www.dannyfaraghermusic.com/poetic-side/.

Birthday | A Poem by Rozann Kraus

years ago you were in labor
maybe not yet
my birth was so easy
(as in ‘the last easy part of our relationship’)
there was just delivery
no L&D

there to continue to disappoint
ever after my painless entrance
worse, even, when my mind
was born

the pain denied at confinement
grew elsewhere
a thistle seeking little water or light
just a bristle spot
to be
protecting itself
hiding its flowers
filled cursive curses

forgive? no need
you never asked
though on I’ve moved
over and under
a hindered limp

from a small thorn
at birth

Age | A Poem by Josh Heaton

An elderly gentlemen sits in front of me on the train
In fine, red braces and a tweed hat the colour of marshland after rain.
He is concerned.
He left his coat at Derby station and is going to collect it.

A normal man of average age is more self-assured than this OAP.
A normal man with a boring job and nothing to see
Not even red braces

It’s like when people get old,
Right before they’re about to die,
They realise they don’t know anything. They have nothing to be confident of.
They have lived fascinating, breath-taking, heart-stopping, totally forgettable lives.

We’ve reached Derby now and red looks back at me,
Mouth slightly open and with a long strand of loose hair poking from under his hat.
I smile.
I’m young. I’m only just beginning to know everything.

He is anxious and I am stupid and ignorant.
I hope he finds his coat.

Storm | A Poem by J.K. Durick

After it blew itself out, the mood lightened
brightened enough like the light rain it left,
we go outside and walk in the gentle rain
it left, a reminder of sorts, now we pick up
the branches and bunches of leaves it left,
tattered pieces left over, things affected but
easy to deal with, like the light rain it left.