contemporary poets

You, Life & Mistakes | Felix Lugo - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

You, Life & Mistakes | Felix Lugo

You will grow but only you will know for how long.
Friends will come but many will go.
Family will stay but some will leave you too.
Relationships will be built but many will hurt you.
Success will show but not always before or after you fail first.
You will gain it all but you will lose it all too.
Love will come but will betray you because you won’t know any better
first time around.
Mistakes will take place and you will be wiping tears off your face.
The bathroom will be the safest place you can be yourself. As you look
at the mirror and go through many thoughts.
You will fall and feel alone in the dark.
Influential things will take its course but ultimately its up to you
to be the victim or the one who avoids it all.
Fights will come but not all punches must land on your face.
The beauty of fights you don’t always have to run but stand tall and
walk away.
There will be tests brought to your attention but you don’t always
have to pass them.
Learn from mistakes and don’t recreate them.
You start your education after graduation. Never let anyone tell you
any different.
Teachers will teach but you will only remember the educators. Listen
to them.
Secrets will be shared but you don’t always have to pass it along or
hear them.
Sometimes things are better said and also not said at all.
I know you will get confused and not everything must make sense to
you.
Not all you will go through must have an answer.
Understanding is key but you create the lock to the door you are
trying to open to life.
You will try and fail. You will try and fail.
You will try until you realize that trying is better than failing.
Life is precious don’t end it right away.
Speak to someone.
Listen to what others before your time have to say.
Stress will occur.
Solutions will come.
Conflicts will surface.
Circumstances will dominate.
Take a step back.
Breathe and rejuvenate.
Live life not like is your last day but like you just started life
today.

The Hole in My Life | Judge Santiago Burdon - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

The Hole in My Life | Judge Santiago Burdon

There’s a hole in my life

where all the happiness leaks out

Doctors tried to fix it with medication

Which produced poor results

So I made a hole in my arm

to replace what I had lost

Used all of everything that I found

Nothing could fill the void.

Next ambition, compassion gratitude and pride

also leaked out and exited my life.

A toxic depression filled the emptiness inside

What remains is a hole
I made in my arm

With an addiction I struggle to satisfy

Created from a madness
I prescribed

More at https://elchapo1225sg.wixsite.com/apoetsbastion.

Close Up Magic | Judge Santiago Burdon - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

Close Up Magic | Judge Santiago Burdon

In stumbles morning
it’s been out all night.
The dawn with bloodshot skies.
All the answers I had questions to.
Lay crumpled up in a lie.
I’ve been a ghost
haunting my own home.
Hostage with unpaid ransom demands.
Love’s an illusion
done with close up magic.
Sleight of six fingered hands.
She’s a pebble stuck in my heart’s shoe.
A summer cold that I can’t shake loose.
A wildfire rumor burning with the truth.
Heads or tails I lose.
If I could find a way to leave her.
I know my luck would change.
I’d give my shadow the day off.
Feel a cool breeze against my face.
All a delusion from love’s fever.
There’s no one to bare the blame.
I’ll fade away a distant memory
Forgotten face and name
A dieing fire’s last glowing embers.
That can no longer create a flame

More at https://elchapo1225sg.wixsite.com/apoetsbastion.

Cart Boy | Donal Mahoney - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

Cart Boy | Donal Mahoney

This megastore is a paradise of food.
It’s open all night, its parking lot lit
like a stadium in Texas on a football
Friday night but now at midnight
the lot is almost free of cars but
shopping carts are everywhere
like sheep waiting for a shepherd

who arrives at dawn, a young man
in a store jacket and store cap,
white shirt, store logo on his tie.
His badge says “Darius 3 Years.”
He begins to gather his carts
in a long train to push them,
as the caboose, back to the store.
His energy surpasses any clerk
I’ve seen work inside at any hour.

Soon more customers arrive
and more carts are rolling around
and Cart Boy, as Darius is called
by coworkers, doesn’t stop
going after them until a staffer
taps him on the arm for lunch.

One day I see the manager
in the lot watching Darius
with admiration and I ask him
why he doesn’t train him for
stocking shelves or cutting meat.
The manager offers a wan smile
and gives me another lesson in life.
“Darius,” he says, “is Special Needs.”

More at http://booksonblog12.blogspot.com/.

With Dying Hands He Strokes the Threads | Chris G. Vaillancourt - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

With Dying Hands He Strokes the Threads | Chris G. Vaillancourt

His brown eyes open,
absorbing every experience
that has been his to know.
A looking back, sorting
mangled bolts of history.
His story. His remembering.
With dying hands he strokes
the threads that have
unraveled around him.
He blinks, and he lets
a single teardrop glisten
on his lived in face.
There are miracles and
there are no miracles.
Either way, the prognosis
is what it is. He knows
everything he knows
and yet he
knows almost nothing.
Tall buildings and concrete streets.
City traffic on major roads.
People. So many people
occupying the urban sprawl.
In the midst of all this he
speculates on any number
of significant resolutions.
How cold his heart feels!
How resigned and dark
are his thought patterns!
With gratitude, perhaps,
he reminds himself that
one thing often leads
to another. There is
neither rhyme nor reason
to what is to come.
And when the droning
that inhabits his thinking
becomes too loud to hear,
he can shut his eyes.
Close them tight.
Let his eyelids be
his entire world
and
sit
like
a
rubber
hammer
banging
nails
into
his
heart.

Tethered Lightly | Quietude - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

Tethered Lightly | Quietude

Does anyone else feel like me?
I don’t think things are quite right.
The children I’ve raised and live with
Seem like strangers after they’re gone a day.
Would I even miss them?
The house I sleep in every night
The same walls for 12 years
But I’m sure I could leave tomorrow
And have no need to even look back
The man I come home to, kiss and lay with
If he left tonight
Would I blink twice?
All of these weights that should be moorings
Seem unnaturally transparent and thin
And in fact I seem to be tethered quite lightly
With nothing keeping me still and real within.

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