hopelessness poems

Into the Oil of Your Significance | Allison Grayhurst - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

Into the Oil of Your Significance | Allison Grayhurst

Bring me back
for I am lost
like a false thing kept on guard as truth.
I am an albatross thrown broken-winged
across the sea. I am pesticide touching lips.
The dead thing tied to my back is finding
a way in.
I found nothing holy on this shore.
I can barely keep afloat – my words are rotten,
my hymns are carried off by a storm.
The leap I took
has ended in disaster.
My dance has reached a conclusion.
My life is haunted. The rope
is pulled.
More at http://www.allisongrayhurst.com.
—–
Allison Grayhurst is a member of the League of Canadian Poets. Three times nominated for Sundress Publications “Best of the Net” 2015, she has over 1000 poems published in over 410 international journals. She has sixteen published books of poetry, seven collections and nine chapbooks. She lives in Toronto with her family. She is a vegan. She also sculpts, working with clay.

It Just Doesn't Matter | Debra Sasak Ross - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

It Just Doesn't Matter | Debra Sasak Ross

It just doesn’t matter
How many accomplishments you achieve in your lifetime.
How many Sunday services you attend.
How many good deeds you try to do.
How many poems or books you have published.
How many times you’ve said you’re sorry,
Over and over
And over again.
It just doesn’t matter,
Because forgiveness never comes cheap.
It also never comes easy.
Sometimes it never comes at all.
It just doesn’t matter.

More at https://www.facebook.com/groups/fallenangelpoetry.

Dream Killer | Jonathan Otamere Endurance - Contemporary Poetry Website Featuring Notable Poems

Dream Killer | Jonathan Otamere Endurance

Our dreams are rolled
Into a single page of blankness,
Each awaiting death in queue
Like Ibadan passengers
Throwing perseverance
Into the pocket of haphazardness.

Our hands are not dream killers,
They only hurled the choices of their heart
Into the secret ballot of ‘change’
Like an eye lingering
Upon a choicest dress.

Now, we will spin our dreams
Like 1 – 2 – 3…
Into the dark scene of the night,
Each to bargain death in dearth’s stall,
And pay in installment.

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