Joined: Jan 2022

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I write, you read. Lets dance.

Submitted Poems 24 total


Redemption comes and goes for the broken,
A life we lived of wounds unspoken.
We’ve spilled our blood for another man’s glory.
Now we live to tell our story.

In the end what was it for?
We gave ourselves for another man’s war.
The walls we...

by Steve Dupere

added 10 months ago
PTSD and the Bottle

Sands of time have brought us down
For blood we’ve spilled upon the ground
Promises were given and lies were told
Was the bill of goods that we were sold

They pin their medals and offer us pride
But the ones who lived are the ones who...

by Steven Dupere

added 4 months ago
Our Father's Dementia

As a steady symptom of forgetfulness,
Like a fight or flight of recall,
The Father we'd known all our lives
Began to stumble and fall.

It began as a simple slip of thought,
Losing a most basic requirement.
What is my name and why am I...

by Steven Dupere

added 1 month ago
Jewish Holocaust

Mothers, Fathers, Sons, Daughters
fell bloody upon a silence shattered like nightfall
when hatred found them in their sleep.

They asked nothing but to exist
like the plague that came to strike them down
where their only crime had been a...

by Steven Dupere

added 1 month ago
The Old Homestead

(This is a story of divorce and a child forced to move from his home as a result. 50 years later the man revisits his home to recall the memories, wondering if he'd been the cause of his parent's divorce.)

There was homage to be paid to the old...

by Steven Dupere

added 2 months ago

... and 19 more »

Favorite Poets 2 total

Voted Poems 226 total

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Latest Comments: 686 total
Now you understand why I was inspired here. How utterly sad that any human has ever had to endure such cruelty. It breaks my heart.

8 days ago

Inspired by Lisa Kudrow on Who Do You Think You Are which can be seen on youtube. Check it out. It is very moving and brought me to tears. Thank you for the kindness, Lin. :-)

9 days ago

Back for a 10th read and these lines caught me this time:

Does the pain produce prose
Does the muse need to suffer twice
First from the wound
And second from the remorse

I regret the time I acted out of spite
and harmed myself much more than the victim of my vengeance

I languish too long thinking of the times I did not speak up and became what someone else wanted
Twisting into a version of myself that sickens me
And takes away a piece of my soul

How these speak to me...straight into the core of my being. Isn't it amazing how our fallibility can lower us below common sense, morality and standard to become all the things we loathe of ourselves and others.

Emotion can lead us down these self-destructive paths where we end up despising ourselves, wondering what the hell we were thinking when we opted to engage any such deeds. There really is no escaping our weaknesses but as a subsequent quest in having to deal with them in hindsight. I now believe that this is where wisdom stems from and why imperfection and tribulation are necessary for ultimate growth.

Yeah, yeah, here he is again rambling on, but I can't help but to be who I am...a verbose rambler onner.

10 days ago

Thank you very much. Such irony in that I despise writing this style and yet feel it's a must for the contests where most top contest winners utilize it. Every time I enter one of my other style poems I end up with no votes, hence. Thank you again for the kind words. :-) 

10 days ago

Humbly, and truth be told, I literally threw this together last minute and decided to enter it. It probably took an hour to write. I got inspired from a youtube video of Lisa Kudrow on the show "Who Do You Think You Are" where they trace family lineages back so people can find out who their ancestors were. Lisa's family had suffered horrible fates at the hands of the Nazis back in the day. It actually brought me to tears hearing the story. Hence, along came Jewish Holocaust. I'm not thrilled with it, but it sufficed enough to garner no votes. LOL! In any regard, I look forward to more of your artistry. 

19 days ago

Had this in my top picks. I knew this one was yours. You're always in the hunt and that makes me nervous.

19 days ago

This was the one I voted for. Great job, Ben.

19 days ago

Now you're just showing off, man. :-P

19 days ago

This is worthy of top prize. Too good.

19 days ago

Absolutely beautiful poem, Linda. Certain nostalgia really invokes emotion in me. This has all those beautiful undertones I live for. That you wrote most of this in 1976 further evokes the memories of a life I look back upon with great joy, as well the regrets of things found and lost. Your gift is abundant as shown here. 

1 month ago

We're entitled to our woes just as we are granted the faculty to carry on knowing they consume us at times. The irony being that we wonder how will we carry on as we are in the midst of doing just that- carrying on. All we can do is try not to get too lost in what might have been while taking for granted what is. We do no service to those we reside with currently if we allow our thoughts to consume us. Quality of life is where our focus lies. Try not to bypass here and now and those who care for you by losing yourself in the things you cannot change. Strength is the next step forward we take despite our weaknesses. We live and die between our ears. This is a sad reality too many good people suffer. Beautiful piece here my friend. 

1 month ago

Not being a grammar Nazi, buddy, but I was reading it a third time because I liked it that much and found this typo: But as the moon relects its glow on the sea.

You hitting the bottle again? If not, start. ;-) 

1 month ago

I don't know whether to laugh or cry, girlfriend. On the one hand it's so beautiful that I feel like welling up. The love is so deep that it makes me miss loving someone myself, but that's a good thing. Then there's the bittersweetness of the love being for someone in your past that is no longer available which makes me sad because it makes you sad. Cyber hug. :-)

Two typos to note: 1) In the depths of my heart, a lame burns bright. 2) ough the ending has been written, my heart still holds.

1 month ago

So, keep the first line and delete the rest, is that it, toots? You knew that was coming what with me being so punky predictable and such. See how I aim to please. I'm a keeper.

1 month ago

Just made it up. It came out only okay, but I'm too busy to give a rat's arse. Thank you for looming, shadow girl. ;-)

1 month ago


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Are you a poetry master?

Which poet wrote “The Tyger”?
  • A. Sylvia Plath
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