Poetry!

What has been your favourite piece of poetry that you have ever written (If you are a fan of writing it)?

this is mine:
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Plasters
I am a mosh pit floor,
covered in plaster paper pieces.
I am a concrete basement,
with a flower growing through it.
I am an old grave,
with toys in the grass.
I am an abandoned shop,
Ivy grows through the cracks.

I am healing,
I am better.

here's my fav piece! most of my poetry is in croatian, so idk how much you would understand, but here's one in english, written in persephone's glory. :'D
_____________________

Windy skies, autumn gloom
And a candle, lit in my room.
Just a witness, a little light
To guide you here, in the night.
Unexpected visitor at my door
What do I deserve it for?
You knock, and I open wide
I drop my gaze, I hide my eyes.
Great goddess, standing in front me,
Fiery eyes, hair brown, untamed, free.
A messenger from the deep,
You heard me beg, heard me weep.
For you there is always place,
Come goddess, to my furnace
Let me offer you bread and beer,
There’s always a seat for you here.
I did nothing to deserve your visit,
One step wrong and I could miss it.
I am just a devotee, and I kneel down
Let me kiss your tunic, touch your gown.
You accept my act of grace,
And enter my modest place.
Stand up, you command,
I am not today as the messenger of the dead.
I am graced by your light,
You dear visitor in the night.
Queen of the world down deep,
I offer my soul - it’s yours to keep.
My fear of you is one of respect,
I’m a mortal - full of defect.
Brimo, angry, cruel and wise,
Every mortal fears you when he dies.
Praxidike, dealer of justice
To you I raise my chalice.
Let us cheer and clink our glasses,
Night is dark and cruel, but it passes.
We all come to your embrace,
Sooner or later, the deep dark place.
Queen who rules over the dead,
For whom the mortals have bled red.
Accept me in your kingdom when the time comes,
In a choir of souls my voice hums.
You brush my hair: “Your time, dear, isn’t yet,
But I’ll remember your hospitality, your respect.”
Oh beautiful bride of Hades, whom you wed,
You place my body in the bed.
And while I drift off to sleep,
You sit here - and silent watch keep.
And when my eyes have closed to dream,
You get up, and quietly leave.
Your visit has graced my lonely home,
And in the distance the stormy wind whispers:
My dear, you’re not alone.
__________________
and one about judas
__________________
Usrid oštri zubiju Satane
Kasije sa live, Brut sa desne strane
A u sredini sidi Juda
Tamo ih je stavi Dante.

U zadnji krug pakla izdajnici sidu
Ovo dvoje mi je i jasno
Al šta tamo radi Juda
Da mu je čak i nakon suza
Za kajanje kasno?

Zar ne bi triba po teologiji on biti
Najveći svetac među svima
Ako je svetac oni šta
Za čovika žrtvu prima?

Da nije bilo grešnika i grija
Isus ne bi nikome oprostija.
Juda je prokleja sam sebe
Da spasi cili svit
Šta ga tri posto ne jebe.
Biti taj
Da svi te mrze - a dužnici svi odreda
Zar Judi ta žrtva nije
Dovoljna karta do neba?
______________
Where is God found? A house?
Maybe a church?
No, the God is found
In undertaker's hearse.
God is found in blood
And deer carcasses in the woods
God is found in dry bones
And corpses overtaken by roots.
___________________________________

I lost my tooth today
It slipped from my mouth
Covered in red streams
I spat it out
And took it to my mother's grave
"Look, mom, my tooth fell out
And I am not even a child anymore"
Wind replied instead of her
And it didn't really say anything
I also had nothing more to say
I left my tooth on the headstone
And headed
Away
---

oh what a lovely thread idea. really enjoyed both of your poems! im definitely an very amateur poetry writer, but there's still some stuff of mine i kinda like so heres kinda an old one which im still coming back to and editing. the segments arent even in their final order yet.

confessions
subtitle: robot cycle

1.

the robot wakes up
when it discover
that the way it wades trough life
isn't universal

to its own reflection it says
"not everyone has always felt this way"

2.

learning the names of things
is its first heartbeat
the mechanical thump
thump - thump - thump

x.

they know
that to love is
to touch someone else's life.
to greet it
and make a small difference
the kind of act that never
fully fades away
even as seasons change

(but to feel it is different than
to think it
and all it ever knew was how to think.)


x.

something breaks
when it discovers
that their being will always be defined
by the feeling of standing outside
the world, looking in
this is one of the first names it learns.

x.

"i don't think i'll ever be real."
layer -  layer - layer,
attempt - attempt - attempt
heres one version of the story
the robot learns how to love
and finds out it is still a robot
but it tries, and that has
to count for something

x.

and so the robot learns
"oh what a joy. i am more
than these nuts and bolts,
just as people are more
than flesh and blood."

x.

i know you'd like to find out
how the robots story ends
"does the robot learn how to love?"
but that's not the story that's being told
the robot is no longer in this one
which is to say - it stopped asking
if it was capable of love.

another one is something i wrote which is more fascinating than well written. it is a combo of my own inner monologue during a party and parts of other people's conversations i would write down. note: i was drunk while writing this

hmm I have a lot of poems I really like, but here is one, I am a bit nervous about sharing all of them.

Reincarnation of a bluebell

I am a spring ephemeral
(I bloom fast and I fade faster)
Every winter means
The trees will cloak themselves in shade
Since every day implies a night
(and I was built for in-betweens)

I will feel my fragile stem envelope
All the shades of sun
And I will feel it pressing up
against the dirt
And I will thrive amongst the leaflitter
Staring upwards,
Holding stars.
And I will

Stumble back into the loam
(For every death recalls rebirth)
And soil is death and heaven is wriggling
(With a thousand, trembling legs)
And I will wear a flower crown
When I have outstayed my welcome.