Historias de Rhymingpoem

hellooo these are just random poems that i wrote

I saw this poster with this poem. I took a picture and then had a brilliant idea to type it up and post it on the Great WattPad. It's a beautiful poem, I say. Read it if you like, and feel free to comment if you agree. :)

They ask her what she fears most, and she says "heights." But the truth lives quieter- in the dust on her brushes, the fading fire in her hands, and the art that no longer feels like hers. Between the weight of chores, the pull of duty, and the ache of a dream slipping away, this is her confession.

What's with the darkness? Man has always viewed starry nights with a romantic tinge, and this poem brings to life the thoughts of a person who's with his love, but there's an intangible veil that prevents them from striking an endearing conversation. A case of so near yet so far, it may be said.

Here is a collection of the unknown. The descriptions of the unnoticed. The last preservation of imagination.

As Easter is soon approaching, now is a great time of year to look back on the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Be blessed as you dive into this rhyming poem that explores the events of the Passion and Resurrection of Christ.

My third journal! It explores the human experience of life along with its complexities and uncertainties . A powerful reminder that we're all multifaceted beings, and that nothing about us is set in stone.

A collection of personal poetry over a period of a year. A journal of real life events , events that changed the course of my life in a way one could never imagine. A journal that explores a host of chilling themes. My first ever journal!

A rhyming poem I wrote in my creative writing class that I thought I'd share. The poem mainly focuses on what thoughts go through my head on a daily basis.

Welcome back to round two of madness and mischief. Yes, it's another poetry collection. Straight from the mental basement where I keep all the thoughts that probably shouldn't see daylight. Volume One was playful chaos. This one... well... let's just say the world's gotten weirder, and I've been taking notes. Are these poems fun? Sometimes. Political? Increasingly. Do I mock people? Without hesitation. Are there uncomfortable topics? Hell yes. Do I cross lines? Absolutely. Disclaimer: these are my thoughts, not a manifesto. You don't have to agree. And if you want to debate me about them - I admire your optimism, but I don't fucking care. I think everyone can live however they please, believe whatever the fuck they want, and I couldn't care less if they identify as a rubber band. The line, for me, is when your beliefs turn into you being a racist, misogynist, homophobe, anti-vaxxer, or any kind of bigot who thinks some people are worth less just for believing in the 'wrong God' or simply existing. And don't try to pull a vegan and convince others to follow your beliefs, opinions, or lifestyle. Anyway. Have fun, or not, whatever. Poems. Banana. HA!

// A poem about hope //

This girl wakes up with someone trying to kill her, she runs away to find a safe place. And she does... or so she thought...

My fourth journal! 🎉 Perception, memory (nostalgia), and emotion are subjective experiences that vary from person to person and are context-dependant. This journal thrives to describe the intersectionality of the three. I wanted to capture perceptions of nostalgia.

Written while I was sick and with a 102-degree fever...

A rhyming poem I wrote for my creative writing class that I thought I'd share.

I once Believe in Wishes. I once believe that someday, it will come true. My childhood wish ended when I reach teen age. My Wishes became Hoax Promises until it turned to be Just A Dream. You, do you believe in Wishes? - WISHES An Original Poetry Written by Jim Swift ©️WISHES, 2021.

The poem puts in words the undying love of a young man for a girl he knows he'll probably not be able to get in this life. Sitting in solitude at his porch during twilight, our man reminisces the times spent in her company and how she forgave him for his foolish acts, only to starkly realise that this did not bring her any closer to him. He decided to wait and bide his time; life will go on in the same monotonous hum while he secretly and silently hopes the girl will come back to him.

My 5th journal "Is It Better to Speak or to Die" is the first time I'm letting every guarded thing out of my chest at once. For years I swallowed storms, smiled with blood in my mouth, and called it manners. I let love cut me open and then hid the wound because "too much" felt safer than the truth. These pages are where I finally stopped. Every poem in here is a shard I refused to swallow again. They're messy, loud, bleeding, sometimes ugly, always mine, and they all answer the same question I've carried since I was sixteen: when the truth could ruin everything, do you still speak, or do you die quietly? I chose to speak. This book is what that choice looks like when it's no longer polite.