In Celebration of National Poetry Month, we asked all of you to contribute to a poem. Every day in April, participants submitted lines of poetry no more than 140 characters on Facebook and Twitter based on our word of the day. See the full (somewhat lengthy) poem and list of all the virtual poets after the jump.

Beginnings take hold, taking their time and toll.
For every one, another, aimless endings in wander.
Thought I knew the road I took,
Now I want to turn around,
But am too close to death to journey back and take another.
Some people will go up to their front door, to help-out their fellow man, while others will go to the ends of the earth.
Your loss or mine?
Our lives were once intertwined one is nothing
Without the other perhaps its time to make up your mind.
Beginnings roll up on the rocky shores of our lives, fresh and Glistening with the first light of a new day.
Memories, like Birthdays fade through time,
Unless they are celebrated now and then.
They say that home is where the heart is.
And my heart belongs to you.
My home away from home.
It’s warm. It has mother, father, brother, and sister.
It’s a place more than just a cove for friends.
And then, as I find you, my dear, my love, my heart has grown twice;
A home with kin,
A home with you.
You tried to catch my hopes and dreams
But only caught my smile, it seems.
Love is the fragile feeling that youth would like to understand,
And that the elderly know all too well.
I thirst for the truth behind the lies,
The only thing that can keep me alive.
I am stuck inside a foreign body.
One I’ve grown to know
But someday it will set me free
One day I’ll be released.
It was a place I called home
But now you’re not there
I feel so alone
No smiling face greets me at the door
Now nothing no more.
Oh the freedom of my soul to dance with joy
And freely roam to float on high with spirits
Near to be so happy I made it here.
Every hour begins anew, every stream has some beginning,
So why is my life so confused, always staying, never ending?
With each new dawn brings new beginnings
Make each day better than the last
Never forget the memories created in the past.
To lose a family,
To lose a home,
To lose self,
Just work against
Fate with might and intelligence, and one day,
You’ll regain all you have lost.
Loss is a sword of salt, glazed by iron hearts and wielded by too many.
Loss can be heartbreaking
Loss can be enlightening
Loss can Destroy
Loss can Employ
Loss of our Economy
…Loss of our Morality
Can you take more LOSS?
Fool the truth is a figment of an imagination,
Fool the lie and it becomes the imagination of the beholder, fool the I!
Screaming in joyful agony,
Enter the world at everyone’s risk.
A brick wall
Spine made with knobs of steel and nerves of stone
Will unbending and shatterproof,
Eyes hard and dark with stubbornness
Her support is unyielding.
Tragic magic stifles the struggles of muggles
Who want nothing more than to claim to their own fame.
They say murdering in the evening stains the sky with blood.
A drop spreads like inkblot: a slice of pomegranate,
The exhaling lung whining into the night.
It is our nature, when stripped of all luxuries, that remains.
The sheer force that drives us to continue into
The vague darkness of life.
For all those who were fooled Open your mind and understand
Or fight back, get revenge
Like you need a guiding hand.
The cold of the rain has run dry, my tears I cannot wring out
Sown is the lay of the land, fool is he who seeks a change
Cracked and worn, God’s hands are still, gentle.
I moved away long ago,
My visits few anymore.
Somehow, when I am there,
The familiarity is everywhere.
…It is not sad that I have gone away,
It is home, and my heart will always stay.
The road will guide you safe and sound,
Among the trees is where I’m found.
A happy weary word,
So fragrant with sunny loss,
Exposing the cracks in the hidden visage,
Life abounds in summer’s sweet bliss
The Earth is a giant tree,
And we are the leaves,
Everything we do to this tree,
Effects us all.
The sun. The son. The one.
The one who rises and falls.
Dusk and dawn.
“Don’t look to close” they say.
I say, “Look up more often.”
The road to nowhere,
Somewhere I know where,
The wild things aren’t,
Can’t explain dark matter,
A road of empty words scattered.
My walk to the finish,
Just an endless journey,
My feet tire,
And I’ve only just begun,
But I know,
This road leads me there.
I walk along this dirt line,
Wondering where it will lead.
The rocks and pebbles grinding down the soles of my feet—
Grinding my very soul away.
I walk along this road wondering am I following the right road to life?
In the Night, we aren’t blinded by light.
Details are illuminated to the things necessary to ponder.
In the night, there are holes,
And it’s nice to know we aren’t perfect.
The simple things are sometimes the most beautiful.
I have found that “Political-Truth” and
The “common-lie” are almost inseparable.
It’s the ending that makes us who we are
Because that’s the ending we strive towards the most.
Locked in a cell, four by eight.
Locked in a pre-labeled option of ‘criminal’,
Locked in only the thoughts of my own mind.
My voice, my opinion, my happiness…
All lost in the greyness of the suppressed individual.
Mighty is the pen.
Pencil hesitates. Erase.
Ink is for the brave.
There is nothing more tragic
Than a mind buzzing with ideas
Foiled by the broken tip of a pencil.
A friend lost in time with no reason nor rhyme
But the story that’s left to unfold
Although there’s nothing yet to be told
Is the true loss of what could have been – what might have been.
What is now lost forever
Unless you decide to treasure the words that are left at a loss.
These chains that bind me of inescapable fate.
I am human, I am alive. I am an individual.
Suppressed by, gender, suppressed by color, suppressed by sexuality, hair color, and clothing brand.
The land of the free… no land for me.
Twisted, wedged within the cracks; Freedom won as you relax.
In a world so lonely
There is only one place I belong
In a safe haven, I call my home.
Bereft of shoes, I got off my train;
That’s what I get for falling asleep.
I spun around, lost.
It’s nice to finally be home.
Home is the map that leads me into life
And gives me just the right compass to chart my destination.
Every touch turns Gold All
Home has little
MIDA Scribbled Art Paper.
Home:where you grow as a person.
Home:where you return when you need a break from life.
Home:what you long to create.
You make me squint and it’s too hot,
I need a drink,
I want to plotz,
I hate to sweat,
It’s never nice,
Give me ice.
Sunset, a golden glow.
Tree becomes shadow,
Shining leaves fade.
The breeze gently rocks.
Birds’ sweet golden lullaby.
Bottom lake still–his body, at the very end
But his eyes–one last flicker, to me, a boiling kettle
As if to say, here we begin.
Trying to change tendencies of human desire for destruction,
Is like trying to change ones Birthday, impossible.
One generation comes, another passes, but Birthdays are forever.
Anyone can sing Happy Birthday
Happens every year
But not everyone has someone so nice to sing it to
It’s why I call you Dear.
The best time of year,
Watching the wax drip down the candles
And drop onto the cake
I like my butter cream splattered with wax.
A birthday is a day we grow old gracefully
In our own unique way nothing stops time moving
Along life’s sacred as we carry on.
Of all the animals on the planet earth,
Humans are the only ones who celebrate Birthdays.
Ever fearful of Freedom’s choice
Shout at air in a lemming’s voice.
150 blank lined pages
Bound in marbled cardboard
The only requirement for pure freedom?
A pen.
I am stuck inside a foreign body
One I’ve grown to know
But someday it will set me free
One day I’ll be released.
Pencils posed at the ready,
Students write hellacious haiku.
Pocket full of words.
Do I waste thee upon a will unto my home?
Or at my passing provided the fare,
And onto a gravestone?
The world acts like a prison,
Full of deception and slaughtering kind.
It is only this time I would free myself from these chains,
To bring the world to a brave new world of greatness and honor.
She inspires him, he inspires her, together they inspire the world!
April opens as a fool.
Spring the world comes back from winters death grip color.
Every wear life brought back to a world that so needs it.
Spring brings new life and rejuvenates the soul.
Lightly step on scale.
Three pounds this Easter weekend?
Evil scale must die.
Spring is the season of fragile beauty.
Spring shows us what God can do with a drab and dirty world.
A morning I wake up,
Looked out of my window
The sun shines to the full glow
I think what time it is
That all the colors grow
…The moments of bliss
With it, bring
A happy time of spring.
Spring has sprung, that time of year has begun,
So lets all enjoy it’s beauty.
Everything comes to life, the colors of flowers, sky, and faces.
No more of that monochromatic world, no more of those gray tears,
It’s Springtime.
Aren’t you happy?
The world seems to sigh
Relieved of the cold weather
It’s finally spring.
Trees sprouting green buds
Birds sing accolades to sun
Say hello to spring.
Mother Nature has a knack, called Spring,
That keeps her bouncing back.
Birthdays come and go
Decades pass until…
April announces seventy years young.
It is that one time that makes us bloom beautifully
And then cycles every year on that same day and time,
To one day be who we choose to be and happily stay to be.
How can poetry bring arts advocacy
String words on paper
And thereupon Artistic voice will spawn beauty.
Pick a cause, any cause,
You know that I’ll adore it.
Never need to pick and choose,
Whatever it is, I’m for it.
My keys, my money, my mind.
Some have advocates in friends,
But what of those who have none?
No fiend can live without defense,
But Right will come out in the end.
The wind blows this season as a lovely spring zephyr
She said, “I am leaving now.”
I flexed my rejection like a canopy,
The wind lifting me like a fall leaf to carry me away.
The winds of change soon arrive to change the course of your daily lives, Whether it be good or bad.
So, whenever that comes,
Be not coy with what you love and live life as happy as you can be.
At the beginning,
The mind is in a state of rawness,
With the inability to comprehend the world around.
In the end, with the greatest amount of passion,
That mind will then be flawed with knowledge.
The day is gone
The sun disappearing out of sight
Only to come with the dawn
Turning darkness into light.
The sun hangs in the sky, heavy yet holding.
As the clock ticks by it lowers itself toward the blue.
We watch as it sinks slowly until it is out of sight.
Yet the sienna haze remains to remind us of it’s presence;
Once glorious and shining.
Bathed in rays of sunshine on a one-way street in the filthy Tenderloin,
I drank in UV, my thirst fulfilled; addiction waned.
I was a fool when I was young
Took no instruction from anyone
Broke the rules and listened to no one
Oh how different my life now has become.
As I lay a weary head down to sleep
I must try to relax try not to weep
A gentle voice whispers in my ear sleep
Now my love for I am here.
Feet are up and kettle’s on,
What’ll I do now my work’s all done?
Relax this Sunday morning with poetry.
Chillin’ out to my Pandora
Customized to my taste
Relaxing never got better than this
Just another thing
The city girl cherishes.
Ilsa the chatty model
Was only a figure of speech.
The words that must be spoken,
Suppressed like a child’s voice.
That which i am writing now…will influence tomorrow.
Connect with your soul
Create a new life’s goal
Be young be free dance and roam
For when you find yourself you are not alone.
Connect four words
Life is a game
Four across force down
Colors stay the same
Red or yellow plain.
My heart is inspiring me to love
My soul is inspiring me to accept love
my mind is inspiring me to view the world
My soul is inspiring me to accept the world
My whole being has been inspired to live.
Underneath my soul
I yearn for more
You can’t quench my thirst
Is this goodbye?
Or hello in another life.
Taking souls
Photos give time a feeling
Forcing it still
As a child playing in water
Moon reflected
We were there
Now we are.
Mothering can be
Wonderful freedom to see
Children grow esprit.
A courtier demandeth liberty
To bouseth & reveleth wantonly
Only a fool barreth the way
If sir Robert wisheth to frisk & play.
Mondays are like the renewing first breath
Of mountain air on a fall day
Or the surprise of a sucker punch from your devious little brother.
Monday sure isn’t funday.
On the contrary, it’s a ton-day.
Why, you might say, is Monday a ton-day?
Because, I have to make up for the work
I didn’t do on Saturday or Sunday.
Monday the day we dread we just cant get it
Into are head we have to start the week again
Lot to do, we don’t want to
But we are closer to Friday
When its done.
Monday Monday, it’s true you never fail.
Why do you keep finding me?
Can’t i return you in the mail?
I’m sorry, but this doesn’t work.
It is just not for me.
Good bye Monday.
Sincerely- Me.
In the 21st century long lost high school
acquaintances connect online.
The dots into lines
Into shapes
Into images
Into pictures
Into inspiration
Into life.
Speech is universal power
Both good and evil use it
Speech wins people over
…But can also turn them away
Speech is life and death
Both can be swayed by words
Speech requires much care
But very rarely gets it
Still, speech is only human
And remains forever strong
Gettysburg address
Lincoln’s two minute speech was
Succinct expression.
Oft in the night, awake, I,
Un-cohesive, expressionless,
A breath in the blackness.
I often find myself
Hopelessly wondering:
How far things must go,
What is it I have to do,
Who do I have to become
…to be told
I don’t have
to change anything
because I am perfect the
way I am.
You’re inspiring me to carry on
Ever since you’ve been gone tokens and memories come along
Bringing me solace making me strong
Soul of comfort, comfort of soul…home.
Beginnings six decades apart
A new granddaughter is born.
She’s back again. In from the rain.
A soaked washcloth that I wring dry,
Lie out in the sun.
She is my muse.
I am her fool.
Run from a hectic day at school
Kick off the shoes
Breathe a sigh of relief
Just sit back and relax
You’ve only a day before it starts again.
A simple building my shanty is my home.
The end of April marks the beginning of May.
The end is the part we remember the most.
Let’s end cheating
Let’s end lying
Let’s start living
And end the dying
Let’s end hunger
Let’s end war
Let’s start loving
Forever more!
And then there was silence.

Thank you to all of our participants:

@Ben_ja_min_G
@Bexington
@CanyonRose
@Char3112
@ChelseaRising
@ChuxWordOfMouth
@closer2theart
@CourtierRobert
@greenskeptic
@hosking
@ibizoboi
@jaredgarrett
@JediShywalker
@Kim_in_Dixie
@KnowledgeAll
@LouiseBorden
@Lotus Ye
@Mikki Amaria
@natzilly
@PinholeB
@relentloyalty
@sambrrgrr
@sarah_tomlinson
@SeanMHeflin
@stef1607
@stidrill
@ta_dieringer
@writershome

Mikki Amaria
Donald Breen
Andrew C
Dorothy Dao
Amir Dada
Tasha Vestbjerg Erit
Rita Feinstein
Laura Sabo Gallagher
Delaney Gibbons
Rajesh Gurung
Candace Howze
Gina Johnson
Martha Jones
Zoha Khalid
Sara Lee
Amanda David Machonis
Cassie Mercer
Jessica Dawn Miller
Heather Nayback
Jess O’Connell
Sheryce Hilkey Quinn
Miranda Rector
Jmoney Nfl Runningback
Jim Sommerville
Jarron Suda
Rebecca Weil