Family
Memories at the kitchen table
The sun sometimes reminds me of the meals my mom used to make when I got back from school It made everything look warm and bright
Worker Daddy
Her tiny palm Looks even tinier when in mine So delicate and fragile Like antique lace And porcelain tea cups Every move makes me think
Love
Me loving You does Nothing for my mental health.
Jordan Alexis MossPublished a day ago in PoetsWATERMELON the fruit $ friend of the DAMNED
One may look at what has happened to Palestine and its people and dread on their behalf having a heart filled with pity. If only pity could raise the dead. I myself have found a continued disconnect from the brutality and horror so many of us have been forced to witness. A continuing distance can be felt when I come across a post of a child or mother mourning their dead, I almost feel numb to a pain most of us would not be capable of surviving.
Shelter Rescues
Shelter Rescues Meandering, panting, with eyes aglow, Each happier each day it often shows. It’s the four-footed beasts upon my floor,
Dan R FowlerPublished a day ago in PoetsShe resists
A mom casts her goals into the ocean; we, the words sent bobbing in the direction of the sun, the eggs of stone,
Kamal O. TouhamiPublished a day ago in PoetsThe leathery lord
The leathery lord of the sun-scorched plains, With eyes that hold wisdom in desert rains. He treads on the sand, a silent machine,
mahmoud elsaadPublished 2 days ago in PoetsThe Ship with a Hunch
The sands whisper tales of the Ship of the Desert, A beast with a hump, where the sun's fire is kept. He carries the nomad, a guide and a friend,
mahmoud elsaadPublished 2 days ago in PoetsGraysonasaurous
He was her little dinosaur Green makeup on his face He practiced on his little roar As he ran about the place He stomped across the hallway
Kelli Sheckler-AmsdenPublished 2 days ago in PoetsWhat Makes a Mother?
Brown woman, white children Many will say that is not her cub, But a mother is more than biological birth; It is the nurturing nature of a Woman.
Sofia Loren PerezPublished 2 days ago in PoetsIn Fugacious Bliss
hold me captive, and Stop - i n h a l e the fresh May breeze in fugacious b l i s s * Thanks for reading! Author's Notes: While trying to think of something for Mike's awesome challenge, I came up with this senryu...It's a bit cheerier and romantic, much like my recent poem, For Ruth. Enjoy!
Paul StewartPublished 2 days ago in PoetsPuddle Jumping
Oh lovely puddle Your depths do befuddle Small ponds on the road I run to collect my umbrella and coat Grateful for my boots
Donna Fox (HKB)Published 2 days ago in Poets