The Tarpit of the Train Station On steel parallels and shallow earth the rats know life as it is: patterned, mildly irregular, and rotting.
By Johnathan Riley4 years ago in Poets
If you were to ask me for a portrait painted with the finest of oils, I would render you with a metaphor instead and I would call you the ocean -
By Loryne Andawey4 years ago in Poets
My father was a poor Brooklyn boy Who could whistle symphonies. Having had nothing, He gave me everything Which is to say,
By Wendy Musk4 years ago in Poets
Praise, praise, praise that sap-sticky life Look at your life, green thicket around you. Look at it, strewn across the floor,
By t.r.h. blue4 years ago in Poets
On my little table, between notebook and old lamp there sits a perfect pinecone. It smells a bit like my siblings on a fall day,
By Liv Savell4 years ago in Poets
Checking your breathing, your coloring, they said mild jaundice is okay I did not change then; I arrived and was invited with a prismatic dawn to stay
By A. Lenae5 years ago in Poets
Until then, my best work yet: a boat, a love, the Leonids. Quite beautiful as heartbreaks go, a near miss on a midnight lake, with wishes dropping left and right. I laughed at that,
By Marsha Singh4 years ago in Poets
We scramble for the foundations. Someplace to lay our weary heads. Exhausted by the day to day play of uninterrupted chaos,
By Stéphane Dreyfus4 years ago in Poets
At day's end, his load to bear, Pushes still, the Scarab King, Night-dark shell, his sunless wing, Watch him wend, by starlight's glare.
By Dooney PotterV+4 years ago in Poets
