art
Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
BitterSweet GoodBye
It's 3am We're in the company of the moon,the stars, the ocean passionately crashing onto the shore and our laughter echoing into the distance Drowning out the solitude of the dark Music playing out loud on your rundown speaker But today it's not glitching, like it's brand new We sing along As you attempt to fix my two left feet I'm kinda improving Or you're blindly cheering me on You've always had a way of building sandcastles in the sky For me The Queen of the castle And you the King The music shuffles into different genre As our conversations and moods shuffle into different frequencies Will there ever be another like you I wonder As we lock eyes I gaze upon your dark brown eyes That melt my soul Your eyes, the aura of your eyes A different hue of brown Only you carry Or maybe I'm hallucinating? I should be used to the sight of you But I never will, I won't ever You pull me in for last kiss Hard, passionate and cold Like a silent bittersweet goodbye We both know this is the last time No bad blood No good reason But none of us have the courage we had when we fell Noone dares to say goodbye Like it's a bad omen, like it's taboo The sun rises Your eyes glisten like a forbidden rare jewel I soak in the beauty of your eyes This will be the last time I look into those eyes upclose As a lover As a friend
By Ropafadzo Thokozani Zinyuke (Fadzo) about a year ago in Poets
Box, Stage Left: A Monologue in Three Acts of Deception
Author's Notes Preamble: I wanted to put this right before the action takes place. I am finally published outside of Vocal and by anyone other than myself! This poem is one of two submitted to Vocal legends' Celia and River In Underland's awesome new publication, The Underland Review. This poem and one called "In Situ After “I Need My Girl” by The National (which I will publish on Vocal at another time) are featured in the August 2025 edition, among other names many people will be familiar with.
By Paul Stewartabout a year ago in Poets
A Morning Day in the Life of the Pink Lady
A Morning Day in the Life of the Pink Lady This isn’t just a day, it’s a sonic diary wrapped in pink sheets and browser haze. Welcome to the myth of the Pink Lady. This is partly truth and fiction in The Pink Series.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli about a year ago in Poets
A Museum Display Of My Sister's Pottery
Today, I spoke with a person from the Weissman Gallery in Minneapolis, MN, on the University of Minnesota Campus, who is interested in having an exhibit of woodland pottery and she thought my sister Carrie may be the focus of the exhibit.
By Denise E Lindquistabout a year ago in Poets
