Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
You were a storm when I met you— hair full of lightning, eyes stitched with quiet thunder. I was a candle flickering too close to the edge,
By Printique Studiosabout a year ago in Poets
This is my life now, two kids often tagging along wherever I go. My job is to teach, show, nurture their young minds, and protect from perils.
By Seema Patelabout a year ago in Poets
Watch me from a distance I asked you for so little But you gave me so much resistance Watch me as I’ve outgrown you You weren’t there to begin with
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
“For Ernesto Ayala Jr., who dared to stand in light while the system cloaked itself in shadows.” Ernesto Ayala Jr., you will not vanish from memory.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli about a year ago in Poets
He sat inside his darkness Sheilded by the light The soft glow that consumed him Deep into the night His bones a broken place
By The Darkest Sunriseabout a year ago in Poets
It all happens when the light seems to break the water. You thought you were impenetrable. Nothing could change your shape. The briny, weightless deluge that conjured up your mystic history into life, so sweet
By Melissa Ingoldsbyabout a year ago in Poets
Not every tear is born from sorrow. Some spill over when the soul overflows, when the heart can no longer fit in the chest,
By Liora Vogel about a year ago in Poets
My dog loves the sharp sound of rattling toys, The squeak it makes, A loud squeal that is louder than its bark, Something to draw the noise back too,
By Tambourine Manabout a year ago in Poets
Tomorrow is a Toyland By the whisper of clocks and the laughter of hands, We enter the world where the not-quite-true stands.
By Nomiabout a year ago in Poets
You’ve always known. There’s a soft pulse, a spark that lights up when something aligns with your soul. That’s joy. And when you choose to live from that place,
It happened over the bouquet of moments A moment of epiphany Brushing against my ego Crippled, collapsing inward Myself draped in ambitions, illusions, and confusions
By Mingling with the Moon about a year ago in Poets
In the still, afore the rising sun, Many battles have left me undone, My world stands still, with nary a breath, My quiet heartbeat, flirting with death.
By Adora Hooperabout a year ago in Poets
