Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
We met on the edge of something unnamed— where the sky forgot its borders and your laugh curled like fire in my hollow chest.
By Printique Studiosabout a year ago in Poets
Some meetings are not coincidences, and some separations are only preparation for reunion. When life — often in ways that hurt —
By Liora Vogel about a year ago in Poets
Once, there was a door — not made of wood, but of fear. In front of it, a voice within me whispered: not yet, I’m not ready,
Mom, you were born without a single drop of love. Raised without hugs, without tenderness, without a mother’s warmth to hold you.
There are words I avoid saying They make my tongue go cross You won’t find me saying things like Worcestershire sauce But if a mischievous rural squirrel were to go nuclear
By Amos Gladeabout a year ago in Poets
This is for the Vocal "Tautogram" Challenge that you can read about here. I must say this is a real challenge, as it will require creators to really have to think about what they are doing.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred about a year ago in Poets
Beneath the blind and pressing loam, A universe contained, a silent tome. Not stone, but promise tightly furled, A coded map to shape the world.
By Jacky Kapadiaabout a year ago in Poets
I asked nothing— not even your name, just stood still while the wind stitched you into the quiet of my sky. We met where seconds slow,
I’ve done it quite a few times I can see the roads unfolding, I know how distance works and I know the price stubbornness comes at
By Queen fabout a year ago in Poets
The cannibals call from down the hall SACRIFICE!! To save our lives Or civilization will fall The end begins when the maws open wide
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
Don’t run from fear. It’s an old companion — a shadow that walks beside you through your darkest, quietest moments. Fear isn’t your enemy,
We learn quickly how to vanish from the family table when we break the mold. We learn quickly that vanishing is easiest, safest, less painful.
By Autumn Stewabout a year ago in Poets
