Quiet Like Fire You thought that strength was thunder—fists, a storm against the door, A battle cry on every breath, a boot across the floor.
By Milan Milic12 months ago in Poets
The rain speaks in a tapping code on rooftops and on window glass, a language that the earth has known since ancient clouds began to pass.
By The 9x Fawdi12 months ago in Poets
Our digital footprints never fade, Like ghosts in silent servers kept, The comments and the posts we made While all the world around us slept.
The Deep Thinkers Who Breathe Through the Storm Part Two An Outstages Cafe They speak in sparks, not shallow streams, Their minds ignite forgotten dreams.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 12 months ago in Poets
Borrowed Spine I wore my fear like a second skin, all wrinkle, no design, until the day I stood up straight on someone’s borrowed spine.
A wicked tongue burns, turning flames into melted candle wax, as you tell me to hold tight to the flames with the barest of hands
By K.H. Obergfoll12 months ago in Poets
I speak in rhymes and mysteries Because that’s how I think My brain shittles riddles because it titillates my neurons It is how I do my best to get along in this world
By Atomic Historian12 months ago in Poets
Candles That Don’t Beg I used to strike a match for proof, to bargain with the night, to hold a trembling halo up and call it borrowed light.
The Sky Forgot Blue This morning, the heavens wore borrowed gray shoes, a sepia ceiling that swallowed the views. The gulls looked like erasers smudging the light,
We were the trees Sturdy on the land We gave life to one another We lived hand in hand The core of us the tree trunks Arms embracing, leaves
By Raine Fielder12 months ago in Poets
Nocturne in Bare Feet The house exhaled; I slipped the clock and wandered off the sheet, Let midnight find its lullaby in nocturne, bare of feet.
Outstages Café of Sovereign Autonomy Its own authority of Peace “The Café of Sovereign Recess” I opened the door to chill,
