I write to hear the voice I hide, Between the lines where truths reside. Each word I place is soft yet loud, A quiet scream beneath a crowd.
By Ibrahim 7 months ago in Poets
I wonder the earth Haunted by memories A mental disease of unforgeting Weeping over unrealized futures Uncomfortable in every place and setting
By Atomic Historian7 months ago in Poets
The sepulchral stench of Hades lingers As the goddess remembers her way home The pale anguish of frostbitten fingers Is sunned illegible, like a baked tome
By D. J. Reddall7 months ago in Poets
Words were never just words. They were pieces of me scattered between every line. I wrote to escape, but somehow… I got closer.
I walked through days that never stayed, faces passing… leaving nothing behind. I smiled but my smile was only an echo of something that was no longer there.
The poem didn’t come to him suddenly. It waited. In unfinished thoughts, in moments he ignored, in feelings he almost understood.
He held the pen like it could break, as if words were fragile things that might disappear if pressed too hard. He had so much to say—
Introduction Yesterday, I was in Carlisle with my sister, Yvonne, and my friends, Harry, Mick, Debbie, and Brian. This is some of what we saw in a Terzanelle.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 7 months ago in Poets
In shapes of animals, flowers, and insects the paper lanterns are set up at the park. The Structure of a sculpture that gives reference to the original.
By Seashell Harpspring 7 months ago in Poets
Introduction I saw this treasure chest in the Whitby Museum and thought it was saying something to me. I am still not sure, so I thought I would write a poem to say what I see there.
Your boredom and urgent thirst were real, once The cold room and precarious platform Were as worrisome as his annoyed grunts
If I could eat this shirt, would I be a shirt !? What kind of question is that - I don't know I'm just asking !? If I could eat this shirt, WOULD I be a shirt !?
By 365poetry7 months ago in Poets
