excerpts
Poets Media isolates the most poignant, powerful, and exquisitely composed verses and quotes in the universal poetry canon.
The Hollow Men By T.S Elliot
“That is the way the world ends/ not with a bang but with a whimper.” This is the ending of T.S Elliot’s poem, The Hollow Men. It’s funny. This poem only goes out with a whimper in the very literal sense that it is what’s written on the page. This poem goes out with a bang because of the feelings of overwhelming sadness it leaves behind, and that is what makes this line all the more depressing. It is the world that is going out with a whimper, a small sound of complaint not to be remembered or given any credence, and you realize that the world will go out like this because you will go out like this.
kathryn TippettsPublished 5 days ago in Poets
The Empty House
The house was empty. The house was empty. She had made sure of that. The rest of the family was gone for the night. She had put the animals in their kennels for the night.
Abby SiegelPublished 6 days ago in Poets
Beer Sleep
Nothing Left To Take I held myself so tight I watched myself fight I know I’m alone And I don’t owe anyone anything
Christopher FerreiraPublished 6 days ago in Poets
Courage in the Teeth of Death
Greek Muse poem by jd glasscock in moments, in slips of sand burned sharp, fear was a beast cutting bone.......heavy, weighted, breaking limbs and courage, heart losing beats, but her eyes, her eyes, signs, rhythms tapping veins, so beautiful.....warm........wondrous, .her arms, haven, thighs, home.......in her step, fear lost teeth, hunger, in her soul, there was only love
JD GlasscockPublished 8 days ago in Poetsdarkness in my universe.
The more I sleep, the more I think of you, so much so that I am going to dedicate each verse of this book to you. I'm going to create a universe of emotions so that, if you ever see it, you will be the first astronaut to reach this unknown area of the universe. I'm not trying to pretend any more than you've already seen, it's just that every time we speak my words fade so I made a plan. I will express my feelings eternally in these texts, I plan to print them and put them inside a bottle with my name, so that when you break it you will feel the sound of my heart that sound that caused your departure. Even in my silences I hear voices that tell me about you. They describe the consequences of my loneliness and a rigged figure of you by my side. I'm still locked in my space There is no way out of this universe that was created thanks to the explosion of my soul when I saw how your silhouette vanished from my room in the shadows. I still don't understand what the reason was, if our galaxy is so big, why did our system have to be so close to the hole?
Manuel EncarnacionPublished 9 days ago in Poets
My Poetry
This is a collection of my own poems that I wrote back when as a child and as an adult. The title that I think I want to use is 'Poems of Childhood and other Times'.
Mark GrahamPublished 10 days ago in Poets
Porcelin Divinity and other musings
Porcelin Divinity Poem by JD Glasscock a girl raised on gypsy dreams -- in the shadows of make believe.....where everything is a fulcrum of need....and in her youth she traipsed upon could bes and hope bottled in oval glass spreading it's possibilities in grains of sand....and years etched themselves upon bones of pervasive time and little girl skirt moments of innocent frivolity drifting into slow hip dances in the proclivity of provocative aspirants of love's doting rememberence....oh yes -- she started noticing the eyes of boys flirting with the curves expounding upon the growth of her road....
JD GlasscockPublished 12 days ago in PoetsThirty Seconds
I saw what was unfolding. I saw our car continue into the intersection, and the fast approaching date we had with the car in the through street. I saw the headlights, and I saw our early reactions, but the sound came later. Time stopped. Twenty-eight seconds left.
Christine HollermannPublished 13 days ago in Poets
Lycanthrope moon musings and more
A lycanthropic dirge of hunger and forest hunts Almost nine years ago now the spirit of my journey was changed forever......I felt love when the words echoed from her tongue but I either didn't hear the hollowness in the timbre of her sound or chose to ignore it...either way in the end..it was the same...I was just so excited...so unbelievably happy...we had just found out that the heart of the soul in her womb had it's own beat....in my imagination..it would be a thumpin blues rock staccato....a groovin litany of poetical ramblings of love and joyous futures.....so in the next week when she told me she was going to visit her family in Canada I thought nothing of it...continued doing back flips off the wall of paradise....then a week passed...time strange in a translucent slowing of pavement and dream....and when her voice spit the words that would crumble my world...it seemed unreal....a horror...a movie ready to be given thumbs down bad moved to the back shelf of dust ridden cobweb obscurity..."Talking to my parents I have decided something. They want me to continue in their footsteps to a political future and they don't think you have a path that coincides with that...I mean your brilliantly talented but they think and I would have to agree that your never going to make it and you will probably be poor for the rest of your life. ANd... I...I deserve more.....better...so well...what I am trying to say....is..well...I aborted our child.....have a good life..." My spirit did a running sprint for a hole to climb itself into.....a vacant episode of reruns and repeats doing a pirrouette in the silver screen of my eyes, .....the phone fell.....creating a tap tap of plastic striking formica....my limbs leadened and flesh grew cold......arctic breath in the shade of my heart...spent night after night, month after month wrapped in sweat soaked covers...feverish skin, my sleep haunted by a child drifting...unwanted and vibrating shuddering wails to the cosmos....always out of my reach...always just out of a father's love.....A lone wolf I walk in guise since that day......keep a veritable fortress in the haven of my hovel......watch corners for ghosts of liars....count the amount of ticks of sand crawling across my flesh...and keep an eye on people's hands...where they are in proximity to my pockets....Howling my lupine moon strung along my striding hips I lope through the woods of cement.....fangs bared and ready.....forests of untrustworthy puppets trailing humanistic visage....I will not be the victim to another siren's haunt.....I will hunt.......I will survive....I will chew the bones of my dream and take down the meat of my aspirations....I will find myself in the accolades so callously called frivolous and unattainable.....and when my teeth have closed onto the flesh of my prey.....I will scream lycanthropic dirges into the deep recesses of night's dark ballad......and I shall fall to knees shedding the salt I have held in rememberence for my child drifting among the stars of could of beens...
JD GlasscockPublished 13 days ago in Poets
Poems and lyrics from early books
Gypsy Rose(Written 25 years ago) Poem by JD Glasscock Her accent is thick in it’s subtlety A palpable substance that hangs
JD GlasscockPublished 21 days ago in Poets
CAN YOU WALK WITH HER?
Come to me and tell me that you want to walk the shoes I have been in. Come to me and tell me that you could go through the fights that didn’t agree to your welcome and won. Tell what is it you been through…cause to me it looks like everything has been handed to you. Break it down to me what you had to fight for. Tell me if you had to hang on to dear life, tell me if you’re here in this life all alone, facing with the cruel people that is suppose to be there for you_ how many of them left you? How many of them turned around and gave you their ass to kiss when you need them most? Tell me who left you here…to wonder what’s your purpose…and why do you remain?
Jasmine WilderPublished 21 days ago in Poets
6 Poems from some of my books
Light is the ever birthed truth Poem by JD Glasscock Interwoven tilt of lips into upturned horizons, the hip man flips a coin while gypsy girls do thigh thrust shakes to the moon and an infant in the forest wails for nurturing....small men in rotting suits count green bills in the aftermath of self indulged boredom......she said in the wee hours of morning wisps, to hope and dream are the only steps to laughter......the hip man winks, the gypsy girls ethos mirth within the dance, the child gurgles bubbles in the turning of wails to twinkles finding eyes and the small men sneer as they continue counting, their world closing truth on their deteriorating frames.......all around the globe, wings are unfurling, spreading against the burgeoning dawn......laughter and hope are spinning threads forever renewing..
JD GlasscockPublished 22 days ago in Poets
