excerpts

Poets Media isolates the most poignant, powerful, and exquisitely composed verses and quotes in the universal poetry canon.

Reflections
The sky opens up and swallows us whole A drop in the sea we can't possibly find Delve into pools of unconscious tale And I find I can and see all what is real
By Ryan Welch4 years ago in Poets
The Most Uncommon of All
When I saw this Vocal writing challenge I knew what I must write A poem about something really black and white I knew I had to write a meta-poem, a poetic metaphor
By Everyday Junglist4 years ago in Poets
Nature's Symphony: A Harmonious Chorus of Life
The sun rises, painting the sky with gold, A new day dawns, so bold and untold, With endless possibilities, waiting to be, In a world that's vast, so full of glee. The wind whispers, blowing soft and low, The petals dance, a gentle ebb and flow, The oceans sing, a soothing melody, A serenade of life, so wild and free. Nature's symphony, a masterpiece of sound, A composition of colors, so profound, From the rustle of leaves to the chirp of a bird, Each note blends, so sweet, so absurd. The night sky twinkles, with stars so bright, A canvas of dreams, in darkness of night, The moon sings, a lullaby of peace, A reminder that beauty never cease. So let us listen, to the music of life, With open hearts, free from strife, For in this world, there is so much to see, A symphony of life, a gift, just for thee.
By Selena Rowe4 years ago in Poets
the night before the day is still
there’s something strange about the comforting heaviness of the morning. the desire for darkness but embracing the day. there’s weight in everything from the weight of a blanket on your legs to the weight on your eyes that keep them closed. the way the light flares through the window tells me it’s much too early and I almost let the warm weight overtake me once more. but the threat of more day lost gets the better of me. I don’t think the move is mine to make but I wake up anyway. slowly. I don’t have that many slow mornings. much less slow, quiet mornings. there’s a creaking in the stairs and a creaking in my stiff bones from a creaking bed that isn’t mine. there’s a constant buzzing in my ears and buzzing in my head from buzzing bees and busy minds. but it’s nice, nevertheless. the fire that burned the night before has dwindled with the dawn but remembers the flame that lives on in the embers that remain. the fog that scorched wind and wit has since then turned to a cool mist that floats eerily above the grass, still blurring footprints of the night before. but even with the silence and the echoing memories of smoke and stars, the night before is there and the day is here. the night was before and the day is still. the day is still.
By nadviise4 years ago in Poets
Open Mic 🌟 🎤
#haikupoetry I smiled at the end, Although it took me a while... I Recited mine... #sexypoetry #haiku #handsomelouiithepoet #openmic
By HandsomelouiiThePoet (Lonzo ward)4 years ago in Poets
the drive home
in weather where words are seen harsh cold, clenching of tired teeth blankets laid to the edge of the seat a glass house of fogged windows erased to see.
By venice4 years ago in Poets
Absurdity, Rain, & Regret
Absurdity 1: Hands Meaning find me, I'm trying to write poetry Minds withholding creativity, Find no meaning in absurdity.
By Wray_written4 years ago in Poets
Police Brutality is Rare
Oppression is a four letter word If you don't believe me Then coon you must not be listening Sorry I don't like using such language
By Bridge Theory4 years ago in Poets
Strange Friends
Strange friends, so unique and rare, Their quirks and ways beyond compare. In laughter and in tears they stand, A bond that's strong, a friendship planned.
By Afrath Ibraheem4 years ago in Poets
The pretty girl in the red sweater
She was already there when I walked in. She sat near the door. That was probably the only time she looked at me. I ordered my drink and went to sit at an empty table — nowhere near hers, mind you.
By nadviise4 years ago in Poets
A Rare Treasure
There's a treasure unlike any other, A rare gem, shining bright, It cannot be bought with silver or gold, But it brings joy to the soul, day and night.
By Vocal Trending 4 years ago in Poets
The Subway
Tired boy leaning on the glass Tired girl with bloodshot eyes Tired woman in yellow with pained posture Tired man with a coffee in his hands
By nadviise4 years ago in Poets