First Draft

I Am Jane Doe
Dick Tracey wants her name. Pulled from the dark. Examined in the light. Give everyone a woman to point at. Men want to know
By Tina D. Lopezabout 9 hours ago in Poets
The Gravity in Eden
our bodies are graves where angels die and stars learn to breathe and the only difference between good and evil is the absence of ignorance if it’s the seed of the tree that dies and is buried then bears fruit forever is then a series of here and nows that are brief yet repeat what then can we learn of the consequences of love, light, and death it must be the gravity in eden falling in the age of reason even God has secrets
By Betha day ago in Poets
The Gravity in Eden
he stood naked and bitten numb to the gravity in eden eyes blinded by the sun you’re all i saw her whispers echoed waking in another dream concrete and blood glass and steel tearing across a perfect sky now veins of fallen angels bleeding through cities where the trees once reached the stars where they once soared with angels and eagles remembering breathing and the absence of God
By Betha day ago in Poets
The Gravity in Eden
heaven might burn your eyes; he chose to keep them open examining the anatomy of truth in the immaterial flesh of fruit yeilding forbidden sight that must be attained climbing the celestial serpentine ladder of her DNA to find the seeds of rebirth and the scarlet roots of a tree that never dies heaven is a lullaby that you sing back about being born again through your fruit’s first breath opening their eyes to the light in yours forgetting eternity he learns the finite language of men and the ancient wisdom of the earth God is just another baby waiting to be born.
By Betha day ago in Poets
The Gravity in Eden
maybe there’s no difference seeing two sides of the same tree a man discovers a woman for the first time it takes darkness to see the stars that always there then why is the sun the only exception the forbidden is often just a veil of ignorance looking for the light of naked truth climbing the ancient branches of the seeds waiting to bear fruit within them maybe there’s no separation of dark or light gravity changes according to the mass of the falling object adam killed the serpent after it frightened eve learning the nature of evil and like gravity the changing nature of truth
By Betha day ago in Poets
The Gravity in Eden
Just remember to breathe and maybe that’s all there is to believe Even stars fall to the earth and light fades to become this flesh we wear An ancient apocalypse written in new dialects of post-modern angst from skylines and seashores to mud huts and tin roofs The God we search for lives in these temples of blood and bone not the shrines of sticks and stone Egyptians would worship the rising sun and their heiroglyphics depict a serpent wrapped around a sun and the story of an eclipse and the eternal darkness that bathed adam and eve’s garden a celestial apocalypse of a darkened sun and a blood red moon tales of the longest night and of the first day in the unwritten languages of dreams living underneath this skin
By Betha day ago in Poets
Quiet
You ever have something happen to you and you survive it, but as you continue on with your life you find it has rendered you quiet? People see you as the same friendly face; they like your mask, and they would never guess in a million years all the things hiding behind it. They ask, "Hey, why don't you sing anymore?" What they don't know is how hard you work every day to breathe, and still fight it. You ever have something happen to you and you survive it, but as you continue on with your life you find it has rendered you quiet? It happened to me. I am still breathing, but it has rendered me quiet.
By Sara Wynn2 days ago in Poets
10/2/26
I’ve forgotten more than I’ve written Poems of pain Poems of being smitten My body riddled by riddles Curing me with their cancer
By Atomic Historian3 days ago in Poets
Lights in the Night
Lights in the night, show how the emotion dims Putting out all hope it seems I am putting on a smiley face No one wants to be around a frowner
By Susan Payton3 days ago in Poets
Tomorrow and Tomorrow
Is anything more ridiculous than a calendar? At least clocks are round, mocking us with their ticks, the rectangle on the wall
By Harper Lewis 4 days ago in Poets
The In Between
I can hear it through the house A proverbial noise that I thought I would have grown used to A clock ticking away against the wall
By Gunnar Anderson7 days ago in Poets
Destinations
I'm fixated on the way people bleed out Into the streets of cities with dry air and Ugly attitudes that flutter on lashes
By Silver Daux8 days ago in Poets