First Draft

The Sunset
The SunsetThe Sunset The Sunset The sunset burned a fiery red, Like all the words we never said, It painted gold across the sky,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 2 months ago in Poets
I Can Be Your Meditation
I can be your water, your peace, your long-term relief I can be your inner deep lake where you can just rest and take I can be your blue sky without clouds, just the sun
By Antea Lumina Kala Matylda 2 months ago in Poets
When we ran out of sand
When the ice caps melted, we built platforms in Manhattan to save the maps and our pride. After all, Venice is pretty! Why can't New York be like that? Maybe dry roads are just body fat! When the winters forsook us the autumn trees died and their yellow and red stopped gracing our eyes. But palm trees are nice! We hated the ice! Perhaps trade cherry patches for coconut rice.
By A. S. Lawrence2 months ago in Poets
Am Big. You. Us.
.Many meanings, enigmatic phrases suspended in multiple interpretations, never quite settling, dominance undecided. Meaning
By Harper Lewis 2 months ago in Poets
Circling
Beauty. Keats braided it into truth, meditating on a vase, contemplating the circle. Perfect circles are hard to come by,
By Harper Lewis 2 months ago in Poets
Addiction . Top Story - August 2026.
Who are these demons, dancing in the dark, tempting the periphery? What holes in their souls allow them to seduce me with my own name?
By Harper Lewis 2 months ago in Poets
Political Forty-One
From the Brennan Center for Justice: In legislative strategy, 41 is the magic number of United States senators needed to sustain a filibuster.
By Kendall Defoe 2 months ago in Poets
Don't Speak
This was inspired by something my daughter said that I misheard while we were walking around our neighborhood which is overrun with stray cats. First draft, so I will probably come back to it at some point.
By Tina D. Lopez2 months ago in Poets
Cacophany
broken lines of peppery milk threaten to break the glass chaos I don't know the tv doesn't know no form a peek inside
By A. S. Lawrence2 months ago in Poets
punctuated with
i do not need to know his ways nor agree on anything. as long as we can talk about those differences. as long as it does not descend to chaos
By ⸘jason alan‽2 months ago in Poets
Hubris
Close the streets, we scheduled a parade, complete with festooned floats, marching bands, dance troupes, antique cars—hell, we’ve even got veterans
By Harper Lewis 2 months ago in Poets
Who?
Who crushes the caterpillar’s wings? Who listens when the butterfly sings? There is no fright with a dog’s play bite But we are furious when the bee stings
By Atomic Historian2 months ago in Poets