Free Verse

Losing My Religion
I once lost my religion once, ages ago, back when I fled the church. Hell hot on my heels. I fled from the Reverend. I thought, ain’t no way I’m going back there ;
By caitodoesstuffabout a month ago in Poets
empty space. Top Story - September 2026.
No one ever warned me about this type of emptiness. It follows the rhythm of that constant throbbing in the most hollow spaces of your mind. It is the type of emptiness that devours dreams at night. It wanders into the subconscious shadows of your nightmares, dragging all what is evil out with it.
By tatiana vitasabout a month ago in Poets
What If My Sins
Look up. Look up. Look up. The sky is falling. And for once, it is not falling to destroy you. It is falling for you .
By Zakari Rungeabout a month ago in Poets
This Morning...
He's breathing; that means we can talk. Heart abundant, so let's get through this before the sensitivity rewrites these 'blessed' redundancies. We have the list to satiate the tenacity, especially to call on elemental connections. That's where the Wolf's howl in your ears matches the rest of me--rest of your over-saturated Daemons. The driver is a crazy rage Punk man; an understander of the Sage's brutal layman terms, shaman energy that could steer the titanic from the iceberg. The goal was always to be absurd, never seen "alive" again until some messages from The Detective started to make sense. Parts unfathomable, yet I drain ink on these invisible aches--notions of the pure, untouched Daemon way. Commendable symbol on the docket. Fits no conceivable socket for the punk skater carving these enchanted hills, basking in these desert frills. Feels nice. These frills. New thrills and half fit for the rhyming lines, or is that just for name's sake? Creates the inner Kumite that revitalizes all the cold cases. At the same time, feel the chases are at the staggered start line, structured backward to throw you off the average paces of others. Hear me fucking crisply; WE do not SAVE FACE. I won't waste the haste; forgive only the justifiable waste and what it wrought. Breathe in, breathe out. Whatever provoked the 'I don't know,' and the next Tat is already designing itself, alchemically speaking, best prepare.
By Willem Indigoabout a month ago in Poets
Recipe For Six
Take down the blue bowl, the one with the hairline crack. It makes exactly five cups of batter if you scrape it clean with an off-color spatula.
By Autumn Stewabout a month ago in Poets
A Woman's Heart
A woman’s heart is her greatest treasure. A pearl protected by Aphrodite An endless ocean of secrets. It is a harbor of her deepest desires.
By Jennifer Salinasabout a month ago in Poets
MANIFESTING MY HUSBAND
MANIFESTING MY HUSBAND Dear darling husband-to-be, Before I manifest you, I’m writing down the little things I’ll rather expect you to do. You won’t know me and I won’t know you, So we’ll get a few things right, I’m putting all my wishes down On this piece of paper tonight.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a month ago in Poets
Finally Free
Finally Free I learned to quiet every sound, to measure every word, to watch the way the silence changed before a single word was heard.
By ChezaLunaabout a month ago in Poets
Teeter at the Fulcrum
Butterscotch Torched irises This universe In my eyes In your eyes Is ablaze Don't torture me Don't torture me Melting on tongues Boron-green flames Silently grows on us In your eyes In my eyes Your embrace Oh, is it killing me How it's killing me With a bittersweet taste Two feline lights In the dark Radiant stars So faraway So far apart We are now Once again Hopscotch, asphalt, four jaded feet, four rhythmic hands. That week on repeat. And it never ends. But it did. Our chapters are jumbled now, once again: idiot games, life. Our destinies crossed once again, to diverge? Whether in a castle or a tavern, we parted, speechless, in a warm embrace. Adieu, mon ami! They rebuild Ersilia elsewhere when the bonds become unbearable. Did I trade you for freedom? Or am I delusional, and there were never us? Only me, you—two separate entities born in this vast universe to once meet, then part again and again, destined for years of solitude in this vast universe. But there's no such thing as destiny, only science and coffee dregs. And it feels lonely sometimes as autumn takes the reins. I depart. Never let me go, whisper. Unconsoled, But resolved To resume the journey, engine roar. Join me! You say no, you cannot, And I know you are right. I'm a gone man, a box man, Kitsuned, carried away, Holding hands makes them sweat. Hey! But what if I lo— Elif, —ve— Else —You
By Andrei Z.about a month ago in Poets
Damned
Only a sliver of silver, more than twenty-nine short of thirty, a bargain betrayal with no savior, no feast, first or last,
By Harper Lewis 2 months ago in Poets
THE HAUNTED ELECTRIC CHAIR
THE HAUNTED ELECTRIC CHAIR They kept the old electric chair In a prison long shut down, Where broken windows faced the yard On the edge of a forgotten town.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 2 months ago in Poets
Forward, March
Fashion your latest lies with repercussions for others. Arrange your life with people who count, line them up like foot soldiers
By Harper Lewis 2 months ago in Poets