Gratitude
Rumbling Through My Thoughts
So many rules cosplaying exceptions So many broken hearts mascarading as healed So many naive acting like gurus So many fearful playing fearless Oh to be lost and found by lost souls that pretend to be found It's like being loved by someone on their last straw, they'll be your last straw Try try try again, not with my heart...I beg Try Try try again, not with my mind...I plead Try try try again, by yourself this time By myself this time Echoes of righteousness, I wish were mine Humming of abundance, I hear from afar. Don't mind me, I'm just rumbling through my thoughts Rumbling through you Hoping to stumble upon the answers
By Ropafadzo Thokozani Zinyuke (Fadzo) about a year ago in Poets
Virtual ward care and me
A Little Note From Me Dear friends, I wanted to let you know why I’ve gone a little quiet. Last week, I had a frightening health scare — a panic attack on the phone with my brother turned into something more, and I ended up in hospital overnight. They found that my heartbeat was out of rhythm, and while most tests came back fine, there was a concern that needed follow-up. I’m now on medication and home on a virtual ward, being monitored closely.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
Poetry in the Age of Instagram
When emotions meet algorithms, what becomes of the soul of poetry? Once upon a time, poetry lived in dusty journals, passed between lovers, or whispered in candlelight. It was long, complex, aching with metaphors and layered meanings. You had to read it twice to begin to feel its weight. But today, poetry often lives in squares — specifically, Instagram’s 1080x1080 grid. It wears minimalist fonts, has line breaks designed for scrolling thumbs, and sometimes, it's captioned with nothing more than a hashtag.
By Mehtab Ahmadabout a year ago in Poets
