Gratitude

what isn't broken. Top Story - May 2026. Content Warning.
exposure and observation waiting for a closed door to open know what isn't spoken and don't speak before then what isn't broken isn't an easy fix
By ⸘jason alan‽5 months ago in Poets
we're only gonna die. Content Warning.
on the menu identities consumed isolation by design tribalistic separation because of us and them true nature denied civilization without humanity
By ⸘jason alan‽5 months ago in Poets
I Can’t Be Sad My Life Is Too Happy
I Can’t Be Sad My Life Is Too Happy Everyone tells me how lucky I am Beautiful house and a neat little plan Photos all smiling in polished frames
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 5 months ago in Poets
The Man Beside Me
The Man Beside Me Cameras exploded like thunder The second we stepped through the door Red carpets curled beneath our feet
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 5 months ago in Poets
Spring Snowfall Under the Sun
It’s snowing flowers. The crabapples have bloomed. Now done, soon shall come fruit.
By Ophelia Keane Braeden5 months ago in Poets
Good Place
A moment of pause quiet reflection, the act of stopping. - Looking up from the hustle, and bustle smelling the roses.
By Alexander Stoddart5 months ago in Poets
The Art of Using Things Up
Don't be reluctant to use the things you love; if you don't use them, they will expire, and if you never use them at all, they might eventually break.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharing5 months ago in Poets
Monkey Laugh Monkey Sing
Monkey Laugh Monkey Sing Monkey laugh monkey sing from the wire Dance for the crowd till your spirit grows tired Clap little hands while the people all grin
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 5 months ago in Poets
qalbi yanfajiru bi-imtinan (قَلْبِي يَنْفَجِرُ بِامْتِنَان)
Sketching out a landscape of a forever shifting organ is like trying to catch the Earth for an interview It's too busy keeping life going
By Oneg In The Arctic5 months ago in Poets
The Therapist Who Knew My Dreams
The Therapist Who Knew My Dreams She asked me why I never slept at night, Why shadows lived beneath my tired eyes, I told her every dream arrived the same,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 5 months ago in Poets
Inouï
An old noir film lies in the gulf of us words first strumming you compressed into vowels the consonants blaring and muted the verbs
By Michele Nampalli5 months ago in Poets
The Tiniest Thing?
What is the tiniest thing worth? Will you know it when you see it? Will you know how much it might mean to someone else? The tiniest thing could be a kind gesture… it only takes a second, but can change everything. It could be a few notes hummed, that touches someone’s heart. I could be a lucky penny left behind that brightens someone’s day.
By Gabriel B. Shames5 months ago in Poets