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How-tos for all things poetry; learn how to analyze a poem, construct a haiko, differentiate between a metaphor and simile and more.
Is Discomfort the Key to Your Next Level?
The process of adapting daily habits creates unanticipated situations that produce the same distress as foreign language challenges. Our comfort zone shatters when we move to a new city or start a new job or change our lifestyle habits which introduces numerous unknown obstacles to our life. Each alteration resembles an adventure. The uncomfortable experiences you face support personal advancement.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharing2 years ago in Poets
Do We Live to Replicate or to Revel
I didn't come into this world to reproduce, but to see how the flowers bloom and how the water flows. How the sun rises and when it sets. I live in this world simply to understand some truths and encounter interesting things. Life is an accident, and I seek cause and effect within it.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharing2 years ago in Poets
To Anna
In quiet corners of the day, Where light and shadow softly play, Your name drifts in, like whispered rain— A tender thought I can't contain. You are the pause the world forgets, A calm where all my noise resets. The hush between two heartbeats met, A song the soul won’t soon forget. Anna—like autumn in full bloom, With amber skies and silver moon. You carry storms and stillness too, A thousand skies inside of you. The way you speak, the way you stay, Even silence bends your way. You are a chapter never done, A verse that always just begun. If time should steal my breath one day, And all the stars are swept away, Know this: in every dusk and dawn, My love for you goes quietly on.
By Rakibul Islam2 years ago in Poets
Eternal Goodbye: A Love That Never Fades
Lena and Kieran were soulmates, bound by a love so deep it felt like the universe had crafted them from the same star. From the moment their eyes met, they knew—no one else would ever understand them the way they understood each other. Their love was a wildfire, consuming and beautiful, but fate had other plans. Kieran was sick, his body failing him day by day. The doctors said there was no cure, only time—precious, slipping sand. Lena held his trembling hands, her tears falling onto their intertwined fingers. "I can't live without you," she whispered. Kieran’s voice was weak but firm. "Then don’t." They had made a promise long ago—if one were to leave, the other would follow. Not out of despair, but because their souls refused to be parted. The world without the other was a hollow, colorless place, a half-life neither could bear. On the last night, they lay together under the stars, the same way they had when they first confessed their love. Kieran’s breathing was shallow, his grip on Lena’s hand weakening. She pressed her forehead to his, her heart breaking and mending all at once. "I’m scared," he admitted. Lena kissed him softly. "I’ll be right behind you." As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, Kieran’s chest stilled. Lena didn’t weep; she smiled. She took the small vial from her pocket, the one she had prepared weeks ago. The poison was bitter, but the thought of eternity without him was worse. She lay beside him, her fingers laced with his, and closed her eyes. The pain was brief, but the peace that followed was endless. When they were found, their bodies were curled together, faces serene. Two hearts that had loved too deeply to beat apart. In death, as in life, they were unbroken. And somewhere beyond the stars, their souls danced, finally free
By Kaushal Kumar 2 years ago in Poets
On the Flip Side of the Mirror
A surge of sense.s Silences seconds— Close your eyes And the air thickens With a cocktail of scents That trigger every last nerve ending Like an old symphony Your body almost remembers. Life, at the end of a racetrack Where first place feels like a punishment— Awareness loses To convenience That stretches itself one morning And finds every damn piece of furniture Moved. Protests? Pointless. Fingers now bend in rebellious directions. Thyroid keeps demanding pills Three times a day, Stomach files complaints Unless the menu is monk-approved. Cuss words— Once sharp like knives— Now sound like cheap echoes. Rules? They fight back With scribbled receipts, Faded travel plans, And three damn cars Nobody makes or fixes anymore. Hey— Remind the room These creaky knees still pack enough torque To knock some sense in. Let them Play smart. I’ll return their sweet suggestions With whichever finger Gets the best lift. Forward is forward— No matter the pace. Make Them Wait. Let them learn What this relentless chase For programmed praise Does to bone, breath, and being. Give them a test at the end—three hours, no cheat sheet. Laugh hard— Behind the book You now can’t read Without your bifocals. Once, I might have whispered— “Hold fire. Wait it out.” But now? The world spills Over with nonsense. The hourglass is bare. No witnesses needed. Only a season of reckoning
By Rakibul Islam2 years ago in Poets
