Inspirational poetry is just the thing to lift your spirits or rejuvenate your creativity.
Look After Your Cholesterol Look after your cholesterol, do not laugh it away, The heart is a quiet worker that never asks for praise.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 9 months ago in Poets
cherry blossom time soak in fleeting spring beauty before they are gone. Note: Cherry blossom viewing is a ritual in Japan. It's called hanami.
By Seema Patel9 months ago in Poets
I post my arts here and there, One morning I woke up. and saw ten thousand likes on a piece. It was on 'Walk of Peace' as if the monks were angels
Guess things don’t need to be perfect, right? What if it’s messy, What if you’re losing direction, What if you’re unmotivated,
By Lou_Einale9 months ago in Poets
you go to funerals carrying the scent of the end on your clothes only to walk back into the light and start to lie again. you accumulate wealth you betray you build walls of debt as if you can bribe the dirt. what a joke to hoard the gold when the ferryman does not take your credit card. the truth is they will live and you will be gone. the table will be set without your plate. the breakfast will be served while you are turning to cold stone. slowly they will talk less. slowly the memories will fade until your name is just a sound the wind forgot. you treat your skin like it is a permanent cage rather than a rented room. you fight for a patch of ground as if the earth doesn’t already have your name written beneath the grass. you trade your eyes for the reflection in the mirror. you trade your peace for the noise of the crowd. you are so busy counting the years you have left that you forget the fire is already breathing. you spent your holy fire to warm a house of straw. you broke your back to carry a crown made of salt into a rising tide. so laugh at your vanity— you are the one hoarding keys to a room you are leaving forever. the flame does not care how much you were feared or how much you were owed. it is the final settlement. not a negotiation. just the quiet of your absence. you have a god to meet within the silence.
By Anuroop9 months ago in Poets
their tongues are busy carving a version of you that makes them feel less like a wreck. they call you cold because they could not handle your heat. they call you lost because you no longer answer to their name. it is a spiritual theft— they try to steal your peace to pay for their inner poverty. but you are a sovereign temple. you are the ritual they cannot perform. their curses are just prayers hitting a ceiling they built themselves. do not explain your skin to those who hate the sun. the final settlement is not a conversation. it is the quiet of your absence. leave them to the business of their own ghosts. you have a god to meet within yourself.
there is no ceremony for the moment you realize they aren't clinging to you out of love but because you are the only thing
you only get one one life full of memories don't waste one minute
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden9 months ago in Poets
The Worms Inside My Head I write with what is left of me each word a thread of memory no wires speak these thoughts I keep
There's a saying; There's always a Rainbow after it storms. But what if it never stops storming? You do everything you can to make it stop storming.
By Jen Phillips9 months ago in Poets
Everything is a choice, I went to the market, saw shelves full of delicious desserts, tempting to the tongue, quick dopamine guaranteed
You and me We see things differently You and I Have different thoughts about when we die You say you don’t want to know Him
By Cheryl E Preston9 months ago in Poets
