Inspirational poetry is just the thing to lift your spirits or rejuvenate your creativity.
I discovered my voice a little later in life freely spewing curse words down the hall I caught my reflection in the window that night
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden9 months ago in Poets
They Walk Right Past Me Walking in One Direction Heading to the North
By Joanna Blaze9 months ago in Poets
when my mother left in the middle of december i searched my hands for what she had given me. i didn’t find gold or a map back home. i found the way she held her breath to keep the house quiet. i found the way she softened her voice until she became a whisper. there was no final hug. no last look into her eyes to say the things that are now trapped behind my teeth. i didn't get to see her one last time. i didn't get to hold the hands that built my world. now her voice echoes in the corners of my ears a ghost i am not ready to let go of. for eighteen years i wore her silence like a heavy shawl thinking it was the only way to stay warm in the north. but today i am taking it off. i am keeping her strength but i am burning the quiet. i am keeping her fire but i am letting it scream. my mother was a miracle who didn’t know she was allowed to be seen. so i will be the light she never got to have. i am her legacy finally loud.
By Anuroop9 months ago in Poets
Spent many awakening hours deprived, fearing restless shadows rummaging through agony and darkness. Sat up last night anticipating a mindless disparity that was never indefinite until dawn.
By Valerie Lyles9 months ago in Poets
I used to hand out mercy like it cost me nothing, Turned every sharp edge soft so no one felt the sting. But every time I bowed to keep the peace unbroken,
By Julie O'Hara - Author, Poet and Spiritual Warrior9 months ago in Poets
peek into the world fed by the mother’s wide view breakfast served at once
By Sun Bee9 months ago in Poets
Throat choked, sweat-soaked lines; Fingers primed—fingers prising. Primal sound: release.
By Claire McAllen9 months ago in Poets
The Unnecessary Line Of Time The morning spreads its quiet over streets, Shadows stretch like fingers along the walls, I trace the outline of yesterday in the dust,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 9 months ago in Poets
A good day is done. The sunrise turns to drizzle, warding off bad things.
The Ache Of Time Passing I always thought there would be more time, More time to say yes, More time to begin properly, To become the version of myself I kept postponing.
The Tree Man Is there really a man who lives in a tree, Watching, maybe looking at you and me? Is it all just made up in my head,
Arguing is a skill you need to learn. Sometimes, you don’t need to rush to be the "calm adult." When it’s time to argue, just have a good argument.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharing9 months ago in Poets
