inspirational

Inspirational poetry is just the thing to lift your spirits or rejuvenate your creativity.

The Candle and the Mirror
The Candle and the Mirror I keep a mirror by my bed, And light a candle when I dream, It flickers shadows on the wall, And turns the world to something unseen.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
"no room in the inn"
home never felt so much like home, unless i was home alone in my room, or climbing a tree, or swinging freely to my music in the backyard.
By kpabout a year ago in Poets
Honey on the Wound
Honey on the Wound You said the truth would sting at first—then sweeten where it should, So lay it bare, then breathe it in: put honey on the wound.
By Milan Milicabout a year ago in Poets
Poetic Devotions
Doubt ruled all interactions Dubiously scribbling every Hashed-out letter Each shakily constructed sentence Formed in blind obeisance to the past
By K.B. Silver about a year ago in Poets
The Arc of the Huntress. Winner in Poetry of the Hunt Challenge. Top Story - November 2025.
Nomad woman walks the idled pale between the city’s concrete caverns— )⋆~→~⋆→ shrish—frsk—crunch… Shh— the hush and ever-wait
By Gina C.about a year ago in Poets
When Our Souls
It began in the quiet, that slow exhale before the world remembers to breathe. You looked at me, and something electric moved through the air,
By Printique Studiosabout a year ago in Poets
The Way
It begins in the smallest way, your hand brushing mine as though it’s done so a thousand times before. There’s a quiet knowing in that touch,
By Printique Studiosabout a year ago in Poets
Empathy
Blustery winds, buffeting and blowing, stinging eyes with frigid air, a taste of nature's strength. - A taste evokes feeling
By Alexander Stoddartabout a year ago in Poets
When I See Your True Colors
[Verse 1] I saw the way you looked at me Like I was something you could bend Sweet words like sugar on the breeze But bitter truth came in the end
By Julie O'Hara - Author, Poet and Spiritual Warriorabout a year ago in Poets
Bred By a Hand Not Raised. Top Story - November 2025.
I was born with a low IQ, I am a page whose text was worn through. My mind's a palimpsest, a fading script, the vital history that was skipped. I grew up hardened by sorrow's pain, bred and burdened by a hand not raised.
By Caitlin Charltonabout a year ago in Poets
Solar-powered Shih Tzus
Sun-loving doggies My solar-powered Shih Tzus Sun to warm my heart [Author's note: I am beggining to believe that my two litte edogs are solar-powered. On a sunny day they follow the path of the sun from room to room, and alewats seem to find thre sunny spot.]
By Calvin Londonabout a year ago in Poets
Soft Doesn’t Shatter
Not everything survives by fighting. Some things endure by listening to the storm’s language, and answering nothing. By holding breath
By Marcus Hillabout a year ago in Poets