inspirational

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

Hard-Hearted Jasmine
Hard-Hearted Jasmine Jasmine wore a smile as sharp as winter glass. She welcomed every neighbour, yet none were meant to last. Behind lace curtains, behind polished doors, she swept away compassion like dust across the floors.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets
We Are Alive
Those dark times we feel The times we feel stuck Feeling like no one understands Like nothing is going right Those black thoughts in our minds We wonder why we have them Are our minds being mean Does our mind hate us
By TheAlivePoetess3 months ago in Poets
Who?
Who crushes the caterpillar’s wings? Who listens when the butterfly sings? There is no fright with a dog’s play bite But we are furious when the bee stings
By Atomic Historian3 months ago in Poets
Spirit Calls to Guide
Spirit Calls to Guide When daylight fades and silence falls upon the weary land, The spirit comes so quietly with an unseen guiding hand. whispers through the evening breeze that calms the restless soul, Reminding us that every wound can one day become whole.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets
The Woman in the Moonlight
The Woman in the Moonlight She walked beneath the silver moon where shadows kissed the ground, A woman lost in memories where forgotten dreams were found. The night became her sanctuary, the stars became her guide, For all the things she couldn’t say were locked away inside.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets
The Telltale Signs . Runner-Up in Static Challenge.
I've been thinking a lot about how static builds a charge within us when we caress or rub certain fabrics and materials, how it builds and builds silently, subtly, without warning unless you see those telltale signs: the flicks of hairs standing on end, dancing dust particles.
By Paul Stewart3 months ago in Poets
Moldavite
Moldavite They say you fell from a burning sky, A green-eyed ember wrapped in flame. The earth still carries where you landed, And nothing living stayed the same.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 3 months ago in Poets
Stop Explaining Yourself to the World
There are three profound truths about life. First, when you are weak, you have no right to reason with others. This statement is harsh, but reality is often like this. It's not that reason isn't important, but when you lack power, achievements, and standing, your reasoning is easily perceived as complaining.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharing3 months ago in Poets
The Swords Of A Thousand Men
This came from a comment on my "Song of Swords" poem by Sam which said: "Oh! I thought this would be a list of swords like Excalibur, the sword of Gryffindor, Durendal, Andúril, Dawn, Ice"
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 3 months ago in Poets
old fragments #2
i sit, worried, listening to lyrics. an attempt to soothe. little simz says, "time will heal you." how odd, i think, because i once wrote a haiku, when brand new here: time will tell, they say. or, in time you will heal. but time does not serve you. i wrote it, but often write things. the question is, do i believe it? i was sad then. am i not sad now? i am. yes, and... not sad like i was some time ago. but yes, i believe it. despite the sadness, in that time, having changed in more than name alone. the grief, as i call it now, was wild once. when i was young and more certain, my grief was the decider. which is to say, my grief called the shots. my grief didn't leave room to assess, run a cost-benefit analysis, or even think more generally. my rational mind was absent, hardly at work, unless you consider the work of wild grief a rationale equivalent to the caliber of my stable and contented mind... i don't. is the work valid? yes. but reasonable or measured? hardly. what is all this grief for, you might ask? what is it that acts as tether to this potential weight? death, i suppose. to put it simply. loss, more broadly. the loss of self. the loss of loves. the loss of our planet and entire species, en masse. the loss of compassion from people and of empathy for things that don't happen directly to loved ones or us (whether complicit in their occurrence by choice or not). you know, perhaps by using time to patch all wounds, we liken ourselves to the concept. perhaps the world is so heavy, that we prefer the indifference of omnipotent measure. perhaps our hearts are opened, but lose the heat of emotionality. perhaps our minds are quieted, but lose the clarity of connection. you see, time isn't concerned with memory, or preference, or truth. you see, time isn't concerned with convenience, or perception, or linearity. you see, time isn't concerned with people, or flora or fauna, or any conception of mother earth gaia terra. you see, time isn't concerned. but i would hate for that to be me.
By kp3 months ago in Poets
Graveyard memories
No lights Just darkness Quietness My body panics when the lights go out The darkness makes me invisible to the world
By TheAlivePoetess3 months ago in Poets
Appreciate What You Have Today
Thankful for the sun, The stars, The moon, The wind, The rain, Love, Life, And family. Enjoy the moment, Share the love with family
By Carol Ann Townend3 months ago in Poets