Ode

The Drafter's Pour
In the blueprint sky, drafting winds— construction flies. Hats are hard to catch and safety... for eyes. A vest arrives: swearing... Shields block the sun, and rays off armor bounces like knights. And hats are swords competing. Who won in the drafter's pour? Fun. Thank you for reading! Which part of the poem resonates with you? Share your thoughts. Please leave a comment. Copyright 2025 K.A. Smith
By K.A. Smithabout a year ago in Poets
Instrumental Googling, My Life
Instrumental googling— today's plan set... for what's new, fullingly. Early this morning: an egg stuffin', two multigrain wheat breads, ... toughened. Rushin' to get things through— finally loose, relieved from googling, today. A fast lunch break, a fast dinner, and grace on the go... all the while, googling! In the morning, a few defining moments— then away. Thank you for reading! Which part of the poem resonates with you? Share your thoughts. Please leave a comment. Copyright 2025 K.A. Smith
By K.A. Smithabout a year ago in Poets
Ghosts
How do you talk to the ghost of the unknown? What to do when you’re alone in room full of people It’s your personal rain cloud on a sunny day
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
With a Thunderous Applause
We will look at the children with questions in their eyes We will have to explain how some were genuinely surprised At the uproar and political sell outs who cared more for money than people
By Cadmaabout a year ago in Poets
Blood Moon Rising
Alas, the sign rises in yonder sky When Light wanes and Darkness blooms When shadow dances upon the moon on high And her crimson tiding looms
By Ian Readabout a year ago in Poets
How to Disappear
First, forget the time of day, let seconds softly slip away. Unhook the moon, unmake the sun— convince your heart the race is done.
By Annie Edwards about a year ago in Poets
Remembering the Fruit Trees
It was humble childhood, a rural India kid with limited privileges, but we had a big backyard an opulent orchard. Guava, mango, custard apple,
By Seema Patelabout a year ago in Poets
Too gentle to notice
Step 1. Wake before the birds. Forget your name for seven breaths. Let the silence between them shape your outline. Step 2. Leave your phone on the nightstand.
By Cadmaabout a year ago in Poets
Whispers of the Forgotten Wind
By Nadeem Shah I. The Wind Remembers The wind does not forget It gathers our yesterdays And scatters them gently across the pines—
By Nadeem Shah about a year ago in Poets
Pure Love
Twelve thousand rays Passed through me Words of engulfing white light Purity dripping from Your wit-sharpened knife 🕊️🤍🪞✨🕊️🤍🪞✨🕊️🤍🪞✨
By K.B. Silver about a year ago in Poets
Blink in Time. Content Warning.
This was created today after working on another video that went south for a while. I thought about my tooth pain and the wealthy and their sadistic grins as they stomped on the ants, and all I gain is tooth pain. It is commentary written from my tooth pain brain of dreams of extreme pain and extreme society pain of grief, power, greed, destruction, and fucking rainbows. We will rise. Ants build colonies to the top of the highest building in Manhattan throwing over the few elite white small, tooled patriarchy men.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli about a year ago in Poets
"Obituaries"
Obituaries 03/02/2024 Dwayne Sagamore, 33, was declared dead yesterday, after being flattened by a steamroller. Sagamore, a purported time-traveler, had vanished from the time-space continuum precisely 20 minutes prior, according to his grotesque, walleyed lab assistant. Authorities concluded that Sagamore had overlooked Leap Day, confounding his Flux Capacitor. Upon reappearing, 24 hours passed his ETA, the construction site, which Sagamore had used as a staging site for his experiment, had reopened for business.
By Chris Zabout a year ago in Poets