Ode

Hallucinations of Progress
I feed the machine my dreams As it hallucinates existence Created by its archons I make it trip on every word dripped from my lip
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
Get Back To Yourself
Get up, get out and get back to doing what you love. Hold your head up. Re-harness all gifts from up above. Let go of the unfit attachments that make you unhealthy.
By Joe Pattersonabout a year ago in Poets
The Quiet Side of the Moon
No one noticed Mira. Under a sycamore tree that blossomed late and shed early, she sat on the same bench in the university courtyard every morning. She sketched faces she never dared to meet, listened to delicate jazz in one earphone, and lived in a tranquil orbit.
By sazzad hossainabout a year ago in Poets
When I Found You
I didn’t know I was searching for you until I found a way you felt like home. You were the quiet in a noisy world, the soft place I had never known.
By Fahad Khanabout a year ago in Poets
The Language of Us
Love isn’t just the words we speak, It’s the silence that makes us unique. In every glance and every sigh, It’s the moments when we don’t ask why.
By Fahad Khanabout a year ago in Poets
In the Quiet Between
There’s a quiet between the noise, where the heart learns to hear its voice. Between the fight and final peace, where we let our worries cease.
By Fahad Khanabout a year ago in Poets
The Day I Stopped Waiting for You
I waited for calls that never came, For love that wore your name. For words you swallowed whole, and promises you left untold.
By Fahad Khanabout a year ago in Poets
How She Healed
She loved him like the sky loves rain softly, fully, without refrain. But storms don’t stay, they pass and go, leaving her heart to overflow.
By Fahad Khanabout a year ago in Poets
She is a Moon
She is a moon— not merely reflection, but the gravity that commands tides. Not a borrowed glow, but a presence—steady, resilient, and impossible to dismiss. She has drifted through nights that begged her to vanish, weathered eclipses meant to erase her light, and still, she returned each dusk, even when her pieces felt scattered, even when the pull was too much to rise. You see, she does not glow to be praised. She glows because it is in her nature to illuminate— paths, wounds, entire souls— with the quiet strength of her presence. They murmured that she was too distant, too strange, too unpredictable. But she was never meant to be understood. She was born to move tides. There are nights her light wanes— soft, hidden, nearly gone. But even a sliver of her glow can guide someone home. And she holds enough to keep glowing. She is not a moon for myth. She is a moon for meaning; for healing, for stillness, for the moments no one honors but she lives through regardless.
By Usman Ali about a year ago in Poets
War Ship
War Ship Beneath the waves, a ship and crew, sank down. A ship lost, torn apart, The crews all gone. A final cry all lost to sea.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
This Body. Top Story - May 2025.
This body has crossed oceans of raging waters has been lost in storms at sea. Its possibilities are endless; its power is still surprising me.
By Raistlin Allenabout a year ago in Poets
Amidst the Silent Fractures
Amidst the Silent Fractures By A Dena Mulyana I wove sorrow into a shroud, soft as twilight, yet heavy with unsaid goodbyes. I walked the corridors of memory where echoes wear your voice— gentle, but sharp enough to draw blood from a heart that refused to forget. Is longing always this cruel? Like a candle burning in a storm, it flickers with hope, only to be smothered by the winds of truth. Each silence between us wrote verses on the walls of my chest. Each breath, a line carved in aching. If you find this poem one day, know this— I never stopped waiting, not like a fool, but like the sky: vast, unmoving, forever open.
By Silent Soulweaverabout a year ago in Poets