Senryu
the smallest things
~ blind to earth's treasures, our wonder usurped by woe– miracles no more. ____________________________________________________
Heather HublerPublished about a month ago in PoetsWriter's Block
this idea sucks within, it's clear as summer on paper, it dies chase the feeling, find the voice if you do, readers rejoice
Matthew FrommPublished about a month ago in PoetsKeys
My keys don’t jingle jangle They’re a tale of tales A web of confusion Sewn to protect what I hold dear A tool A mechanism
Atomic HistorianPublished about a month ago in PoetsSing Sirens Sing
a strange book lies closed ecstasy of completion? or wonders yet found? ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Matthew FrommPublished about a month ago in PoetsThe Last Line
I’ve been the last line to many Just another pretty penny A daring glance A lark A shot in the dark A tree that harkens you to rub against its bark
Atomic HistorianPublished about a month ago in Poets- Content Warning
Proofs and Theories
The simmering terrors of its essence set its fangs deep, Trembling with the exasperation of toil, I tirelessly strive in the endeavours of the promises to keep
Hridya SharmaPublished about a month ago in Poets Cosmos
Three bodies floating through reality Circling around a center None dare enter For if any one has full control All falls apart
Atomic HistorianPublished about a month ago in PoetsPeers
Waking up to the uncomfortable reality I have no peers Or if I do they’re nowhere near We are all scattered across the earth
Atomic HistorianPublished about a month ago in Poets3/22/24
It is imperative To remember Suffering is not comparative A loss is a loss No matter how much or little the cost may seem to you
Atomic HistorianPublished about a month ago in PoetsThe Entertainment-2
What would life be like if someone got to know us The real us The one inside The one we always hide The child that never grew up
Atomic HistorianPublished about a month ago in PoetsMaking up Memory
I often lose myself wandering in the long-lost hues of the sky, I often wander in the dreams of what beyond eternity lies.
Hridya SharmaPublished about a month ago in PoetsDawn Jog
Running at sunrise, ambling triumphantly through, nodding at a bench.
James GreenPublished about a month ago in Poets