There's a rich history of poetry serving as social commentary, intended to inspire calls to action.
[̲̅S] uffering silently, trapped in my room, tethered precariously by the airwaves of Zoo [̲̅M] [̲̅I] solation and solitude can quickly destroy us, they fuel fits of madness and extreme paranoi [̲̅A]
By 𝐑𝐌𝐒11 months ago in Poets
Moments of life shedding light on the way, Serenely reflecting, life in full swoon, Memories illuminate darkest days. Longing for connection, loving, and play,
By Thomas Durbin11 months ago in Poets
Emotions and sky are both sometimes blue, Memories surface, their moments too brief. What has happened to the world that I knew?
I miss the subpar. The low quality, The... Ugly, unbalanced, out-of-focus, lopsided attempt At perfection. The programming has stolen the imperfects from me.
By Silver Daux11 months ago in Poets
Your box of Barbies sit on the shelf A keepsake of sorts, a conquest, a shrine Good sir, are you proud of yourself? ~~~~
By Mikayla Rose11 months ago in Poets
In the winter's grip, where the wild winds blow. Lies the frozen lake, cloaked in ice and snow. In this icy terrain where adventure awaits, Ice huts stand firm, like valiant, sturdy gates.
By Solomon Walker11 months ago in Poets
The Poem That Screamed at Midnight At midnight I wrote, and the poem lifted from the page, screaming silently in my room.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 11 months ago in Poets
Before you try to drive the thing, be a passenger. 🚉 Sit with your forehead on the cool glass, let other people’s sentences
By Patrick Gadoury11 months ago in Poets
The Door That Shouldn’t Open There’s a door in my house that no one remembers building, a thin wooden frame that hums late at night.
The Stairway to the Stars I climb these steps through broken rock, where shadows cling to ancient walls. The sky explodes
Introduction This started off as an Ekphrastic Terza Rima, but then saw what the crows were seeing in the painting. This is Carl's (The Artist) Facebook page, where you can see more of his excellent work.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred - EBA11 months ago in Poets
Quick, my suitors have departed— Find me the doctor— Call my mother n’ father— My entrails lay before me soft as dough, Kneading them fills me with douleur;
By Thomas Bryant11 months ago in Poets
