Stream of Consciousness
Contradictive
IQ is just a number One employers never Require No one even cares to Hear it Why is it tested or Falsely admired? Jumping for joy Is not allowed In polite society No matter how high aloft This false virtue is Held in films and Commercials for beer or Ladies-only shaving goo
By K.B. Silver about a month ago in Poets
The Great Fight. Top Story - September 2026.
For nearly two decades, I lived with a weight crushing my spirit. That beast we call suicidal ideation would gnaw on my neurons taking bites big enough to choke on leaving intrusive thought remnants in its wake. I'm not sure one can fully understand the gravity of waking every morning years on end feeling disappointed that they awoke at all until they've lived it, breathed it in with morning sunlight, become it with every aching bone and muscle of a body begging to just give up. Until then, you can only imagine. Likewise, on the other side of such unnameable sadness, you can't truly comprehend the ecstacy within me when I can finally say, "I am happy right now," because no one knows how I burnt down to the ground, my innards charred to a crisp with every phase of moon. Only I was witness to my bare hands cupping ash and pressing inward until diamond bricks emerged for me to lay my foundation with. Blood and sweat and tears poured from me like a rusty faucet, tendons ripped femurs snapped for me to be able to climb and reach this current perspective worthy of so many wows, it was not an easy battle. But it is absolutely possible to survive your own mental warfare. You must simply be a warrior with love for your own survival.
By Lolly Vieiraabout a month ago in Poets
Should I Depart Early. Top Story - September 2026.
Should I Depart Early, please do not fret For almost a certainty I’m home, tucked in bed Should you search there and find me gone It’s fair to say I rose again And walked along Off to the garden Off a beaten path Follow me Toward the endless sea Should I depart early Seek a quiet place Like a stone So merrily do we roll Unsettled in our grace I likely took time To reflect on these rhymes A simple moment Fleeting, unfamiliar In these vapid times. Should I depart early Think of it not in terror We so often find silence harrowing Instead take heed And mire in its pleasure Should I depart early I might have flown away, But don't be weary We’ll find each other Some other day
By Matthew J. Frommabout a month ago in Poets
sister sunlight
achingly rusted bones bend out of bed the weight of a full skull sits heavy in my head loaded minds roll all the dice while I slip my body of flesh onto the floor eyes closed I feel it pour sunlight streams through spotted window panes roasting my marrow like a marshmallow over open flames sister sunlight sparkles her radiant rays every morning she slides a folded paper note into my pocket promising that today is a new day while sleeping minds get cleansed in moonlight the searing sun prepares her masterpiece through molten mantles she shines only on the other side my fragile metatarsals will never make their way to her yet from miles away she moves me moves my world stops every morning to have a spot of tea with my mind sipping gently cooing praises for my waking demanding that I understand with all my heart and soul that darkness does not last forever and neither will I but I am here now with her alive
By Lolly Vieiraabout a month ago in Poets
Mantra of Powerful Dragon
growing up, having very low self-esteem, being bullied, eating alone in the cafeteria, hating myself, my life, my world, and my reality noticing one day a white dove landing close to me . . . . having cats walk up to me and rubbing against me . . . . walking backwards, thinking, . . . pretending to not see a squirrel, he pretending to not see me, . . . standing within 6 inches of my foot, . . . having a dog follow me home, later finding his owner . . . thinking I was ugly, never asking girls out on dates, . . . . noticing some following me, and smiling at me, . . .. having a dream of flying high, being like a dove of peace, looking into my heart one day, listening to thy inner voice, inner pain, the Dragon wakes up understanding that self-compassion is needed, waking up and enjoying life, . . . . feeling alive for the first time, . . . . chanting aloud this mantra: repeating again and again . . . I love you! . . . . I love you! I love . . . . you!
By SAMURAI SAM: Wild Wayneabout a month ago in Poets
