Stream of Consciousness

honey and apples
Purified Crystallised Sugar and syrup. Delicate, tender The perfect mix. Over the shoulder A gentle touch Of freshness;
By Ruby Redabout a year ago in Poets
How Déjà Vu Caught Déjà Vu and Derailed My Memoir...
Been here before but hate it no less, for it hurts as it draws through blood and brokenness, plus a litany of hellstones
By The Dani Writerabout a year ago in Poets
Price of Liberty
A single shot across the stage, not from a battlefield, but a campus wall. The crowd gasped … some in grief, others in silence,
By Cadmaabout a year ago in Poets
BLIND LOYALTY
A mythic tale of blind loyalty, corrupt charisma, and the descent into unadulterated evil not as a political exposé, but as a fable, a warning, a ceremonial reckoning.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli about a year ago in Poets
Hungry Writer
Got up so early Now I’m very hungry But my mind is still running Can’t interrupt it while it’s on it writing journey So I will stay hungry
By L.I.Eabout a year ago in Poets
Reflection
I look into the chipped mirror, And what do I see? A strange woman Looking back at me. Her skin is mottled with scars, Peppered with freckles.
By Jennisea Standing Rockabout a year ago in Poets
Before I Fall. Honorable Mention in The Road Drops Here Challenge.
Shoes to pavement the two yellow lines who've never met each other fell. Begin to fall, lurch. I clutched my stomach as I felt my gravity suspend.
By Christopher Falcioneabout a year ago in Poets
Heart Racer
Da Thump, Da Thump, Da Thump. My end is getting near. Da Thump, Da Thump, Da Thump. Human steps that I can hear. Da Thump,
By Elizabeth Butlerabout a year ago in Poets
Melody
Music became a lifeline for me three years ago when I found myself alone and without direction. I have never been a genre kind of girl- I like a lot of different kinds of music, some for the lyrics, some for the melody and some for the instrumentation and how it creates an emotive feeling in me.
By Colleen Waltersabout a year ago in Poets
If you knew it was the end
If you knew it was the end, not on your terms, not by your blade— would you have lived more than mere greatness? Would it be enough
By Natasha Collazoabout a year ago in Poets
Triennial Times
The world had yet to turn. Tilting forward, dropping my entire life from its tepid skies and into the dripping wings of nearby lingering clouds.
By K.H. Obergfollabout a year ago in Poets
frozen
Flight or fright? Frozen Frozen Frozen Shaking fingers and uncontrollable nerves The eyelashes get sticky Until she can't see anymore
By Ruby Redabout a year ago in Poets