Stream of Consciousness
Omer 13 - the people’s daughter
The people’s daughter, entering the new world with soot in her eyes, strained vision to find where the rivers converge, only finding the ocean before her and its waves tugging at her feet to return home to the sea calling her back. Whispers and screams carried by cycling wind to and past the veil, carrying her visions, teasing the answers in response through dreamscapes and flora, fauna, lightning strikes. The world speaks — quiet, loud, in tongues and plain language, waiting…waiting for fluency from even one person to carry conversation.
By Chaia Leviabout a year ago in Poets
Twirls, Toast, & Tantalizing Scents
With a "Bring!" the alarm went off. Rubbing my eyes, I turned off the alarm. Pushing back the comforter, I stretched and got out of bed. With a twirl around the room, I headed to freshen up for the day. "Hm..." "Hmm..." I went through the hangers. Sand-brown is what I selected—a not-too-loose, not-too-tight, but just-right top and bottom. That’s what I wore, with my hair properly combed and away from my face. Then, I began my morning skincare. Now, I was ready to start the day. Skipping through the silent hallways, I arrived in the kitchen, beginning my morning with a hearty breakfast. The rich aroma of coffee filled the air. Glancing around, I spotted a pot of freshly brewed coffee. Mom must be awake—probably watering the plants in the back garden, I thought. I set to the task at hand. Cracking the eggs into the pan, I grabbed a fork, considering scrambling them—but stopped myself. Mom doesn’t like scrambled eggs. So, here came her plate of sunny-side-up eggs. Letting them cook, I topped them with salt, pepper, and fresh herbs. Ah! The scent was tantalizing. Quickly, I prepared a plate of scrambled eggs for myself, then moved on to toasting bread slices. Next up: the toast topping—avocados were my choice. After plating everything and cleaning up the mess, I set the meal on the table. Just in time—Mom walked in, and we sat down for breakfast. Pouring a cup of coffee, I watched as the steam rose in an alluring way, curling at the top like a delicate heart. Bon appétit!
By Staringaleabout a year ago in Poets
Grass
Some of the grassy knoll was mowed, and it was so beautiful—the natural patterns of the freshly cut grass. Then the rest of the knoll was left untamed. This was equally beautiful and mesmerizing, as the breeze blew the green blades of grass back and forth.
By Rick Henry Christopher about a year ago in Poets
Architect
A vast anchor, settled in the depths of the deepest ocean of humanity, you provide a safe place. A place where emotions float freely to the surface, their iridescence catching the sun in a rhythmic flash of color as they bob like buoys on the surface. Feelings roll in like waves and emotions drift up and down and to and fro, but you are there to keep them stable. An immovable anchor to keep the emotions from being pulled under or fractured upon the jagged rocks with every wave.
By Colleen Waltersabout a year ago in Poets
