Stream of Consciousness

Limbo
A shot fired off in a dream awakening me at 4 a.m., a time once referred to as limbo on the phone with a friend years ago,
By Kay Husnick4 months ago in Poets
Sugar, Spice, and Fuck you... Twice.
Our grocery cart squeaks down the grocery aisle I decline the food Mom chose A stranger snaps that I’m rude and vile While my mother’s silence grows
By Sara Wilson4 months ago in Poets
𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕪 ℂ𝕒𝕟'𝕥 𝔹𝕦𝕪
i'm a morning person i love mornings opening my eyes and realizing that i'm still here means that i'm still being used by You
By Colleen Walters4 months ago in Poets
Happy is the Poor Man
Happy is the poor man on the corner who begs. His life is satisfied with simple purpose. When he cries, it is not for himself, but for all who struggle like him. His demeanor is one of empathy and hope.
By Jesse Lee4 months ago in Poets
“The Light‑Weight Coffee Ballad”
This is a light weight video from Sweetie Bird. She had Mom, Vicki, me, turn off the news to have fun today. Taking a break. No Folgers for me, just light weight humor, and light weight coffee with no acid to burn through the atmosphere,
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 4 months ago in Poets
Scritch Scratch. Honorable Mention in Don’t Turn Around Challenge.
Scritch scratch scritch scratch Something scratches at my window stirs me from a sound sleep Sounds like nails or more like claws
By Jasmine Aguilar4 months ago in Poets
Mona Lisa...SMILES.
She smiles a knowing smile... In Typical Mona Lisa style...but beware For within, she warps, slithers...a serpentine seducer
By Novel Allen5 months ago in Poets
𝔻𝕠 ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝔹𝕖 𝔻𝕖𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕕
Remember your self you are not half of a whole left on a half shelf. ✨ Sometimes we lose us trying to be what they want
By Colleen Walters5 months ago in Poets
𝕚 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕒𝕤𝕜
i could if i wanted to couldn't i ? i could ŚĤŐÚŤ it from the ŔŐŐŦŤŐРŚ i could ŦĹŶ the biggest βĂŃŃĔŔ i could ŴŔĨŤĔ a βŐŐĶ about it
By Colleen Walters5 months ago in Poets
I am ready to Transcend
..to feel against my skin. The bone, the lumbar puncture—they are echoes now, not sharp edges — fading, changing. Each beat of my own heart reminds me of the limits of flesh, the fragility of this vessel. And in the space between beats, I sense the vastness, the endlessness of what I am becoming.
By Laurentis Theofanus5 months ago in Poets
Diamond in the Rough
She wasn’t planned, nor conceived; derived from an everlasting love. Made out of a naive confusion; and an idea, you can’t get rid of.
By Alaine Hay5 months ago in Poets
The careful house keeper
I have kept a careful House Though all the Beams complain And entertained the multitude With artificially steady Flame The Guests remark my Poise perhaps
By Taylor Ward5 months ago in Poets