Herbicides glide on snide remarks As snakes slither in the dark Venom spit from the mouths of the unfit and witless As we witness our destruction
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
I found an old shirt in a dusty drawer, still holding the scent of a time before. Threads worn thin by hands now gone, yet memories stitched where they belong.
By Kamel Saidaniabout a year ago in Poets
At an Ekphrastic poetry group tonight I wrote this poem. _______________ A constant companion hands to keys my fingers type
By ᔕᗩᗰ ᕼᗩᖇTYabout a year ago in Poets
illusion - The Veil That Clouds Our Life ✨ - We walk through life with eyes so bright, Yet often, dear, we lose our sight.
By PRABAL TR PROabout a year ago in Poets
Simply soup adorns my walls Soup above the couch, soup in the halls Cream of chicken by the phone So I can see soup while I make calls
By C.Z.about a year ago in Poets
To be the favorite son of a god And boil with resentment and bitter bile Seems singularly perverse, passing odd The outraged quest for revenge does defile
By D. J. Reddallabout a year ago in Poets
Heavy is the grass that bends All glass breaks in the end Water washes all away The plants return in the light of day As mycelia conquer the hidden depths
Your husband, Nicolas advised a king Royal gold lending luster to his name Your’s overshadowed by pendant and ring Known only as wife in your brushstoked fame
By Sean A.about a year ago in Poets
Cold, black elixir trickling down my throat Some days it is warm as its cream fills my gut Its energy powers my life Without it
In the abyss of finding a voice that glares through the roof and blinds the pain, Through the seeping crevices of forethought syllables, my stance I pledge to gain.
By Hridya Sharmaabout a year ago in Poets
Another piece inspired by Nancy Elizabeth Prophet. Her art has truly inspired me, 4 poems thus far... I hope each of you will read about this amazing sculptress. I will leave a few links below for you. <3
S/He who walks between worlds, Tekahionwake S/He who looks out for t(he)i(r) own advantage, always Deacon of death, despair, and deception
By Wen Xiaoshengabout a year ago in Poets
