Poetry and art go hand in hand; in fact, a poem is just art in the written form.
You are the Master of Illusion, Masking all the time. How? How you can resting in the night? Knowing that you are trying to fit in everywhere
By Lucripa3 months ago in Poets
Enter on the Water And going deep and deeper No sounds or voices can be heard. Feel the water surrounding you.
This year was like ice cracking under your feet— It was thin in the places that I thought were solid. The sky was bruised, and the mornings were gray as ash.
By Dylan Deckard3 months ago in Poets
I was a slut, I am a slut, the hour of the slut powers the Nucleus of such an act; The act of remembering, storing Is an act of the slut
By Melissa Ingoldsby3 months ago in Poets
Still pond, moonlight hums, a heron lifts through the mist; time folds into now.
By Printique Studios3 months ago in Poets
Love is staying with me when I’m low, Love is god, your faith, fall in love with the unknown. Love’s a gift, it’s when she cook and you do the dishes,
By joeyy Tharpe3 months ago in Poets
Two children laughed through schoolyard days, Shared secrets whispered, games, and plays. Through growing years their bond would bloom,
Books. She had found ways to live different lives under different circumstances, with different endings — disguising herself each time.
By aleallie3 months ago in Poets
You cannot be woman and weak. Those are two things that together spell your undoing. You cannot tremble when the world burns,
By Alpha Man3 months ago in Poets
naked, she unzipped Leather for a monster hide Full frontal horror. — Inspired by my brother Mike’s story.
I see black on my arm. It appears to be glitching in my eyes. I'm running for the rage and letting out all the scream.
Church’s raging in sin, Spirits consumed by desires, Hell doth hath fury.
By George Zelinski3 months ago in Poets
