celebrities

No matter their age, some celebrities have old souls; poems written by celebrity poets and your favorite celebrities' favorite poems.

Where Does the Trash Go
Where does the trash go Down into the depths Or off to the shallows We will never know It leaves our home for the curb
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
Arif and Farzana love story
Arif and Farzana met on a fresh harvest time evening in a clamoring commercial center in Lahore. The city, with its lively tones and chaos of sounds, felt like a material of life. Arif, a youthful craftsman with an unkempt facial hair growth and an energy for painting, was meandering through the slows down looking for motivation. Farzana, a writer with a peaceful presence and an affection for books, was there to track down old compositions and uncommon volumes for her assortment.
By Arif zamanabout a year ago in Poets
The End
The end of one world Is the beginning of another Like a child Slipping from its mother Life is a journey Of yearning We used to live
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
Delilah's Defense
Samson--be gone. Beauty--you're a needy beast Disappear into the ether You never-ending tease. Get so far away from me,
By Jennifer L Osborneabout a year ago in Poets
From Solitude to Community: My Journey on Foot
"I started walking alone toward my destination, but along the way, people began connecting with me, and it became a community"
By Mohammad Usmanabout a year ago in Poets
The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived
You were supposed to be the one person I could confide in. Hell. You were the one person I could confide in. You were my everything. You were the one person I thought would never hurt me - the one person I couldn't ever picture hurting me. You used to fight to keep me safe. You used to be the one who'd pull me out in order to keep me safe. You were my everything. My everything. I used to love every single ounce of you, and now I can't even think of your name without crying. I can't look at a picture of you without feeling like someone shoved a razor-sharp dagger into my lung. So I guess what I have to say is...
By 'Lissa Stufflestreetabout a year ago in Poets
Boss vs Leader: Understanding the Difference
In the professional work context, the terms ‘boss’ and ‘leader’ can be understood as synonyms. Nevertheless, this distinction is critical to cultivating a healthy organizational culture and performance. Where a boss is autocratic in discipline and power, a leader is more persuasive, motivating, and transformative.
By Mohammad Usmanabout a year ago in Poets
Celebrating the doom of independence
Celebrating the doom of independence Liberation in its precipice gallops in the abyss of glee, Callous whispers of unserved justice writhe the soul with pain that abhors the plea
By Hridya Sharmaabout a year ago in Poets
Colonized
Bound by chains of gold and greed, A land of plenty, a nation decreed. Stolen skies and plundered earth, Birthright taken, since human birth.
By Moharif Yuliantoabout a year ago in Poets
Lore: The Shepherd of Light
Thy vessel The world Thy gateway The body I honor thee with offering Pleasurable sins detested and favored by the many upon the earth
By Donwyck Christopherabout a year ago in Poets
Good Models, Ben And Jen Going To Heaven
Bloomingdales or Macys Tempting teases driving one crazy Advertising beauty Doing its commercial duty Luring the gullible patron in
By Marc OBrienabout a year ago in Poets
Scars to your beauty
What magnitude of pain can hurt? What is the measuring capacity of the human heart to bear, to accumulate in its precipice before it finally seeks redemption, before it concludes to itself no more? How ironic and disbarring it is to moan about the loss of someone after their demise after they bury themselves on the deathbed or even more unbearing when they bury themselves in their essence. If they bury themselves in their breaths, they break their souls, they pierce their hearts and shed every ounce of their aching identity that constitutes their trace.
By Hridya Sharmaabout a year ago in Poets