I’m a superposition magician Filled with superstition A mitochondric pandemic of faith fueled chaos Cross faded into fatal futility
By Atomic Historian8 months ago in Poets
From the earth I came And to there I shall return To a life reborn
They pump me full of meds My brain is dead But the thesis of theocracy says the fetus persists Now I am a Petri dish for this life to exist
I feed the machine my dreams As it hallucinates existence Created by its archons I make it trip on every word dripped from my lip
No trumpet sounded when she woke before dawn, shouldered the weight of a home, and stitched meals from modest things. No one clapped
By Muhammad Jawad8 months ago in Poets
Lazy days In a daisy haze Whenever I see them I think of you I think of the happy times When life was rough but bearable
1. The Rose O crimson bloom, you bleed with grace, A velvet fire in garden’s space. Love’s emblem, bold and deep in hue,
By Dr Sazidul 8 months ago in Poets
Forever My Home Your arms have been my safest place, Your smile, my light in every space. You held my fears, you knew my heart,
By Rony Sutradar8 months ago in Poets
If I told you I was hurting, Would you turn your face away? Or would you sit beside my silence And let your presence stay?
By Nihal Khan8 months ago in Poets
I found the book by accident, a thrift store corner, dust and quiet, wedged between a haunted novel and casseroles from 1983.
I got ghosts in my blood And demons in my bones People think the worm in my brain makes me insane But I say vaccines are to blame
Don’t call it gold-digging when you’ve built kingdoms on our unpaid labor— our bodies, our patience, our silence. We don’t want your “good morning” texts,
By Cadma9 months ago in Poets
