Damsels in perpetual bloom, I see and they lure me with their beauty Wings beating in tandem, I hear and hum in synchrony
By Sam Wijesingheabout a year ago in Poets
Faces flare maximum tint at post-its that cover floor through ceiling like a multi-colored confetti of desecrated Care Bears reduced to sparkly individuated mini-missives.
By The Dani Writerabout a year ago in Poets
Ugh… that murderous grit, fine but rough, slipping in my underwear—itching! I focus on the rolling murmur of the waves, the laughter of kids nearby—relax.
By Lily Séjorabout a year ago in Poets
I smell the smoke before the fire ignites, taste the rain, then feel the hurricane. I hear the walls of the universe crumble
By Lizzy Roseabout a year ago in Poets
I ponder over the hues of the zealous beauty of the sky, In the yonder of nothingness, time in its mirth passes by. The heavens and the earth, the kindness and the ugliness both coincide with their fate,
By Hridya Sharmaabout a year ago in Poets
The flashing lights painted your face and intensified your glow You came close and filled my lungs with the scent of your skin enhanced with Mugler
Driving Radio on Another poem Another stupid line Because you are my sunshine The thing that keeps me from losing my mind
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
Strapped in my vest The weight crushing my chest Why does life always feel like a test Trapped in the vestments of life
“Hey, neighbour! We heard that you were having a barbecue (a little birdie in the shape of my wife). Could hear the traffic from our kitchen and the kids kept up a noise about what was happening over here.
By Kendall Defoe about a year ago in Poets
Beneath the summer sun, a diamond gleams bright, Where dreams take their shape in the soft morning light. With a crack of the bat, the crowd roars in cheer,
By Abbasabout a year ago in Poets
The deviled eggs on my legs smell Of the half-elves from hell that have sprung from their shell To quell the chaos between summer and Christmas
Grasmere, Quiet, serene, Reflecting, resting, calm, Cradling Wordsworth's tender verse, Stillness.
By Mat Barnsleyabout a year ago in Poets
