Rosy hexagons cascade into vanilla honeycombs above the golden circlets tracing their conical skirts. Coral-pink orbs and small, brassy spheres that would caress my cheek with every whirl of my head if I had the right ears for wearing them.
By Wen Xiaosheng12 months ago in Poets
Grieving through the breathing crevices of my mourning soul, I propelled through piercing glances of the ones who chose to score their goal.
By Hridya Sharma12 months ago in Poets
The dust settles, a shaky ceasefire in the kitchen light, the air gritty with unspoken regrets, yesterday’s words like shrapnel
By souhila12 months ago in Poets
After the bedlam of the circus ends Forensic analysis must begin Upon fleecing the rubes, our life depends Did we, to each face, bring a happy grin?
By D. J. Reddall12 months ago in Poets
Chapter 9: The Final Trial The journey neared its destined close, Yet trials remained where shadows rose. A demon king, fierce and vast, Prepared to halt their group at last.
By COUabout a year ago in Poets
Chapter 7: The Journey Begins With staff in hand and heart unsure, Wukong joined the monk, his fate obscure. Through forests dark and rivers wide, He walked as Tang Sanzang’s guide.
Chapter 5: Buddha's Trap Across the skies, his name was sung, Of Wukong’s might and the havoc he’d brung. He laughed at Heaven’s futile plea, “I am the king of eternity!”
Chapter 3: King of Havoc Upon return to his mountain throne, Wukong declared, “This world I own! No gods or kings shall hold me low; To Heaven itself, my power will show.”
Chapter 1: Birth of the Stone Monkey Upon Flower Fruit Mountain, where clouds do cling, A magic stone bore the Monkey King. Carved by the heavens, with earth’s embrace, Born of wind and water, a fateful place.
Monday, familiar and contemptible Quick to anger and slow to understand You are as proud as you are ignoble Your flesh is common and your costume grand
By D. J. Reddallabout a year ago in Poets
Upon a hill where soft winds play, And sunlight warms the break of day, A figure sits in quiet grace, In nature’s arms, their sacred space.
Beneath the banner of the nation’s pride, A leader stands, both strong and wide-eyed. Not one of tyranny, nor fleeting fame, But a steward of hope, a trusted name.
