Family

Stepping Stone
In the nursery of life, we track upon stones, Each stage an excursion, every way our own. Through fields of chuckling, and valleys of tears,
By zulfi bux2 years ago in Poets
Reincarnation
In domains past our human sight, Where time breaks up in unending flight, A spirit withdraws, its process turned, In cycles tremendous, its course started.
By zulfi bux2 years ago in Poets
modalities. Content Warning.
when having what you love means you don't get to feel it sacrificially disreciprocal, ultimately liminal to reconcile requires conflict as a current condition
By ⸘jason alan‽2 years ago in Poets
The Saga of 0 and 1
What you read, as the text of letters. what you witness, as scenic images, what you enjoy, as glamorous clips.. what you enjoy on digital media,
By P.A.Vinura Jayasanka2 years ago in Poets
To Return my honor
let's feel to that moan of mine who snatched away The heat of my life . Heat :- respect - respect
By Suraj poetry plus 2 years ago in Poets
On Being a Man. Top Story - March 2024.
“You’re a pretty big wheel, ain’t you?” my grandfather asks. Words tossed my way from a green armchair in the dark corner of the front room
By F Cade Swanson2 years ago in Poets
Mom's Corned Beef Fritters
Have you ever tried a corned beef fritter? I know it’s quite a very strange request. If you’ve never had a corned beef fritter.
By D-Donohoe2 years ago in Poets
I Am A Child of the Wind, Part 5
Midwest summers under a hot sun, rolling in the grass, dandelions held under chins to see who liked butter (a reflection proved it).
By Andrea Corwin 2 years ago in Poets
Toast bread and water
Toast bread and water? That's prisoner food Oh but toast bread and water tastes so mighty good right after class when the school bell would ring
By M. Lee, MFA2 years ago in Poets
It Lingers II
Standing amongst the carnage in pure gloom A sly smile hearing the family’s silent screams within the room His whispers continue to linger, almost a poison in her mind
By Forever Midnight2 years ago in Poets
Grilled Cheese and Chocolate Milk
Dust particles float through the air while the pan hisses, a chattering bird chirps its approval from the other side of the windowscreen
By Alexa2 years ago in Poets
Pickled Herring with My Dad. Runner-Up in Snacktime Sonata Challenge. Top Story - March 2024.
When I was three, my dad sat on the edge of my bed many nights after placing a plate of our favorite snack by my ballerina music box, and then delved into Treasure Island or Nancy Drew.
By Lacy Loar-Gruenler2 years ago in Poets