Free Verse

In The Sea
Mountaintop views used to reflect the landscape of our sloped emotions. Until your flawed devotion broke my law of motion.
By Kale Sinclair2 years ago in Poets
WHERE ARE YOU NOW?". Content Warning.
I wrote all THE LYRICS to my song. I write in MICROSOFT WORD then transfer to SUNO. SUNO CREATES MUSIC BUT I DO NOT USE AI TO WRITE MY STORIES NOR MY SONG LYRICS NOR MY POETRY. IF NEED BE, I CAN GIVE UP SUNO AND PLAY MY ON MY PC. BUT THE IDEA OF HAVING INSTRUMENTS IN SO TEMPTING.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 2 years ago in Poets
Beauty
There is beauty in the mundane- the soft sparkle of suds within a sink of spoilt dishware, Cackle in broken pops, Highlighting internal shame.
By Rachael MacDonald2 years ago in Poets
Diary of a Homeless
For the streets have claimed me as one of its own. To get out is the goal. For these stinky and sticky clothes that cover my dirty skin is not for me. I will try everything in my power to not fall victim of it. To not become one more story is the thing I want. Poem after story, we hear and say so much about it. Have you lived it? The storm of thoughts that take over your being. For some, is just so much easier to beg and plead for money that you'll never know where it'll go. Food? Medicine? Habits? I'll never understand why and how someone can reach this level. But, no one will understand my reasons of being like this either. Hypocrite, I know. Hypocrisy is keeping these thoughts flowing and the mind going. This is what I like to call: "my own habits". My version of "Being in control". Pathetic, I know. This idea of working hard is just a blur to me. I desire to be in doors with a fan or AC full blast all over the house and have some kind of calm and peace for one day. I don't want to think about: "Where do I go next?" or should I say WE? Yes, We.
By Moon2 years ago in Poets
July 25, 2024, International Red Shoe Day
On International Red Shoe Day we step in style Each vibrant step a journey mile by mile Red shoes a symbol of strength and flair
By Dawnxisoul393art2 years ago in Poets
Commitment to the Sky
I came from the bottom of the sea honed and struggled regardless of being torn to pieces by the waves but desperately pulled myself up high
By Dawnxisoul393art2 years ago in Poets
Why is it still dawn? . Top Story - July 2024.
It's an understatement to call it the naked truth Whereas it nakens inferior parts of us that have been scorched by the naked truth. I'm entitled to the gratitude of these thoughts They help keep me entertained While pain is the most forced about Entertainment of ages that our hearts keep being glued too. Why do I try to run away from something that knows my end to finish? I'm troubled by the past that keeps on predicting my future. Having a good heart only led me astray But - why is it still Dawn? If I've got guardian angels watching over me Bottled up emotions turned to ashes Meant to be thrown away into the ocean. Trying to revive the energy of my living being I'm stuck between knowing our failures and rewriting better explanations for old mistakes. The explicit bandage exposing our wounds has us feeling dead while we're told to - Breath. If hell really exists then going to heaven would be my greatest sin I'm not fond around people that try to justify the good things one can achieve if they follow the - Word. The word is what you make of it And I've not only lost hope but the real definition seems to have lost it's meaning. But here is another word with a crucified meaning - Why Is It Still Dawn?
By Irvin 2 years ago in Poets
Love path
Love in our hearts. Love in our way. It guides us. And tells us about the right way. It tells us that love never ends.
By Joe Bou Khalil2 years ago in Poets
The Rifle That Never Shot
Troops sent to destroy the disorder Brought on by the trotting of tribes Distinguishable by the kind of insanity Each one of them could potentially commit.
By Edward Banele Thela2 years ago in Poets
A misfit design
Consider me your least favorite clothing item worn out in your wardrobe The only time you put me on is when you create a facade of lost hope Drenched with darkness from your mind for how you think of me My eyes a window to my soul The silence liberates the atmosphere for we cannot afford to wake up demons we've put to bed The clock on the wall rotates Anti-clockwise, because we live reality in the past Unforseen sequential patterns of thought occur, reshaping the perceptions we have of ourselves within We start to view ourselves from a third person perspective, for how we tell a narrative without the inclusion of our faults Persueing the masses to our favored judgement How was the end become a plot with us starring as guest characters Every memory of us like a fatal accident, certainly has led to the death of my heart Wandering the after-life of a love vendetta More souls seem lost in a villainous conscious Being led by pain, their context of grieve highlights a file line of dying sane Living the present moment only to have an alterior motive to being absent in our past-scripted dialogues So identical in bondage of our minds it feels like this pain was self-inflicted I am my own mirror victim An author of a story with words I trail down to the depths our their convention The very same words I've said to you containing empty spaces of completion
By Irvin 2 years ago in Poets
Whispers of Despair.
In the stillness of the night, where the world holds its breath and the silence stretches long and heavy, there are whispers, soft and insistent, echoes of despair that drift through the shadows, carrying with them the weight of unspoken sorrows.
By Johnpaul Okwudili 2 years ago in Poets
Gilded Chains.
In the opulence of the grand halls, where the chandeliers cast their golden glow and the silken drapes whisper of wealth, there are chains, gilded and shining, wrapped around the hearts of those who dwell in the realms of excess, their shimmer masking the weight of greed’s relentless embrace.
By Johnpaul Okwudili 2 years ago in Poets