Free Verse

Cold legs
Cold legs walking in summer Evaporates everything until winter Motivates Mankind to rise up (upper) When the sun slept in my bed
By Karun 2 years ago in Poets
An Elegy for My Old Self
Here lies my past, a chapter closed, A version of me, once composed. Thankful for the lessons taught, In every battle, fought and sought.
By Dominique Alcantara2 years ago in Poets
When We Embrace Uncertainty
The dance of days winds through paths with twists, Where what's known and unknown quietly exist, Life whisepers in the breeze,
By Dominique Alcantara2 years ago in Poets
You Abandoned Me at the First Smell of Stink
You made sure that my stink didn’t waft anywhere near you lest it stick. The stench you feared was the smell of truth and of vulnerability laid bare.
By Mika Oka2 years ago in Poets
You are one of a kind
I told her I loved her. She never said no. In the name of love, we will always win. Let your heart be next to mine. Let it be one heart, one soul.
By Joe Bou Khalil2 years ago in Poets
Love is strong
Love is everywhere. In every place. At every step of life. It always stays. It never ends. Love never stops at any point in life.
By Joe Bou Khalil2 years ago in Poets
Wordology part three
Letter A for art love it through my poems from the bottom of my heart, Letter B for a battle have yours in your life strong like a king doing from his casttle,
By el hariti adil2 years ago in Poets
Medicated Indy 500
In the fold tenfold since that drug fell out of the mold, you know the one. Raging buoyancy to hit every bend in the blood river, open forum to discuss the joined decorum deepening the chasm. Living in a head, half imaginative ass-kicker, never unarmed, half gore-demanding throwback phantasm. Handsome sum for the scars testing my lucidity, an infinity a stake with a measly 102,317 large lexicon in a humble-braggadocios estimation. Drawn to a level of certainty bequeathed at gunpoint or however you spell semantics. Fool God of antics. Frantic over everything, Spice Rack is a knife collection.
By Willem Indigo2 years ago in Poets
new world . Top Story - April 2024.
there is no escape from cement-bourne memories habits forced deep into genetics until they blend forwards with the self a cage familiar yet no less daunting
By Ruby Red2 years ago in Poets
Tiny Turtle
Tiny Turtle By Laura Brady DePace The gentle touch Of the early Spring sun Caresses the back Of the basking turtle.
By Laura DePace2 years ago in Poets
A Survivor’s Year of Talking Smacks on the Internet. Content Warning.
This year has been an emotional rollercoaster, and I am beyond grateful to all who have hopped on this death-defying ride.
By Test2 years ago in Poets
My smile gave him hope
On a bus to George I saw a man. He looked sad. Angry And traumatized I stared at him. I kept staring at him. until he noticed that
By Gloria Penelope2 years ago in Poets