Gratitude

Autumn has come to swallow me
110 people walk on yellow, red, and gold leaves, placed perfectly by another tree that’s released its tethers to yesterday.
By Yasmin Yonisabout a year ago in Poets
Life is bitter, fate is destined
I agreed that life should be fair and if one struggled enough then everything would sort itself out. But as time went by I came to realize that fate always has its work cut out for it. All is not so sweet in life and at times no matter what efforts are made, one has to go through the ordeal that is planned for one.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharingabout a year ago in Poets
In the direction of the stars
Shouting my name, just as our predecessors once did, a period of devastation and conflict. A prayer, a plea, a plead
By Rather Fordabout a year ago in Poets
Senseless
My eyes hear what my ears refuse to taste As my tongue reaches out to touch a hidden place My nose sees the memories that my eyes are blind to
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
Autumn Tassology
Divining with dregs of tea leaves: catch sight of a keyhole or a brain MRI - amorphous algae submerged in a shallow pool, dull as a toothache and
By Erin Latham Sheaabout a year ago in Poets
9/22/24
Hey Whatever you think about me It’s true Because that is the version that’s real to you No matter what I say Will dissuade what you think of me
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
The Chasers
Why do I run from the very people who care about me the most? I don't know... -if you're somehow reading this, know that I'm sorry. You've been calling, stretching and reaching out. All the while I've been falling away, running off, and hiding, when the very things I'm hiding start creeping out. How can I let them chase me in worry, while I'm in such a hurry, chasing after the flurry of my folly? This isn't just silly, it's stupid. What's wrong with me? I've been told to stop asking myself that question... ‐by the very people who's concern for me comes without question. The same that aren't just willing to, but ACTUALLY DO accept me... ‐filling voids I never thought possible. Sure, not every hole is filled, but they're people I can talk to without being billed. What are you doing? I ask the mirror in front of me... ‐watching my reflection wither, everyday that I make such choices. Everyday, do I question which voices to and not listen to, while avoiding the very few that are willing to help me see what is and isn't true... -because I fear what they will see, if they were to see into me. What's wrong with you? I ask the mirror in front of me. They've told me to stop asking myself that question too... -the chasers, we'll call them. One of these days I'll call them, in confession and apology. …or, maybe just a text, if that'll do. I don't mean to run away from you... ‐I say I love you, only to turn my back and sprint away to the hole I'm always hiding in. If you're reading this, somehow, know that I'm sorry. Sorry I ghosted all of you... ‐if it makes you feel any better, I've been ghosting myself too... I know that doesn't but...
By Josh Morganabout a year ago in Poets
Homegrown Warmth
Swirls of steam perform a brilliant ballet for my eyes, Carrying the aromas of sweet tomato and garlic. Perfectly grilled sourdough crunches crisply
By Dana Crandellabout a year ago in Poets
My Mom
My mom is the sun in a world often gray, The calm in the storm, when skies go astray. Her laughter is warmth, her voice soft and kind,
By Komalabout a year ago in Poets
Can Everyday Joys Heal the Soul?
It will be your world and all wind and rain to be nicely well cared for. Trust in God, organization, happiness is under one's own control, self-care, and health comes first.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharingabout a year ago in Poets
Gratitude Awakens
The ups and downs, petty rigours, and busyness of life make Gratitude difficult to celebrate. But thankfulness manifests more to be grateful for.
By Michelle Liew Tsui-Linabout a year ago in Poets
Terrible Exhilaration
gripping my brain with unsteady thoughts, the blast of the wet air hits us hard, in our chest like a pounding war drum Soft energy in a gentle stream of music clouds us like a giant ocean of light as I breathe out through the crackling darkness
By Melissa Ingoldsbyabout a year ago in Poets