Holiday

A Year of Loves Many Faces
I want that mistletoe love. That stand in the snow singing and not feel the cold type love. That can't fall asleep, waiting for morning to see you kinda love. That it's a lot of work but do it anyway, because of the joy it brings...I want that Christmas kinda love.
By Daisy Lashae5 months ago in Poets
Ode to Christmas
Drape the garland around the Douglas Fir Green, red, blue, silver and gold Bulbs you can see yourself in Snowcapped rooftops glisten with blue, white snow
By DJ Robbins5 months ago in Poets
Today's Rest
Is... nothing to take a break from what was, will. Is... nothing to take a break from trying times, go where—chill. Is... nothing to take a break, like a firefly caught in the dark still.
By K.A. Smith5 months ago in Poets
August is a ripe peach
August is a ripe peach. Big and juicy, soft and round, and promising. ~ So promising... ~ Sometimes I want to grab it
By Imola Tóth5 months ago in Poets
The First
You were the first The first I could trust with my heart Now the world is tearing us apart And I don’t know what to do
By Atomic Historian5 months ago in Poets
Queue is a Ridiculous Word
Queue is a ridiculous word Its one letter followed by four silent others Perhaps that makes sense The one in the front is ordering
By Atomic Historian5 months ago in Poets
In The SpudBros Queue
Introduction I don't do queuing out of choice; in fact, I actively avoid it. Sometimes you are forced to, but if I can get out of it, I will.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 5 months ago in Poets
The Clock That Forgot Time
In the quiet corner of my study, there sits an old clock. Its wooden frame is scarred by years of dust and sunlight, its brass pendulum sways no more. The hands are stuck at 3:17, as though the world ended in that moment and the clock refused to admit otherwise.
By Samiullah5 months ago in Poets
What’s in a Name?
Don’t worry You’re not to blame For I have gone by many a name Three last names Just my first Just my last Sometimes a man, sometimes a woman
By Atomic Historian5 months ago in Poets
POEM - The Fractured Halo
It was not forged in furnaces divine, Nor hammered on a celestial anvil's face, But gathered from the light of a late sign,
By Jacky Kapadia5 months ago in Poets
Holiday Time
I remember holidays as a kid. On Easter our baskets, filled with candy, eggs Were hid in our house. We enjoyed hunting and finding them.
By Darla M Seely5 months ago in Poets
Aquarius
Thighs quaking Knees shaking Carrying my jar of clay everyday Arms locked in desperation Imperceptible fatigue as my ribs dig into my spleen
By Atomic Historian5 months ago in Poets