inspirational
Inspirational poetry is just the thing to lift your spirits or rejuvenate your creativity.
The blues of my life through the lens of a colour blind
I aim to challenge and thrive, through all the different colours I see , I strive to succeed and conquer, is it purple or is it green? Im lost in this daunting dark world, My brightest dreams are to correct what I see
By Milo Younes5 years ago in Poets
Feeling Blue?
If sadness is blue, what’s the color for despair? How easy it must be to wrap a natural human emotion up in a pretty one syllable word. One defining both great beauty and tragedy. How I wish the words to describe my pain came rolling off my tongue like a bead of sweat in summer. How many different languages do I have to scream for help before it actually arrives? How much must one look back until someone appears? Why does loneliness feel like a death sentence? Or a scream in a sound proof chamber? My frown is as great display of emotion as my smile. Braver even. I await the one who’ll paint my insides yellow. I anticipate the singing from my caged bird once again. My efforts may seem like unworthy offerings. Like a fine Pinot Noir in a styrofoam cup. Not the prettiest sip but enough feel the whole night through. At the cusp of morning, staining my heart a dark-violet, crimson, and orange. Pushing light into the darkness as if pulling back drapes in the morning. The color of my despair is always changing. Like the sunrise, my better days haven’t officially arrived, but are surely on the way. The war in my sky between night and morning has a sure victor. Me.
By Kourtney Cunningham5 years ago in Poets
I am Women
I am complex, I am emotion, I am color, I am rage, I am truth in its purest form. To not have known instantaneous love as a mother or the loyal love of a child would be a loss. As a women I take joy in the innocence of children and the way their eyes take up residence in wonder.
By Shawna Jackson5 years ago in Poets
Red.
Red, a heart softly pulsating so close to the very core of you that you almost think it’s your own. Two that once were one but are now soon to become two. Almost separate yet forever a part of one another. Inseparable, two halves of the same heart. Love at its purest, gentlest, precious, most innocent. Mother and child co existing together and co creating the sweetest symphony. A love so strong it brings life into being. A babies cry so shriek yet so soothing. Music to ones heart.
By Sandie Neve Duggan 5 years ago in Poets
