An ode to Mother Nature; poems that take their inspiration from the great outdoors.
Pigments of our bodies, flesh defined by light and dark. A collection of nature’s hues mirrored in our irises—oceans, earth, leaves, storms. Open your eyes, windows to the mind, neurodiversity resides inside.
By Donna L Mays5 years ago in Poets
My Ma is the Vesica Piscis My Pa is the great architect Tahuti I am the Co lord Man
By Remove my profile from vocal5 years ago in Poets
Red Shift To this end of the spectrum Where we feel the warmth of our bodies Pressed tightly together A tribe Of shared blood
By Elliot Hough5 years ago in Poets
It started with a silent kind of emptiness, The kind that echoes of childhood fears Of midnight blues drowning amongst the tears.
By Louisa Zhang5 years ago in Poets
Sage is the colour That deep, dark, grey, green... That is the colour of the sea... When you swim that bit too far out Your feet can no longer touch the sand underneath
By Rebecca5 years ago in Poets
Very young, we knew that we were different. Our body told us and continues to remind us. The lesson- is to listen when your body speaks.
By Goddess Ses5 years ago in Poets
The River Time parked my sadness on its shoals today. Then it guided reflective ripples over its inland-smoothed pebbles. Just like a gentle shepherd. Kind and unwavering.
By Raissa Dassel5 years ago in Poets
My dearest friends’ arrival, Clocked by the long shade, Commences for myself alone, A vivid, sad, parade. Emerging first, a hook-clawed ear
By Claire S5 years ago in Poets
I am invisible, A phantom, a specter Seen, but not seen... White I am fire, Angry, moody, yelling Causing pain, havoc
By Allen5 years ago in Poets
Ideologies can only get you so far. They swell and recede like the tide, wrangled by the moon. As certain as sky they come back again,
By Anna Volk5 years ago in Poets
Morning grey presses, urgently, against midnight blue Lifting, straining, shrugging of shoulders Underbelly of clouds, mirror morning rays
By Steven De Booy5 years ago in Poets
streets lined with red and gold bodies dash through the mad parade the air is filled with shouts of celebration muted by the drums ringing in my ears
By Chloë Chang5 years ago in Poets
