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Tales of Torment: Slumber’s Absence Returns
wake me if you will, slumber's absence steal from me what you will, at least when you come, you leave the door shut still, through the window, cold wind blows
By Josh Morganabout a year ago in Poets
Lingering
The lingering, tingling feeling Of when you’re not here The sensation of your presence Still felt Like a welt on my psyche
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
Ink
In a whale’s belly The squid spun to stare at me He gave me a gift Grew the grass for her Watered with my blood, a tree
By Wen Xiaoshengabout a year ago in Poets
Follow?
The hot searing sting of heartbreak on my cheeks the hurt that you refuse to hear the ache that you refuse to own
By Ellie Hoovsabout a year ago in Poets
I’ll Miss You
I'll miss you~ Later than tonight and Long after tomorrow My pen will cry, black tears, until my canvas is no longer wondering
By Josh Morganabout a year ago in Poets
Money
Trying to collect money Is like trying to catch sand The more you have The less it fits in your hand There will never be enough time to collect it all
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
Blessing
The world is hard cracked & crusted dry barren needing & wanting plagued. Yet there are gleams. Silver in the gray
By Ellie Hoovsabout a year ago in Poets
Publication pending
Dear Vocal friends. As I am about to catapult this new collection of assorted verse into an unsympathetic marketplace, I thought I would offer it first to my online buddies for review. This, in the hope that you might either (a) persuade me of the error of my intentions or (b) want to review the contents and advise your various followings, online or off, as to its literary merits (or otherwise). In short, advise them whether (or not) they ought to buy it. To me, a bad review is as high a compliment as a good review, perhaps higher. That said, I would hope that reviewers find something of worth in my words.
By Raymond G. Taylorabout a year ago in Poets
Tales of Torment: A Bittersweet Symphony
sometimes i think of me, in the possibility that i might've been appointed to agony‐ forced to face the music these tales of torment make
By Josh Morganabout a year ago in Poets
Work
The hours pass tick tock tick tock reminding me -no- taunting me, that time is fleeting, fickle,
By Ellie Hoovsabout a year ago in Poets
Eighth Haiku
What great guilt, all the better, Grandma swallows stone, For she is the wolf
By Wen Xiaoshengabout a year ago in Poets
Whisper
The September air whispers of all things golden and me. She whispers of the color of my crown - the one passed down
By Ellie Hoovsabout a year ago in Poets