Stream of Consciousness

Burnt Into The Light Of Day. Content Warning.
Some of my dreams Should never see the light of day But this one’s burned in It just won’t go away ——— To vent means to air it out
By Sarah Wilcox2 years ago in Poets
A Buoy. Content Warning.
**Author's Note/Content Warning: This was influenced by the recent and sudden passing of a colleague. - Just a buoy, anchored and tethered, but at the mercy of the waves.
By Alyssa Musso2 years ago in Poets
Serpentine Clean
Minor, that chord, it sounds for us Mirror, the chant, the fall's choir The serpents gather for their feast With empty eyes and honeyed tongues
By Paul Stewart2 years ago in Poets
My Transformation
MY TRANSFORMATION Do you know how hard it is to walk away from all you've known to be? Maybe?! No one walks without a fight. What we've always known are the slavemasters while our fears and ego are the slavedrivers. Many of us have been drowning in our fears and ego for decades now; not one nor two, a couple more decades, the reason why many wake up in their 30s and realise life has passed them by.
By Gratitude LEKUNKENG2 years ago in Poets
Where Be Our Cincinnatus?
Where be our Cincinnatus? That golden hero of yore Where be our Cincinnatus? To whom even Washington swore
By Matthew J. Fromm2 years ago in Poets
Beyond Illusions
Rumi, the 13th-century Persian poet, mystic, and philosopher, has left a profound legacy of timeless wisdom. Among his many poignant insights, one particularly resonates with our human struggle to forge meaningful connections: "Why struggle to open the door between us when the whole wall is an illusion?"
By Jassila 2 years ago in Poets
Incendiary-Like Vocabulary
"sticks and stones can break my bones but words will never hurt me" the greatest lie ever told they don't just hurt, they burn-
By Josh Morgan2 years ago in Poets
Haunted by the Past: The Search for Solace in an Ancient Temple
Shattered Glass Heart My boots scuff against the worn stone floor – of the ancient temple. The temple is stale, thick with the scent of aged dust and forgotten prayers.
By Kingsley Gomes, PhD.2 years ago in Poets
Whispering wind
In the quiet of the night, When stars shine so bright, Whispers of the winds call, Through the trees, so tall. Moonlight dances on the sea, Casting shadows, wild and free. Nature sings its gentle tune, Beneath the watchful, silver moon.
By Ribin2 years ago in Poets
Did It Ever Exist?
I forgot to remember them, the soft hues of orange and green that once surrounded me I forgot to remember the soft pink of your lips
By Shakia2 years ago in Poets
Picking Up the Pieces
It's only when you stop to think about things that everything starts to make sense. The pieces start to come together on their own, like they were just waiting all along.
By Alyssa Musso2 years ago in Poets
Rehab
In shadows cast by fractured light, Where echoes of despair take flight, A soul in turmoil seeks the day, Through pathways dark, finds its way.
By Abbas2 years ago in Poets