Stream of Consciousness

Exposed
I write in slow-motion with the same anxiety in my pocket that I carry to a party, or school. To work, or your bed.
By Sandra Matos2 years ago in Poets
Echoes of Empathy
The balance of the heart and mind. In the dance of light and dark, we find, A chance to mend, to keep on spinning. With every dawn, a new beginning,
By Pam Zee2 years ago in Poets
You Are Not a Sin
You are not a sin. Now, that line rumbles through my spine, decaying old scripts that were woven into my being. I have held hands with the devil and fell in love with God's angels.
By g. whiles2 years ago in Poets
Shatterproof, I wish I was
Shatterproof "I wish I was" S c a t t e r e d charred ashes these wounds are my own Splatterproof "If only I was"
By Paul Stewart2 years ago in Poets
Bone of a Beat. Content Warning.
Bone of a Beat. I tap the xylophone ribs. The skull head drum keeps the rhythm. A bone flute whistling high. The bone guitar wailing chords.
By Seashell Harpspring 2 years ago in Poets
An Abecedarian
A life's worth of idioms, but still true wisdom eludes me. Cart before the horse; depicts what I have always done, rushing
By Margot2 years ago in Poets
Peace Enters
Recently, I’ve been inspired to start writing after my meditation. Some of it’s good, and some of it is just very weird. But it’s always interesting.
By Aaron Waddell - The Everyday Mystic2 years ago in Poets
A Feeble Word
One simple word. Only four letters long. Used to simplify or label an experience that is indescribable. Love. The use of such word varies in meaning. Not just throughout time or between people, but with each experience, spark, situation, and even sentence. To say the word is rather feeble.
By Sady Bayne 2 years ago in Poets
Witness me
And suddenly, without looking or wishing or begging, it’s you. And I always had this secret belief about love ‘The one’ wouldn’t give me a chance to hesitate and I wouldn’t feel the need to
By AJ2 years ago in Poets
Some days I wish I were a walnut. Top Story - February 2024.
Some days I wish I were a walnut, And thought my shell to be the extent of the world. I'd know every crevasse, every wrinkle of my shell
By Salomé Saffiri2 years ago in Poets
Today...
I'm going to wake up and stretch, I'm going to drink my coffee cold, I'm going to feel my age, With grace, yet never growing old.
By Carol Ann Townend2 years ago in Poets
Echoes of the Lost Path. Content Warning.
In the labyrinth of life, we sometimes stray, Where familiar paths fade to shades of gray. Lost in the whispers of the winding way,
By Ashiii2 years ago in Poets