Villanelle

“Midnight Threads”
I put my thoughts into threads that come at night. Making quiet stories that the dark can read. Each one holds a heavy feeling.
By Emily2 months ago in Poets
Dance of perfumed shadows
Feet, don’t fail me tonight, Each step a stumble, each breath a quake, Within these halls, I stand contrite. Here drifts the air, a perfumed invite;
By Markéta Vegrichtová 2 months ago in Poets
No Chance
Introduction This is a fictional situation, whatever you might read into it No Chance ⛔🚫📵🚷📵🚫⛔ I Thought I'd Write A Villanelle With This Form, I Am An Expert They Said No Chance, Now Go To Hell ⛔🚫🚷🚫⛔ And They Don't Think My Work Will Sell Anyone Else Is Far Better I Thought I'd Write A Villanelle ⛔🚫🚷🚫⛔ Then They Rang Their Funeral Bell Saying I Should Never Bother They Said No Chance, Now Go To Hell ⛔🚫🚷🚫⛔ I'm The One They Want to Expel But Know I Am Here Forever I Thought I'd Write A Villanelle ⛔🚫🚷🚫⛔ Know I Do This Perfectly Well And Any Regret Will Be Theirs They Said No Chance, Now Go To Hell ⛔🚫🚷🚫⛔ This Is The Story I Will Tell I Have No Regret, It Is Theirs I Thought I'd Write A Villanelle They Said No Chance, Now Go To Hell ⛔🚫📵🚷📵🚫⛔
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 2 months ago in Poets
They’re Not Actually Ignorant
These people say: “If you can’t afford kids, don’t have them!” Ignorance. It’s bliss I guess. “To lazy to work or get job, that’s you’re problem.”
By Hope Martin2 months ago in Poets
Expiration
How long was I living, loving your lies? Pupil of pain—ignorance, my disease. Kill my hope so I might come out alive. ~~~
By SUEDE the poet2 months ago in Poets
Feel This Way
I don't know how to feel this way. We were in love, and I, delighted. And then, you left and didn't say why you went off to get away.
By Julie Lacksonen2 months ago in Poets
What the Wind Remembers
The wind remembers things we forget. It carries the laughter we left behind on porches, the promises we folded into paper cranes,
By Emily2 months ago in Poets
Barista
Devotion to you is my piety, Heart pounding each time, not ashamed to confess; Every sip of you, anxiety. Paralyzed by your variety,
By James Leek2 months ago in Poets
The Mirror Cycle (Poetry)
I. The Mirror Isn’t Me (Philosophical — AABB) . I look into the mirror’s face, A quiet, silver, borrowed space. It copies me without a sound,
By Peter Thwing - Host of the FST Podcast2 months ago in Poets
let wisdom speak
fear not, friends, the reckoning of old age nor regret the vanishing of thy youth; let wisdom speak with the voice of a sage.
By John Cox2 months ago in Poets
1 Year Later - I've Made It, No You Have - No I Have , No You, Truly You
Okay, you know what " I" am going to say right, that without, you, it couldn't have been possible! Without the things you have done, life isn't the way it was, and I will just have to say - trust and believe.
By 365poetry2 months ago in Poets
We Are
One day my name will be forgotten Fiction always challenges the sane All things will be forgotten in the end *** Beautifully attractive, while inside the core is rotten
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden2 months ago in Poets