Poetry Category

Untitled

a fire burns beneath my feet forming black calluses flakes blowing behind as I move forward slowly morphing into ash Advertisements

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Scent

I catch a scent in the breeze just a short sweet burst and it feels like home it feels like safety

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Between Pages

I live my life like a novel every bad thing is my battle my personal growth every good memory is like a Hallmark movie I roll between the pages knowing my future, pre-determined lies between the spines of these musty pages I live my life like a novel waiting for the final moment, my happy […]

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#1056

a writer dedicates themselves to the love of language the written word learning the way words flow parts of speech working together falling into just the right place and the period ends right where the next thought begins a poet is moved by passion desire the flow going against the grain and the power, oh, […]

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The Artist

let me paint a picture for you of the colors and lines dancing across the page nonsense ink blotches and tangled designs masking the face that lies beneath

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Moody Moods

When the sadness settles over me my hand grasps the pen violently scraping holes digging for help the truth and my fingernails collect the gritty dirt as the ink blotches, smudging illegible words

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Exit

the years take their claim rings spiral around a tree trunk layers of dust settle on worn china an owner-less leash hangs by the door forgotten secrets and hidden treasures the ticking of a clock drowning calling as they come, they move towards extinction

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Peace

a thousand stories live in my mind characters wandering through the membranes enacting their live parallel to one another filling my mind with words and voices and I’d much rather live with them, moving inside, than face the world around me

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Enough

we’ve become consumed with¬†living our lives that we forget to wonder we forget to marvel at the fact that we built this society¬†from the earth from the rubble and remains of the “less than” and “inferior” but look at her chest rise and fall filling with warm air and we are alive we are breathing […]

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Growth

a tiny seed is planted buried down to the root at the base of a dying willow the rain beat down as green pushed through the earth struggling growing unknowing of this cruel world

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