Every passing moment grew darker until Clouded, obscured, your life force receded Love never felt so without purpose, unneeded
By Natalie Wilkinson2 years ago in Poets
Everyone is writing about the moon Can we just pretend that the sun won't come up for a while Let's make love in ways only writers know and others only dream of
By Catherine Nyomenda2 years ago in Poets
each prospect of time (cyclical, linear, parallel, frozen) made sense when I cut my hair so you could cradle my skull and I started wearing glasses
By Erin Latham Shea2 years ago in Poets
I know it's a vile chimera; clinging to a broken dream, That because of your photos It's still alive in my fridge. If time wanted it that way,
By Writing For Me2 years ago in Poets
Everything fades, one way or another, Culminating in a grand finale, a final smothering dark. Light, love, laughter, all drown in its embrace,
By Ian Read2 years ago in Poets
Ego was worn as a crown of pride, as the phoenix flew higher and higher up towards the stoical sun. "Could I not become mightier than you, Sun"? He shouted disrespectfully, thinking himself immortal, as he got closer and closer.
By Novel Allen2 years ago in Poets
Egregious, emphatically in suspense, Contusive bump of light on water, reflection, Languish lamp of shaded fantasy, correction,
By Gabriela Trofin-Tatár2 years ago in Poets
Ecstasy of the rainbow drops Cascading water that’s dancing with the moon Light of celestial specks in the mist far away
By Ute Luppertz ✨ 2 years ago in Poets
Everyone looks at the sky; Clouds gather, cluster up high. Light that has blinded our eyes Instantly brought down to size.
By Rachel Deeming2 years ago in Poets
Everything in sync, kept in beat like a metronome by my automaton toy, unseen for years Clockwork motor powering the gears
By simplicity2 years ago in Poets
Evening before the eclipse in Tepic, Mexico Cartel activity very near our destination Last chance to bail before the point of no return
By Everyday Junglist2 years ago in Poets
The winter sat in me loud and galore, Alas, the summer that once warmed the heart sings in me no more. The beauty of life sets in its amorous swarm,
By Hridya Sharma2 years ago in Poets
