Four minds are at work in this charming scene: Boss, secretary, laborer, artist The last is so clear as to be unseen
By D. J. Reddall2 years ago in Poets
The unsatiated anger that blinded the sights of glee, In the erratic ferocity of animosity, he pushed away the light that everyone could see.
By Hridya Sharma2 years ago in Poets
My keys don’t jingle jangle They’re a tale of tales A web of confusion Sewn to protect what I hold dear A tool A mechanism
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
I’ve been the last line to many Just another pretty penny A daring glance A lark A shot in the dark A tree that harkens you to rub against its bark
I ought to run him through, this callow twit! Ogling Juna as he would a ham Or a plague victim specked with sores and shit
The simmering terrors of its essence set its fangs deep, Trembling with the exasperation of toil, I tirelessly strive in the endeavours of the promises to keep
Three bodies floating through reality Circling around a center None dare enter For if any one has full control All falls apart
Waking up to the uncomfortable reality I have no peers Or if I do they’re nowhere near We are all scattered across the earth
It is imperative To remember Suffering is not comparative A loss is a loss No matter how much or little the cost may seem to you
What would life be like if someone got to know us The real us The one inside The one we always hide The child that never grew up
I often lose myself wandering in the long-lost hues of the sky, I often wander in the dreams of what beyond eternity lies.
This poem was written in response to the Rattle® Poetry Ekphrastic Challenge for March 2024 and was ultimately not selected. You can find more information here. https://www.rattle.com/ekphrastic/
By Rae Fairchild (MRB)2 years ago in Poets
