Free Verse

A Man Who Loved Himself
A Man Who Loved Himself He tipped his hat to mirrored panes, admired the cut of jaw and chin, paused to grin at window walls
By Marie381Uk a day ago in Poets
A Hymn for Love Drunk on Sin
Love prowls alleys of spirit, perfumed venom sweetens wounds. Lips trade vows like contraband, kisses scorch faith to ash.
By Tim Carmichaela day ago in Poets
Love for Japan
I have never been to Japan, yet I am drawn to its life philosophies, to the beauty of its countryside. I read its cultures,
By Seema Patela day ago in Poets
Instructions for Attachment
Begin by assuming something has already taken hold. Do not wait for confirmation. Attachment does not arrive with ceremony.
By Rebecca A Hyde Gonzalesa day ago in Poets
The ‘69 Impala I’m Selling
The '69 Impala I'm Selling it has a big back seat. The trunk, it’s even bigger, beyond a threshold. It can hold most of my living room.
By Gerry Thibeaulta day ago in Poets
The Wolf Poetry Contest
Our Poem a Day in February (PaDiF) starts tomorrow I was able to borrow a wolf photo from an artist, I know that looked like the photo above and below
By Denise E Lindquista day ago in Poets
the book I never should have opened
the truth exists confessed then tucked away in tampon boxes under the sink . it’s not a glamorous place to hide a secret, but it’s where
By Leigh Victoria Phan, MS, MFA2 days ago in Poets
Jesus Weeps Real Tears
Jesus Weeps Real Tears Jesus Weeps Real Tears not fake. he hurts for us each day He does not pose for the paintings. He does not glide on air.
By Marie381Uk 2 days ago in Poets
Instructions for Coming Out Gay in a Pentecostal Southern Family
Begin at Sunday dinner, post-service, when Granny speaks in tongues, in a key that would make angels cover their ears and spiders applaud.
By Tim Carmichael2 days ago in Poets
Out of Frequency
Sometimes it feels futile to place precise, emotionally intelligent work into systems built for sameness. Algorithms reward familiarity, not resonance.
By Alicia Melnick 2 days ago in Poets
Structures Rising
The latent lust sprinkles matters like moonbeams through a window barely whispering greetings. Structures know the melting of egos or the moment never lasts but form flutters a format for diplomats to rise again in heroes cloaks that they cannot wear because they're not allowed to. So, inference is a bargain in ideals. Torrent is a scream from the heart. Peace is in the window.
By Canuck Scriber Lisa Lachapelle2 days ago in Poets
Instructions for The House Nobody Knows
Touch a door that does not claim importance. Knock once. If nobody answers, enter anyway. * Bring nothing shiny. Bring nothing meant for trade.
By Tim Carmichael2 days ago in Poets