Stream of Consciousness

The Placement
Yes, it could have been made with, the cheapest leather, it may have gone older by now, it may have gone faded and less glowing,
By P.A.Vinura Jayasanka2 years ago in Poets
Derelict
Once, it brought us to life You lauded this renovation Hailed it “Our greatest accomplishment.” “Our True North”
By Matthew J. Fromm2 years ago in Poets
Navigating the River of Me
“Beginning well is a momentary thing; finishing well is a lifelong thing.” Ravi Zacharias (1946–2020) I stand on the shoreline, before the 'River of Me.'
By Dr. Marie Grace2 years ago in Poets
Teenage Dream?
What would I tell teenage me? Fairy tale endings are never as they seem. The acne goes away, But the insecurities don't.
By Kiersten Weldon2 years ago in Poets
Natural Shared Secrets
In a realm where nature's whispers weave, A secret language, plants conceive. Leaves rustle in the gentle breeze, A tale unfolds, told by the trees.
By Mason Darnielle2 years ago in Poets
LOOKING OUT TO SEA"
I lived in South Texas on a peninsula protruding into the Gulf of Mexico in the fishing villages of Fulton and Rockport. I took the photo one foggy day 9 years ago. When I lived there the tropical birds that occupied the coast became my friends and my comfort zone as they seemed to pose for me on many occasions. I have so many personal photos of the beautiful birds of South Texas. I wanted to share with my friends on Vocal.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 2 years ago in Poets
Angry at the Sun
I am angry at the sun. I am angry at the sun for shining its spotlight on my insecurities. The sweat on my brow, The sweat on my upper lip, The sweat pouring down my face In buckets; I am a mess. I am angry at the sun for searing my flesh Though I did everything I could to prevent from being cooked alive. I think the sun wants to eat me. Although my flesh is browned and charred by the hellish sun, I don't smell very delectable at all. I wouldn't eat me. I am angry at the sun for weighing me down with its unbearable heat. Heat that I carry upon my back and in the sweat on my brow that pulls me down to the depths of hell until I'm too weary to go on. I am angry at the sun for causing my skin to grow older than my heart and for causing the cancer to grow in the skin of my father and mother. I am really angry at the sun for that. The sun is a cancerous growth pressing down on the charred flesh of my shoulders Increasing the volume of sweat in my brow and on my lip Reminding me that I could have just stayed inside instead.
By Danielle Romeo Hay2 years ago in Poets
QUESTION
Will I be given time enough to write? Write what I think I now know? Write what has happened since last I wrote? Before I leave--
By Martha Agnes2 years ago in Poets
Late Nights at the Search Bar. Content Warning.
Do you believe me as a victim if I still perform well? Does a good mood undermine all I’ve lost? Is happy, healthy, and traumatized allowed?
By Test2 years ago in Poets
INTJ "The Perfectionist Strategist"
With mind that pierces through the veils of night, The architect, a soul of keenest sight, Doth delve in logic's depths, with purpose strong,
By Diorino Galvano2 years ago in Poets
The Unexpected Blessings
In the core of a clamoring city, Rachel wound up at a junction, lost in the maze of life. It was a dim and turbulent night when misfortune struck.
By Ishaq A2 years ago in Poets
Alone
Thrown into the silent night No words uttered on my lips Only emptiness filling the void Like lightning in the darkest abyss
By ardent yulian2 years ago in Poets