Originally posted on kiwissoar:
It’s that season again, where you accidentally grab cicadas when you’re un-pegging your washing, the woolly aphids are decorating the apple tree with white candy-cotton – and there are always two or three bees at once down the throats of the pumpkin flowers. bumble-footed bees stumble, stoned among the pumpkin flowers…
Originally posted on a.mermaid'spen_:
I met this guy on the shore, He was cool, funny and something more. Bright ocean blue eyes and a strong jawline, With a height, almost fine. Golden hair, perfect lips, He was roaming around the ships. Due to shore’s haze My whole body shuddered under his gaze. He…
Originally posted on Reowr:
We fought with daffodil swordsThat never stayed straightWith tips always drooped in defeat,But it never mattered when daffodils scatteredAnd littered the grass at our feet. All our hope we would place in a big red balloonAs we set it to sail for the sun,But though it deflated, our hope was inflatedBy…
Originally posted on Simply My Swank:
Another day Same old song Bank is empty Weather’s wrong Boat is old Crew is too Don’t know what He’s going to do. ? Photo by Agustin Piñero on Pexels.com Aching arms screaming back pickin’ up other’s slack Weathered hands Tired eyes Long day had Sudden surprise. ? Sees…
BY AISHWARYA SHAH On Letting Go… To let go doesn’t mean to stop caring; It means I can’t do it for someone else. To let go is not to cut myself off… It’s the realization that I can’t control another… To let go is not to enable, but to allow learning from natural consequences. To […]
Originally posted on Shiny Objects:
He left the room. He left it too soon, And with tension yet unrelieved, Taut as a steel cable Attaching him To her. ? He got in the car. Slamming the door, Stomping the clutch, And throwing the lever to R Before the car even caught its breath. ? This…
Plaashek (Uys Krige) Bloedrooi die alwyn langs die slingerpad. Dis of daar vonke uit elk vuurpyl spat. Maar niks, niks roer nie…net ‘n luggie wat skrams aan die ritselende grassate vat. Daarbo die blou, blou lug, daaronder die rivier wat deur die boorde kronkel met ‘n groen swier. Niks stoor die yle swewende Bergstilte hier. […]
Originally posted on Pen Your Heart On Paper:
“Some of my friends claim that there’s more to this poem than what meets the eye.?I wonder why. I mean, I was pretty direct and plain with my words. ?Dimension in another dimension? “ It is what it is. Right?? Dear sleep, It’s no news that we’re…
Author: Monica Byrne My wonderful father, at age 76, has won a poetry prize. Here is the winning poem: “You Must Stop Reminiscing at Every Date,” about my mother. By Donald E. Byrne Jr., published in Red Clay Review, November 2017. Posted with permission. Read it aloud. ~ We do the annual calendar together: I […]
Originally posted on (CALIATH):
A little revenge poem I wrote, dedicated to an ancient significant of mine. May he burn in peace.
