Prose

The Colors Within
Souls have color, Or so they say.... And on no particular day, I looked around and saw. She is the color of orange,
By Lane Burnsabout a year ago in Poets
New Year's Eve With Mother C
On the last night of every December Before putting away the Christmas tree You're invited to the soiree of the year So come and join the fun, there’s no door fee
By Mother Combsabout a year ago in Poets
Dancing Rhythms
Joyful rhymes enter inside the blood flowing in the veins.Chattering, the new siren sounds of our new times begin life in pieces of our body. Shining showers of happiness in the obsessed body. Eyes are painted with new glows of the new, shining, bright lights lying horizontal. Beautiful feeling entering into our life, filling the void of our erosion with fulfilling passions.
By Anket Sharmaabout a year ago in Poets
"2025 GOALS TAKE 3". Content Warning.
This 2025 goal creation was an eight-hour project. The first writing is my original poetry. The second poem is the song as I had to create a 4-minute song. The words are slightly different. All copyright 2024 Trusselli Art
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli about a year ago in Poets
Staring into the Void
Standing at the edge staring off into space Wishing that life wasn’t such a vacuum Forcing me to take stock of the nothingness before me
By Mother Combsabout a year ago in Poets
Not a Word
I don’t care if it’s not a word I’m using it You heard If the antonym is real Then by god I’ll use anything that sounds right
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
Hacker
Rewriting the code To get rid of memories we hold Of times we scold Fearing the cheering of holidays And birthdays delight
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
You’re my Drug
You’re my my drug You’re my Dopamine dreams Raving romance Unimaginably uplifting Giddily giggling Together in the moonlight
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
Silly Studies In Scribbling
What good's a great plot When your characters cannot Roll it up the hill? /// What good’s a setting Lying lifeless on the page—
By Matthew J. Frommabout a year ago in Poets
Whispers to Myself
It’s so much to do, yet there’s nothing for me. Life goes on, I tell myself, but am I going along with life? These are the questions I ask myself: Am I enough? Am I worthy of your time?
By Ahnijah fonsecaabout a year ago in Poets
The Writer
Creation is not a right, Not a power or a privilege, A gift, given freely and often, For those who can wield its power.
By Bradley Ramseyabout a year ago in Poets
Polyfil People
Walking around in this world is like being 5 wearing my father's suit Yea it looks cute but we all know that it doesn't fit
By Ellie Hoovsabout a year ago in Poets