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Sep 2018 · 4.0k
Raining daisies
emnabee Sep 2018
What if it rained daisies today?
And no one got wet
and nothing washed away?

What if the sun shone bright
as daisies flew?

What if the breeze blew
soft daisies like spinners
in the wind?

Would we all be happy then?
Aug 2018 · 5.4k
emnabee Aug 2018
I was down.

And so I decided I needed flowers.

But not roses. Because roses have thorns.
And I am so sensitive lately.

I decided, not mixed flowers.
Because I’m mixed up.
And I need to stabilize.

I decided, not tulips.
Because tulips droop.

I decided,
I need gerbera daisies, bright.

Because gerbera daisies stand upright.

And so I bought some
in a wonderful shade of Fuchsia.
Jul 2018 · 17.5k
emnabee Jul 2018
I don’t feel close
to poetry.

It feels elusive.
Once it spoke to me.
But now it’s mute.

It sits back
and doesn’t look
at me.

If I call out
it doesn’t hear.

Lately poetry is
like that demon
I used to want
to reappear.
Jul 2018 · 496
What poetry can be
emnabee Jul 2018
A philosophy
A daydream
A stream
A leap
A tiny thought
An observation
A declaration
An ode
A letter
A look
A light
A treat
A plea
Just thinking.
Jul 2018 · 337
immobile poem
emnabee Jul 2018
Wasted space
Borrowed air
Dead weight
Catatonic stare
Doesn’t matter. Don’t care.
May 2018 · 120.3k
The secret life of poets
emnabee May 2018
The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.
A little escape from the madness.
Or maybe, into.

— The End —