Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Aug 5
Bekah Halle
This morning
On my way to work,
In a busy part of town,
But not too far from the Australian bush,
Bounced not one, not two
But five, feirce and fury,
High back, red kangaroos.

It was so shocking that I let out a scream!
It felt surreal, like a scene from Spielberg’s “Jurassic Park” in my backyard.
I wonder what will happen tonight
On my way home…
 Aug 5
Bekah Halle
As a poet and a believer —
I am a minor player
in a major score:
Hallelujah!

That there's so much more;
More poetry to underscore
More connections to wire galore
More time to forgive and forge
New healing paths
Despite the destruction before the wrath,
Hallelujah!

May I play today
The tune written before the dawn,
So the symphony
Can rise once more
Wrapping us all in love forever more;

Hallelujah!
Thank you, Leonard Cohen, for the tune inspiration and Jesus for the life inspiration.
 Aug 4
guy scutellaro
IF
I could see myself as I truly am.
what would I see???
 Aug 4
Bipasha Dutt
The dampness
of the rainy season
        is soaking into
My bones
And
Into my being
 Aug 4
Carlo C Gomez
~
Two minutes of perseverance
two minutes of curiosity

Seeking out life
returning with ingenuity

It's all about surfaces and thresholds
and winter hemisphere

Each of us wants so badly
to be that next satellite

Or at least be allowed
to dream we're a small dark spot
moving across the Sun's face

~
 Aug 4
Bekah Halle
Overthinking leads to no thinking, 
dead thinking or mind shrinking;
Heart-sinking —

So, what's the re-thinking
I need to assimilate, relinking
my spirit, head and heart-syncing?

Poetry mixing?!
Send new neural pathway tricksing,
increasing symbiosis by osmosis,
Boom...Hope winking!
 Aug 3
CJ Sutherland
A poet writes
of the yellow brick Road to the Wizard of Oz
I’m grasping at straws

Poetry of substance Worthy of a cause

I’m Grasping at straws
I read poetry without flaws

I’m grasping at straws
Poetry so deep in content, I am in awe

I’m grasping at straws
Poetry so reflective I have to take a pause

Yet still I’m grasping at straws

This is more than writer’s block
My Acadian clock stopped

My brother passed away
I can’t find anything to say
Can’t breathe I cry and pray

Words betray my heart
Numb my brother and I apart

My Tears will stop life will be OK
I hope today would be a better day

I read poetry to fill the hole
Until grief, depression loss lets me go
Living moment, by moment is all I know

A rebel without a cause
I’m grasping at straws

Inspired song

Take this pain
By Jake Banfield 2022
I can’t seem to write anything of substance. My heart just isn’t in it. I read such inspiration epic poem. Trying to find my voice again. I’m not one who wants to write like somebody else. I may and I’m good at it. My brother was three years older than me Just saying that sentence has me in tears.
 Aug 3
Riz Mack
With a week to live
how would you live it?

Sulk?
Celebrate?
Would it be different?

Would you reminisce
on your livelier days?

Or love
in the last of them
every which way?
I know
 Aug 2
Ken Pepiton
Optimo, they say in Pahree,
of course, you knew,

fine is just fine for the unworldly.

For such as inhabit my spirit realm,
nothing but the best of days remain.

Madness, as a pastime,
suffices as artificial, made artwise,
too beautiful for any common sense…

ah, yet, on such a day, we may
agree we find time expands,
at a glance from those
makers
of perfect sense
from pastence, old lines
yes, optimo, fine lines
the best, in fact
oh,
some time ago, when all were mad as I.

---------------
While watching Hepburn
as the Mad Woman of Chaillot,
because, voila, I sought a forgotten line, from when,
as a boy of seventeen, I played Yul Brenner's role,
while then, my best friend,
some while dead, now,
had the role Danny Kaye plays
in the movie, I never watched
until today.

But, why,
of course, your curiosity is piqued, perhaps

the perfect point,
what we reexperience
is richer than just fine, it must be truly optimo
to meet criteria of old age mere satisfaction,

whereby we call all our ghosts
to laugh once more, exactly as before.

Of course with somewhat greater effect.
Assuming you know what I mean,
those Jungian types are quite alive… the greedy,

the payers of tribute
to Trump and his ilk selling
Israel fine American genocide tech.
blaue Blutergüsse- blue bruised mushrooming recollection from some of life's best experiences, we do live inside the best indexed library in ever... we can relive remindings given us by künstliche Intelligenz und Grok-Frühzugang with Google Translate fully functional. - slightly Asimov inspired.
 Aug 2
Bekah Halle
Every moment is precious
even the mundane and superfluous.
The torment, grief-stricken and disastrous

all these moments, yes all, are the days of MY life.

New secrets discovered__
more moments cry out to be recovered.
Embracing all, nurturing, to be mothered,
anew, renewed, refreshed and restored.

Press in; delight.
Expand; day and night,
Rejoice; praise despite,
living as new, but in the old.

Maturity presses sweeter wine,
Wisdom pearls are mine,
all these gifts are thine,
I drink this cup, now and forever.
 Aug 2
Dr Peter Lim
You asked me then
what I was waiting for
the truth is
I wasn't  sure

I was looking at the sea
from the shore
totally absorbed
an experience I never had before

such moments are rare
beyond what the mind can explore
the Zen of being in silence
with such mystery in store

and now I've grown
gray and old-- on the same shore
that past moment I can't re-capture
vanished is that wondrous sense of awe.
Next page