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 Jan 2018
Melissa Rose
I am drunk on desperation
upon the clifftops of despair
Will I take the leap of faith?
or continue to live in fear?

Ashamed for feeling broken
I am trapped within my past
I must unravel these emotions
to truly be free at last

I want to confront this darkness
Shed some light upon this pain
Reveal the creepy shadow monsters
before they seep into my brain

Made to believe I was not good enough
is what keeps me feeling weak
I learned so young not to love myself
from the Death Mother’s critique

There's this child in need of healing
who keeps tugging at my sleeve
as I kneel to finally greet her
she softly whispers, “It’s safe to grieve.”
1/8/17
 Jan 2018
Francie Lynch
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Finally. I'd been striving for a one word poem. After achieving it, I wanted a no word poem. Here it is. I guess this is no longer mine, but ours.

"The Invisible Poem" was selected as the Daily.
I'm humbled... to say nothing.
But I believe a response is necessary.
To all those who liked, loved and commented, I say thank you. I've read all you've written, and most of it is very creative and complimentary.
There are others, detractors, who claim "*******," etc.
Well of course, this only begs the question, "What is poetry?"
I can't answer that. I've written on it. But what I do know is what poetry should do. Its purpose.
If a poem should arouse emotions, bad or good, make people think, have people want to write, to express themselves (and I believe I'm on the mark here), then, anything can be a poem. Even a page with lines on it.
Thanks again to all the readers.
And if you're still *******, don't attack me... go after Elliot. :)
Evil has gotten itself a gun
              The end of the world has just begun.
                              ljm
Every day an innocent gets shot, all too often by a cop.
 Jan 2018
sunprincess
Positivity is most beautiful
Don't you think so, too?
Like after a sudden rain shower,
and a gorgeous sky of blue
Oh, positivity is so cool
 Dec 2017
Ryan Holden
Even if my scars
Are visible, or they cut too,
You are my ointment.

I want you as mine
I want you as remedy.
I want you for life.

I don't want you to
add more scars, I have ran low
on skin to be cut.
The smoke hazes the setting sun
as the fire burns remains of the last crop
proffering ashes to the wind.

It's all the wind gets
as the memento of the last harvest.

On the new soil
once again there'll be tilling
and God willing
seeds waiting hope laden
will sprout into corn.

What's dead is to be reborn.
Cornfield in setting sun, Dec 23, 4.30 pm
 Dec 2017
Zachary William
We went to the
humane society
to get acquainted
with some cats
and we met a cat
who was returned
after five years in
a loving home
because he was
an inconvenience
and found another
labeled
"hidden treasure"
which was an
awfully nice
way of saying
that this cat had
been abused
and would never
be a 'normal' cat
a plaything for your
kids
a trophy for your
instagram
and in his bleary
eyes as he tried to hide
behind a scratching
post to avoid the fingers
of strangers poking through
the safety of his plexiglass
in his eyes I saw
more humanity
than I'd ever seen or felt
in my life
and I sent a silent
prayer to my intermittent god
hoping that he found a home
and happiness
because he never did anything wrong
other than be born into a world
where the value of life
is on a sliding scale
based on agenda and feeling
rather than the simple
acknowledgement
that life needs
to flourish

And I cried in the car
on the way home
because I have no space for
him in my life
and I wept
over the pain
and panic in his eyes
that is so easily recognizable
after you've seen the same
eyes in your mirror
for too many years
and all I can do I rewrite
the narrative for my cats,
rescued from poor circumstance
and impulse
and give them life
and help them flourish
and breathe into their
very existence
a notion of security and hope
and warmth
and love
Love your pets as they love you.
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