n0r: Favorites

May 2018 n0r

The Depths

May 2018 n0r

Virtuous

With the heart of a mermaid
And love for the sea
I was created to explore...
The depths of life and meaning
The depths of identity
And of the soul
So I dive
Unaware of what I'm searching for
And yet so ready to find it

May 2018 n0r

Lost in Poetry

May 2018 n0r

Cné

Lost in Poetry

Poetry comes back to me
where long there had been none.
Lyrical, the imagery, once shared
and then was done.

Thoughts of such sincerity
in words that grace the page,
Race across the span of time
that bridge the gap of age.

Trusting in the ardor that
has cooled and healed with time,
I read again the tender lines
of kindred souls, in rhyme.

Oh spirit of another age,
reach out from time and space.
Fan the embers turned to ash
and torpid ruin replace.

#lostandmuseless #writinganyway

May 2018 n0r

Her Favorite Song

May 2018 n0r

Colm

Her Favorite Song

The universe puts her headphones on
And plays her favorite track
The raindrops in the meadow burst
And soak the earth
And with her feet up on the world
She smiles from ear to ear
And plays it back

What songs does the universe listen to? Is there a more beautiful sound than the rain falling in the secluded meadow. Truthfully, I don't know. But I do love the sound of these words as they roll off the tongue. YUPP!

BIG THANKS to everyone who liked, commented, and helped make this verse the Poem of the day (on 05/18/18). I really appreciate it! You can listen to me read this poem live on SoundCloud. Just follow the link and have an awesome day!

https://soundcloud.com/user-433755196/her-favorite-song-1

#her #favorite #song #verse #rhyme #poem #poems #poet #rain #universe

May 2018 n0r

"Write happy"

May 2018 n0r

c

"Write happy"

The other day I showed my mom my poems
"Why do you always write sad poems? Write happy." She says
I just nodded, but I couldn't tell her my code of secrecy.
I write so I can let all the pain go
The pain of yesterday
and the reason that was was that I didn't have anybody when I moved
Everybody was occupied
And on my first day of school, I ruined everything
my words were spoken in clumps
and my pen was my only companion
So I wrote
wrote like the ink was my blood and paper my skin
and poetry accepted my request of being a friend
now my poems act as a mentor and a tutor
I can't give up writing sad poems
because if I do,
I'll lose yesterday

— The End —