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Nishu Mathur Mar 2022
Some days are good
Or I think they really are
I soak up the sun
And reach for the stars
Some days are bad
I suppose they really are
The sun seems too hot
And the stars — too far.
Ronney Mar 2022
Push and Pull.
Acting the fool.
Sick and tired.
Done with the bull...

Its time to be honest.
Haven't done that in the longest...
Its one of many, A failed promise.

We each had our role.
Both digging into that hole.
These things, chip away the mind and soul.

Gentleness sometimes gives way to resolve.

Kind words are a pleasure.
Given in truth an absolute treasure.
Although we don't always have it altogether.
Somehow we manage to storm the weather.
we each have our story and play dual roles. Everything is a matter of perspective. We are both antagonist and protagonist. That what i wanted to capture in this. Haven't completely cracked it but this is my best for now. Hope you enjoyed :)
John McCafferty Feb 2022
Learning the lessons that happened before
as they come round again in various forms.
Same faces and places setting up themes, we don't always see the patterns between.
Trends tend to reset and test us again, emotions take hold but not as our friend.
Sunk in a cycle of continuous loops, failing to think they may hold just one truth.

Decisions of a short-term visionary, skewed and responsive to his or her needs. This irreverent mist often follows a dip, perspective changes a clouded verdict.
Crystal clarity can skip our reality
as permissions transition beyond each dream,
when we look to our heroes who sit at the peak.
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
Elizabeth Kelly Jan 2022
She wrote poems about sunflowers
and about the colors of each of the different flavors in her afternoon tea.

She wrote about the foot-worn path in the concrete floor of the history museum;
About a stranger’s dog who licked her hand at the park.

And to her future child,
And to the boundlessness of love she knew but could not fathom that existed in a forever-expanding space inside her,
And about that brave and resilient seed shared by all of science and art,
the interconnectedness of all things.

In radical joyful tones,
she documented the goodnesses of her Ordinary on scraps of paper and deposited them into a small chest,
her Memory Bank.

The people pointed at the lonely beergazer
The outraged wunderkind
The housebound widower
Each lost in the past or in the future.
Ah, misery.
The father of poetry.
They would shake their heads,
A shame, they would say.

Meanwhile, on the other side of town or maybe the world,
the mother of poetry, undeterred,
sat in her garden
singing to the souls of the vegetables.
Persephone Dec 2021
While other girls were dreaming about Prince Charming saving the day
I was praying for the Villain to take me away
old willow Dec 2021
The world is but a single step,
A hundred step a minute;
People live with miseries.
Heaven is as clear as history;
Therefore, I use heaven as a mirror.
To portrait those that suffer,
Those who worries,
And those who bear so sorrow,
How many can live so carefree?
Your heart are troubled;
Yet my heart says otherwise.
In the end, where you find sorrow;
I find happiness.
Life is all about perspective;
Those who live suffer;
Those who suffer will live;
Life is suffering.
Zack Ripley Nov 2021
The beautiful, albeit sometimes annoying
part about people, is that there are so many different perspectives. So, while it may be true that it seems like everything's
been said or done, don't let that discourage you if you have something you want to say. Because it hasn't been said or done by you
Rick Warr Nov 2021
while our massive
magnificent blue orb
turns in slow grace
and basks in the sun
i live my days
in self absorbed ways

but now and then
… like now
i step out into space
and look down on
my insignificance

i live my life down there
basking in the sunshine
of your warm regard
and the odd smile
from a well-meaning stranger
loving the beauty i see

it’s all that i’ve got
and is mostly enough
for my brief ride
on this magnificent
massive blue orb
out of body reflection
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