Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Pluto May 8
Quit yelling at your kids and expect them to sleep well
Quit yelling at your kids in the morning right after they wake up, before school and expect them to have a good day
You set the tone for your children
You set the tone for YOUR voice that they will always remember in their heads
You become their inner voice
Don't be their inner critic
Let's raise kids who don't need therapy to heal from their childhoods
Speak Life,
Speak Love,
Speak Bravery,
Speak Kindness,
Speak Hope,
Speak wisdom and,
Speak Truth
Most of all listen to your children. Be their safety net. Be their Home

-Michelle Sorenson, M. ED
Pagan Paul Feb 27
I open my eyes.
The darkness is blackness.
The stillness is complete.
The silence is deafening.
I breathe in once
and the air is so warm.
The exhalation slow.
Why do I feel dizzy?
I move my limbs.
Realisation bites,
it is then that I scream.
A scream nobody will hear.

if i could just
find the trick
to remembering
that i was right
               all along
for a change
Francis Nov 2023
Why is it,
That something so necessary,
Seems so dreadful and bittersweet?

Why am I so sad,
Over moving on from,
Something that made me so sad?

Why do leaves fall of the trees?
Why do hairs fade to grey?
Why do things fail to remain consistent?

Why can’t I live forever?
Why can’t I seem to want to?
Why can’t this fear of change make sense?

A dwarf sucker of emotional algae,
These bits of change that we face,
In life,
Are merely a placeholder for temporary discomfort.
I have more to say on this topic
Francis Oct 2023
You can explain trigonometry to a zebra,
You can blab till blue in the cheeks,
But that doesn’t at all determine,
Whether a zebra will learn trigonometry.

A piece of irony:
We expect Zebras to be black and white,
Because their appearance says so,
But what about their feelings,
Who they are as Zebras?

Luscious, rare, and totally majestic,
But most of all,
Slept on…
Like most beautiful things, a pity indeed,
But that’s nature.

You find yourself mesmerized by them,
Yet you never truly grasp their beauty.
I ponder one small thought:
What do we really know about zebras?

We know what we are told,
We know what we see,
We know what we read,
But somehow,
These zebras,
They just… unapologetically exist,
In ways that never remain consistent.

Lions hunt zebras,
and rip them a part,
Because lions assume that these zebras,
Are merely the inferior species,
Ready to be preyed upon,
Simply because they’re less dominant,
In a world of carnivorous predators.
Poor little Zebras
Francis Oct 2023
Someone told me,
To water my own grass,
But what they neglected to mention,
Is that my grass is crass.

This is due to my unfortunate past,
Every minute spent kissing ***,
To be walked on and trampled by,
Boots and heels of brass.

So no, I will most certainly not,
Water my own grass,
The thoughts and evaluations,
Of the judgment I pass,
Is necessary and voluntary,
In a sea of largemouth bass.
Another poem about judgment of character since I’m always in defense.
Francis Oct 2023
The third eye,
Is a bird’s eye,
View on a hurt guy,
Within a dirt life.

Since first flight,
Cut with a big knife,
By Dad and his wife,
Who gave me life.

What hurt Dad?
Who hurt Dad’s wife?
So much strife,
In this foul scented life.

Bitterness so rife,
In these brown eyes,
Since all that I,
Know is to,
Trust that third eye.
I tell myself to stop psychoanalyzing people for my own sanity but sometimes I think my intuition comes from experience and it all comes naturally.
Kuvar Jun 2023
my emotions dread for peace
this space is so tight
I seem lifeless

why prickly numb and burning
are my toes writing a story
spare me a niddle to escape

For my fears are dead
Today I question life
Now I got my answer

Live today
Live today
Live today

(c) Olu Daniels -KUVAR
I felt so depressed but I found hope again, today , and tomorrow and forever. TO LIVE
Carlo C Gomez May 2023
hand cranked
re-imagined 35mm slides
Rough Trade posters
on the wall
Pepsi and premade sandwiches
on the counter

aperture: wide open
he sees her often at the multiplex
there she flirts
from the third row; second seat
sheer blouse
hands in elliptical motion
pointing toward
silk chiffon shells
the invite in a tilt of her mouth
lip; gloss
eyes hidden from the light

a prayer before intermission
celluloid reliquary
reveals God's plans
lest her trifling with him
cause a miss in changeover
enraging his self-regarded audience
the walk back to his car
one long montage of her lacing up
Next page