Write poetry. Get feedback. Discover poets.

You may not be able to see me, but that does not mean I am no longer here. You may not be able to touch me, but that does not mean I am gone forever. The physical world may know me to be dead, but I am, in truth, very much alive – more alive, in fact, than I have ever been, In ways that you do not understand. You think that I am unaware of how...

“After all we’ve been through, It can’t be over, you must keep going” One said as a partner grew Colder, with a contented smile of knowing He grabbed a hand and said “It’s okay for the journey to be over, That’s the best part, because That’s when you can start a new one, Rest a moment, then see what’s next” A tear fell, and words quivered “I...

They gnaw at the edges of me, little sharp-toothed things with hollow eyes, crawling from the cracks in my skull to lap at the marrow of my thoughts. I used to fight them. I used to starve them. But hunger makes them cruel. So now I lay the table. Silver plates of regret, goblets brimming with old wounds, a banquet of memories too raw...

They call her a voice of brown pain, But we’ve heard louder cries, from fields soaked in sacrifice, from mothers who buried sons, not metaphors. They sold us short, for lowercase lines and over-capitalized lies— as if formatting could mask the absence of truth. She speaks of lands she never walked, names wounds she never bore, calls for borders...

Why do I stand here, screaming? Into this stormy weather. Do I want to be heard, or am I to afraid? To get noticed… Why does it have to be? All or Nothing! I have you, I am happy. No one gets me, the world falls apart. Trying, but not hard enough Doing it all at once, no focus Try to focus, nothing gets done Screaming! So loud, but nothing. Fall...

the town had just come into view as the western sky turned a brilliant blue he pulled up alongside a prickly pear lit up a stogie and rested his mare how long will this beauty last he'd wonder the calm was hushed by distant thunder no time to dawdle as the blue went gray it's rollin' in fast best be on our way the echoes roll in the western...

I remember your perfume and how its fragrance and your essence made me giddy, like fine champagne from a crystal flute, sparkling, how they made me act the fool and not care as long as I could see you, touch you, inhale you, feel you open yourself to me, but time passed, the chill crept in, and you and my love are shells of themselves since you...