Write poetry. Get feedback. Discover poets.

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...

Happiness There are a few special moments in life, When the heart is intoxicated with elation and ebullience, When a blissful state of mind permeates through every cell in the body, When the soul is exhilarated, expressing friendliness and tenderness, When love radiates an aura of exceptional beauty and magical grace, And when the euphoria of a...

The dusty jacket, tattered, did belie Within held pearls bespeaking truth To bring within perfect symmetry The recipe I needed in my youth So distracted I walked through the falling library Of shelves begging with every groan To collect pages torn falling unwary Those voices would fade to the unknown About flew ravens taunting with...

do you feel it? as you walk slowly through the dark, in this fallen neglected labyrinth of the mind, where mold and filth fester upon crumbling walls, and rainwater seeps and falls like tears of the damned, this once great building now diseased and decaying, a parody of the minds once entombed within, can you hear the echoes of the screams? from...

What do you do? With the thoughts, The feelings How do you begin to understand how to help? Someone you love, dissolving in their own sorrow Because the unthinkable has become real How do you keep them afloat, keep the world from crushing them? How did Atlas do it? Their pain is mine, their hurt my own I adopted it when I chose to love them But...

butterflies and moths a myriad coloured wings all defined by names micro lepido red or yellow, black or white form colour defences eyes that do not see variable protection perfect symmetry distinctive markings amongst patterns unnumbered in that small scaled world ​​ now an admiral with very bright uniform he commands no ships​ colourful...

The old lane cutting through the woods to the end of the road was a midnight high school highway, kids following the call of youth under shadows thrown down by conspiring elms and oaks, limbs seemingly beckoning to a place of their dreams, the boys next day smiling and bragging, thinking they were now men, the girls hoping they weren’t carrying...