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Poetry
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Thin skin
It is
when we allow
the broken voices
that whisper
inside our head
to grow twisted roots
under our thin skin
of common sense
that slowly strangles
our sense of pride
of being
what we try to hide
forever chained
behind a mask
where our tears reflect
our childrens...
9
Downtown
Walk downtown
Immerse yourself in the history
Gothic architecture
Museums
Nostalgic you mind travels back in time.
Stand downtown
Among the suceessful
Businessmen in suits
Business women dressed for success
Proud to be among the people that shape the city.
Sit downtown
With the jobless,...
9
BEHIND Closed Doors
There was a time when a man like him didn’t speak to a women like her, but I guess you could compare it...
9
Off to sleep
Kiss me on my cheek, and turn my light out, saying goodbye before closing the door. I'll hug my teddy bear, and count a hundred sheep, closing my eyes before drifting off to...
9
Brio Tracks
"Brio Tracks" was inspired by the many hours and days I would spend on my living room floor playing with my Brio trains. It was one of the first times I could create my...
Little trains that go Were the Brio lines Connected one by one they climb Until the loop has broken passage Across the bridge and through prairies Trains grew stronger Magnets pieced into one Claiming...
9
Empty Kettles
In this case, a rather long-winded debate on over a facebook post that ended with the other party basically saying "La-la, I can't hear you," reminded me of an axiom I once heard: "Empty...
You do not see shades between The black lines of your world It's either right Or it's a sin
Empty kettles Make the most noise I've heard said This is you
You shout your rules You...
9
Inside A Steel Box
Inside a steel box
walls, moving
towards their victim
me.
There's no escape
from the horror, locked up
inside,
enclosed,
take a breath,
give up.
9
The Book is Being Written
And so amidst our burning, churning sun Lay the stories unfurling of our learning selves: Whether we bemoan the weather and its turning course Or relinquish trepidation to the skies. Said stories are blurred with burdened minds; Afflicted...
8
Thoughts of Then
Long past our seasons. I drift along with the river. Darkness, my companion. Cruel is Autumn. Its winds open memory. Tear open stitches to expose old wounds. Not by purpose. Yet, by natural intent. What were we then? All of eighteen. You of tainted...
8
Read new poems from up and coming amateur poets
Amateur poets can add their work to our poetry chart including the poem, images which represent what the poem is about and even videos of the poem being delivered as intended. We have all the fresh new talent from the poetry world and we promote The Talent Bank to publishers and magazines who may just get in touch to publish some of your poetry.