Poets in Motion
We’re celebrating National Poetry Month with our first poetry contest. Submit your most artistic, emotional, or hilarious original poetry inspired by movement—whatever that means to you. Use #VocalNPM to enter.
Stranger to My Skin (Pt. 3)
Locked up without a cause or reason for, I found myself staring out a window. It was a desolate tree and I love that tree. The walls were as white as eggshells and the floor was tiled. Day one I was confused, I believed I was in the right place at the right time but I was wrong. I'm surrounded by strangers both On My Level and above me. The blue scrub wearing strangers held keys to understandings that were beyond my own. I was put in place yet, I was out of place.
Brent HorlingPublished 5 years ago in PoetsStranger to My Skin (Pt. 2)
Steadfast in pace while moving. Picking up speed quickly as to blur when seen; her body sings songs sorrow as her soul was forced to this burning in a flesh like hell. Knowing she could be a closer version to what's reflected within if money wasn't an option and she had the desire for the surgery. She had been born into a body of opposite settings; she doesn't have any plans of getting her faulty body changed for she believes this is a lesson to gain from, rather than a curse of suffering. The growth in the depths of her patience is one of the many things that has been earned from this torture bestowed upon her.
Brent HorlingPublished 5 years ago in PoetsStranger to My Skin (Pt. 1)
Break free from this overrated syndrome The remedy I've been is not the remedy I need Broken down internally from a past life's karma
Brent HorlingPublished 5 years ago in PoetsA Brewer's Craft
Behind the wooden bar and brass colored taps, you can find a bold and a passionate fellow, who knows quite a bit about this fascinating craft.
Colleen SilkPublished 5 years ago in PoetsAddicted to Your Morphine
I've been noticing you for a long, long time, but I chose this day to finally speak, cause for so long I've prayed and hoped
Lamorris JayPublished 5 years ago in PoetsInvisible Movement
I took a plunge into the deep end where the cyclical patterns and trauma swim steadily in the dark. No, I didn’t have a flashlight.
Neha SharmaPublished 5 years ago in PoetsThe Unisong
So what would sound the sweetest song? Would hearts shiver to its timber? ... Can it be found music profound that could temper
Benoit Magician Poet Word-casterPublished 5 years ago in PoetsDepression
Depression is being colorblind and being told everyday about all of the beautiful colors in the world. It’s seeing the world through fogged up glass.
Allure
I can feel the resentment pulsing off you, bitter for the passion I could not be. I used you. While you were seeking deeply within me.
The Voyager’s Spark
Down, down, down into the darkness of the ocean. Let it take you, let it, for only a moment, control you. The ocean is big beyond belief, let it swallow you,
The Marathon Continues
Heard we lost another one of our brothers And I couldn’t sleep How could this be? We all know our time is coming Just like the others who came before
Leticia CortesPublished 5 years ago in PoetsDance Til the End of My Life
Sitting still in the meditation haze Enjoying the calm state of silence Feeling my surroundings with surprise Establishing a new aura of confidence
Theodore JonesPublished 5 years ago in Poets