Sonnet
Is the beauty of realism a facet of truth or the prescribed norm of society?
Is the beauty of realism a facet of truth or the prescribed norm of society? The beauty of the strides reckons itself like the clock work's step
Hridya SharmaPublished about 17 hours ago in PoetsSubmarine
Everyone is so worried about keeping their boat afloat In hopes life will keep them off the ropes But I’m just a slick and lean submarine
Atomic HistorianPublished about 22 hours ago in PoetsSavage
Just a savage Trying to live average But these scavengers are ravenous
Atomic HistorianPublished about 22 hours ago in PoetsSincerity
True sincerity is the scariest thing to hear It hurts to have others truly know our pain To know someone that has stood in the same rain
Atomic HistorianPublished about 22 hours ago in PoetsPoemosaurus Rex
Perchance I am still the last dinosaur On the surface of your bedroom's ceiling Enveloped in mystery evermore Meandering with this ancient feeling.
Patrick M. OhanaPublished a day ago in PoetsAn Ode to a great leader
My commander lies on a bed of roses, His pulse denied, his body turned to ashes, An eulogy I have prepared, but engulfed by sadness,
Ricky LahiriPublished a day ago in PoetsIsrael-Palestine War
They have bombs in Israel Which they throw from the skies Poor old Palestinians subhuman Let them all die. And they said the Palestinians are cruel
Ricky LahiriPublished a day ago in PoetsDr. Dinosaur
I am a dusty fossil, dry and old My lectures include no bright, flashing slides When the words of the text are ductile gold
D. J. ReddallPublished a day ago in PoetsStegosaur Sonnet
Shall I compare thee to a stegosaur, pray? Thou art more spiky and more ungulate. Rough hands do take the darling spuds away,
Raymond G. TaylorPublished a day ago in PoetsHow Much Of Human Life Is Lost In Waiting?
Introduction It was a line I heard and I thought how much of our time is lost in waiting. Actually, while I am waiting I find things to do but there are times when that is not an option.
Mike Singleton - MikeydredPublished a day ago in PoetsCurrents
I cannot help but feel us drift apart As if the waves are taking you to sea But currents keep me here eternally While waves are crashing coldly on my heart.
Holly NacePublished 2 days ago in PoetsThe Shadows of Whispering Pines
In the heart of the ancient forest, where the shadows whispered secrets and the pines murmured tales of old, lay the enigmatic Whispering Pines—a realm of mystery and darkness shrouded in the embrace of nature. Its tangled undergrowth and looming trees bore witness to centuries of forgotten whispers and unseen forces that danced among the shadows.