#Poetic Expression

[laurachouettepoetry]

In this world, you can’t carry your love on your sleeves— that’s why we hold it in the cages of our ribs. - Laura Chouette

[cosmicawg]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐚𝐲

In the gentle glow of the light of day,

She finds herself lost in a poetic sway.

Does it dance on his grin, so pure and bright,

Or on her cheeks, kissed by golden light?

Daylight whispers secrets, oh so sweet,

As she ponders where its rays discreet.

In her laughter's cadence, in smiles so fine,

Or the twinkle in her gaze, like stars align.

But alas, as the daylight fades away,

Taking with it her joy, in sad dismay.

No more shall she compare, no longer yearn,

For she rests in peace, where sunbeams no longer turn.

In the quiet stillness, she finds her repose,

No more to ponder where daylight flows.

For in her memory, forever it shall stay,

The light of day, in its eternal sway.

[niggadiffusion]

"Adaptable"

(a street poem by DiegoJae)

Born where winters bite and summers spit heat—

Detroit streets taught me rhythm before I knew the beat.

East side chaos, west side lessons,

backyards and basements became my confessions.

A pit bull heart with a poet’s tongue,

I bend but don’t break, been doin' this since young.

Got kicked out the nest, flew through broken skies,

every scar I wear got truth behind the lies.

They say “stay in your lane,” but I pave my own,

with a chipped-up crown and a mobile phone.

No lights, no water, still the vision clear—

Majik in the ink, turn pain into premiere.

Adaptable. Ain’t just a word I say,

it’s stitched in my hustle, it’s how I pray.

It’s sleeping on couches, still dressing in pride,

it’s the music I make when the world collides.

It’s loving too hard, then learning the burn,

it’s flipping the script when tables don’t turn.

I’m soul over sound, I’m beat over boast,

I’m the ghost in the groove when you need it most.

So when they ask me what I’ve been through,

I don’t unpack—I paint the view.

With rhythm, with grace, with a whisper or roar,

I’m the storm and the shelter, the slam and the door.

Adaptable.

Like the art I bleed,

like the life I grow

from every damn seed.

[worldwidewandress]

time heals nothing, it just replaces memories

[epicstoriestime]

Euterpe: The Timeless Muse of Music, Poetry, and Freedom

Euterpe, the Muse of Music and Lyric Poetry, stands as a symbol of artistic freedom, her melodies and verses flowing through the air, empowering and liberating. In the ancient world, the Muses were revered as the goddesses who inspired and guided human creativity, and among them, Euterpe stood as the embodiment of music and lyric poetry. Revered for her power to uplift the spirit and fuel…

[jadeannbyrne]

Shel Silverstein: A Tribute to the Poet Who Coaxed Jade Ann Byrne Beyond the Sidewalk

Shel Silverstein: A Tribute to the Poet Who Coaxed Jade Ann Byrne Beyond the Sidewalk Shel Silverstein was a poet, cartoonist, musician, and author who left an indelible mark on the world of children’s literature and beyond. Born in 1930 in Chicago, Silverstein’s work was characterized by its unique blend of humor, whimsy, and a deep understanding of the human experience. He was a master of both…

[ibebizi]

Canta, dulçhe paxarillo, todo gala y todo brío, más galante y más constante que el sol bello a su apuntar, a su apuntar.

Pero advierte qué desvelos da el amor y crudos selos al constante y fino amante sin dexarle descansar, y descansar.

Passo firme my tormento con disgusto y sin contento, todo amargo y sin descargo de quien me quiere matar, quiere matar.

No se aduele quien me mata, siempre fiera y siempre ingrata, su contento es my lamento, su alegría es my penar, es my penar.

[wordsfromherlife]

Here Are Five Prose Poets You Must Follow

Prose poetry is a captivating blend of poetic expression and narrative storytelling, offering an immersive reading experience. Whether you’re an aspiring poet or a lover of literature, following the works of renowned prose poets can provide inspiration, insight, and a deeper appreciation for the craft. In this post, we’ll introduce you to five influential prose poets you should be reading right…

[hsantand]

A Colombian Requiem, part 1 & 2, a long-feature film by Petrus Romanus

In October 2024, visionary creator Hugo Noël Santander Ferreira was inspired by a dialectical dream to bring Medea Bacatá to life. This groundbreaking opera film transcends traditional art, offering a powerful narrative of reconciliation, hope, and spiritual awakening. Set against the backdrop of Bogotá, the story unfolds in a roofless Gothic cathedral, where the starry sky and moonlight create a…

[laurachouettepoetry]

My kind of love is made for the stage, untouchable and unbroken; its fate is to be doomed in repetition, in the most beautiful form of art. - Laura Chouette

[q-posts]

Quiet

There is a quiet that engulfs and captures my thoughts a quiet that fills me with a feeling full of an emotion I can not name it isn’t part of a game, nor do I seek fame But, I do want to lay claim To the ever present energy That courses through my veins is this an insanity or am I sane….. and all the chatter is in vain I ask does it even matter the moment has passed Q Past, Present…

[niggadiffusion]

“Wildest Dream”

by DiegoJae

I'm still young—

and full of flavor.

Fuck me now,

I might fuck you later.

Right now?

I'm about this paper.

Fuck your team—

I'm going major.

Reasons why

you might wanna savor

every second with the caper,

Black and bold, I light the blazer—

brighter than your brightest laser.

Teach you hoes?

You ain't able.

Common sense?

Just a fable.

Brain good, but can’t fill tables.

Sick—

You think it’s cable.

Way I think?

Unstable to you.

Catch these flows—

no label could school.

Open shots,

your God's unfaithful.

Black like this,

you hate my tone.

That's the reason

you hate my songs.

I been hip—

you just got on.

I been dope—

you just got hooked.

Been had bars—

you just got shook.

Don’t you hate

when you agree?

You can’t win

when it’s up against me.

You can’t touch

what you can’t see.

I’m that cold—

come catch a breeze.

Shit you do?

So industry.

Boy, I’m not—

I’m in these streets.

Cooking like

I gotta feed.

I eat you niggas—

currency.

Hustle like a pro,

ain’t no pause for me.

Call me what you want—

I’m better than

your wildest dream.

—

Run the list—

no limits to the travesty.

I get around—

no limits to my artistry.

Keep ‘em guessing,

keep ‘em wondering,

like, "Damn… what kind of mind

be conjuring

this type of thing?"

If you ain't built

for pressure points,

don’t step to me.

Sharp tongue,

cut deep.

Your feelings?

Ain’t no need.

Keep ‘em.

Save that.

Now we proceed.

What you gon’ do?

I’m listening.

What you all about?

Prove it then.

If it’s nothing—

cool, keep moving then.

I don’t play

with sucka-ass niggas.

I'd rather vibe

with realer-ass niggas.

No low-key—

I’m Aquarius.

Storm-walker,

break barriers.

Been time—

I carried this.

Roam free—

my kin be curious.

But watch who you fuck.

Some dangerous.

Mark your life

like venom does.

Put a curse

on your soul,

til you become

what made you cum

in a moment

when love

was no longer

an option.

—

Shit you do?

So industry.

Boy, I’m not—

I’m in these streets.

Cooking like

I gotta feed.

I eat you niggas—

currency.

Hustle like a pro.

Ain’t no stopping me.

Call me what you want—

I’m better than

your wildest dream.

[ryanranney]

The Song of Her Voice

Her words are my ointment bring out her prophecies those secret things are revealed in the song of her lips by day the muse creates her form and echoes in the hallowed chambers into the ears she hears and proclaims from the mouth what soothing sounds a Gospel of joy transfixed possibility hope obsessed into faith Has it been as it always was in that Eden of great beauty? Before symbols and…

[wickedzeevyln]

Randomness

We keep chasing meaning and end up nowhere. Perhaps it’s never about finding it. Perhaps it’s living meaningfully that gives it the definition it deserves. The moments people are handedare always square.Once in a while, they would dab it withcolors without understandingwhat they mean,too abstract in a sense,too muddled to perceive,until they come togetheras a huge muraloften, sadly ever…

[compassionmattersmost]

Poem: Lost on the Wrong Planet

On this strange world, where I seem lost, alone,In realms unknown, I wander, not quite sure.The sky above feels distant, cold as stone,A foreign land, its ways I can’t endure. Each step I take, the ground feels out of place,As if I’ve strayed from where I should belong.In shadows cast, I search for some embrace,Yet find a path that’s fraught and ever long. The voices here speak languages…