#Poetry Is Not Dead

[troutreznor]

text transcribed under readmore

SMALL DOG SYNDROME 

small dog you’re so funny when you snap small dog you’re so funny when you shake small dog you’re so bad when you bark small dog you never learned the rules

small dog lays flat on the floor  and sighs and whines  while it waits for you to come back from wherever you go  all day small dog doesn’t know if you’re coming home small dog hides under the bed to puke does it quiet eats its shame before you ever smell it  small dog’s bark is worse than its bite  small dog you are so funny when you bite  small dog it’s so funny when you’re mad  so by all means pick it up throw it around  lock it in a cage while you laugh small dog you are so funny when you cry

small dog can’t remember being a wolf  can’t remember being big  howling in harpstring harmony  like a plucked and quivering note in a catacomb  sleeping in a warm pile of bodies in a dry place that smells like family  the taste of fresh hot blood and wet bone iron fire honey salt 

small dog run free beneath the moon in your dreams

small dog is so happy you’re home!! small dog loves you!!!

JMGD

[darkpoetrynprose]

"But how could you live and have no story to tell?"

– Fyodor Dostoevsky, White Nights

[poemsforthesehours]

From Lucille Clifton's book, How to Carry Water. (BOA editions, 2021).

[27paperlilies]

Chased into safety

A rabbit runs and skirts along the treeline, it's quick, it's nimble and doesn't waste time.

A rabbit sits with ears twitching and heart racing, and suddenly there begins the dreaded chasing.

Danger followed ,nipping at their heels but life was forward through dense and muddy fields.

the chase was long and the odds where slim, rabbit was sure they'd almost lost a limb.

But the Field was now above and so where the dangers, there would be no more encounters with bloodthirsty strangers.

The safety was their home, a warm and cozy hole, dug up in a frenzy ,but now holds every memory, of quiet disbelief, they live another day and so they sink down in absolute relief.

the rabbit was tired, but not the awful kind, they where the kind of tired you're always bound to find, when danger is behind.

There are no fears from long ago, instead they dream of flower fields empty of any foe.

[cgcpoems]

from The Surrender Theory by Caitlin Conlon

[enby-panick]

i've never felt butterflies in my stomach. only hurricanes in my heart and battle-cries in my soul

— they wage and cry out for your love

[thepoeticshawty]

we are always afraid to lose someone we love, but why are we willing to lose ourselves in loving someone else?

thepoeticshawty

[soulinkpoetry]

“You are close to me, I can feel you without you touching me, for your breath reaches me, bringing with it the freshness of your blue... of your salt... of your life.” @esuemmanuel

.

.

[shirleysiaton]

You matter.

[ambicauppalsblog]

The sky is high, You know.

The dreams Float in there.

There are mountains to rise,

They say,

Before you even dare.

Don’t be afraid of the heights.

You can take them on.

Step by step,

Little by little,

You embrace each

Dream that’s born.

~ Ambica Uppal

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[thepixabaypoet]

if only my heart were big enough to hold you maybe you would stay

Image by xiSerge (https://buff.ly/3Arnplt) from Pixabay

[darkpoetrynprose]

“March is a month of storms and lust. Spring looks on, like a thought between two people, between a long winter and a long summer.”

- Mahmoud Darwish , An excerpt from “Like a Hand Tattoo from an Ode by an Ancient Arab Poet” , from his poetry book : Almond Blossoms and Beyond  

[pascal-bernheim]

📷 COLINE

[27paperlilies]

I'm not afraid anymore.

Is what I feel right now, I don't feel completely ready but I'm not afraid to try.

I used to sit and watch my eyes cry and wonder how and why, but those days have flown on by. I bid the fear and pain goodbye.

My body hasn't caught on yet, it tenses in fright, stomach achy and hands shaky. But I know the peace will seep in soon, to my very bones and completely warm me through.

And with that I bid my fear adieu, I won't be missing you.

[cgcpoems]

What I thought was forever was just last year. My body has attempted every rebellion at least twice. Like ice in a snowstorm, the future has solidified on the doorknobs. It asks me for the key. There's no way I'm making it out of here alive.

"I Can Tell It's Aquarius Season Because My Knuckles Are Splitting," by Caitlin Conlon

[aeroma-soyam]

I lacked any hue of blue

So I painted the ocean, red.

With my blood, through my fingers

from my organs.

"Is this to your liking?" I ask

"Blue would have been better" they respond

- Soyam