Poet Poems
poem is a verb
by Rikske Kessner
Poem Is a Verb
Strike flint to flame, let the lines take flight,
They bite at the dark, they shoulder the light;
No throne for the poem, no chair for its nerve—
It walks till it bleeds, for a poem’s a verb.
......
through the eyes of a stranger
by Rikske Kessner
Through the eyes of a stranger,
I walk the crowded streets,
My thoughts hidden behind
A façade of indifference.
Always writing under breath
Each step the rhythm of a song
I listen for the murmurs,
The stories left half-told,
And with borrowed breath,
......
not to the swift
by Rikske Kessner
They cling to the weight of their quill,
the tactile sensation, grounding them,
yet, the digital tide pulls at their resolve,
urging them to adapt or be left behind.
Nostalgia blooms in the scent of old books,
memories of applause, now distant echoes,
the poet's dilemma, a struggle within,
to honour tradition or embrace the new.
......
Poet and poetry
by Aditi Hayaran
Maybe too complex to be defined by words,
Smiles so bright that hides the misery.
Maybe too deep to be understood,
An open book yet still a mystery.
Maybe the sentence unread by readers,
Always the poet, never the poetry.
-Aditi Hayaran (Larkspur)
the poet
by Sarah A
he is a
poet
verses sprouting
each time
he presses his lips
into my skin
poem is a verb
by Rikske Kessner
Poem Is a Verb
Strike flint to flame, let the lines take flight,
They bite at the dark, they shoulder the light;
No throne for the poem, no chair for its nerve—
It walks till it bleeds, for a poem’s a verb.
......
Dusty Poet
by Ghairo Daniels
DUSTY POET
Dust before donkey doomed
a wicked whirlwind
grains of wisdom wrinkle
sand webs
dust devitalise land
here there everywhere nowhere
in eyes, on kitchen table
parched lips unfed
......
Poet and poetry
by Aditi Hayaran
Maybe too complex to be defined by words,
Smiles so bright that hides the misery.
Maybe too deep to be understood,
An open book yet still a mystery.
Maybe the sentence unread by readers,
Always the poet, never the poetry.
-Aditi Hayaran (Larkspur)
De dichter in mij
by Mario Odekerken
De dichter in mij
schreef woordelijk alles op.
Niet om te verklaren,
maar om te bewaren
wat anders verloren ging
in het geruis van de dag.
Hij ving stilte in zinnen,
adem in komma's,
wanhoop in witregels.
......
sword or pen?
by Rikske Kessner
When a poet takes up arms
their quill is orphaned quick
though the pen is mightier
the sword some bards will pick
however just the cause may be
forsake their weapon true
to lose what makes them free
sad the day when all is through
