And We Write

Everything I Never Told You

Poetry is all about perception.
It’s what we perceive, not what
we see.

It’s all in the rhythm.
The arrangement of the poetic
notes.

It’s about loosening those
syllables until they roll off our pens
in a dance of self.

We release our whimper and watch
it turn into a roar on paper

We write for preservation.
We write to empty the emptiness.
We write like we eat, to live

We spend our nights out on a limb so we can fall into the melody of our craft

Our souls writing on. Finding salvation in verse

-Tosha Michelle

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this one is for you

the grey room

i have written about you
but you’re vain enough
to think you’re my only subject.

i scratched our lives into
condensed lines
once, twice, a few times
tried to make sense of my hurt
the betrayal, the excuses and lies
yet you think each word is about you.

i stack my regrets
and color them in prose,
detail my meaningless existence
and wrestle with my demons,
drag my secrets across the page
turn my life into poems
and you think this is all about you.

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A Heavy Cross To Bear – A Poem By Walt Page, The Tennessee Poet

Do No Miss this raw and powerful piece by Walt!!!

Walt's Writings

Chronic Pain is a heavy cross to bear
It shows no mercy, no compassion
It doesn’t know if you are young or old
Nor does it care
It grabs you in its tight grip
And will not let you go
The days are long
The nights are longer
Sleep is a sporadic thing
Coming in starts and stops
Restless legs always twitching
Like some bothersome constant itching
There are no answers
No instant cures
So we suffer in silence
At the mercy of the pharmaceutical companies
Chronic pain is a heavy cross to bear

~The Tennessee Poet~

©Walt Page 2018 All Rights Reserved

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Doors and windows

Jane Dougherty Writes

A cleave poem for the OctPoWriMo prompt, openings

When a door closes            a window opens

onto a dream                       wide as the world

night falls dark                   sky full of stars

hope trickles                        like grains of sand

through the gaps                 a multitude

between the certitudes      of tomorrows

and settles fathoms deep   where pearls shine

out of reach                           so much wealth

on a forgotten seabed         lighting up the gloom.

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