Ekphrastic

Moorish
They called us Moorish But in a rush they painted us white So they could stop the fight So we can join their campaign To make the world more right
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
Lethal Luxury
"In a banqueting-room with a reversible ceiling he once buried his guests in violets and other flowers, so that some were actually smothered to death, being unable to crawl out to the top." -- Scriptores Historiae Augustae, “The Life of Elagabalus,” in Historia Augusta
By D. J. Reddall2 years ago in Poets
I wish the scars of the soul could be seen
I wish the scars of the soul could be seen The scars that are inflicted deep within the soul often run deeper than the ones that are visible to the naked eye. Pain in its amorous embrace sets its fangs deeper into the crevices of the acts and syllables recorded in its intangible zest. Our heart knows moments that it tries its best to bury inside the depths of its brevity. There is both beauty and severance in the transitory moments of life. It has the most radiant days and the most desperate of nights. There are moments of light and joy and then there are moments of darkness, of hours of plight that behold and bemoan on us for being pure.
By Hridya Sharma2 years ago in Poets
Whispering Peonies Of Graceful Allure?
She walks with whispering grace, like a peony swaying in the summer breeze, leaving silky pink petals in its wake **
By Daphsam2 years ago in Poets
The Rite of Recollection
“The work of mourning seeks neither to save from death nor deny it, but to save from a ‘worse than death.’”—Jacques Derrida, The Work of Mourning, 2001.
By D. J. Reddall2 years ago in Poets
Inner Mind
Within the depths of my inner mind, A realm of thoughts unconfined. Where dreams dance and fears unwind, A sanctuary of the soul designed.
By Chuks Gad Nwaigwe2 years ago in Poets
Echo
I’m talking to you Telling you things I should be telling myself Lovely things about how great you are That you deserve to be loved
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
The Ninth Day
Eight bright and bowing dawns were just for me This rich, green island was my glad garden No prince or priest or bearded knight could see
By D. J. Reddall2 years ago in Poets
Whispers of the Sea Holly
Whispering fairy wings Brings silent murmurs to the haunting Sea Holly as they waltz under the silver glass moon.
By Daphsam2 years ago in Poets
3/21/24
Take a look I’m hooked on books I like to write poems That flow like rainbows In the drifts Riffs in my mind’s eye Weaving truths with every lie
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
Little Dog
This poem was written in response to the Rattle® Poetry Ekphrastic Challenge for February 2024 and was ultimately not selected. You can find more information here. https://www.rattle.com/ekphrastic/
By Rae Fairchild (MRB)2 years ago in Poets
The Art of Man
This poem was written in response to the Rattle® Poetry Ekphrastic Challenge for February 2024 and was ultimately not selected. You can find more information here. https://www.rattle.com/ekphrastic/
By Rae Fairchild (MRB)2 years ago in Poets