#poemoftheday — Public Fediverse posts
Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #poemoftheday, aggregated by home.social.
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INCERTIDUMBRE
Nunca se aprende a naufragar
cuando se camina
con fuego en las pupilas.Arden los párpados
hasta fundirse,
buscando
unas nubes tristes
que anuncian un llanto
que se pierde en el horizonte.¿Puede el mar ser solo un anhelo?
Quizá solo haya que arder
hasta notar la lluvia.Tal vez necesite una sonrisa,
—esa sonrisa—#poem
#poemoftheday
#incertidumbre
#sonrisa
#literature
#versos -
INCERTIDUMBRE
Nunca se aprende a naufragar
cuando se camina
con fuego en las pupilas.Arden los párpados
hasta fundirse,
buscando
unas nubes tristes
que anuncian un llanto
que se pierde en el horizonte.¿Puede el mar ser solo un anhelo?
Quizá solo haya que arder
hasta notar la lluvia.Tal vez necesite una sonrisa,
—esa sonrisa—#poem
#poemoftheday
#incertidumbre
#sonrisa
#literature
#versos -
INCERTIDUMBRE
Nunca se aprende a naufragar
cuando se camina
con fuego en las pupilas.Arden los párpados
hasta fundirse,
buscando
unas nubes tristes
que anuncian un llanto
que se pierde en el horizonte.¿Puede el mar ser solo un anhelo?
Quizá solo haya que arder
hasta notar la lluvia.Tal vez necesite una sonrisa,
—esa sonrisa—#poem
#poemoftheday
#incertidumbre
#sonrisa
#literature
#versos -
INCERTIDUMBRE
Nunca se aprende a naufragar
cuando se camina
con fuego en las pupilas.Arden los párpados
hasta fundirse,
buscando
unas nubes tristes
que anuncian un llanto
que se pierde en el horizonte.¿Puede el mar ser solo un anhelo?
Quizá solo haya que arder
hasta notar la lluvia.Tal vez necesite una sonrisa,
—esa sonrisa—#poem
#poemoftheday
#incertidumbre
#sonrisa
#literature
#versos -
INCERTIDUMBRE
Nunca se aprende a naufragar
cuando se camina
con fuego en las pupilas.Arden los párpados
hasta fundirse,
buscando
unas nubes tristes
que anuncian un llanto
que se pierde en el horizonte.¿Puede el mar ser solo un anhelo?
Quizá solo haya que arder
hasta notar la lluvia.Tal vez necesite una sonrisa,
—esa sonrisa—#poem
#poemoftheday
#incertidumbre
#sonrisa
#literature
#versos -
Good morning, lovely people.
The sun shines down
Green turns to brown
The ice cream splatters
Heat record shatters.I long for some frost
In mists to be lost
When fires warm the face
An altogether slower pace.But another day of pain
How long I wish for rain
This weather is over rated
For this I'll be berated. -
Good morning, lovely people.
The sun shines down
Green turns to brown
The ice cream splatters
Heat record shatters.I long for some frost
In mists to be lost
When fires warm the face
An altogether slower pace.But another day of pain
How long I wish for rain
This weather is over rated
For this I'll be berated. -
Good morning, lovely people.
The sun shines down
Green turns to brown
The ice cream splatters
Heat record shatters.I long for some frost
In mists to be lost
When fires warm the face
An altogether slower pace.But another day of pain
How long I wish for rain
This weather is over rated
For this I'll be berated. -
Good morning, lovely people.
The sun shines down
Green turns to brown
The ice cream splatters
Heat record shatters.I long for some frost
In mists to be lost
When fires warm the face
An altogether slower pace.But another day of pain
How long I wish for rain
This weather is over rated
For this I'll be berated. -
Good morning, lovely people.
The sun shines down
Green turns to brown
The ice cream splatters
Heat record shatters.I long for some frost
In mists to be lost
When fires warm the face
An altogether slower pace.But another day of pain
How long I wish for rain
This weather is over rated
For this I'll be berated. -
VUELA EL RECUERDO
Pasear entre los pensamientos
para agrietar los recuerdos.Como vuela la mariposa
entre las briznas
en busca del azahar.#poesia
#escrituracreativa
#poetrycommunity
#viaje
#poemoftheday
#vuelo -
VUELA EL RECUERDO
Pasear entre los pensamientos
para agrietar los recuerdos.Como vuela la mariposa
entre las briznas
en busca del azahar.#poesia
#escrituracreativa
#poetrycommunity
#viaje
#poemoftheday
#vuelo -
VUELA EL RECUERDO
Pasear entre los pensamientos
para agrietar los recuerdos.Como vuela la mariposa
entre las briznas
en busca del azahar.#poesia
#escrituracreativa
#poetrycommunity
#viaje
#poemoftheday
#vuelo -
VUELA EL RECUERDO
Pasear entre los pensamientos
para agrietar los recuerdos.Como vuela la mariposa
entre las briznas
en busca del azahar.#poesia
#escrituracreativa
#poetrycommunity
#viaje
#poemoftheday
#vuelo -
VUELA EL RECUERDO
Pasear entre los pensamientos
para agrietar los recuerdos.Como vuela la mariposa
entre las briznas
en busca del azahar.#poesia
#escrituracreativa
#poetrycommunity
#viaje
#poemoftheday
#vuelo -
DONDE NO VUELVEN LAS GOLONDRINAS
No habrá cantos al amanecer,
y el alba llorará
la canción que ya no trae el viento.No crujirán las ramas
esperando la pisada
perdida bajo la tierra.No volverán
las sombras de las golondrinas
buscando el calor de un nido.No recordarán nada:
muere el recuerdo entre botellas.No recordarán...
Solo silencio.
#poetry
#poesiacontemporanea
#escrituracreativa
#poemoftheday -
THE PINK PANTHER GOES SHOPPING #shopping #lists #pinkpanther #cartoon #POEMS #poetrycommunity #poetry #funny #jokes #poet #poem #poemoftheday
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The Warehouse Window
For my sunlight,
its glass cut through a concrete wall
the edges crumbled and rocky,
like an unfinished birthday cake.
No place for symmetry or neatness
when testing and receiving
networking equipment with a candelabra of cords.
The whir of fans, hard drives,
circuit boards, modules, and power supplies
are their own orchestra.I’m their repeating crowd for this ensemble
I have memorized all their
performances, crescendos, movements,
choruses, and solos.
The yoked fluorescent lights,
stallion forklift, or gluttonous cardboard compactor
endlessly feasting in the corner
by the loading dock where
an occasional wasp wanders inside this mirage
to die in a papery sleep.That sunshine above’s the same
as in my son’s elementary school window
sloping through the courtyard where ferns
and flowerpots hide a dry duck nest.
The kids named her Simone.
She has three eggs
an opaque olive, pearl, and coral.
They’re blurbs of shell and membrane.
They wanted to name them too,
but those dreams weren’t real yet.
You have to know they’ll live.I knew my classroom wall
beside our courtyard door
where we pasted, crinkled, and scribbled
dinosaurs, sloths, and squids
against paper sorceries of
marine life, prehistoric countrysides,
and endless amazon jungles.
We had our own momma duck too,
her name long empty amongst almost everything
I remembered, wondered,
and dreamedin fourth grade.
#author #books #creativeWriting #emotionalWriting #literature #originalWriting #patrickWMarsh #poem #poemOfTheDay #poems #poet #poetsOnWordpress #spokenWord #writing
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The Warehouse Window
For my sunlight,
its glass cut through a concrete wall
the edges crumbled and rocky,
like an unfinished birthday cake.
No place for symmetry or neatness
when testing and receiving
networking equipment with a candelabra of cords.
The whir of fans, hard drives,
circuit boards, modules, and power supplies
are their own orchestra.I’m their repeating crowd for this ensemble
I have memorized all their
performances, crescendos, movements,
choruses, and solos.
The yoked fluorescent lights,
stallion forklift, or gluttonous cardboard compactor
endlessly feasting in the corner
by the loading dock where
an occasional wasp wanders inside this mirage
to die in a papery sleep.That sunshine above’s the same
as in my son’s elementary school window
sloping through the courtyard where ferns
and flowerpots hide a dry duck nest.
The kids named her Simone.
She has three eggs
an opaque olive, pearl, and coral.
They’re blurbs of shell and membrane.
They wanted to name them too,
but those dreams weren’t real yet.
You have to know they’ll live.I knew my classroom wall
beside our courtyard door
where we pasted, crinkled, and scribbled
dinosaurs, sloths, and squids
against paper sorceries of
marine life, prehistoric countrysides,
and endless amazon jungles.
We had our own momma duck too,
her name long empty amongst almost everything
I remembered, wondered,
and dreamedin fourth grade.
#author #books #creativeWriting #emotionalWriting #literature #originalWriting #patrickWMarsh #poem #poemOfTheDay #poems #poet #poetsOnWordpress #spokenWord #writing
-
The Warehouse Window
For my sunlight,
its glass cut through a concrete wall
the edges crumbled and rocky,
like an unfinished birthday cake.
No place for symmetry or neatness
when testing and receiving
networking equipment with a candelabra of cords.
The whir of fans, hard drives,
circuit boards, modules, and power supplies
are their own orchestra.I’m their repeating crowd for this ensemble
I have memorized all their
performances, crescendos, movements,
choruses, and solos.
The yoked fluorescent lights,
stallion forklift, or gluttonous cardboard compactor
endlessly feasting in the corner
by the loading dock where
an occasional wasp wanders inside this mirage
to die in a papery sleep.That sunshine above’s the same
as in my son’s elementary school window
sloping through the courtyard where ferns
and flowerpots hide a dry duck nest.
The kids named her Simone.
She has three eggs
an opaque olive, pearl, and coral.
They’re blurbs of shell and membrane.
They wanted to name them too,
but those dreams weren’t real yet.
You have to know they’ll live.I knew my classroom wall
beside our courtyard door
where we pasted, crinkled, and scribbled
dinosaurs, sloths, and squids
against paper sorceries of
marine life, prehistoric countrysides,
and endless amazon jungles.
We had our own momma duck too,
her name long empty amongst almost everything
I remembered, wondered,
and dreamedin fourth grade.
#author #books #creativeWriting #emotionalWriting #literature #originalWriting #patrickWMarsh #poem #poemOfTheDay #poems #poet #poetsOnWordpress #spokenWord #writing
-
The Warehouse Window
For my sunlight,
its glass cut through a concrete wall
the edges crumbled and rocky,
like an unfinished birthday cake.
No place for symmetry or neatness
when testing and receiving
networking equipment with a candelabra of cords.
The whir of fans, hard drives,
circuit boards, modules, and power supplies
are their own orchestra.I’m their repeating crowd for this ensemble
I have memorized all their
performances, crescendos, movements,
choruses, and solos.
The yoked fluorescent lights,
stallion forklift, or gluttonous cardboard compactor
endlessly feasting in the corner
by the loading dock where
an occasional wasp wanders inside this mirage
to die in a papery sleep.That sunshine above’s the same
as in my son’s elementary school window
sloping through the courtyard where ferns
and flowerpots hide a dry duck nest.
The kids named her Simone.
She has three eggs
an opaque olive, pearl, and coral.
They’re blurbs of shell and membrane.
They wanted to name them too,
but those dreams weren’t real yet.
You have to know they’ll live.I knew my classroom wall
beside our courtyard door
where we pasted, crinkled, and scribbled
dinosaurs, sloths, and squids
against paper sorceries of
marine life, prehistoric countrysides,
and endless amazon jungles.
We had our own momma duck too,
her name long empty amongst almost everything
I remembered, wondered,
and dreamedin fourth grade.
#author #books #creativeWriting #emotionalWriting #literature #originalWriting #patrickWMarsh #poem #poemOfTheDay #poems #poet #poetsOnWordpress #spokenWord #writing
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Poem of the Day: "Twilight of Wisdom" #poetry #poem #poemoftheday
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Poem of the Day: "Twilight of Wisdom" #poetry #poem #poemoftheday
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Poem of the Day: "Twilight of Wisdom" #poetry #poem #poemoftheday
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Poem of the Day: "Twilight of Wisdom" #poetry #poem #poemoftheday
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The Anonymous User
Relatable for every ghost account grinding in silence... #Anonymous #PoertyCommunity #AnonymousUser #Poetry #Philosophy #MorcuxWrites #VerseVibes #ThoughtProvoking #WriterCommunity #MindfulMoments #Art #InstaWrite #SelfDiscovery #PoemOfTheDay #anonymousUser87 🖤🖤🖤
