
Corset
by Serena Mossgraves
strangling
I struggle to breathe,
the tightness nearly
breaking me...
pull the strings,
tighter still,
for vanity demands
the corset drawn
to bone tight.

Corset
by Serena Mossgraves
strangling
I struggle to breathe,
the tightness nearly
breaking me...
pull the strings,
tighter still,
for vanity demands
the corset drawn
to bone tight.

Murder
by Serena Mossgraves
A murder takes flight
on wings of shadow
against a field of
the purest white
towards an azure sky.
I find myself wanting
to join them,
spreading wings and
taking flight.
The extreme beauty
in the difference
between the
shadow and the light,
fills the world
with wistful imagination.

Caustic
by Patricia Harris
The words that drip from your tongue
burn deeply into the soul,
Caustic like the acid,
Perhaps I am lost in a fog
of the brain melted by what you had to say...
I stand here broken,
wondering if I have made
many the wrong choice,
Walking through the acid rain...
for someone who will never see
the damage inflicted.
For the one who will always
cause me pain.

One Candle
by Serena Mossgraves
is it too much
to light a single candle,
to illuminate the world
one small light at a time?
One Candle to fight the darkness,
one Candle to push the dreary away.
I am not trying to rid the world
of all the darkness,
That is too much for me to try,
I just want to push some light
into the world so that I might see.
One Candle is enough for me.

Time to pause,
As all good poetry is
but a practice of
Metered thought
and the rhythm of
how practical verse can be.
So, with genteel caution
thrown to the wind…
write bad poetry…
then pause to write
good poetry once again.

Full of pomp,
circumstance,
and prayers,
It is time to turn
the ink from tears
to the poetry
it was meant to be.
Pick up the pen,
put it to the page…
and let the verse
expose the differing
emotions that hold you
as a slave.

Is it a sin
to give gratitude
for the win?
Being able to convert
all of life's little hurts
into form and verse…
For me that is enough
to be grateful for,
that poetry exists.

Give me the pen
My brain is alight,
It is time for me
to write poetry tonight.
Perhaps I should pause
for the verse speaks
volumes and more,
but I think it solves
the internal war.

Humanity
By Patricia Harris
Define for me
That which makes us human?
The bits that keep us from
Being defined as animals
Or monster…
Remind me,
On my dark days,
That all that is within me
Is still humanity…
Even if I wonder if I ever
Was human at all?