Prose Poems

Inside my prose poem is happiness, happiness for all. Even the juicy parts don’t lack think material. I have it on good authority. My autistic Aunt says I should stop writing. Where are the beans? I was told in my

May the ink that flows From the nib of my pen Forever entertain you With words of love And life and wonder Lick beams of light Through clouds of thunder May the blood that flows Through the hand that writes

I will end up at the sky gates, as a thirsty spike, roving around in valleys, looking for a crippled dream. I am an almond tree, a stolen joy for a feast of phantoms. I bend to the mornings’ face,

It’s a happy day! After hundreds of submissions, days of reviews and a month full of happy poems, we finally bring to you the 5 lucky winners of Happiness Happens contest who have won prizes amounting to 100$ (each winning

10 ways to write a poem! No sentence in the glory of English language has hit me as hard as this one did. I started writing poetry when I was in class 7th. I still remember the day when this

Hello! Chester here… Missing you so, A bookworm am I, Oh, yesss, today just sliding by… With spectacles on my nose, I do both poetry and prose. Want to hear more about me … And my family…? So awfully lovely

“Lock up your libraries if you like; but there is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind”, so said Virginia Woolf and you have truly embodied her thoughts in actions by

A word on a line joined with many and more, a story to tell from behind a closed door. A line on a page and a paragraph to make, from a thoughtful sage to the ones who forsake. A page

He was the first man your eyes opened to.. The shivering hand that touched your tiny nose.. The strong arm you cuddled on.. His love that kept brimming but never spilled.. Those eyes that made everything seem within reach.. That

You know, I just write as it flows Sometimes poetry Sometimes prose Who knows… What this life brings Who knows… When the nightingale sings Yesterday is history Tomorrow is a mystery Today is the truth Now is the reality I

She shakes it, spreading the exuberance, gushing out of its folds ’n Crevices of long-ago, like a perennial stream of jubilant euphoria- Converting matter into emotions, from the tangible to the intangible, Embodying an idyllic confluence around, fervently fluttering to

If a picture paints a thousand words Then where does that leave me A pen for a brush and ink as my paint And the words are what you all see If the pen is mightier than the sword Then

The Pen And The Page If a picture paints a thousand words Then where does that leave me A pen for a brush and ink as my paint And the words are what you all see If the pen is

In Biblical times there was a youngster name David who killed a lion and a bear. Later on, he also killed a terrorizing giant and became the second king of Israel. My oldest brother never became a king, but he

Sitting in this beautiful dark night , Framing the tale of life. When time runs out and heart needs to say so much more, And you are left with a raw nagging sore. Then reach for your paper and pen,

(1) My grandmother, may God have his mercy on her, still keeps the role of the hero; her face wrinkles are a leather book open to all interpretations; the falling of her teeth are the lost evidence on present time;

I’ve fallen in love with the poet In all its dimensions rippling across the pool of time, incarnate in its everything the rosy cheeked and wet lipped girl rattling existential verse over the clamor of a twelve car train, barreling

Nothing I shall do, to be a wisher; No wishes to make. Never mind,my friends, The”Making Wishes” prose won’t run so long. A wish precisely persists as a wish all along, Until I’m propelled by the blowing wind of wish

The Pen And The Page If a picture paints a thousand words Then where does that leave me A pen for a brush and ink as my paint And the words are what you all see If the pen is

Hours before the birth of the gem, There was an affectionate argument between them; Her father said, ”Watch my child change the state as a minister”, To which her mom quipped, ”No she’ll deliver unbiased justice as a barrister.” When

One night, one day Two different kisses One Sun, one sky Two galaxies No door from one to another No pathway through space Yet, in a daze I travel, From one to the other In this twin exit maze Days

Physically abused, Mentally accused, Emotionally scared For the ones she held dear. Her burning flesh And the positive tests Her leaking face Would always make my heart race The looks of disgrace would show on their face Without a clue,

O; happy folk, poetry is the fingers of light, descending at evening like an old farmer with eyes cut from azure. It told me that the sun has two long braids, and goes out at dawn to her grandfather’s flourishing

When I die, Bury me in those pages, Which failed to become My identity, my stages. Let me lie close To those verses, Those prose, Which never truly dealt With the emotions I felt. In my death Let me be

The Pen And The Page If a picture paints a thousand words Then where does that leave me A pen for a brush and ink as my paint And the words are what you all see If the pen is

The cough syrup and amphetamine Don’t seem to mix, in nineteen-ninety Six, and I throw up in the Communal showers, from Impurities. The sight Of the silver fish helped. Tony, in room eight, no longer Around. Dragged his corpse From

The Pen And The Page If a picture paints a thousand words Then where does that leave me A pen for a brush and ink as my paint And the words are what you all see If the pen is

I am a word, the word that came from God, careful how you use me. The creation spoke through ages with so much wisdom, and till today I am alive and live among you, I am not afraid of anyone,

Why today? Many ask Why not today? The reply should be For Good things For jovial things For gatherings For Picnics For Meeting a lover You want it today For all other which does not suit you you dont want

Where do we live? Is this place even real? How real is real? We open our eyes and find ourselves here. But, where is here? We accept what we see, what else can we do? We move through life doing

Crows, Mosquitoes, School buses, Crunch of snow Secured in my memory like the sound of your voice Morning fog on the lake, Fish jumping, Changing colors, Lake freezing over Secured in my memory like watching you drink coffee Mud, Cut

Then young & handsome Now old & ugly Then very active and efficient Now passive & inefficient Wise & sharp then Foolish & stupid now Attractive romantic hero then Scary & hated villain now Teeth were a shining diamond then

The sun won’t appear today Rising elsewhere it kindles flowers In foreign fields; even inspires A crop of melanoma among The fieldhands. But not here. The grey view south is dotted With electric pinpoints and a single Tall cross dim

Many days have gone by, And in loneliness I lie. On my bed, couch, or floor; I always find I yearn for more. The return of my husband who, Has been gone with work to do. A military man is

New look is a must For the modern blunt Pump up your lips Suck fat from hips Lifting your skin You cannot begin Your body features Give me no answers Under the skin You lose or win We have to

It only took a few months for them to truly understand. That life can end so quickly. So they now walk hand in hand. It only took a single glance for them to fall in love, But no one knows

Far moost o’ me three score minus one year tethered upon terra firmae where planet Earth doth veer (spins upon the global axis (tilted 23.5 degrees from the plane of its orbit around the sun), terrestrial genesis (perhaps accompanied for

People crying in the east and west Few for the dreams built to be the best Few for the food or attack of pest Few for the losses with wounded chest Few over their davestated nest Pity for few and

Sun rises in east and sets in west, every month, moon appears and disappears, seasons come and seasons go, but heart rhythms are unceasing. Night comes and fades away- day arrives and gradually it disappears; in rain and in sun-

Whispered names falling simply off lips, Freckles that ripple on skin, Azure eyes that flooded dreams. Eyes may capsize stable thoughts, Blindly wade into unknown waters, Not knowing awaiting dangers. A siren’s melody put in a trance, A map to

See me not caring anymore see me walking out the door you’ve hurt me for the last time and I’m tired of you trying to mess with my mind, so see me not caring anymore, see me see me walking

Sleepless night Windy outside I counted the stars None is as shiny None as bright As my eyes When they meet yours Short blond hair A look like you don’t care But why did our hearts stop When our eyes