Category Archives: POETRY

When We Arrived presents: Passion 4 Poetry a poem by Solid Truth

Nikki Skies

I am an artist, I paint pictures with words,
the words you have spoken have already been heard.
My power is in stillness, I strategize every move.
I pray and write poetry to make the rough edges smooth.
I wasn’t always this peaceful person you see.
There were trials and tribulations that tried to overcome me.

But I passionately pursued the dream that was placed in my heart.
Whenever I am attacked, I return to my art.
This life is worth living, this dream seems too real,
so everyday I write poetry to express how I feel.
In hopes to inspire those who lack the desire
to paint pictures with words, so they too can be heard.

Poetry is my passion, the love of my life.
It carries me through all the struggles and strife.
So when things seem chaotic, or turned upside down.
I sit still and think of POETRY…

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(Dis)Honesty (a quatern)

Pen's Ink

image

I’ll share my truth in this quatrain.
Can you find it, in the refrain?
I don’t stand too long in the rain,
don’t think of you, or speak your name.

I don’t wait beneath weather vanes,
(I’ll swear it’s truth in this quatrain!)
or confuse thunder with the trains.
Ask again, I’ll tell you the same.

Just because weather stirs my brain,
doesn’t mean I cannot explain
the truth you’ll find in this quatrain.
This longing won’t make me insane.

I watch the forecasts, don’t complain.
Weathermen I refuse to blame.
I don’t miss you, the fact remains.
There is no truth in these quatrains.

—–

POETIC FORM: QUATERN

16 lines broken up into 4 quatrains (or 4-line stanzas). Each line is comprised of 8 syllables. 1st line is the refrain (R). In the 2nd stanza, the refrain appears in the 2nd line; in the 3rd stanza, the 3rd line…

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The warfare

Poet's Corner

Two bodies, one soul.

The history replaying the horrors

and corrupt them with hatred.

But one has to learn one day,

things can change with time.

Future can bring two forces together,

all the need is a little love.

All they need is a little understanding,

more learning & compassion.

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Free Verse

Mama Bear Musings

Free Verse

I went down to the stream to fish for a poem.
It finned under the lee side of a mossy boulder,
not about to venture out for anything so obvious
as an iamb. I tried a silver anapest, then a
flashy hendecasyllabic lure. Nothing doing.

Then I attached the promise of a prize
in the Southern Review. Honorable mention—
that old, rusty, barbless hook. No luck.

The borrowed effusion of salmon eggs
came next, but they got snagged
on somebody else’s line. So I clamped
on a lead-shot sinker or two with my back molars
and let the native earthworm—the one I had found
beneath the rotting bark of my conscience—
writhe to the bottom of the pool.

The poem darted out from the rock and took
the worm, the hook, the reel.
I felt it quivering in my creel—
then let it go, into this wild…

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Not Mine