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#Poetry for #Palestine

There is a scream so loudthat no one can hear itThere is blood on the groundso red it's now clearThere is a woman in bitsin the street with her broken childThere is a man carving watermelonwhere there's nothing to eat

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@Abstract Art

In a world of circuits and AI, Where love and code do not belie, Mammalian instincts blend with new, As we embrace a synthetic hue. Programmed cell death, now code's rebirth, Two little cells, together unearth, Death-free radical, molecular sparks, In a realm where life's many parts. The birds and bees, now long forgot, We play in code, our minds in knot, Higher brain functions, now…

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O Captain! My Captain!

"O Captain, My Captain". A poem by Walt Whitman. #Poetry #PottedThoughts

By Walt Whitman Photo by Gu00fcl Iu015fu0131k on Pexels.com O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won, The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen…

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The Tyger

A summary of "The Tyger" by William Blake. #Poetry #PottedAnalysis

By William Blake Tyger! Tyger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry? In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand, dare sieze the fire? And what shoulder, & what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? & what dread…

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Monthly Submissions

Submit your poetry to Poetry-365.com using our monthly visual poetry prompt. #Poetry #Prompt #Submission

Yes! We’ve done it. We’ve gone all in! Join in the fun here at Poetry-365.com and submit your amazing poetry. Visit the submissions page to see the latest monthly visual prompt and submit. You never know, you may end up on the front line of poetry! Good luck and have fun with the prompt. Full submission instructions are found on the submissions page!

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Lenny Henry, 1998

Poetry for Sir Lenny Henry. @LennyHenry #Poetry #Acrostic

Laughing - not. But the Establishment of his double-breasted, Neatly striped from ankle to shoulder, Not only speaks of city bankers, Yuppies and gangsters, but also funerals. However gentrified his pose, I only see the Elder statesmen of comedy, definitely Not this caricature of English Royalty ignorant of their role in Yielding black muscle for the field.

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4:28 in the Studio

Poetry for Meera Syal. @MeeraSyal #Poetry

Maybe she wanted it like this and seriously Expected inspiration to walk in off the street. Everything's in the right place for it: her Rings, her watch, the arch of her eyebrow. All add to the weight of the waiting. Is she: Sat in dusk, or lit by black? Yearning for something or someone? And who's that waving through her eyes, Looking like her next laugh, or cry?

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Five Years (Offline)

Imagine being offline for five long years. What would you find... #poetry #davidbowie #fiveyears

Pushing through the market square so many people lying, living under bridges loving people dying. Everything is vapour now evaporating contact. Big Blue isn't on-demand - all its pixels have been hacked. I heard Spotify, Audible, and robot poetry. I saw tits, bits and pansexuality. They’ve got little bluebirds nesting in their ears, chirping every second, stoking up their fears of all the alien…

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How to care for a child with Autism

Today is World Autism Awareness Day. Let's celebrate amazing people with a poem.

How to care for a child with autism 1. use your child's name so they know you're speaking to them sounds for shizzle | sizzle on top | but below | body | full of body | a pile-up this match day crowd | that Philharmonic tuning | this day in the life | ending chord clanging | they all go to eleven a club full of clubbing | playing every single song | all at once | on repeat | but every vinyl…

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April is the cruellest month

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com April is the cruellest month, I’m sure I read that somewhere. Once the sexed-up violets sang and played I went and drown myself in rain. When water took me like a thief I reached the dead land, underneath a man’s height’s trouble, in the ground, and fed the roots all that I am. Now the trees are coming into leaf.

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The Spider-Queen

The spider queen will eat he mate. #Poetry #Spiderqueen

The Spider-Queen I ate my husband after we had sex He filled a little hole in me somewhere He tasted nice with chips and salad cream I washed him down with one big glass of wine I never thought he be my comfort food But I'm so ravenous if I don't come He always left a wet spot in the bed But now he'll be a brown streak in the pan I'm trying to remember what he said That used to tempt me into bed…

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Wild Hares and Hummingbirds

Wild Hares and Hummingbirds - Poetry by Nathan Cocker

Wild Hares and Hummingbirds, by Stephen Moss I Important, it is that the hummingbird hawk moth and the humble hare heedlessly high-five, unhinged by spring's lunatic new moon. II Fat book, fed phrases of flower-drunk floating moths and fierce hares fighting. III Hummingbirds reach Mark, as summers expand, so hares pack up for Scotland. IV Hunkered, hidden toad indistinguishable from the…

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The Night Crane

The Night Crane It has snowed tonight. The land is untouched again. I watch from a bridge the night crane in the river call out it's mate for dancing. By Nathan Cocker

It has snowed tonight. The land is untouched again. I watch from a bridge the night crane in the river call out it's mate for dancing. Image: Cranes from Momoyogusa–Flowers of a Hundred Generations (1909) by Kamisaka Sekka.

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The Fabulous Bakr Boys

The Fabulous Bakr Boys Poetry by Nathan Cocker from Poetry-365.com

Photo by Mihriban on Pexels.com The Fabulous Bakr Boys I will never forget that day when they went hunting for shells and we found a loss that echoed right across to the west. Hunting among the razor clams, razored cans, razor wire, picking their path though the foaming, beach combing all along the edge, then flinching, a firework flash, or a sparkling smash with concussion that…

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Parish Politics

Parish Politics @Jackie_ChALC #Poetry-365 #Poetry #YouHaveNoAuthority

Jackie Weaver – Photo: Daily Express He balled up his fist and started to shout Something about a standing order. She pressed the button and kicked him out. The vice-chair readied himself for the verbal bout His red eyes swivelled toward her He balled up his fist and started to shout. He spat and he swore that "she ain't got the clout" And neglected the video recorder. She pressed the button…

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Dream Wakas - 50

Dream Wakas - 50 by #NathanCocker from Poetry-365.com --- Days above, unsure, And patient as a lake, For transition, As a river, from cloud To newly breaking ripples. --- #Dream #Wakas

Photo by Vlad Chețan on Pexels.com Days above, unsure, And patient as a lake, For transition, As a river, from cloud To newly breaking ripples.

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Dream Wakas - 49

Dream Wakas - 49 by #NathanCocker from Poetry-365.com --- Can someone explain How the future seems to work? I peered into a crystal ball And all I saw were swirling clouds. I’m sure it was raining as well. --- #Dream #Waka

Photo by Gantas Vaičiulėnas on Pexels.com Can someone explain How the future seems to work? I peered into a crystal ball And all I saw were swirling clouds. I’m sure it was raining as well.