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Hi everyone! So today’s post is a motivating poem, well it’s about how you don’t see yourself positively, and that hate and hurtful words influence that. It’s hard to hear something that can hurt, but remember that haters judge you on the outside, but they don’t know what lies on the inside. There’s a light, a sparkle among the shadows of your heart. You might not see it, but it shines when you are being yourself. #poems #poem #poet #poetry #poetrycommunity #poetryofinstagram #poetrylove #poetrysociety #lovepoems #literature #write #writer #writing #writerscommunity #writersofinstagram #writerslife #writerssociety #lovetowrite #motivation #inspiration #inspire #positive #light #sparkle #inside #heart #youarebeautiful #believeinyourself #beyourself #positivity

Day 23: @ttt_official #napowrimottt #napowrimo
Prompt: Love in the age of internet. .

Definitely not like
Florentino Ariza, she thought wryly,
who had kept his answer ready
for fifty three years, seven months
and eleven days and nights.
Love in times of internet
doesn't use words like
"forever." At least not for
love. Maybe for lust.
Maybe for a momentary rush.
Maybe for days spent
texting, nights spent sexting,
or viewing through
video eyes, the spaghetti straps
and pink polka shorts...
She looked at herself in the
mirror, and thought, like Sylvia Plath,
every day, in you, I drown my
youth, and pluck, stirring from
your depth, my age
in metallic hues.
Live in an age of internet
and feed on love
everyday
for years,
yet feel its
chimerical grip when
it proves itself by everything it is not,
and like the ancient bard,
issues nothing short of a
challenge back at them
when they wanted to
know what is love like
in this age of internet.
She would better profit,
she mused, trying to
perfect her wobbly
rhymes and wonky
sestets on the
phone keys as
she typed a requiem,
a modern day
love sonnet.
by anu.zafaranart
.
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.
Harry was eleven and so was I.
He spent all his time under the stairs
and I spent mine
hiding at home,
until one day a mail arrived.
His mail was brought in by an owl
and mine, by a postman.
But both of them said the very same thing
“Welcome to Hogwarts."
After initial reluctance,
we both decided to make the journey
into the unknown.
He entered the school of witchcraft and wizardry
and I set foot in the large universe of books.
Our diverse journeys commenced
together
and both of us never looked back ever since.
He met Hermione
and I came across Nancy Drew.
He made good friends with Ron.
I extended my hand towards Sherlock.
Harry and I,
we never lost touch though.
His every vacation
was the beginning of my school year,
but Harry was a friend
I could always make time for.
And seven years later
as he graduated out of Hogwarts,
I got out of school.
As he fell in love with Ginny Weasley,
I fell in love with books.
____
.
Poem by Jean (@jndmello).
| Withered Weedy Writers.
____
.
From beautiful narratives and cliffhangers to the help you need to avoid small talk, books are the ones that never really leave your side.
.
So this #WorldBookDay, we at WWW celebrate books, the magical teleportation portals that we've somehow stumbled upon.
.
Hope you're read-y, because we sure are.
____
.
Introducing [Poem], with the beauty we bind in our verses, expressing the untold, WWWe hope to make you sigh every time you look us up.
____
.
Submit your work at:
bit.ly/www-submit
.
Follow us on Instagram:
instagram.com/witheredweedywriters
.
Like our page on Facebook:
facebook.com/witheredweedywriters
____
.
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Golden Ghost of Sound
In the night quiet of Dublin Airport the
Scale of sound ventured up and down the parking rooms.
Sending shivers of blue down the night lit ghostport scene.
One would be forgiven for thinking the night air was humming a tune.

Like the pied piper the poet follows their imaginings.
Searching out words that might be leaning against lamposts.
Or reasoning with thoughts that are wrestling above or below ground.
Until one eventually mixes instance with profound.

Crossing the empty road and wedging open the metal door
The sound grows more authorative, deep and rising as it goes.
The poet creeps in with mischief, curiousity and a smidgen of fear.
Hoping that the ghost doesn't feel too confronted when a stranger gathers near.

For the mystery sound in the stairwell
Sounds so loud behind the now closed metal door.
The sound of one breathing down the mouthpiece
Of a golden trumpet roars.

Mustering up some bravery
As the ghost now real appears
Unveiling today he is auditioning
For an orchestra would you believe.

An Peann

#poetonthenightshift
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Poetic-Ebonics: Look at their hustle, waves of daily muscle. Jam packed within the streets for picture greets and tasty truffles. Tourist maps as eating finger food lenses point high to sky. Scrapers of the clouds held up, give the kids a different type of shy. Look down from the Empire State great, planes flying and passing by. Almost living in the air, neighbors sun share the beams close by. Just one part of the city that's nice and made pretty. Best believe 5 is live. Boroughs make the extra shit gritty beyond the pretty times squaring side. The reals know back in the day it was the spot of hookers and dose connects. Enhancing nights with stylish fights and crowds they didn't forget. Had to change it for the Wall Street geared generating more financially steer, correct. Growth in a global rate to clean up that side, message is clear. Yet forgot the others sides, screaming gentrification in unknown fear. Bottle up your change and strange work ethic no close in range. Be the owners of the newly fixed mixed don't leave the grange. NY blessed my writing and different signing emotions cry. Smooth the pain from NY Others, speaking wit sisters and brothers. Gotta grab what we feel is best to pass on as fathers and Mothers. Tho times never seems to rest, conquer the phantom drama that slwats smothers. With no wonders, concrete jungle born leaders, smooth and rough sitting high or respected under. Never a New York Undercover. Forever repping my city, taught me different parts of life, from so much strife could have plundered. Poetic thunder worldly i cyph. C.M.I.U.C. #poeticebonics #igpoetry #instapoet #follow #poems #nyc #newyorkcity #newyork #writersofinstagram #writerscommunity #poetsofinstagram #poetrycommunity #travel #instagood #smile #instalike #selfie #art #design #fashion #timessquare #live #love #life #igpoets #poetrysociety #writerssociety #follow4follow #swag #words

humanity
how long do you wish to hide?
away from our world, you might have settled in a place where no humans reside.
is it warm out there?
it probably is for ours is in dearth of amiability,
we run out of empathy more often than the poor run out of grocery,
and land no longer smells of home but that of blood
and seas are no longer breath taking for they are just means to escape our lands and the wars.
its been so long now that i wonder if we suffocated you away from here.
with each killing, each rape, each war and each rage,
maybe we killed you bit by bit, till you could no longer survive.
but in case if you have just lost your way and are wandering around
i hope you find us soon, before the cold kills us all.
.
.
.
Picture credits: @pexelsphotos

What made you disbelieve in love?
DOUBLE TAP, if you relate. _________________________________________ Shared by @srthewriter _________________________________________ Follow - @the.shattered.dreams _________________________________________
#onesided #lover #sigh #gf #bf #broken #heart #love #tbt #relationship #relatable #inspiration #tale #story #changelife
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