Poetry Verse

One Blue Jockey

For Better or For Worse Published: April 28, 2026

For better or for worse I am not a single bit human any more now I lie in my nest completely stripped of my humanity, it went down the sloping soils with the rain, and my breaking nails were not enough to hold the fruitful soil from being dragged away. I remember how it felt, when I am getting showered with soil and rainwater in my cavern underneath a hollow tree trunk, the tree bruised my back and my arms bled down, watering the earth with deep red and dark brown, I shrank into nothingness and swam in my blood, it watered the soil as I got

Liebert Goochlaus

New England Published: March 31, 2026

As a young child I heard about the place called New England But as a old man I wondered... What ever happened to the old England?

Lexus Wright

Tears Published: March 27, 2026

The heart tears when it’s unknown The heart tears when you’re crying alone The heart tears when truth is made known The heart tears as you come to terms The scars They didn’t occur overnight Each time, the cut rips further The tear growing larger Until there’s nothing pure left Just scars from tears that never ended The scars From years of inconsistency, false promises, infidelities, lies, and insecurities Eventually, You give up. The tears take over. You feel nothing. You feel numb. You feel nothing. A heartbreak is

Mini

Moments Published: February 24, 2026

Not to feel without the things, which you want to do. Without the stuff - you need to feel not alone. To forget! To feel not crying! Feel the lonliness without you! Feelings to stay strong for your child, for your family! But not for yourself! But okay, for other people, things, solutions! And where do you STAY in this Moments? Asking yourself...! MC. 26.11. 2023

Jean

Mirror at Forty Two Published: February 15, 2026

In this cracked bathroom light on 9th and A, I count the lines that gravity has drawn— a map of nights I waited up in vain, a census of the kisses never born. My face refuses beauty’s common grace; the jaw too square, the eyes too small and tired, cheeks pocked with old adolescent wars that acne lost but never quite retired. I loved a man who loved a softer girl, one whose reflection smiled without a fight. He left me echoes, polite and cold, and took the version of me he’d rewrote. I walk these streets like every other ghost— black coat, bl