The Poet Community

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I’m poet Guy Farmer and I created The Poet Community to feature thoughtful, original, contemporary poetry from poets worldwide.

 


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Guy


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Stuck Life | A Poem by Gaurav Gupta

It’s that life’s stuck,
Stuck in one place,
Refusing to move forward,
Each day passes as the same,
Giving the same pain,
Like a cassette playing the same tune,
Life’s such a ruin.
Deja vu all over,
The same faces,
The same expression,
The same me.
Sometimes I want to run away
Even the clock repeats itself.
Trying to change it all over,
Trying hard,
But stuck there too.


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Broken Frame | A Poem by JD DeHart

So, you see the way
I see. Hitchcock was a master
of this.

Take me inside the mind
of the character. Problem is
once you have run

your gray matter across some
pages, I wonder if the ink
doesn’t leave a streak there.

You once thought the earth
lined up. Now, there is a slight
angle you can’t shake.

A word appears, imposed
on what you once knew.

Visit JD at https://dehartreadingandlitresources.blogspot.com.


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Lifeworld | A Poem by Haris Adhikari

I tried my father’s shoes.
They were too big. Still
I kept trying them, as said.
But it did not help; I’ve not grown
as tall as he.

I also tried my brothers’
shoes, shirts and trousers.
They too were big. Still
I kept trying them, as said.
But it did not help; I’ve not grown
as tall as they.

Now, with a receding hairline,
and with a worldview of my own,
I’m growing more and more into
the reverse of my young resilience!
And I don’t have to fit into
a certain height, certain build. Lifeworld
taught me so in the end.

Visit Haris at http://madswirl.com/author/hadhikar/.

—–
Haris Adhikari is a poet, translator, editor and a lecturer living in Kavre, Nepal.


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Living with Regret | A Poem by Wayne Russell

Profound brown leaves,
crushed underneath my
feet, like memories; swirling
and forlorn.

I dream of us and our children,
it’s the good times that I cling
onto in the noonday sun.

It’s the memories that shelter
me, from the onslaught of winter
woe.

It’s the knowledge of loneliness,
that mortifies me the most, lost
without my family.

It’s facing a craggy city, threading
a bleak needle of homelessness,
asleep in some derelict house, long
abandoned by inhabitants, encased
now by only the darkness and me.

—–
Wayne Russell is an amateur photographer and creative writer who was born and raised in Florida. Wayne’s musings have been published online and in print since about 1990. Wayne is a recovering alcoholic who currently roams the streets of Columbus, OH.


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Snow-Covered Treetops | A Poem by Debra Sasak Ross

Brittle trees of winter
Cold wind creeps through your limbs
Like icy fingertips
Clutching at the Spring.
Snowflakes fall
Landing firmly
Creating a misty revival
For Spring’s re-birth
And salvation.

Visit Debra at https://www.facebook.com/groups/fallenangelpoetry.

—–
Debra Sasak Ross Is a published poet from Chicago, Il. You can find her work in the anthologies Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze and Dandelion in a Vase of Roses. Her first book, “Believe” will be published soon. You can also fine here work here and at AllPoetry.com Besides reading and writing, she loves thunderstorms and blizzards.


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“Unbecoming” | A Poem by Ryan Quinn Flanagan

I am sharing a bathroom with this woman
in a motel down along Kingston Road,
this woman who refuses to argue
because she says it is “unbecoming.”
As though you come more and more unravelled
as a person with each petty word you can’t take back.
And we are there for two nights.
In close quarters.
She really is a wise one.
I show her my tattoos and she runs her hands
over them like the blind reading Braille.
When we sleep tonight she will snore lightly
and I will fall asleep listening to that.
And in the morning we will find a place
for breakfast and park the car
and walk on in.


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