Writing Forums

Writing Forums is a privately-owned, community managed writing environment. We provide an unlimited opportunity for writers and poets of all abilities, to share their work and communicate with other writers and creative artists. We offer an experience that is safe, welcoming and friendly, regardless of your level of participation, knowledge or skill. There are several opportunities for writers to exchange tips, engage in discussions about techniques, and grow in your craft. You can also participate in forum competitions that are exciting and helpful in building your skill level. There's so much more for you to explore!

Poetry

candle's slow burn a puddle of melting wax-- we called it love (c) Neetu Malik Image: riteshman/ pixabay
If I were blind, I would know you by the touch of your hand, the sound of your voice, the bleeding of your heart but I am one with eyes aware of yours.......dwelling on the color of my skin the doubt in your mind, I am wishing we were both blind (c) Neetu Malik Image: Cozmicphoto/ Pixabay
mist fills the night— there are no ghosts, just my self and me in mellow light I pause only to listen to rustling in the trees, where secrets like my own might be guarded mystery it’s not for me to know what those might be, it is a comfort just to feel a kindred familiarity (c) Neetu Malik
For three days and three nights they gathered on the roof stacking stones. On the day the saints marched in (trumpets wailing siren-song) The sky burst open. Inside the house she prayed to see a golden stairway spiral down from heaven. But the escalator would have to do. She hovered a quick goodbye slipped out into hard rain and looking back threw a pillar of salt into the murder. Those black-frocked congregants hard eyes, sleek heads stones rolling from their mouths. Their corrugated...
In this place of power and contradictions I walk uphill. The way is rocky, steep wind pushing from all directions. I am careful where I place my feet. Around me insects buzz in secret conversation not meant for human ears and like the child, unnoticed beneath her parent's table I struggle to catch words beyond my understanding. Their sudden silence, a hole in the air as if they know I am listening and have slammed shut the lid on a mason jar trapping me inside. In this place where she...
night descends I cover myself in its solemn grace of a mother, ever present to ensconce me, keep me safe would Dawn be the stranger lurking, biding its time to reveal all that I wish to hide? my own fears, seedlings that need a brighter light to thrive for now, I embrace the calm, buried in this night I know to be my guardian (c) Neetu Malik
from fresh, tender buds we journey to wilted blooms the earth continues..... (c) Neetu Malik Image: manfredrichter/pixabay Ima
Top