Recently, I’ve taken to the stoic concept of Amor Fati, which roughly translates from Latin to a love of one’s fate. Amor Fati pushes the art of Radical Acceptance one step farther, out of tolerance and into love. To really, truly love one’s fate, not merely suffer it, endure it…

It’s time we stopped allowing society to curb our souls — I’ve just released what feels like a pivotal single. Pivotal for me, at least — up until now, all of my work has been looking outwards, trying to make sense of the world around me as it appears to fall apart. The systems that govern our lives have been in…

…my colours faded — Dying in the dark my colours faded I ache to have wings so that I can fly high into the sky far from the things that trouble me where I could be endlessly circling in splendid solitude far from the caverns of darkness far from the howls and the scent of the blood of the beast…

It Would Be Simpler If You Just Told Me What To Do — Me: You had a specific plan for me, didn’t You? God: Of course, it is the same one that I have devised for each person who has ever lived, that you become the most fully human “you” possible. Me: That sounds nice, but like something I would expect to get…

I did the work for you to find out which poetry-accepting publications have the most followers and are also accepting new contributors! — Call it what you will but sometimes a notion gets into my head and like an itch that needs scratching I just can’t stop. I was searching online for the biggest Medium publications for poetry. Of course, as many of you have probably already encountered, the search results online are…

When it rains in paradise There are no umbrellas or Tendrils of leafy trees to protect us We do not need them anymore — In those moments when our hearts collide Our bodies connect so deeply Each drop feels like The last drop before infinity, Then we separate And seek solitude once again Waiting until the next downpour Before I…

An ekphrastic etheree — From beneath, I call you; far from any shoreline, weary from storm-wracked seas; lean over the edge of safety, love, how my arms reach for you — safe harbour from this tempest; touch my skin, aglow, like luminous pearls, like treasure long lost Oh, listen; my lilting melody, love, rising from the depths, seducing mortal…

Neither with a nuclear bang nor a viral whimper — The world ended. We do not yet know who or what caused it, but it affected everyone. No-one was able to resist the madness. All of a sudden the quietness of our minds was shattered by thousands of voices that drove everyone insane. Humans acquired telepathy. All of them at…

Chaos is the Womb of Creation — Dreamtime A hawk lands on a branch above where a raven is perched. The raven is not amused and croaks out his displeasure. The hawk ignores him. He is looking at the gathering of people. Natural World It was a warm summer evening and a number of us gathered to…

A poem about a lost souls struggle to reach the healing starlight. The hope within begins to form into a blue flame. — In a distance universe, it begins to dance, a blue flame, the surrounding darkness acts as the wind. A reality or a dream, a vision clear like crystal, a blue flame keeps burning, you feel it's desire for you. …

A journalist investigates a tech company manufacturing nightmare suppressing nanotech for children. — Previous Parts: Part One Part Two Part Three For a full minute, I stand in numb silence. My hand finds its way to the television remote, as though disconnected from the rest of my body. I rewind the live broadcast and play it again, gleaning a few extra details. Sandra Williams was stabbed to…

A journalist investigates a tech company manufacturing nightmare suppressing nanotech for children. — Click here for Part One Part Two After a few minutes, I leave the Owl offices, taking the tube to Hyde Park. I’ve arranged to meet Sandra at a particular bench near the Peter Pan statue, where she’s provided me with confidential information in the past. Being a little early, I sit on the bench and wait…

A journalist investigates a tech company manufacturing nightmare suppressing nanotech for children. — Part One This is the third time in as many days I’ve woken in a state of terror for no apparent reason. The fear is overwhelming. It churns my insides. I curl up, cowering beneath the bedsheets. Over the next couple of minutes, my heart slows and my breathing returns to normal…

The songs of the Sun and the Moon — There was love and the lovers In the secret treasures of the cosmos For eons words were unsaid For million twilights feelings were webbed For countless years the creations were shaped For centuries sagas flowed through the elements For endless sunbeams eyes were held with embers For innumerable moments the skies remained still…

Write it, and they may never leave — Silence thickened the air to the consistency of batter. Determined to pluck from the quiet the slightest murmur, Olivia held her breath until it pained her to continue. So worrisome was their silence that she left her office to head to the kitchen. …

I place my hand upon your chest and feel the warm pat of your heart in my palm; there is something in the ease of your breath, your black-haired fingers tapping on my neck that rings acutely of denouement. I was yours at fourteen — Remember how I stood at my…

I seem happy because my writing is sad — It gets so quiet, I want to be held… even if it hurts. Even when it stings. Wrap me in the whispers of the most gentle tendrils of the jet stream. Even if it’s cold. Even if it draws the goosebumps out of my past and onto my tattooed skin…

The way the dark creases the sky in that slender spot, a spider’s thread, by the horizon. It is that moment of gauze when the girl curls an arm in greeting, the sun hardly propelled. She wills the numb iciness of the stars to roll off her shoulders in swells, as…

Poetry — I am swallowed by these four walls—my mind — a locked room occupied by the past tense. A hollow space — boarded and hemmed — sewn in inexplicable darkness, stitched in poetry, basted in tremulous dreams, evicted in desperation. I write to release my parched demons born of confusion and…

The best thing about Medium is we can find the great poets' works here! — Hallo all writers and readers! I’m A Shayens Abran the founder of Be Open publication! Welcome to Our Best Discovery #69. Each time we do exoploration, the exciting moments is always about how easy we can find great poems even from newest joined authors. …