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The Art of Poetry

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623 contributions to The Art of Poetry
Where My Blood Predicts You
I feel fractured Everywhere The currency for my thoughts has multiplied and I can barely eat The distress of my heart has set me on its tracks But I remain bound, refusing to retreat I am aching to lift myself up but my spine has webbed, gone wayward To feel so much less.. the absence of you feels like a murder The wage for this beauty has gored me, But the universe whispers “hurt her” And I welcome the pain like a prize So now, in varying stages of undress, my soul has reached her limit I’ll venture out into the dead of night, in disguise Always drifting to ruins and empty rooms, Where my blood predicts you to be The rivets of my spirit struggling to hold me as one I cannot float among the tragedy of it anymore, A gentle willing corpse I cannot compromise the time I have left, It is so little, it is so lost. Copyright ©️ Kimberly Virga 2026
0 likes • 9h
@Jason Strickland thank you
1 like • 9h
@Lisa Karasek 🖤
Kitten Bite
Ascending myself, you Weren’t prepared for that, were you You thought She’ll be done in by cigarettes and drink You thought, Forget a life raft, I’m going to watch her sink Oh precious man with little brain foliage to Work with I’ve drank coffee stronger than the Lining of your stomach could take Oh precious man with suspended brain inking I know it’s hard to pretend to be important When you’re barely capable of rational thinking So yes, Ply me with medications, recommend your Bargain-bin meditations But I gotta tell you The embossed tenor of your voice, puny Has greatly reduced my expectations And yeah, Tell everyone I’m so looney But you’re roasting in my sunlight And I’m not even putting up a fight (that’s how hard you pack a punch… kitten bite) Copyright ©️ Kimberly Virga 2026
Deer
Torrential But is it my pain, endless novelty of girlhood Gone bad Or The rain, the handsy pendulum of nature Gone mad And leave me to it, I’ve collapsed under Bricks into blankets And the majority eagerly waits to tell the story Of how the burdened woman has relapsed Into her loneliness, onto her own jar of ashes They don’t tell you this in your high school classes That the orb of this life will puncture you for Their own continuity, their own function They don’t tell you how being a woman is So much like being a deer We admire you for your beauty But they’ll shoot if you come near Copyright ©️ Kimberly Virga 2026
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No Summers
Sometimes, I feel I’m dragging my corpse Uphill, my shoulder blades morphed into razors Sometimes for a teasing moment I can relax Into the softness of peonies, Then I jolt awake into reality, And there are no summers- no saviors. Just me and my ribboning knees, Taking to the ground under the weight of a Waterboarded soul, inconvenient for You to love, But so easy for you to do what you please Copyright ©️ Kimberly Virga 2026
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🐾 Monkey's Corner Prompt of the Day:
Write a poem about a place in nature that still holds someone's memory.
🐾 Monkey's Corner Prompt of the Day:
2 likes • 2d
Violets at the drainpipe Of my great-mother’s house These fleeting images A shock of purple And years later, I’d give that name to my daughter I remember her patterned dress, so frail Posing reluctantly at the back porch rail The symposium of a summer heat wave Vibrating through each petal, Through the thin skin of her arms And I have never experienced a heatwave The same
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Kimberly Virga
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@kimberly-virga-1125
Author and poet. I write in a modernized confessional style, with themes of feminism, eroticism, the every day mundane, and of course- love.

Active 2h ago
Joined Jan 4, 2026