Eve Poetry Magazine is an organic evolution of my great love to support and help others. I use my social media pages, both @eve_poetry and @evepoetrygroup to create inspiration and mentor others. Becoming a published author depends largely upon marketing. I use my skills in marketing to help bring light to beautiful poetry and writing.
Everyone has a story. People who share their written stories deserve to be seen and heard. This is the heart behind Eve Poetry Magazine.
Currently, I am polishing up my first novel. I schedule reading and writing into my days, and although there are days this is tough, it’s completely worth it! Having a full time job and writing a novel requires strong time management. However, pursuing my passion is worthy of grappling such things!
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Recently, I attended my first writers’ conference. The Willamette Writers Conference was an amazing experience. I made friends and connections with talented authors and industry professionals. In conclusion, I can proudly say that I’m pursuing my dream of becoming a published author.
A wise man once said nothing when nothing needed to be said Instead he remained quiet and kept his thoughts in his head
This man may not have left us with wise words for us to quote But he demonstrated the importance of simply taking note
Juliette Plamondon
Hello, my name is Juliette, and I’m a high school student living in Canada, B.C.
Although I’ve always been one to enjoy writing stories, the idea of giving poetry a try was encouraged by my father, who is an avid writer himself, having written eight books of poetry.
I am not currently published, but I have partaken in several local poetry competitions over the past couple of years, placing 1st and 2nd on a few occasions.
Aside from spending my time writing, my other hobbies include drawing, reading, doing puzzles, and playing video games; as well as many other random activities.
I run a poetry Instagram account with my father that you can follow! @barrypoetry
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I was called home to gain my wings. It was scary on Earth. So full of darkness. Thank you for being my light. I'm no longer hurting. I've been set free from all of the pain. I put up the best fight I could. And all along you stood right by. I'm sorry for losing. But it will be okay Tears will fall Eyes will dry Hearts will break Souls will heal All in time Truthfully, nothing will ever be the same. But please go on living life. To the fullest extent. Full of Laughter, Joy and Memories It my not feel like it But we've never been apart I'm right there with you. Forever in your heart. Remember me As you look in the night sky You were once my shining star Now, let me be yours. The love I had for you Still pouring out freely As a ravishing waterfall Remember me In the field of flowers The beauty of growth I'm no longer hurting. I've let go It's your turn now. So, please let go. Let me forever rest inside your soul. Remember me I'll forever be alive. Go on now, go live your life.
The Fog
Poetry by Sarah Pletcher
Help. I'm drowning The demons breathe in my oxygen and let out fog. I can't breathe. I can't see. I'm trapped Can anyone hear me? Help Help My worlds falling dark I'm fading away into the fog These demons may win. Where is the sun? I long for her comforting glow. All color has fled Black and white fills my eyes Reach in and grab my hand Tell me I'm not alone Pull me back. Out of the fog Into the light. Remind me That I can Fly. I need you now More than ever So please don't let go. Don't let me drown. You can't leave me here Not right now. Believe in me. So I can too I'm just a little bent Not entirely shattered. With a little support I can hold it all together. I need to heal But sometimes We all need a little Help Can you be mine?
Sarah Pletcher
I am 21 years old and from Ohio. I started writing in middle school. Other than poetry, photography and playing clarinet are my other hobbies.
I write mainly on my Instagram account @the.shades_sarah.writes. I am a stay at home mom to my two daughters who are 2 years old and 1-year-old. I’m engaged to their father. It’s a hectic, happy life.
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Car shows, summer beer fests, and 24/7 air-conditioning
wet Chelsea boots, crunchy leaves, ice coffee no matter the temperature
puffs of warm air from our mouths in the winter, a preheated car, Christmas and New Year’s Day with family and mutual friends
holding hands, walks to my front door, spicy food that you attempted to eat, and multiple trips to the bathroom
memories of high school, college, after-college, moves, and my first meeting with Potato
waiting, loneliness, and other priorities
misunderstandings, arguments, no one giving in, no one winning
muted tears, looking out opposite windows, long drives in silence
drunk anger, tightly closed mouths, and hearts impenetrable
regrets, limited efforts, and finally, a goodbye
Joanne Lee
My name is Joanne Lee. I am a Korean-American, born and raised in Chicago, IL. In the daytime, I am a regular nine-to-five employee working in accounting but come nighttime – I am whatever I want to be.
I am the master chef of my kitchen, the top billboard artist of my bathroom, an amateur (very amateur) but enthusiastic potter and photographer, an aspiring writer, and proud mom of my precious puppy; Potato. I love all forms of art, but especially literature.
My dream in life is to publish a book of short stories and poems but for the moment I take great joy in filling my journal with ideas, thoughts, poems, drawings, and other random tidbits.
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Stealth and her sisters have taken residence at the cul-de-sacs of my nerves. They held house warmings, let the hot air humble itself until it sank down upon the guests’ shoulders as a cool, refreshing breeze, served hors d’oeuvres for every thought of their origin. When you look me in my eyes tonight, you’ll find it useful to know my envy for the ones who aren’t afraid to dance at the party, the ones who bulldoze the properties of preconceived panic and stomp the dust into the ground while luscious laughter sings between their lips. I have tried all my life to let myself out of my meaty enclosure, but there’s a reason they call it your rib cage, for how can a heart never, at least once, feel like a prisoner? When I tell you I do not wish to go out tomorrow, know that I am not surrendering my plight, but I am finding a loophole - a place where I can unlace the corset, let myself bulge as I ooze a sugary sap of porcelain melting, of nature in its nonjudgmental air. When I confess my love for you, you might find it monumental, for I have never been this wide open.
Karissa Seibel
I am 17 and from Ohio, USA. For as long as I can remember, I have loved writing. I started out with short stories and began writing poetry a few years ago, but began focusing heavily on it just this year.
As this is my senior year of high school, it is time for me to decide what I wish to pursue for a career. I am still a little indecisive, but one of my top choices is to have a career in editing. I just don’t see myself not being involved in the art of writing!
Some of my other hobbies include makeup and fashion. While I only practice those hobbies for fun, I take my writing seriously. Although I do not have a job in the field, I have an Instagram account: @karissa_thinks_in_ink.
I’m always looking at ways in which I can improve as a poet and I am looking forward to continuing to pursue this craft in my future, whether it’s part of my day job or on the side. I hope you enjoy my work and am ever grateful for the opportunities!
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She wonders what it would be like to swallow all her pills and fall asleep. Thoughts darker than the night fill her mind. Pulling her from the feeble grasp of sleep. Long days of silence broken only by his taunting undulating inhalations and exhalations. A now-stranger lies a million miles away across the king sized bed. The mattress where love was once made now presses firmly against her back. Still and cold. Dead. She drifts lightly off holding the pill bottle tight in her palm. Security blanket - she knows she could make it all go away so easily. But she also believes she deserves this. Pennants for a sin that left her broken and corrosive. Doomed to destroy what remains of herself and anyone foolish enough to love her. Trapped in the purgatory of her memory - Heart racing her eyes open wide, searching. The weighted blanket wrapped heavily across her in a sad embrace that does not erase the heavy absence of his arm across her body. Shadows play on the dark walls like his fingers once danced along her skin tracing her curves. She feels nothing as she runs her own fingers about the forgotten canvas of her body. She returns the pill bottle to her nightstand and expertly finds the cold hard handle of the pocket knife she keeps hidden “for emergencies” next to her bed. Dreaming of the warmth of feeling something - anything - as the blade faintly glides over the scar on her left wrist. “I’m so sorry,” she pleads into the darkness. She could finally sleep. Her secrets never spoken would die with her like all the things she should have but never could bring herself to say. He’d wake and find her as cold and hollow as he’d said she was these last few years. It would still be painfully quiet. The bed would feel just as empty. She returns the blade to its hiding place. It would be so easy. But she can’t. Not tonight.
Amber Jasinski
Amber Jasinski has been writing poetry about the human experience and mental illness for the past several years. She has an undergraduate degree in nursing and works full time as a Registered Nurse.
She is a wife and mother and lives in a full house with her husband, 3 daughters, 2 young grandchildren, her younger brother, and 2 awesome dogs!
She enjoys writing as an avenue to explore her own journey with mental illness and to promote mental health advocacy.
She writes under the name ajblueorion on social media where you’ll find her “lost somewhere between the words and melancholy madness.”
This post contains affiliate links. An affiliate link means I may earn advertising/referral fees if you make a purchase through my link, with no extra cost to you. It helps to keep this little magazine afloat. Thanks for your support. Read full disclosure here.
Just like every Saturday night I was again writing about him Adding one more chapter to how he introduced the moon to me // I have always sought for darkness Maybe that is reason why "No moons" used to be my favourite Until when he introduced the moon to me // I was thinking all this Lost, staring at the most beautiful thing Crescent moon it was, And I remembered when I used to ask him Why he chose me? And just like always, he would say "You're the crescent moon in my night sky" I would always end up thinking What a weird amour I had got And he would chuckle and say "One day you will understand" I was so lost in my darkness That I never understood what he meant But tonight I did In the night sky with billions of stars I always thought that I was incomplete Full of flaws and imperfections But he saw right through my walls Crescent moon Though it seems incomplete But it's the same moon Which would soon glow on the full moon I was perfect, just never realised With tears in my eyes tonight I finally understood what he meant When he caressed my forehead When it hit the dusk...
Pranav Rustagi
I’m from Delhi, India and doing graduation in the Computer Science field. I am a vocalist.
Besides singing, coding and writing are my basic interests. I’m not that much serious about writing but it won’t be right either if I state that it’s just a hobby for me. My relation with writing is something unexplainable. It has been 2 years since when this talent was passed on to me from a friend of mine who left writing.
I am not yet published but I look forward to having my book published someday. In the end, I’d thank my friend for what I am today.
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You are yellow to me. Sunny, happy, bright. But sometimes, A little too bright. A little piercing. A little blinding. Yellow speaks of caution, To slow down. But sometimes, We see a yellow light And go even faster. A little too fast. In the right shades, In the right amounts, In the right places, You are calming. Reminding me of how real And vibrant everything is. Keeping me grounded In yellow. Yellow is beautiful. In the right light, You are golden, You are soft. In the right light, You are harsh, You are reflective Of everything I don't want to see In myself. You are a highlighter. Pointing out the information I need most. But sometimes I get a bit carried away With my highlighter. Sometimes I look down, And an entire page is yellow. You are overwhelming and Underwhelming and not A single bit Too yellow. Not A single bit Too much. Because you are you. You are yellow. And you are wonderful, And scary, And bright, And soft, And perfect. And I love you, And I thank you, For being yellow.
Olivia Weeden
I’m from Saratoga Springs NY and am a student at Saratoga Springs High School. I love to read and write, and music is also something I’m very passionate about. I love to play cello and am in a quartet and a youth symphony in addition to being a part of my school’s chamber orchestra.
I have also worked part time at a flower farm for the past two years. Writing is something I’ve loved for as long as I can remember, and I am often inspired by the people and places I hold dear. Although it is only a hobby for me at the moment, I hope I can use writing in a much greater capacity in my future.
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At night the moon pulls at something in your blood like it does the tides, an embrace by the heavens that sense the stardust in your veins.
Ryan Flett
My name is Ryan and I live in Colton, Oregon. I work as a registered nurse, but I also have a degree in English from Portland State University. I’ve always loved writing, but this year I finally decided to make a go of it.
My writing mostly focuses on our connection with nature. Some of my favorite poets include Mary Oliver and Charles Wright. I’m hoping to self-publish my first collection of poems in the near future.
When I’m not reading or writing my heart out, I’m frequently playing with my two dogs, enjoying a cup of coffee, working on computer programming projects, playing Dungeons and Dragons, or hanging out down at the local record store.
I frequently post original poems on Twitter. You can follow me @ryanwritespoems
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Awe struck by the breathtaking magical scenery that lay before me, Boarded the double decker ferry that floated along the shiny clear waves of the blue sea. Clothed myself with a red rain poncho as I scurried through the queue, To experience the beauty of the natural wonder that painted an iconic view.
My body rocked as the boat swayed to the crashing waves of the river, The freezing water trickled on my face, sending me a little shiver. The foggy mist clouded the entire vast area and suddenly wrapped around my eyes, Became frightened of the loud thundering sound, which actually unraveled an astonishing surprise.
The incredible divine beauty of the Niagara Falls ascended while the sparkling mist faded away, My eyes beamed with joy at the sight of the historic amazement which lay at the heart of Canada and USA. The ferry smoothly slithered through the rapid current of the aquarium-blue whitewater, beneath the rainbow bridge. As the raging torrent of 80,000 gallons of water forcefully tumbled down the basalt mountain ridge.
The two deafening waterfalls plummeted downward, pounding the edge of the metamorphic rock formation, Sprays of liquid silver water splashed into the depths of the paradisiacal pool, transforming into a foam of lather with shiny crystallization. It was a moment of bliss and serenity as the ferry cruised along the varnish clear pool, Which looked like a curtain draped with distinct threads of silky blue satin and shined brightly like an expensive glass jewel.
As the excursion came to an end and the steamboat docked along the shore, Stood there, speechless at the sight of the mystical beauty which I’ve never seen in my life before. Infatuated by the mesmerizing God given wonder, my eyes suddenly dazzled red, orange, green, and blue. The vivid colors of the translucent rainbow arched gracefully through the dreary sky, bleeding a palette of prismatic shades which saturated the horizon with a crimson hue.
The humming of the ferry’s horn gradually subsided, realizing that I just couldn’t take my eyes off of the heavenly falls that was sparkling at a distance. As I took my last step to board off the ferry, I leaned over my shoulder one last time to witness the eternal existence. The beauty of the Niagara Falls etched into my soul as the magic followed me all the way home. As months passed by, the phenomenal journey was just unforgettable, leaving traces of memories which looked exquisite even in shades of monochrome.
Veena Ramaswamy
Veena is a simple, fun loving, & ambitious person, raised in the nation’s capital of Washington DC. She graduated from Boston University, with a Masters in CIS and Data Analytics.
Her main principle in life is to work hard, be humble, be yourself, and follow your dreams! She is also an avid learner and a creative thinker. She has a passion for exploring new things and leveraging her talents and skills.
She has loved writing since childhood and is one of her fave hobbies apart from drawing, nature photography, dancing, blogging, etc. She is also a lifestyle blogger and has her own blog called Beyoutiful. She has also published other poems in Brown Girl Magazine and Nature Writing Magazine.
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In another life we walk the streets in daylight side by side holding hands
In another life we celebrate our love every waking moment we can
In another life I am your woman you are my man
In another life
Nikki C Mercer
Nikki C Mercer is a wordsmith residing in Adelaide Australia. She manages a family, a financial career and a passion for creative writing.
Nikki’s pursuits include endurance running, eating way too much sugar and experiencing the depth of life. Nikki is co-author of The Thing Between Us and is published in a number of anthologies worldwide. Connect with Nikki on Instagram by searching for handle: ImagineExploreCreate
As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases at no extra cost to you. This site contains affiliate links to products. We may receive a commission for purchases made through these links. For more information, see my disclosures here.