Poetic Philosophy

WINTER WHISPERS: A Community Collection

During the last days of December, we all think of the past year and the year to come. Within the heart of the winter, our inner thoughts come to the surface, whispering in silence all the things that will come…

We invite you to share those whispers with us. Submit your poem to be featured in our official “Winter Whispers” digital collection on the Poetic Philosophy portal.

No costs. No competition. Just pure expression.

Let your words be the light for someone else this winter.

Poems Submitted

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Sun rise, sun crossed.

Another beautiful day

~ Brian Skelley

Spring Explodes

The earth is one and not two
And here on earth where I found you
we only have this chance

Politics looks at me
with its crooked eye
like an old ferret
and work always wakes up with a groan
like an expired love

but when in spring
the flowers outside the windows
turn slowly into fruits
it would be good to enjoy them together
Let their juices
slip carefree over our delicate breasts

Otherwise the fruits wither
and we alone think and struggle

~ Bill Hunchback

618

The beaches in the middle of winter

smell the rocks above them

that emit no smell at all.

The wind carries away seaweed, pebbles

and a farewell scarf.

It’s the tide that afterwards

changes everything.

~ Gelly Ntilia

The road

It is a challenge as a gift.
It is more than enlightened.
The road to the dreams is stiffed
but full of wonders and desires.
It is a self estimed project,
it is awareness within the day.
It is more than un object,
it is the only right way.
The road leads to the stars,
it is a perfect line ahead.
The road to the dreams is like a bar
which is built in wonder land.

~ Dessy Tsvetkova

Lethe

Heaven descends within reachable grasp
Slithering snakes and blindfolded followers
Voices from beyond relay and echo each other .
First dawn on the river of Lethe.

Thoughts bleed into one other
a withered leaf in reappearing days.
Scented luxury of a willing blindness
Vistas past on the peripheries of my vision.

A former moment to reoccur in a distracted gaze
Disertic sands of a lasting present moment.
An eternal instant, it stirs me to respond:
“ This is not an ending”.

Alive and yet still a doll
thick watered river in cogs and wheels
a shape that lifts and disperses
as it should

in the dark

~ Evi Platitsa

Blessings

I found my self in a wild
and distant shore
waves and sounds all around

Hidden secrets in the sells
as corals lying by the sand
A blessed day !

~ Xrisoula Papavasiliou

U N I Q U E

The Earth now shines in snowy, radiant white,
Snowflakes are dancing softly through the sky.
And whiteness brings a sense of cleansing light,
Washing the soul where hidden sorrows lie.

One snowflake gently reached my waiting shoulder,
It stilled—and just before it slipped away,
Confessed to me a truth both warm and bolder:
“Look—unique as me, you are,” it seemed to say.

No two snowflakes here are ever the same,
Yet joined, they form the carpet soft and bright.
Your DNA, a diagram of flame,
A unique code—unmatched in form and light.

“You too are one of kind, the same as I,
But now I turn to just a drop of rain.”
It whispered truthfully, just passing by:
“In life, be sure to leave a lasting trace.”

That I am unique—I truly know today,
A snowflake was the one who told me so.
Within my endless light-code, faraway,
The sky reveals its wisdom, soft and slow.

~ Radka Lyulyakova

Whispers

In the silence,
the breath of winter is heavy and
the windows fog up.
In the corners of its cold landscape,
the words that were not spoken,
the dreams that froze,
the wounds that were not healed begin to gather timidly.
But winter kept them imprisoned
under the snow.
And these became forgotten shadows and
fell into hibernation.
But memory did not forget them.
It whispered softly to awaken
the forgotten dreams,
the unspoken secrets.
But the wind stole the whispers and
confessed them to Spring.
And that spark of fire ignites and
transforms the whispers into seeds of life,
so that the light that will melt the ice of winter may emerge.

~ Bania Sofia

Stateless Outis

“My name is Nobody. Nobody I am called by mother, father, and by all my comrades.”*

I am Outis, a nowhere citizen
nowhere a home, nowhere a country.
Surviving this branded time
ignominy stalked me,

to escape death, I fled
with nothing but my blood
to identify me.

Stateless fears,
I have a language, I have a culture
but no nation as identity, I run, innocent,
to keep my sanity.

I get busted between borders
my bones are broken in this buffer zone
the bane of nomads.

Statistics ignore stateless counts,
Outis’ secret wish
is to relish being part this fair society,
she wants protection from cipher assumption

to take away the “less” in stateless
Outis will slave in a host land
until she comes to nothing,

dependable
nobody,
an unrecorded death,
She never made it to the statistics.

*line 366 of Homer’s Odyssey

~ Karine Leno Ancellin