fact or fiction
Is it fact or merely fiction? Fact or Fiction explores the myths and beliefs we hold about what makes a good poem and the poetry rules that were made to be broken.
Finding Light in Shadows
In the shadows of my youth, I stood, No role models, just misunderstood. No idols to guide, no paths to trace, Just lessons learned in life's embrace.
Shwet Prabha BaiswarPublished 7 days ago in PoetsChasing Freedom
Not chasing coins, nor riches untold, But the freedom that wealth can unfold. Two goals diverge, yet intertwined, In the pursuit of a life designed.
Shwet Prabha BaiswarPublished 7 days ago in PoetsThe Factory
I awoke in the white room, eyes revolting against the harsh light. Flashes of memory hit me, tumbling and sharp like glass in a kaleidoscope.
***Start/K***TRANSMISSION***
***START/K***TRANSMISSION*** -damn apes (when-will-enough-be) misfires, japes crisp id.eals mistakes, rapes -damn
Paul StewartPublished 8 days ago in Poets"The Quest for the Flame Crystal: Aria's Redemption"
Once upon a time in the magical land of Aranthia, there lived a young sorcerer named Aria. Aria had always been fascinated by the ancient art of fire magic, and she spent hours practicing spells in the enchanted forest near her home.
Angie’s Antics…
For: Poppy's Prompts #3: March Hot Humid day Emerald green sky… Maybe more hail on the way? What better time for a deep dive…
Angie the Archivist 📚🪶Published 8 days ago in PoetsEpilogue.
You are a fleeting thought And a passing comment A closed wound and A finished chapter ❀ You live your life like Fireworks too close to the ground
Gliding Into Spring
As the days get warmer and the nights get shorter * Flowers Bloom All over ******** The flowers peek out and the grass
Mother CombsPublished 8 days ago in PoetsBlue Cottom Heat
Blue silk and cotton, misshapen and elegant, the afternoon warmth.
James GreenPublished 8 days ago in PoetsBe your own muse
Deciphering the odyssey of the absolved glee, I traced the bounty trail of light that no one could see. Embracing the silence of darkness as the solitude danced in the hours of plight,
Hridya SharmaPublished 8 days ago in PoetsSnacks
(My novel The Half Paper Moon) He is dead Dead dead dead The man is dead I am dead Frozen in pomegranate panic Frozen in death that lives onward in sinew that stews
Melissa IngoldsbyPublished 8 days ago in PoetsMary
as god sought shelter from a world of hate, the priest led her to the collection plate. “Give what you seek and you shall find”
Kayleigh Fraser ✨Published 8 days ago in Poets