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.

Eye to Eye with the Skyline
I am awake, but softly. My door is open, the fan blows steadily, it’s late, or early, the atmosphere is fuzzy and warm. The blanket sticks to my back.
By Jamie Ramsay3 years ago in Poets
Hall Mark
I am the main character of my own original movie and I'm improvising every scene I capture moments of monologue transcribe them into works of semi-art.
By Tiffanie Harvey3 years ago in Poets
From the Basement Steps
Our Father, The Man Upstairs, Morning Gardener, Cigar-smoking Pilot-provider, Evening Farmer. My dad, the man downstairs,
By J W Knopf3 years ago in Poets
Dream or Reality
I couldn’t move. The only thing appendage that did what the rest of me couldn’t, Were my eyes. Scanning the room, I could feel the cold drifting under my blanket.
By Taylor Richardson3 years ago in Poets
Another One in the Books
I ended my shift at one in the morning, a brick of moneris slips in my hand. My heart deflated and dripped down my body alongside the sweat.
By Jamie Ramsay3 years ago in Poets
My password's past
I sat at my desk, staring at the screen My hands hover over the keyboard, feeling extreme Frustration and annoyance at this tedious task
By Janice Daily3 years ago in Poets
Tug of Love
I think am alone, until another comes. I say, "not yet". You say, "okay", but you push my limits, pulling a rope I hold in my hands slowly and gradually so you can pull me closer to you. I've not felt an attraction like this from someone--someone I don't feel the same about. I don't even realize I'm beginning to fall and starting to accept you until I have to take a step forward to forfend a face-plant. Something's, not right.
By Laura K Zielinski3 years ago in Poets
just me
there's me. there's me and you. there's me and you and we are in a boat, sailing up a mountain to see the tornado derby.
By Rachel Rose3 years ago in Poets
JENNY HOLZER 1991
JENNY HOLZER 1991 in a dream you fucked my revived corpse and you were full of empty. rigor mortis tender, no recognition, no regard. face down and wishing on dead stars that i could return to the soil that gathers neath my fingernails. how are these yellowing calcium crescents, so delicate, so fragile, a reminder of something so solid as death. is death solid? no, the ether’s veil doesn’t last. i resurrect every time. yes, lucid i’m here again with your dry palm on my deaf ear holding me down to the filthy sheet in a musty room full and empty. full and empty. full and empty. lovelessness.
By K. Smith3 years ago in Poets
Next Stop
I always dream I chase a train station As if my life depended on the ride Hoping the next stop is a safe haven But knowing the narrow tracks are no guide
By Ann G.3 years ago in Poets
The Creatures of Torment
Inception, Resurrection I lay me down to sleep Trickle de trot Counting lost sheep. Where is this, I ask Sleep solid shifting forms Mattress to city A nightmare is born.
By Lakrisha Raymond3 years ago in Poets
Dream the dream
I had a dream so strange and wild A world unlike any I had seen Where colors swirled and shapes defied And logic seemed to cease to be
By Shamz 4203 years ago in Poets