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.

The Passage of Time (Based on Shakespeare Sonnet 19)
Time, a river flowing ever ceaselessly. Waiting to drown you in the dark abyss. Hang on for dear life as you make your peace,
By Jeremiah Ellison5 years ago in Poets
That Dang Video Buffering
I was sitting down on my chair waiting for my video to load. As I was sitting down on my chair waiting for my video to load,
By Jeremiah Ellison5 years ago in Poets
Myself
The path isn’t always clear With many twists and turns Life goes on Even if you fall behind As a child, I created a world
By Jeremiah Ellison5 years ago in Poets
Darkness Plays the PS2
What is this thing? I fail to see how it furthers our goals. Put in the disc? What disc? Destroy all humans 2? Is this some sort of weapon of mass destruction?
By Jeremiah Ellison5 years ago in Poets
I’m not a walking trash can
One of the most annoying things a customer can do is either hand you their trash at the drive-through or ask you to throw it away.
By Arap5 years ago in Poets
A Grownup-Little-Girl’s Heart
You’re no longer a part of this world Where we live and breath Laugh and sing And cry. But did you know I loved you?
By Riley Luviek5 years ago in Poets
The Dystopian Locket
If the prayers of the past, were answered today, What was the vision seen, from the prayers that have been “preyed? The uncertainty of death, the mysteries of the void are vast,
By Jeremiah Jones5 years ago in Poets
Your hell
sober one day, the next day lost, we all have our vices and with each comes a cost. the cost of a loved one, the cost of a friend, the cost of waisted time creeping closer to the end.
By Sheray lynn5 years ago in Poets
The Blue Forest
The Blue Forest The forest is dark and damp drenched in a ghostly shade of blue as I silently creep closer when a bridge comes into view
By Robin Edwards5 years ago in Poets
Her eye's are blue
Her eyes are blue My eye's are brown. Her blue eye's represent the sea My brown eye's represent the ground. I've always hated my eyes And wished that hers were mine
By Petunia5 years ago in Poets
Working Through Writer's Burnout
LIMERICK FROM A FOOGY MIND There once was a fellow quite witty Who wrote poetry so pretty. But then life made him terse, he lost control of his verse, Now isn’t that more the pity?
By Stu E5 years ago in Poets
Anti-Cosmic
Anti-Cosmic I I am not a living star, illuminating the cosmos with it’s warm and vivacious light; nor am I a cold memory of a shadow, a silent revenant in mourning, offering it’s tears as ashes to the earth; I am not a happy thing coming undone, following the betrayal of my lover having flown and fled.
By Aurora Giselle5 years ago in Poets