Prose

Seven Deadly Sins
Pride Selfie, Selfish, Self-importance Always looking in the mirror and not where you're going Never giving credit where credit is due
By Ellie Hoovs11 months ago in Poets
Heartbeats of the Tide
Heartbeats of the Tide 1. The ocean hums a restless song, A rhythm deep, both fierce and strong. Its silver waves rise, crest, and fall,
By Matthew.11 months ago in Poets
Trespass
Taking a trespass in the woods 🌲 Exploring natural wonders all around me 🌳 Sneaking, hoping I won’t get caught ❄️ Watching as the snowflakes come down
By Mother Combs11 months ago in Poets
Heartsong
I sing the song of my mother her love and her steadfast hands always crafting and baking and memory making turning in to my best friend.
By Ellie Hoovs11 months ago in Poets
Ocean Vuong: A Poetic Voice of Intimacy, Loss, and Resilience
Early Life and Influences Born in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam, in 1988, Vuong immigrated to the United States with his family as a child. His upbringing in a working-class immigrant household in Hartford, Connecticut, played a crucial role in shaping his literary voice. Growing up, he was drawn to storytelling, especially as a way to bridge the cultural and linguistic gaps between himself and the world around him. He learned English at a later age, and this delayed acquisition of language informs much of his work, particularly his fascination with words, their meanings, and their limitations.
By Mr Ali12 months ago in Poets
Midnight Hour
With alabaster skin reflecting the starlight ⭐ Beauty walks in the midnight hour ✨ Hair as dark as the night 🌟 Waves cascading down her slim back
By Mother Combs12 months ago in Poets
Brave New Girl
I heard many killers write manifestos. Well. I killed my past. I'm killing this blouse. I kill when I write, So here's mine:
By Mezmur12 months ago in Poets
Love this Country. Content Warning.
The history of our land has not always been grand Since Christopher Columbus wrecked the land Then called it’s natives, outside of their name
By Cadma12 months ago in Poets
The Shadows are Speaking
You think I’m crazy because you don’t hear them you’ve never made friends with your ghosts. It’s amazing what you can see
By Ellie Hoovs12 months ago in Poets
"A RED ROSE FOR MY LATE POPPA VIC". Top Story - February 2025. Content Warning.
Today I 'reflected back' to September 1996. The story is written by me, a 75-year-old woman. However, the video reflects views of an older woman and as a young girl who was always their daddy’s little girl. February 14, 2025, is a day of reflection. My conclusion is now and always was, “My Poppa was my dearest and most caring Valentine a girl could wish for. Happy Valentine’s Day!
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 12 months ago in Poets
John Milton's Heaven Misplaced
Book I & II: Satan's Disobedience and Commotion The sonnet opens in medias res, after Satan and his revolt blessed messengers have been cast out of Paradise taking after their fizzled resistance against God. They discover themselves in Hell, a destroy and searing put where they rally beneath Satan's administration. Milton portrays Satan as a effective, charismatic figure, full of resistance and desire. His popular statement, “Better to rule in Hell than serve in Heaven,” captures his pride and assurance.
By Mr Ali12 months ago in Poets
Ode to the Future from the Past
I held onto dreams that wouldn't be good. Let the fester and simmer, until they imploded. Do we let them go? To die with time?
By Rachael Anra12 months ago in Poets