Prose

Beneath The Gasping Blue
Beneath the gasp of wave and sky, Where sun forgets to send its cry, I fell, not drifting—dragged by weight, As though the sea recalled my fate.
By That ‘Freedom’ Guy7 months ago in Poets
Narcissistic
Why can’t you be more like Narcissus? With a pretty face to better hide your pettiness. Inspiring the love of nymphs and the worship you so desperately feed on. Instead you rent bodies and throw cash around to paper over their disgust. Echo would have been one of your favored brides. Only able to repeat the vile things spilling from your mouth. Why can’t you be more like Narcissus? Waste away staring at your reflection. Leave a hole we might fill in with peace. Instead, we the lake are forced to reflect your ugliness. Oh. I see. If you were Narcissus, bloated fish would float in putrescence. The better to reflect your ugliness. Rotten deer carcasses, vultures draped like death shrouds, would decorate the shore. Your poisonous flower, orange and indigestible. Their last and desperate meal.
By Sean A.7 months ago in Poets
Cindy, the CarSitter, is a Genius!
I just heard the most amazing thing on the News. Eureka and halelujah, I've waited over 50 years to get excited and rewarded for listening to the news anchors. Life can still surprise me and that is brilliantly satisfying. What was it, you ask? Oh, I'm sorry you missed it, but I will share. Yes, this morning on the news, the best news I've heard in too long. Cindy the Genius has solved a major problem with her incredibly sharp mind and entreprenuerial spirit. I'm almost envious at her genius, but I'm too happy and grateful for her idea to feel envy.
By Shanon Angermeyer Norman7 months ago in Poets
The White Demon
It came at dusk, when fire was low— that whisper through the winter snow. A flicker first, a curl of charm, no sword in hand, no show of harm.
By That ‘Freedom’ Guy7 months ago in Poets
Dreamland
Moon in Pisces Dreamland Astral drifting You on my mind Neptune is retro Pressing rewind Stopping and starting Thoughts on repeat
By Jennidoll of (jennidoll.inc)7 months ago in Poets
POEM - Born Of Earth And Light
I was born of earth and light, Where soil and sun in secret write The name of all who walk the land, Molded by dust, shaped by hand.
By Jacky Kapadia7 months ago in Poets
The Cold Wide-Eyed Stare of MAGA women. Top Story - July 2025. Content Warning.
The Cold-Eyed Stare & Sweetie’s Song Executive Producer: Sweetie Bird (Tray-top Oracle & Blink Director) Spoken-Word & Direction: Vicki (Storyteller, Satirist, Soul Sculptor)
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 7 months ago in Poets
Soudtracks & Wing Beats
“Memory drives. Wingbeats rise. This is where the soundtrack swells.” SOUNDTRACKS AND WINGBEATS Sometimes my mom and dad visit me.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 7 months ago in Poets
Calming, Velvet
I am a calming, velvet couch Fern leaning westward Flaccid cigarette hanging like Two-ton arms Hold yourself with cemetery’s
By Olivia Dodge7 months ago in Poets
The Fine Art of Not Exploding
I am a masterpiece of self-control, a walking seminar on emotional regulation, a hard-earned PhD in keeping my mouth shut when Brad from accounting explains why he can't use the printer for the seventeenth time this week.
By S. Marcus7 months ago in Poets
The Art of Keeping My Mouth Shut
It takes practice, this quiet. Years of it. Like calligraphy— but done on the inside of the cheek. A delicate craft,
By S. Marcus7 months ago in Poets
THE DREAM OF ODYSSEY
This chapter wasn’t planned: it was remembered. Rediscovered, like a lost track humming beneath the static. Sweetie Bird speaks again, not in dialogue but in echo. Her voice, layered and pulsing through forgotten software and half-lit memories, becomes the heartbeat of this cinematic interlude.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 7 months ago in Poets