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.
Box Elder. Top Story - October 2026.
Box Elder Bugs We played with them when we were little. Holding them in our cupped hands and giggling as their legs tickled our palms. Then we released them. They swarmed a broken old tree that we called the Boxelder Bug Tree. Now They Fly everywhere Their wings illuminated by the afternoon sun Brown spots against the rays When I want to go inside - There she sits (or is it a he?) on the sliding door. She sees me examining her. Her eyes watch mine Watches my movements, on guard I just want her to get off the glass door so I can go in alone . She crawls to a crevice. Okay, game on, little critter! I move the door, and she comes out of the crevice, then she leaves, sensing my irritation. I won't squish her. She knows that I think Why aren't the tree frogs and the birds eating them? I realize that I'd rather have her flying around inside , than the damned fly that has zoomed for days. I even opened the door for a bit one day hoping the dumbass would leave. Nope, the fly is still there and very cagey, very quick. Maybe dumbass isn't the right term for a fly that's managed to hang around when I want him gone. Don't leave the door open, I told the hubby I keep telling him I don't care if it is hard to open the door with your hands full; don't leave it open, not even a few inches. Stop it. The boxelders are crawling on the house, walking on the windows, looking for an entry point. When my daughter was a baby, she slept in my room near a tall window draped in white sheer curtains. She screamed one day, my baby, and when I went to her, the boxelder bugs were all over the curtains and in her crib, surrounding and frightening her. They must have looked so big to her. The vacuum worked. As a toddler, I took her to a river with friends, and horseflies swirled around her, and she ran screaming, totally petrified, and freaked out. The box elder bugs had traumatized my girl. Keep the door shut. Examine the entry before you try to enter; shut. no door cracked open. look in the cracks watch out.
By Andrea Corwin 16 days ago in Poets
The Land Called October. Top Story - October 2026.
Weary footsteps through rain-soaked leaves Months of wandering have brought me here October — a land unlike any other Its diversity delights the wandering eye The coloured crowns of mighty trees The flowers in their blazing hues Cry, "Look at me!" before you pass.
By Henrik Hageland16 days ago in Poets
Vita In Discrimine
Today, I sipped my coffee Under orange leaf hues Listening to the endless rustling Of nature’s phoenix fire *** Why must decay reign For us to acknowledge The beauty held within A leaf so mundane? *** Foliage so full of fire Underscored by snap and crackle Assembled bodies Warmed by flame and wool *** A constant, latent chill Demands a libation A cider, a bourbon A paired stew, preferred in a cauldron *** Twirl amongst the skeletons Let shivered spines Be eternal reminders That thou art mortals *** So let us come honor This hallowed month Which, if we’re quite honest Wears the crown, in triumph
By Matthew J. Fromm16 days ago in Poets
