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 Falling Star
The Falling Star It burned across a restless, watching sky, A wound of light that split the breath of night, No wish was made, I only stood and watched,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 7 months ago in Poets
Late Stage Emo Phase
Always been partial to Nu Metal pissed But there’s more than one way to ball up your fist My current playlist Less Limp Bizkit
By Aaron Morrison7 months ago in Poets
It’s Not Over Till I Say So
It’s Not Over Till I Say So You thought the silence meant I walked away, That I had laid my voice down in the dust, You mistook stillness for a final end,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 7 months ago in Poets
A Love as Rich as Honey
Zipping past On their way Really fast No time for play Busy busy bee Flying around You and me Each flower bound Collecting pollen
By Mother Combs7 months ago in Poets
Dear Neighbour, You’re a Bitch to Take My Man
Dear Neighbour, You’re a Bitch to Take My Man Dear neighbour, I have watched you at my gate, That careful smile that never reached your eyes,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 7 months ago in Poets
To Be Chosen, Not Needed
Mature love isn’t about saying, "I can't live without you." Many people believe that love is synonymous with dependence—the feeling of being unable to survive without someone else. It's the kind of story that starts with:
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharing7 months ago in Poets
Time Folded Twice
I fall asleep in 2026, a 76 year old woman with a lifetime behind my eyes. When I open them again, I’m standing on the Cal State LA campus in 1978.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 7 months ago in Poets
The Up And Downs
a second chance the second glance a failed attempt at true romance the broken glass the fumbled pass to accept, alas that love won't last
By Kelli Sheckler-Amsden7 months ago in Poets
Brain Washed by Disaster
Brain Washed by Disaster It did not happen all at once, It came in waves that wore me down, A slow erasing, a careful undoing,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 7 months ago in Poets
Where Smoke Became the Sky, 1800’s
Where Smoke Became the Sky, 1800’s The city did not sleep at all, it turned both night and day, With wheels that ground against the stone, and would not fade away.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 7 months ago in Poets
The Future is Waiting
Most heartbreak isn't due to the loss of happiness, but rather the disillusionment of unrealized expectations. The happiness you couldn't bear to let go of—
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharing7 months ago in Poets
Hands That Could Not Rest, 1700’s
Hands That Could Not Rest, 1700’s The morning did not break with colour, it pressed in dull and low, Through narrow gaps in shuttered wood, where little light could go.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 7 months ago in Poets