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 day I Went Cat Fishing
The day I Went Cat Fishing I went out cat fishing, full of cheer, Thought I would land something out here. Rod in my hand, I gave it a swing,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 7 months ago in Poets
Herne The Hunter
Introduction This is my hundredth piece inspired by Angie Livingstone's amazing and mystical artwork. This is a Dizain "The Art Of The Glittering Fox" is now available worldwide on your local Amazon store.
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred 7 months ago in Poets
Paper Bag Poet,
The Paper Bag Poet from YouTube I am not your polished screen glow, not your filtered face, not your perfect lie, I am a bag pulled over breath and bone,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 7 months ago in Poets
The Lady and the Rose
The Lady and the Rose She did not speak, yet the silence listened, her face a fragile ruin of something once whole, closed eyes holding storms beneath stillness,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 7 months ago in Poets
The Weight of an Inch
I looked at my finger, a thin, pale line against the air. Just one inch of space between me and the glass that broke. I am a man of character,
By Hazrat Umer7 months ago in Poets
Self First, Partnership Second
Choose the lifestyle you want first, then choose your partner. The prerequisite for happiness isn't meeting someone; it is having the ability to build a good life for yourself. Frankly, the life you live now reflects your aspirations for the future. When you have the ability to manage your own life well, you’ll naturally understand what kind of person you can truly live with.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharing7 months ago in Poets
The Sound of No One
I sat in the middle of the room, listening to the clock eat the seconds. It is a hungry sound, the way time bites into the silence.
By Hazrat Umer7 months ago in Poets
The Tea That Poisoned the Poet
The Tea That Poisoned the Poet The cup was waiting, still as a held breath, resting on pages that whispered in ink, a quiet invitation dressed in warmth,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 7 months ago in Poets
Cold Room at the Top of the Stairs
Cold Room at the Top of the Stairs There is a room above the house, where warmth refuses to stay inside, no matter how long the fire burns,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 7 months ago in Poets
The Next Right Thing
The coolest dude I ever met, the one man who taught me more than anyone, * was named Diego Mondragon. * I met him on a train called the Texas Eagle,
By David Muñoz7 months ago in Poets
The Knock After Midnight
The Knock After Midnight It begins when the house forgets sound, when even breathing feels too loud, and the dark settles properly in,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 7 months ago in Poets
Dementia
old photos whisper names roll away like dropped coins I pocket what's left
By Tina D. Lopez7 months ago in Poets