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.

Political Twenty-Eight
You know what I think? This is the Turning Point. We have lost the plot. Be aware... * Thank you for reading! If you liked this, you can add your Insights, Comment, leave a Heart, Tip, Pledge, or Subscribe. I will appreciate any support you have shown for my work.
By Kendall Defoe about a year ago in Poets
Price of Liberty
A single shot across the stage, not from a battlefield, but a campus wall. The crowd gasped … some in grief, others in silence,
By Cadmaabout a year ago in Poets
BLIND LOYALTY
A mythic tale of blind loyalty, corrupt charisma, and the descent into unadulterated evil not as a political exposé, but as a fable, a warning, a ceremonial reckoning.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli about a year ago in Poets
The Laugh of Summer
The Laugh of Summer Morning cracked wide, and the grass wore its jewels. Children ran with open hands. Chasing air. Chasing each other.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
Pivot
The hill does not move, yet I feel it lean. Gravel holds its hush, the way a secret leans forward before it breaks. Air gathers like cloth
By Farhanabout a year ago in Poets
Do these thoughts reflect a universal truth?
I've always loved a quote: "I used persistence to burn away all my childishness and willfulness. From that wilderness, I slowly grew rationality, indifference, and clarity." Reading it, I was truly silent for a long time. Because every moment of growth is like this: you set the fire yourself, burning away the naive and simple-minded self of the past, leaving behind the quiet and slightly colder person you are today.
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharingabout a year ago in Poets
With My Last Breath
With My Last Breath With my last breath, I will speak your name, a softness lingering in the stillness, a tender reminder of all we have shared,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
Eternal Echoes of the Titanic
Beneath the stars, upon the endless sea, Two hearts found what fate denied to be. Jack’s laughter danced through the gilded air,
By Life Hopesabout a year ago in Poets
The Hour Between Knuckles
The turn does not announce itself. It flickers— a pulse where the map folds, a throat clearing in a language I nearly remember.
By Marcus Hillabout a year ago in Poets
Emily Dickinson
She walked — alone — among the Sun and Frost — Counting Hours — like Petals — falling — one by one — The World — a distant Bell —
By Tim Carmichaelabout a year ago in Poets
Fallen Angel
Fallen Angel In the shadows where she used to roam, Beneath the glimmer of a silver moon, An angel fell, grace lost, heart turned to stone,
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
The Child Of Tomorrow
The Child Of Tomorrow A child holds a seed in her palm. Small as a whisper. She gazes at it with patience older than her years.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets