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.

In It to Win It
In It to Win It She lit a cigarette and smiled cards on the table her car in the pot eyes fixed on the one at the head the boss with the gold watch
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
Before and After
The coffee cup fell at exactly 9:47 AM on a Tuesday. I know this because I was staring at the digital clock on my computer screen, counting down the minutes until my performance review with Mr. Henderson. My hands were trembling—not from caffeine, but from the speech I'd been rehearsing for weeks. Today was the day I would finally ask for the promotion I deserved, the raise that would let me move out of my studio apartment, maybe even start that photography side business I'd been dreaming about since college.
By Muhammad Sabeelabout a year ago in Poets
Why We Keep the Letters We’ll Never Send
The drawer was jammed again. I yanked at it, muttering under my breath, and a thin cascade of envelopes slid forward, fanning across the floor like pale autumn leaves. They smelled faintly of paper and time—slightly yellowed, edges curling inward, some stained with coffee rings or thumb-smudges.
By Muhammad Sabeelabout a year ago in Poets
Extinguishing Andúril
Gondor called for aid But all the cards had been played No one rode out Because Gondor had alienated all of Middle Earth
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
The Killing Games
The Killing Games It began with laughter in the dark a sound that cut through the air like glass shadows stretching too long on the ground
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
Living Alone
Living Alone These are the things I can do because I am living all alone no one to answer to but me no noise to break the quiet room
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
A Good Start
You smiled at me I felt warmth in my face. You approached slowly. I felt my heart race. * You told me your name, and I told you mine.
By Julie Lacksonenabout a year ago in Poets
When Love Hurts: Is It Truly Love?
Sometimes, because we love someone deeply, we allow the harm they cause to happen. We might even believe that's just part of love. But love should never be exchanged for humility. We shouldn't have to suffer trauma repeatedly or doubt our own worth. If that's truly love, why does it demand so much patience from us?
By Emily Chan - Life and love sharingabout a year ago in Poets
The Locksmith Legend
The Locksmith Legend They said he carried the keys of night a ring so heavy it bent his hand each one cold with a different tale
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
The Stranger Who Looked Twice
The Stranger Who Looked Twice He passed me once his gaze sliding like rain on glass fast enough to vanish yet warm enough to notice
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets
The Being to be hold
‎The little wanderer crawled on the earth ‎A living world bloomed within him after his birth ‎Radiant and alone like the sun ‎A dream has just begun ‎Long paths held no claim on his heart ‎The presence is the purest art ‎ ‎Now the little wanderer will run on his feet ‎His steps will crush every grain of the land ‎The tender roots of flowers will burn by his fleet ‎The lonely sun will be surrounded by stars in the sand
By Karan w. about a year ago in Poets
The Man Who Knocked Twice
The Man Who Knocked Twice They said a man once lived alone in the house at the end of the lane. A locksmith by trade, though not the kind who worked for neighbours.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk about a year ago in Poets