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.
"About Change"
Change comes at a snail's pace. The kind that matters, anyway. It's easy to be impatient. To get fed up. To say that things will always be the same.
Michael WolfePublished 5 years ago in PoetsPoker Face
That mischievous smirk. Those warm memories stuck in our time, flashing in my own mind. That same old belly-laugh that rings in my ears,
Candice RosePublished 5 years ago in PoetsAspie and Fanguin
After a while, I get Gavin Degraw’s message Of being two souls in one. I sometimes feel like two different people: Good and evil
Monique StarPublished 5 years ago in PoetsThe Circle of Life
Encircled by the roundabout of what life could bring. The beginning changes like an outburst of spring. No wonder no one can tell the end of what lies ahead in life.
Thomas MabasoPublished 5 years ago in PoetsJin-Long: Legend of the Golden Dragon
His scales are dark, streaks of silver of negative emotions, scars above his face, tell his past with each cut Its emotion is hidden in fire
V-Ink StoriesPublished 5 years ago in PoetsDreams & Visions
What's the difference between a dream and a vision Ambition A decision Fact or fiction Getting down and putting in work
Micah DavidsonPublished 5 years ago in Poets“Friends.”
For some sad reason, I will always feel alone. No matter how hard I’ll try to hang out with friends or trying to communicate with them. I will always feel alone. Sometimes I don’t, but those are rare days. I always stay up until the early morning which usually is 5 AM. To make sure if a friend needed me, I was here. To talk, to make sure they have someone that’s listening or to just cry while everything is crumbling. I know the feeling, but nobody is there for me. In my dark room with nothing shining but the cars passing by. So quiet but the sirens from the fire station behind the house. It was just me and my thoughts. My thoughts are just roaming around. I think of fantasy when my dark thoughts come in, but it just keeps shoving and shoving all the goodness out of it. Your friends don’t care for you. No matter how hard you tried to be there for them. They’re never going be there for you. Cause they’ll don’t understand how you feel. I’lltry to shake it off. It’s late at night I should sleep. I need to catch sleep in a race. I’m almost running out of breath and it’s still ahead of me. I lost. My father alarm will go off always at 3:30 AM for he could get ready to leave to his work. I could hear him walking up and down the stairs to make sure he got everything. So badly, I want to go out and tell him. I can’t sleep because...because I feel lonely. I feel like nobody will care if I don’t wake up. Nobody will care if I stay in my room all day and only come out just to use the bathroom. I hear him starting his coffee machine. Him stirring his milk and sugar in his cup. I could hear him sighing when his second alarm went off to tell him it’s time to leave. I could hear the dishes falling into the sink. His loud footsteps making it to the door and the creaks of the porch as he’s walking off. The starting of the engine and his car passes by. Once again, I am alone with my dark friends.
Don’t Fall for Me
Love is a very confusing and a wonderful feeling. I must give a word of caution. I’ve had tainted love. Misunderstood love.
Scarlett PricePublished 5 years ago in PoetsAn Idle Mind Is the Devil’s Workshop
An idle mind is the devil’s workshop. Into the idiots: neurosis. Staring out into nothing in particular, just forward, ruminating.
Troi SpeaksPublished 6 years ago in PoetsTrade It All
In each transaction made, The buyer and the seller smile. In each effort to make a trade The mutual returns go on for more than a mile.
Skyler SaundersPublished 6 years ago in PoetsMillennial Chant
I wanted to savor that one last sip of evil before they washed away it all and we walked hand in hand, heart in heart, into the futures call. I may be deranged in contrast to the norm but on my birthday an idiot wasn't born, least not into my body. I'd lobby my soul and being as a whole into synchronized direction as soon as certain was certain, I'm not a lesser kind of person. I won't belabor that fact, evil is the way I used to act, used to, used to, now I'm in with our new do. The archaic, we all betray it, try and teach us some farce we've got google to correct you in the pocket near our arse. Least most of us, wouldn't trust a front pocket phone carrying type, and the hip clip is some dinosaur shit, the kids have got it sewn & stitched, some maybe a thin skin bitch, but we know we've flipped the switch, least a few of us see the traces, the new common places, the sources of info, the dinosaurs barely know how to make go, we'll search any opinion you hold too strongly that we don't think belongs see, we're past listening to an old dumbass, keen on knowing exactly what he's seen, that closed loop is brain poop, the old jaded with the minds outdated are traded for open minds in these ever so open times. I can talk to a man in Japan in ten seconds flat, you had to wait ten days for a horse to hand a letter to where your wife be at. Ain't knocking the hooves and scrolls, just not gonna let these minds inclined to troll take control. On some spiritual shit, they might die and comeback to an understanding that had they now would have them have a heart attack, and that's just a plausible intertwined with overstanding. The truth the youth are demanding. I'm telling you hand in hand, heart in heart we are the new art. Accessibility, virility and departing from the pasts futility. The stage is set, what we don't want we forget, no long sought battles to dismiss what deserves but a cheek kiss as abyss swallows it and all it's uselessness. I'm telling you take faith in this youthfulness. The old's outnumbered, thirty percent shift, were causing a rift. Millennial's and those from the age of the internet are here to let the better and the best in, our numbers out number the dinosaur age of slumber, governments are being trolled, political systems dysfunctional and old. The end of anything looks like the worst of everything. Maniacs, morons, lunatics and dipshits have no more pawns. We're sitting this one out, we'll watch them scream and shout but they're not what we're about. New love, new systems, the old ones we on't miss them. Now enough of the beauty becoming, it's still yet to be seen and cemented in place, but it's a feeling if you feel to feel and embrace.
Mr. KUTZKYPublished 6 years ago in PoetsExploit
Imagine if, in the black community, there were no schools. And a certain few taught themselves to read (wink)... Says a man to a man,
She ChantsPublished 6 years ago in Poets