Free Verse
I C A R U S. Top Story - July 2026.
I don't think Icarus laughed as he fell, But wept so violently at the injustice Of being brought down for excitement That the ants on the ground mistook it For the kind of arrogant laughter they Expected to bubble from his mouth. I think he realized it was a lose-lose Halfway up when the clouds dissolved And the beautiful, empty atmosphere Spread its dark, wide wings of blue. The stars were too vivid and the moon, Far too small to find any comfort. Icarus must've known when he turned Toward the wide world of flashing blue And saw nothing but jeering expressions That the flames devouring his wings Were going to be the death of him. He must've known he was falling. I think Icarus knew that the world had Nothing but an obvious hatred for the Lofty eagerness of his spirit and smile The way it liked to dance with the stars Tempted the sun to make love to him And irritated the entire world below. Icarus must have wept when he peered Out of the sky itself like a god, like a star , And seen nothing but a cold ocean of deceit Pooling in the jealousy eyes of one hundred Lovers laughing as he fell, wringing themselves Dry on the pleasure of watching his doom. What is so funny about a man who only Wanted to soar through the sky and touch The beautiful edges of the thing that warms Soil and sand and souls and casts gold Across tree leaves and tea leaves floating In a teacup like Icarus across currents of air? I would have wept if I looked out over a sea Of souls bound to mine with braided strings Made of grass and words of eternal compassion Only them burning in their eyes, ignited by sadism. So there is no way that Icarus laughed as he fell. Icarus wept and the world pretended it was laughter.
By Silver Daux4 months ago in Poets
Thriving, Not Surviving
Say It Again Challenge - Prompt: Write a satirical poem that repeats one line at least three times. Each time it appears, its meaning should shift or deepen. Repetition can sharpen a point or quietly undo it. Here, it needs to do both. Build your poem around a line that comes back at least three times. Each return should shift how it reads, shaped by what surrounds it and what’s already been said. By the final repetition, the line shouldn't land the way it did at the start.
By Denise E Lindquist4 months ago in Poets
Happier Than A Pig In A Less Than Ideal Situation
Dump it all in the trough It might be trash But it’s good trash My trash Scraps From the finest buffets in Vegas Fill up your plates Discard High quality waste I’m rolling around In the muck and the mud Forcing contented grunts And wagging my pink curly tail In feigned ignorance Knowing one day I’ll be turned into chops And sweet crispy bacon After a CO2 kiss And a stainless steel whacking Until then I’ll tear up forest floors Sniff out your truffles Though I’ve never liked fungi Or shrooms But any work Is good work And pigs like me Don’t get to choose
By Aaron Morrison4 months ago in Poets
Edge Shelf Incident
Content fell on floor; it might’ve had some lure. It sat on the edge of the shelf, and I was called by the Siren friend. Content fell on floor. I opened the fridge with Herculean force. I stood in the magnet blip as the spaghetti whipped its hair back and forth. Content fell on the floor. I hope you don’t pour rage on top of the cure. But for the love of shelves, don’t balance food on the Lotus edge. Because content fell on floor. I had just lifted weights, but that is not why your system failed. The fridge doesn’t know its strength. When I overhear you asking for the spaghetti trail, I hide behind my door. Content fell on the floor.
By Caitlin Charlton4 months ago in Poets
