Prose

Wisdoms of Life
Before the light becomes midnight at the garden of decisions past Hold on tight to all that gives you happiness or a smile
By Jason Morton4 months ago in Poets
THE DREAM CRUSHERS
Written in a moment of frustration, The Dream Crushers is a raw reflection on the lifelong pressure to shrink, obey, and silence one’s creative voice. I’m sharing it exactly as it came out — unpolished, unfiltered, and honest.
By Victor Mendez4 months ago in Poets
The Memory of Stars in the Valleys
The high ridges inhale the horizon and exhale clouds that become sapphire whales moving through the valleys. The air carries the memory of pressure from ages and the sound of distant celestial currents.
By Tim Carmichael4 months ago in Poets
The Pull of Home
The mountain shadow settles deep upon the stubborn clay. Roots burrow into darkness where the secret pulse of earth beats slow.
By Tim Carmichael4 months ago in Poets
Night Came Fast
Night Came Fast The day moved out in silence Without a single sound I looked up for a moment And darkness gathered round
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 4 months ago in Poets
Far and Away
How often I have wished to be whisked away to lands afar. To be shown that which I have only seen in photos. To have new experiences. To eat new foods. To be somewhere - ANYWHERE new.
By Julie Lacksonen4 months ago in Poets
The Silence You Call a Summit
Beneath a vaulted heaven where silent stars perform their lonely orbits, the soul embarks upon a pilgrimage through shadows unknown. No map charts this expanse, for the terrain shifts like dreams beneath the pressure of a solitary wanderer. To tread where others fear to step remains the singular burden and the absolute glory of the heart.
By Tim Carmichael4 months ago in Poets
Dragon Horse. Content Warning.
“Tanvir.” “Yes, Commandant?” “You see the target over there? When you’re ready, pull the trigger and try to hit him in his throat.”
By Wen Xiaosheng4 months ago in Poets
Caledonia. Top Story - June 2026.
I sat o’er peaks And loch and quay Outside the wee town Of Pitlochry Upon sacred ground Amongst standing stone And thistled paths
By Matthew J. Fromm4 months ago in Poets
The Pessimistic Houdini
Pictures in my ears and noises in my eyes. I am cross wired. The keeper of other people's secrets except my own. I cannot lie.
By Dotty Fairweather4 months ago in Poets
Shame
in grade school, when names were hurled at my body that it was unacceptable—I felt its punches. in the heat of an argument with my lover
By Steven Berbec4 months ago in Poets
COMICS part II. AI-Generated.
COMICS PART II Actually about comics. 6-23-2026 One of the biggest things about organizing my collection is that I have begun to do an amateur grade based on the system graders
By Victor Mendez4 months ago in Poets