Prose

Twelve Flowers for You. Top Story - September 2026.
I picked twelve flowers for you today. The first flower I found was a vibrant blue Delphinium . Life feels so natural when I talk with you. Your words flow with ease and turn my moody blues into sparkling stars flowing in the dark blue sky of love.
By Rick Henry Christopher 2 months ago in Poets
r o d e a h o g
mother rode a hog . long before she met father and found god . she saw it calling to her clearly, dear ho, go . mother answered that call consistently, but never with protection. despite headgear being buildable from the phrase, she neglected to wear it every single time she rode a hog , offering instead that it was the 70s and nobody was ahead of the times. a head is arguably the most important part to protect, but she didn't think about that while she rode. instead, she set off pondering about how rode a hog can spell hear good , which she never could, and how hog is another word for pig , which is what her mother taught her to call police. if she wasn't careful, she would end up with the image in her mind of her riding around on the back of a cop, unable to hear him scream. this was an oh-so-satisfying mental picture, but had she had it today, in this new age of our surveillance state, she might have broken the law thinking it before she ever actually rode a hog .
By kp2 months ago in Poets
Should I Depart Early. Top Story - September 2026.
Should I Depart Early, please do not fret For almost a certainty I’m home, tucked in bed Should you search there and find me gone It’s fair to say I rose again And walked along Off to the garden Off a beaten path Follow me Toward the endless sea Should I depart early Seek a quiet place Like a stone So merrily do we roll Unsettled in our grace I likely took time To reflect on these rhymes A simple moment Fleeting, unfamiliar In these vapid times. Should I depart early Think of it not in terror We so often find silence harrowing Instead take heed And mire in its pleasure Should I depart early I might have flown away, But don't be weary We’ll find each other Some other day
By Matthew J. Fromm2 months ago in Poets
For an Audience of One
The curtains unfurl, the stage is set. There I am, up there standing before an audience of one. *** The words I speak,
By Dean Traylor2 months ago in Poets
THE BEST WAY TO KEEP YOU MINE
THE BEST WAY TO KEEP YOU MINE I never needed golden rings Or promises you made, Just little acts of kindness When sunlight starts to fade.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 2 months ago in Poets
When the copy becomes more popular
You were bullied? Yeah in what way? Got any specific stories like I do on tiktok? No. Vague answers. Say you do what I do standing up for someone while doing the opposite and attacking. Maybe helping some to keep your status but attack me and keep me down because no one can find out where you got that exact idea and wording from. Everything I carry someone else repeating out of their mouth to sound empathetic and real. Trying to reach that it came from me originally louder while the group stays to their delusion. My work is not for anyone else's benefit, yet here they go taking it all and repackaging it to the fan base they already built. Following me and saying what I said out loud hurry up and write it down. Feel like going out is just people studying me to suck my life force and convince others to give me no attributes to my contributions where it all started from.
By Seashell Harpspring 2 months ago in Poets
can we . Top Story - August 2026.
there was a time when it was just me and the water. we sat together in ways and for times that could confuse my lungs, but that made my fascia feel at home. buried under the glinting pools, the murky lakes, the crisp oceans, even the pedantic showers i indulged my body of water to mingle and submerge in the sublime source. the nourishment and sustainer. my healer. i read recently that the colloquial framing of bodies as "meat" is scientifically inaccurate. we are water. but we only just figured this out? " ja' k'aslemal ," the iyoom told us as she massaged the milk from my friend's tender breasts. " agua es vida ," translated my fluent friend for me, "water is life." the tub had been warmed so the water cradled, but didn't smother. the tz'utujil of san pedro la laguna know that, when properly applied, water heals and performs miracles. like mixing and pulling dyes to create a singular hue of blue only possible on the full moon. or easing the swollen, clogged ducts of a bereaved mother-who-should-be. everything changes when the conditions of the water change. the monks at linquan temple provided boiling drinking water during the heat of the july i spent with them. i asked and was told that it is easier to absorb, helps digestion, and doesn't disrupt your system. this knowledge has been ours since dawning, across people, cultures, and continents we have known what water is. what we are. but i recently read a story the algorithm curated for me that said we've been thinking about it all wrong, while my phone, my only companion, looked back at me by the water.
By kp2 months ago in Poets
Small Words. Top Story - August 2026.
This piece won first prize at the fair this weekend. Read to the end for the story behind the poem. SMALL WORDS by Stephanie Van Orman
By Stephanie Van Orman2 months ago in Poets
“What’s Wrong With Me,” He Said
“What’s wrong with me?” He said. ** “A disorder,” I said. ** “What do you mean?” He said. ** “ Adjustment disorder ,”
By Dean Traylor2 months ago in Poets
Nowhere
I’m sorry I don’t know what happened It’s just gone I don’t think we did anything wrong But it wasn’t right either It wasn’t planned
By Atomic Historian2 months ago in Poets
When The Moon Knows Your Secrets
When The Moon Knows Your Secrets I whispered secrets to the moon, Beneath a lonely silver tune, I told her things I couldn’t say, Then watched the darkness fade away.
By ♿ V+ Marie381Uk 2 months ago in Poets
What about her?
You speak of caring, but what about her? What about the girl who cuts her arm to feel some control? What about the girl who can never feel whole?
By Jennisea Standing Rock2 months ago in Poets