Arts + Entertainment
The central nexus for all things film, gaming, art, and music.
Ode to the Humble Spoon
Oh humble spoon, how oft we overlook thy grace, In silver curves and gentle dip, a soft embrace. In the humdrum of life's ever-hurrying pace,
Abnoan MunizPublished 9 months ago in PoetsThe Zebra's Dance
Once upon a time, in the vast plains of Africa, the zebras did not wear their iconic black and white stripes as they do today. Instead, they were entirely white, blending in with the towering clouds above and the frothy river rapids.
Abnoan MunizPublished 9 months ago in FictionThe Tale of the Blue Sky
Many centuries ago, the sky was not blue as we see it today. It was a blank, colorless canvas, vast and stretching as far as the eye could see. People looked up and saw nothing but an empty, gray expanse and felt a longing in their hearts for something more.
Abnoan MunizPublished 9 months ago in FictionMy Dear Sweet Coke
Ode to coke a cola The spit of your fizz That spatters my lips Stirs an energy, unlike any other The bubbles that rise
Kelli Sheckler-AmsdenPublished 9 months ago in PoetsThe First Echo
Once, the world was alive but silent. Beasts roamed, flowers blossomed, and streams meandered without knowing their time-worn fate. Each living being was like an apparition, seeming to carry on in life's cycle but never genuinely living.
Can we not even say?
to accompany self in pain is the best thought to ordain to occupy self mind with right is the step ahead for fight life needs roof?
Ekta K. KalraPublished 9 months ago in PoetsThe Healing Garden
Once upon a time, in a small quaint village, there lived an elderly woman named Grace. She had weathered many storms in her life, including the loss of her husband and the estrangement of her children. As the years passed, Grace found herself increasingly isolated and filled with sorrow. Her days were spent in the confines of her humble home, and her heart felt like a barren land, devoid of life and purpose.
Laura KeungPublished 9 months ago in FictionI am for me a surprise
must be within me I don’t see outside or maybe I never expressed It enough to be alive must be hiding in I never observed it
Ekta K. KalraPublished 9 months ago in Poets