Prose

Tallahassee Eulogy
For having the only house on the street that boasted a banana tree, a gazebo, and a second floor. . For the great oaks draped in Spanish moss like the beards of an extinct dwarven species, its rough feel that made me shudder with a kind of fascinated dread.
By Raistlin Allen4 months ago in Poets
When life gives you tangerines
An infamous saying goes, “When life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” It means making the best out of a bad situation. Lemons symbolize hardships, lemonade for resilience. But what if life gives tangerines? What do we do?
By fleeting.serenics4 months ago in Poets
Lady Ghost
I. Window slides open, one clear night. It slides open, and my lady ghost appears, floating in the cold, cold breeze.
By Dean Traylor4 months ago in Poets
Beneath The Willow Tree
Beneath the willow tree I rest and marvel at all its leaves have seen Memories incarnate of when this was meadow
By Matthew J. Fromm4 months ago in Poets
To the woman who held it all
“When Lolo died, did you cry?” “When Mom’s twin died, did you cry?” I remember how I would always ask you that when I was a kid. And you, without a fail, would casually respond,
By fleeting.serenics4 months ago in Poets
Where the sky meets the ocean
Where the sky meets the ocean In the vast horizon I have always been in motion Inside the soul’s immersion — — — — Where the sky meets the ocean
By fleeting.serenics4 months ago in Poets
Blood of the Wolf: The Visitor. Top Story - December 2025.
Now let me tell you this, my Viking brethren, a tale of the day, for a woman came to my door, her shoulders draped in furs,
By Amanda Starks4 months ago in Poets
Season 22
It is so profound how I don't think about it anymore. With nature on its way out I packed melancholy into an airtight jar and put it on the shelf beside the jar
By Gerry Thibeault4 months ago in Poets
Silent Poetry
The night was slowly settling over the quiet city. A soft breeze touched the empty streets as a young man sat on an old sidewalk, a notebook in his hand and a trembling pen between his fingers. His name was Rehan—the poet everyone called “The Silent Writer.”
By Anas Khan4 months ago in Poets
Breaking Curses of Dark Entities. Content Warning.
This flame is mine to ignite, not theirs to erase. Every curse becomes fuel, every attempt at destruction becomes witness. I stand sovereign truth over lies, care over cruelty, cadence over silence. This archive is not theirs to burn; it is mine to keep alive.
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 4 months ago in Poets
Kintsugi 3
There is beauty in you And in me Is it seeing flaws in the beauty? Or beauty in the flaws? Does it matter? We all see beauty differently
By Atomic Historian4 months ago in Poets
Always in All Ways
Always sounds grand in the moment An expression of hope To conquer every unknown valley and slope Little do we know that always means in all ways
By Atomic Historian4 months ago in Poets