Prose

Unfiltered-3
It’s more important to press pen to paper Before the thoughts disappear into vapor But an aberration of the mind Like the clocks chiming
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
Unfiltered-2
Like coffee and cigarettes Unfiltered and raw Is how I draw the thoughts from my mind Sometimes it’s the only way I can unwind
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
Unfiltered
Unfiltered and unflattering A little of this A spattering of that I always write off the cuff There’s not much time to think about it
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
Cryptic in Triptych
Prologue Streams of consciousness, for me at least, often lead me and us (where us read me) to interrogate, investigate and conflate the very fibres that make up the me and who that might be. Even when starting along, pulling the anchor aboard and setting adrift on poetic currents and craftship mastery, the still ebb and flow leads towards choppier waters of warring and debating, embracing and debasing ponderings on existence.
By Paul Stewartabout a year ago in Poets
9/16/24
The mind sees what the eyes refuse to see The road to hell is paved with well behaved slaves Constructing staves to save my mind
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
The Moral of the Story
...a little girl should not be sent to visit her grandmother in the woods. ...a princess in a tall castle should always grow her hair out.
By Kendall Defoe about a year ago in Poets
In the Echo of Shadows
In the echo of shadows, where silence screams, A mind battles ghosts of fractured dreams. Dark clouds swirl in an endless night,
By Sen Sababout a year ago in Poets
Humankind
Humankind having ample exemplars to sample Hath deemed the fruits of your mind void of substance subsurface to rind.
By Chris Zabout a year ago in Poets
Before the first drop
A canvas waits for its naked body to be clothed. Tins of paint wait to be mixed into a colorful symphony. The conductor holds her paintbrush.
By Rachael Mathewabout a year ago in Poets
the way down. Content Warning.
i'm waking up alone again, dreamwalking on the roadside. the signs all say i'm going nowhere. they say to turn around before i can't,
By ⸘jason alan‽about a year ago in Poets
Scarlet's Roses
Moonlight shines down on your face, I see stars of crimson, and they bleed like lovely scarlet roses, as the thorns of you have pierced deep into my skin
By Dixie Doddabout a year ago in Poets
I was so full of love that I could barely eat
Adorned by the atrocity, bemoaned by the call In the dire stance of existence, the elusiveness of stillness in its mirth had its stall.
By Hridya Sharmaabout a year ago in Poets