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Non-Fiction Prose

Non-poetic writing including diary extracts, journal entries, letters, essays and art

Published on 23rd June 2014 6:46am
Written by DarknessIsNear
   "Hey, so how do you feel about your dad and I getting back together?"
   Her words hit me with the intensity of a thousand bullets hitting me in the head repeatedly.
   I froze, thinking about the months before. How this woman left my dad, breaking him to pieces, and leaving me behind to pick the fragments up. How they both told me everything about anything, even the full story of the break-up. How she got pregnant with another man's child and is trying to convince everyone that it's my dad's.
   I thought about how she had treated me like nothing but a...
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prose-non-fiction poem

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2 Comments


Published on 23rd June 2014 5:56am
Written by Aladyleowriter
I am not in the only room with a window, suffering bleak stretches of time in the cold and foggy moors.   I’m not near a fireplace in a tell-tale cabin reeking of wood smoke and writers.  This is not handwriting in lamp-black ink with a found feather, fashioned into a quill; a labor of submission.
I do not let my veins to prose in obedience or for pleasure.  I am hardly a poet.
Poetry is your aboriginal language and so I write reams of it, tossed over running waters as paper roses and search boats.  Quires of them are atlases, mapping the dirt roads to our home-land, and...
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prose-non-fiction poem

28 reads


Published on 23rd June 2014 00:05am
Written by Spitz cmspitz
I slept till 14 and made eggs while drinking orange juice, naked. To my surprise, one of my roommate's parents were over. We were all mortified. My roommate came in after all of us screamed. He was very angry at me. Apparently he told me to get out of the house before noon. He didn't know I wasn't awake. Funny how those things work out so perfectly. If you're wondering why I was making eggs naked, I too am wondering the same thing.
I personally like to think Walt Disney is a Nazi that is in favor of homosexual couples. I think Disney did something that was pro LGBT, which probably...
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prose-non-fiction poem

15 reads
2 Comments


Published on 22nd June 2014 7:46pm
Written by Memphis Hendrix MGC
Before in utero,
I played dead.
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prose-non-fiction poem

13 reads
1 Comment


Published on 22nd June 2014 11:34am
Written by Emilio EliCid
Without story my callings command forth written " -

Reminder,
Bury this commercialized conception.
Be your bonafide self among everyone and thing.
Without critique and expectation,
Let the nature flow,
Don't be this or that,
me be me and you be you.
Let things speak about themself.

Be steady, forceless.
Natural, objectiveless. " - AtR
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prose-non-fiction poem

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Published on 21st June 2014 5:51pm
Written by Spitz cmspitz
Writing this one a little sooner than I thought, but there was a five day gap so, yeah.
The suburbs were nice, we just hung out mainly. Played some basketball, ultimate, biked around, found a tons of cheap restaurants. It was quiet and peaceful. I was actually able to sleep those four or five days I was there. I'm back at my place now, and was greeted with cat urine all over my room. I was and still am mad as all hell. I swear I closed my door. Fucking roommates with their fucking cats.
So my sister, after two years, finally decided to send me a message through Facebook....
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prose-non-fiction poem

12 reads
2 Comments


Published on 21st June 2014 6:18am
Written by johnrot


adult poems
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prose-non-fiction poem

46 reads
1 Comment


Published on 17th June 2014 9:52pm
Written by Aladyleowriter
I wanted you to love me like love is a verb and not some flaccid word you mouth.
I’m leaving soon, and I’ll never look back, not even to see you through the trees at someone’s wedding or your mama’s funeral.  God as my witness if there is one, I don’t want to live without you; but I can.
I saw us somehow in the city’s skyline, you in a suit and my hair in the wind.  I would write books and you would star in films, and we’d be together around extraneous lovers and bends in the river.
That’s what you said, isn't it?
Your I love yous feel like, ‘g’night, sleep...
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prose-non-fiction poem

51 reads


Image
Published on 17th June 2014 4:22am
Written by Spitz cmspitz
I worked out today, but in a weird way. My friend called me and he said we were going to bike up to this college town near the city for a couple of days. So we biked in this god awful heat to this town. It's amazingly pretty and urban at the same time. And seems expensive. Right now, we are staying in his cousin's basement. I'm so glad to be out of the city, if only for a couple of days. I can feel the creative juices flowing. I hated the bike ride, cause it was hot as hell. Maybe the high 70's and mid to low 80's are pants weather for some, but I naturally wear shorts in single digits. It's...
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prose-non-fiction poem

21 reads
2 Comments


Published on 16th June 2014 1:17pm
Written by Ajac
This white toxic smoke I inhale,
filling my lungs.
My thoughts turn, flicking back and forth.
This ice I was introduced to,
sharing its wasrm twist.
 
Lost my soul.Giving it to my poison.
Keeper of my life.
She captured my darkened soul.
Conection we shared words cannot explain. I save the moments we shared.
 
Those wicked eyes, beauty of imperfection. The way she looked at me, innocent yet so powerful.
 
The poison stated to fade, begging for it to last.
Addicted to poison, leaving me in solitude.
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prose-non-fiction poem

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DU Poetry : Non-Fiction Prose: Diary Entries, Letters and Articles

Published on 16th June 2014 7:33am
Written by lonelove
(This is based solely on a dream I had on not on anything real)
She lay in the hospital bed. Her wrists and ankles were bound with every sort of bandage the hospital could produce, and I could see the little indents of the stitches that held her hand to the rest of her arm. The doctor came behind me, and said in a cold voice.
"It's a blessing she's alive."
I cringed, neither her nor I believed in blessing and the like. Was this a blessing? To her it wasn't, I didn't know what to feel. But at the moment I felt like I wasn't really breathing, just like her, I needed...
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prose-non-fiction poem

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Published on 16th June 2014 6:23am
Written by Pishashee
Up all night again talking to myself on paper and stabbing my heart with a wide open pen.  I cried a lot.   I wrote some mind ramblings.  It's all just about life in general.   I'm a monster.  There's a lot of cussing and using the word fuck and it bears a small resemblance to resentment through the places I've been.   I’m so ashamed, but fear not On the Turning Away, I was in the same place then out digging in my garden for the culprit. There is no meaning but happiness, but it lay in ruin over delirious confusion. There is no meaning but suffering, yet this too is only an illusion. Nobody...
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prose-non-fiction poem

44 reads
4 Comments


Image
Published on 16th June 2014 3:18am
Written by Spitz cmspitz
Nothing really happened today. I woke up at 8 because my of a cat. I went to do a thing, then met up with my parents to do father's day. I had to get a ride from one of my roommates, and now I owe gas money and a pizza. At least I don't have to hide any bodies.
I hate the summer. School is out, there is nothing to do, besides writing and working. I guess that's good but none of my friends are free. They're rich enough to get out of this shit hole for the summer. Plus it's so damn hot and noisy. Winter please come and kill off all of the tourists, actually you'll just spawn more...
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prose-non-fiction poem

17 reads
2 Comments


Published on 15th June 2014 8:58pm
Written by Emilio EliCid
I lack understanding from the common word
"we're in" or "this is" - " the 21st century"..
I'm not sure who or what the next drunk was that started this
But once again, like when happiness turned homo sexual,
Things have been turned into something they're orginially not..
And the population follow it.. Praise any junky.. suuuure.
This Idiocracy,
It's 2nd grade math
What's "20" x "100 (Century)"?
2000! NOT 2100!
This year calendar year is 2014! NOT 2114..
This is a difference between you alive or dead.
I embrance imagination and  self...
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prose-non-fiction poem

23 reads
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Image
Published on 15th June 2014 12:23pm
Written by Emilio EliCid
12 am, midnight commonly people say..
I feel,
the end of day is the start of night,
the start of day is the end of night.
Sun set, Sun rise..
Every moment among the shadow side is midnight.

haha I must contest those who rest
It's easy when you're awake.. ;) - AtR
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prose-non-fiction poem

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Published on 15th June 2014 9:25am
Written by Poetryman
Passion & Pain
Chapter 1: Back To The Egg
1: Back To The Egg
2: Descent
3: Surrender the Phantom
4: A Grave Half-Empty
5: Unloved Alone But She Loved Him
6: Eleven Years Road By
7: Goodbye Mr. Bear
8: The Fool That Never Knowed
9: Traitor in Our Midst
10: Hey Joe, What Does It Mean If It Burns When I Piss?
11: If Closets Could Talk

Chapter 2: Broken Bonds
...
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prose-non-fiction poem

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Published on 15th June 2014 8:51am
Written by Poetryman
"Seeds and Weeds"
Chapter 1: Pride & Prejudice
1: Pride Is One Seed
2: Seeds & Weeds (prose)
3: 3 Seeds
4: 4th Independence
5: Matthew 5:5
6: Segregation
7: Separation
8: Where Will You Aim Your Hate?
9: NYS OCFS Graduation Speech, 12/10/99
10: The Boyz At Tryon

Chapters 2: Mother Natures Sun
11: Mother oh Mother
12: He Who Laughs Last Will Be A Fertile, Mutant Cockroach
13: Sleep (Hiding From The Touch Of Death)...
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prose-non-fiction poem

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Published on 15th June 2014 3:58am
Written by Spitz cmspitz
Decided to keep another journal. To keep thoughts in one place. Feel free to read, comment, whatever. It's just to document my life, so I know what the fuck is happening. Plus i'm sharing it anyways.
Food has tasted like nothing, or just the base components, for about 3 days now. Driving me insane. Feeling like I'm in Log Horizon. But that's a fantasy world, while I'm fucked up in reality. I don't taste meat anymore, it's just fat, protein and sodium. I don't have a flu, it's just what's happening. I also tend to become temporarily color blind. I'm told that's because of stress and...
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prose-non-fiction poem

18 reads
2 Comments


Published on 14th June 2014 9:11pm
Written by exe
began but the powercord pulled out//impotent electricals//gremlins//began with a spiderscuttle how he runs on the samecolour ploughed carpet//noah webster be damd//stonehenge was flat pack furniture//pop a pearlescent follicle from near my spine//strange but it doesn't matter then on to a memory//and said of him//wary-eyed//muscles like eggshells//pain//is weakness leaving the body//pain is weakness leaving the body//had enough that he put it on tap and on the house//dripdrip//why but what good is there in a happy childhood//as much as in a happy meal he'd maybe have said//critical his...
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prose-non-fiction poem

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Published on 13th June 2014 12:47pm
Written by LiveFiction
    Sometimes I wish I had the choice, but I know that after 36 years, this simply isn’t so. The colors pound like relentless tides against the backs of my eyes while my moods fuel the engine keeping these waves powered.  My feelings act as both compass and captain, directing focus towards a specific tone needed for articulation. This focus then aches to become something tangible, something representational, something created outside of my head so that this internal discussion can actually be shared with others in a visually visceral way.
    If I don’t create meaning from...
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prose-non-fiction poem

49 reads
3 Comments


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