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Non-Fiction Prose

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

Published on 13th March 2015 11:11pm
Written by MaxNewton
I saw a White Star I did I did
Unto the moon we drove,
oh but then I was just a kid,
further further
I see I see
an Iceberg said he,

I saw I saw a white star,
Lift she did
Then sunk into the icy tar,

Oh now oh now I see not,
that white star that haunts my dreams,
she buckled at her seams
she did, she did,

Now she sits upon the sea bed,
all dead, all dead

I saw a white star I did I did
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prose-non-fiction poem

24 reads
7 Comments


Published on 13th March 2015 1:16am
Written by HottNess
how to go on
 the same?
after this encounter
   10 years fast forward.
hello.



This is my diary entry.
I don't write poetry
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prose-non-fiction poem

26 reads
2 Comments


Published on 13th March 2015 00:12am
Written by kateA seekingkate
A raging torrent greets me as I walk from my bedroom across the breezeway.  It's my personal waterfall that starts in the valley of my roof then falls to the pool deck below.  My tree house, visible behind a beaded water curtain as it flows off the tin roof.  In a sea of vibrant green hues flecked with iridescent red from flowering ginger plants the branches and leaves of the plants and trees dance in tempo according to the wind then the breeze.  Like ballet dancers they portray their feelings of pure joy at the rain 'Nathan' has brought, their leaves upturned welcoming it as my face does...
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prose-non-fiction poem

38 reads
6 Comments


Published on 10th March 2015 9:25am
Written by PoetSpeak
Sleepless

Reading words of new poet's
Opening my world to new avenues of thought
I get so caught up in the me of me
You're a breath of new air
Fresh or otherwise

Grateful

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prose-non-fiction poem

46 reads
17 Comments


Published on 9th March 2015 11:06am
Written by jIMNUT_rOARIN
What do I have?
- vast amounts of gold, silver, currency, industrial shares
- ability to survive anywhere with very little
- ability to approach all things and people equally (ie: politicians, criminals, yuppies, Tommy Hillfiggers, hippies, hippie wannabes, parents, parents kids, computer geeks, insane homeless, losers, the sick and ugly, police, 9-5ers, punks, jocks, rednecks, friends, strangers, cute little chipmunks, hungry bears, blizzards, rainstorms, sunshine, plagues, mountains, prairies, cities, wilderness, appliances, garbage, etc...)
- ability to withstand...
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prose-non-fiction poem

39 reads
6 Comments


Published on 9th March 2015 11:03am
Written by jIMNUT_rOARIN
***WARNING: Offensive and Fictitious***
What do I want?
I would like a woman to run my life over...
Specifications:
- wise, well-hipped and calmed the fuck out...

Job Description:
- does not wear spandex, sweat shirts, jogging pants and old people clothes
- does not drink, smoke, do drugs, watch tv, drink coffee, use medicine, eat junkfood; but has done all these things in the past
- has general distrust and pretended respect for authority and science
- has no...
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prose-non-fiction poem

35 reads
3 Comments


Published on 9th March 2015 10:10am
Written by DeathnoteWhovian
It’s a societal belief that you can’t have both, brains and beauty. However, I know an individual who just so happens to embody both of these qualities, among many favourable others.
It started with one line; a veiled clue, if you will, among friends; followed by a long discussion regarding his love interest – and hers. The two basked in each other’s virtual company waiting for the next moment they would see each other again.
The two discussed the delicious topic for long weeks under a code name. Outsiders were told of their situation, many were accepting of it - though in...
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prose-non-fiction poem

40 reads
3 Comments


Published on 9th March 2015 1:07am
Written by joeyregan joeregan
I walk into the doctor's office, about to be touched like I have never been touched before.  Walking beside my mother, they send us to room 5.  Whitewashed walls with only one side, where the bad-dead table is located, covered in splotches that stain the wall with color.  The nurse comes in, hot, blonde, young.  I'm excited now.  Pointing, she asks if I'm ready.  I nod nervously and she responds with, "Then let me go get the doctor."  Wait... The who??  In comes this grey haired chubby lady.  NO.  Where's the hot blonde?  She commands me to turn and cough.  I don't want to.  I then feel the...
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prose-non-fiction poem

28 reads
2 Comments


Published on 5th March 2015 9:46pm
Written by Ajac
Im in this hopeless part
All around my life right here
Loved ones I see drowning in a uncontrollable way to live
Overwhelmed with this pain escapes out to cry
only part it can let go
To blind my eye's from hurt
seeing all that I can't change
My soul aches with sorrow
for these words to feel
To only wish ear's could hear my sadness
The sad part of this is we all know
Our love is strong
Yet we shade the most part
that gives us pain
...
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prose-non-fiction poem

25 reads
No Comments


Published on 5th March 2015 8:36pm
Written by naaat_ naathalie___
"Fuck the world," people all over the world say when something goes wrong.
Something bad happens in someone's life because of somebody else
& the person's reaction would be hating the world.
The world is our home.
Our house is not our home.
This planet is, & we don't treat it like we should.
The flowers in the meadow are amazing & so bright.
We should once in a while go outside, & realize how perfect the world is all around.
People should go seek peace & prosperity in the world & in nature. Specially if our fellow...
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prose-non-fiction poem

36 reads
6 Comments


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

Published on 5th March 2015 5:16am
Written by MsRockyJackson
Growing pains, I've had many as they left plenty scars,
They remind me of how far that I've come.
Sit back and listen to my tale of what it really was like for me...
Just a young girl who was trying to figure out where I belonged.
I wasn't the cute little girl who wore pigtails with pretty pink bows with a flowery dress. No, I was the girl who was always dirty dressed in ripped jeans and a football jersey.
I was the girl who people called a weirdo,
I was the girl that many would make fun of,
I was the girl who tried to fit in.
I was always in need of a...
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prose-non-fiction poem

69 reads
6 Comments


Published on 4th March 2015 6:25pm
Written by Wendy rainbow_sunshine
in that wonderland adolescence, did you ever glimpse, unexpectedly, the depth of perfection held within a single moment? so delicate and impermanent, petrified that the smallest movement, leaves rustling in the wind could destroy it, and alas you would never be there again. have you ever been aware of those moments as they unfurled, like deja vu and memories and dreaming all intertwined in their eyes, in the creases of their arms, elapsed inside a simple truth, the beautiful terror of knowing you will never return. why do we seek out such moments? why do we long to articulate what silence...
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prose-non-fiction poem

35 reads
No Comments


Published on 4th March 2015 5:24am
Written by ShesitsinherSkin
Once again I have added not eating to the list of ways I deal with the burden of being alive. I feel too old for this. There still lingers a strange solidarity with my seventh grade self, the way she lived on green apples & dry noodles for six months. And how her mother never noticed.
The friend I live with now has been more motherly than the womb from which I came. Yet, she knows Ana just as well as me. It is not her responsibility to take care of me. It is my own, but over a decade has come & gone & I've done a terrible job. Lately I’ve been looking at my body like it...
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prose-non-fiction poem

43 reads
1 Comment


Published on 3rd March 2015 7:35pm
Written by thelovepoet
I will never forget a little riddle
I heard when I was only a kiddie
once I thought this little riddle
to be complete foolishness
for wondering if there would
be any sound if a tree fell
to the ground in the forest
and no one was around to hear
the sound of the tree falling
now after I have studied about
the deeper realms of nature
I have found I am truly mystified
beyond my comprehesion
I don't remember where or when
I first heard this little riddle
I can remember hearing
other kids and other people
asking...
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prose-non-fiction poem

27 reads
No Comments


Published on 2nd March 2015 8:36pm
Written by Passiflora
Sorry for the silence. I guess it's kinda ironic since my goal was to try to make it easier by not leading you on, but inevitably I made it worse...I'm in love with someone else, and no matter what you think of me that doesn't change so easily.. I'm sorry for any pain I may have/might cause you, and I hope you will give your affection to someone more deserving. I hope for everyone's happiness, so I wouldn't hold it against you if you got over me quickly. But it is flattering to think you see me in a positive light; I'm glad if I impacted your life in a positive way... And it makes me happy to...
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prose-non-fiction poem

22 reads
No Comments


Published on 2nd March 2015 4:20am
Written by jIMNUT_rOARIN
The Poet as Labourer
Though we are animals, we work in order to avoid the realization of this awkward verity.   And though we may sweat and wrinkle at the toil of our occupations, we know that if we didn’t work at all, our lives would be a billion times less interesting and convenient.  There would be little variation from the daily beastly foragings.
But the Poet despises work.  Work is the villain of Freedom.  Thus, the Poet uses Poetry as Her work, Her justification, Her “easy way out” from the dilemma of having to work to avoid being a helpless animal.  So the Poet...
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prose-non-fiction poem

37 reads
4 Comments


Published on 1st March 2015 6:37am
Written by kateA seekingkate
Day is dawning.  Tomorrow I leave Berlin. Someone once said to me it was the most amazing city in the universe. A very high opinion indeed but he's a Berliner and they are very proud of their city. But he no longer explores it because of the tourists. My thought was he needed to reconnect with its gloriousness through the eyes of a traveller.  But he's right, it is amazing. I've had the most incredible experiences here on so many different levels and a major cathartic moment. Berlin will always be with me.
This morning things are so much clearer. Colours are brighter, the...
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prose-non-fiction poem

62 reads
8 Comments


Published on 27th February 2015 8:46am
Written by LokiOfLiterati

             From where I stand we're all adrift on this ball of fire and rock. Once I get past the sphere of the human waste, harmony and serendipity sinks in. Ants and humans float upon the same spaceship. I stand with my feet on the ground, head in the clouds. But if there is no up, no magnification of self-importance in life, then the private sphere is the only place to stand. Other focuses may hold greater immediate priority, but we only pass through this world. We stand inside, alone.
            From where I stand the purpose of life is to propagate life....
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prose-non-fiction poem

46 reads
4 Comments


Published on 26th February 2015 7:09am
Written by jIMNUT_rOARIN
***NOT TO BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY***

Walking / Public Appearance
Walk in public as though walking naked (picture yourself as one of those first hairy upright beasts on the breezy African plains...).
When lounging on a bench or couch, emulate the crucifixion pose, half smile / half suffer, head down to the side.
Sit as though sitting naked (sit strong like warrior, like big indian chief, head high, no slouching, firm mouth, no eye contact).
Stand or sit seductively in weird places, especially against walls (this is the only time to make eye contact...
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prose-non-fiction poem

34 reads
2 Comments


Published on 25th February 2015 11:28pm
Written by staggerlee
CHANGING OF THE GUARD
After the signing of treaty in 1921 the struggle to gain the levers of power began in earnest. The southern Irish
middle class made up of old unionist elite, the catholic hierarchy, large land owners and the remnants
of the old civil service took the view that partition and the oath was preferable than a prolong conflict
with Britain which would undermine the old order even in the new nationalist state.
The question on everybody lips in late 1921 was what would a truly free Ireland would look like, in particular what class or...
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prose-non-fiction poem

24 reads
1 Comment


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