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Non-Fiction Prose

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

Published on 17th April 2015 6:39am
Written by 1AyeDee
I asked you a question and you remained silent. I approached you with peace and yet you reacted rather violent. The hue of your flesh is the same as mine. But what is it that is within us that causes you to cock your nine? We were told that we are brothers from the motherland Africa. We are suppose to look out for one another, yet, there's a knife in my back. Along with the discrimination and self hate bred deep within my soul. I wasn't raised to hate niggas until you stepped on my new shoes. I wasn't taught to fight you my brother until you disrespected the street in which I lay my head at....
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prose-non-fiction poem

17 reads
1 Comment

New Member
Published on 16th April 2015 1:44pm
Written by Firebyrd
Woke up
on the WRONG
side of the bed today
My usual gratefulness for breathing
was tinged with .... a lil bit of disdain
Not that I'm mad I woke up
I'm just mad at the LIFE
I woke up to...
With A deep sigh,
I watch rain clouds roll in
Off the Mountain above me...
Now... fat drops of water
are pouring over everything
that is anything outside...
Looking out the window
used to make me feel
serene and whole...
Yet, today...
I'm just disgusted
Same Shit Different Day
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prose-non-fiction poem

28 reads

Published on 16th April 2015 12:54pm
Written by GodKill
I sit here with my mother insight,
I sit here every day and night,
My eyes nailed to my mother,
Feeble frail and dying,
I know there will never be another,
If only I could take her pain,
And swallow it down my throat,
What does God really gain,
By seeing my mother choke,
A tube in her nose for breathing,
It's the only thing keeping her here,
And a tube to wear when she's sleeping,
If not she would be dead in another year,
I hate to see her live life this way,
Forever piercing pain,
Her only view of life is death,
A thousand tears...
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prose-non-fiction poem

20 reads

New Member
Published on 16th April 2015 7:22am
Written by thepositivelydark
Mania and Consequences
My heart is too weak for poetry.
For now it's not enough.
My dog, Lizzie, died. Half Pomeranian, half Chihuahua, I named her after Elizabeth Bennett and Dracula's wife, Elisabetta. She was rich mocha, fluffy and fat, with a line of black fur above her eyes making her look like she's always annoyed, always deep in thought. As I am.
I got her only last Saturday... some may wonder why her death would affect me so, so, strongly. We didn't have enough time to have a very strong bond. But I can't help the guilt that's creeping up on me. I...
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prose-non-fiction poem

11 reads

Published on 16th April 2015 1:26am
Written by geraldine17 geradine
your born being innocent not knowing the struggles of the world then you ask yourself one simple question "what is my purpose in life,"? you search for the answer all around. then you lose focus and become like everyone else forgetting your mission but once you look in the mirror you realize it and begin again you know you may never find the answer but you can at least try. you go on each day looking at the people around you wondering if they even know the answer till you just settle that you may never get the answer so you go on each day to make a purpose for yourself instead of blending in...
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prose-non-fiction poem

24 reads
No Comments

Published on 15th April 2015 1:46pm
Written by PoetSpeak
As poets we love to be read
Commented on
In the swamp of DUP
Writing sex gets you there
Fancies tickled
Looking good on the pedestal
Serious inking
Not so much
A select few appreciate it
Sex however is always one poem away
It's a dilemma for this poet
I write because I'm addicted to narratives
Love the praise, wish there was a serious corner
To take a sexual time out and expand
Do you get it
Do you feel this way too ?
Or it just me ?
Tell me if you get it or tell me to get lost
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prose-non-fiction poem

41 reads

Published on 15th April 2015 1:07pm
Written by LokiOfLiterati
     Spring sleeps beneath a barren land for half the year and slowly grows inebriated from memories of previous Springs, hopes of a new one, soaked in from the sweat of so many feet. Mother nature's tongue, lapping up all the detritus of life plodding forward. Spring learns from osmosis. Officially beginning when the whole day begs to be soaked up outside and sundresses summon the blinking off of winter. Winking lingers. When everyone's finger is on the pulse of warmth and Earth-life waking up again, Spring becomes a consciousness. But then I see everything as a consciousness. All process...
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prose-non-fiction poem

26 reads

Published on 15th April 2015 6:52am
Written by SabrinaK
One Friday night, I and two of my other siblings dreamed some what of the same dream... Of our oldest Brother being killed in a type of a vehicle accident yet not quite the same... That following Monday, playing running around as rambunctious siblings do... The police pulls up in the drive....  Father tells us to go play, yet us kids knowing something was wrong big Bubby wasn't home... I will never forget hearing them words seeing my Father bout drop to His knees... When the officer asked if He had a Son by the name of Wayne Lawrence Glover... Then saying, we need one of you to come to the...
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prose-non-fiction poem

15 reads
1 Comment

Published on 15th April 2015 00:37am
Written by blocat
My two companions were drunk and disorderly ‘Who put a twat like you in charge anyway?’ the Scotsman growled.
‘The Army’ I replied ‘will you please get in the vehicle?’
‘Lusten ersehole ah’m wantin’ anither drink an’ the pubs are open ye ken?’ he slurred,
I looked at the duty driver who read my mind ‘I'm only the driver mate don’t involve me.’
Jock pushed past me I grabbed his shoulder pulling him back. ‘Come on Jock don’t be...’ He swung at me but he was slow, I sidestepped retaliating with a right cross and down he went like a sack of soggy sago.
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prose-non-fiction poem

17 reads

Published on 14th April 2015 11:04pm
Written by Maenad
One word, girl: Period
The dreaded monthly cycle that we all hate and relish at the same time. After a certain age and a specific activity - this monthly curse can seem not so bad. It means you are still fertile. Barren. Not pregnant. There are so many words for it. Many of them imply that the main purpose of the female is to procreate - the males of our species definitely can't do it alone and we have yet to develop that neat trick that nature gave to certain species to spontaneously change sex and fertilize their own eggs. Now THAT'S a fucking shame - imagine; no sex - ever.
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prose-non-fiction poem

13 reads
No Comments

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

Published on 14th April 2015 10:20pm
Written by bwilde
So I was not too far off the mark with this, excerpted from our last long exchange:
“You do have material for a memoir. Dunno, maybe stabbed and left for dead, bleeding out on the table? Or possibly a ruptured main artery and bleeding internally? Car or motorcycle accident possibly, where you were at fault, or not, and almost wound up in jail even after almost dying?  For something you didn’t do? A gun fight? Knife fight? Bar brawl with broken beer bottles? Desperately trying to defend the innocent (as you would surely do) but wound up misunderstood? Attacked in the street while you...
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prose-non-fiction poem

10 reads
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Published on 14th April 2015 6:22am
Written by thewatcher33
Not Quite Finished but wanted to share anyways
Viable and Reasonable conclusions, why all human beings should live in societies where ethics and the rule of law based on equality and justice abides..
When I was sixteen or seventeen years old, I told my mother that I did not believe in God; her response was if you do not believe in God then get out of my house. Looking back this seem very cruel and vicious but at that time it was a scary moment because I came to realize that when it comes to love for christians it is attached to their God. Meaning that if...
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prose-non-fiction poem

40 reads
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Published on 13th April 2015 12:35pm
Written by cyanide kid102 utenaka
(actually it belong to category dark)
in berlin between 2008-2010were about 25-30 homeless women. and this nice government even doesnt open for these few poor women an asyl , where there they can dwell. just dose-hause, from 8p.m. to 8a.m. in this rich cuntry will anything normaly made to protect rich from poor. it really horrible how they treat those few homeless girls and woman. there perhaps clowns are required on the streets in emanation of on tragic fate..

a week ago it was tragic crash of plane Düsseldorf-Barcelona, 150 creatures died,...
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prose-non-fiction poem

18 reads
No Comments

Published on 13th April 2015 6:59am
Written by jIMNUT_rOARIN
***Some offensive religious content***

Woke up to a fruit sauce cup.  Decided to read the New Testament.  One day and 20 pages of MJJ and the P later, I finished.  Went for a 5km hike up a mountain of moss and loose sharp boulders.  No food.  No water.  No sleep (although I think I lost it around 2nd James, dozing off for a second or two...).  Just the Word of the Lord.  Spiritual Food.  No tv.  Life was a myth.  Cold, cramped, weak, starving, listless, bored, few hallucinations, visions of the future, intense memories of childhood, and Pink Floyd.  Pink Floyd was in the...
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prose-non-fiction poem

23 reads

Published on 12th April 2015 9:24pm
Written by Yudi Yudhajeet_Sinha_09
Love is one of the most famous word on this earth in every language. Everyone speaks about it but no one really knows what the word actually means. I am not indulging into the age old debate of defining love nor shall I endeavour to find the meaning of true love. But I shall make an effort to elucidate the feeling which we all try to relate with the word love. The feeling that encompasses our mind with a melancholic circle that soothes and hurts us at the same time. The feeling which we all know is perfidious to our rationale but we can’t seem to block the thoughts coming in our mind. We...
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prose-non-fiction poem

28 reads

Published on 11th April 2015 10:37am
Written by SabrinaK
For Seven wonderful, beautiful months I carried You... I and Your little sister was so excited... Anxious to see Your little faces... To hold and love You... Everything we had all set up, ready for Your arrival... ultrasounds, healthy and strong...  Nursery done for boy and girl... Thought for sure, Your Daddy was happy that finally He was at least going to have one Son and another hopa, beautiful daughter... But, I was wrong.... awe, Seven beautiful months I felt You grow, kick.... Toss and turn about... Such mid-night cravings You two caused... Pickles, philli steak hogies dipped in apple...
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prose-non-fiction poem

22 reads
1 Comment

Published on 10th April 2015 6:45pm
Written by sammy4444
Wars and rumors of wars
It seems to me that the bulk of self-proclaimed Christianity as represented in the United States political party is too busy ushering in the apocalypse to do anything helpful in the world. They are too concerned about making the world bad enough that Christ will return, according to their beliefs, that they don't do anything to fix the problems in the world around them. Self fulfilling prophesy at its finest as the chosen people become the evil they have preached would come in the last days before their savior returns.
They are encouraging wars, and...
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prose-non-fiction poem

41 reads

Published on 9th April 2015 2:55pm
Written by Pleasuresofpain PleasuresOfPain
It's been rough since hearing the news,
Lately I've been drowning in my own pain
While buying all sorts of drugs to abuse
I can't face the truth and tears fall like rain
You're the one person that I can depend on
It's been like that for as long as I can remember
I wonder what I'd do if someday you'd be gone
Would I be stricken with sorrow forever & ever?
I feel broken and empty,depressed and upset
I cry out to God in contempt and fading strength
I've prayed but none have been granted as of yet
I feel like I'm to blame for your pains...
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prose-non-fiction poem

27 reads
1 Comment

Published on 8th April 2015 4:38pm
Written by boston34520
I want to feel again, dad.
I want to breath again, dad.
I don't wanna worry anymore, dad.
I just want you to be happy, dad.
I don't want you to be miserable, dad.
It breaks my heart, dad.
To see you so sad, dad.
To see you drink to an oblivion, dad.
To take pain killers till your numb, dad.
Why do you have to make me so sad, dad.
I just want you to smile again, dad.
I want to see you active, dad.
What happened to who you used to be, dad.
How does it feel to be you right now, dad.
Do you realize what your putting us through, dad.
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prose-non-fiction poem

21 reads
1 Comment

Published on 8th April 2015 11:37am
Written by SabrinaK
Friday, November 22, 1963
A day in time, which I wish that we could go back and undo... Even though I wasn't even a thought back then... Its a day that still causes much pain and sorrow for many and as well caused us all to look differently at our Government and how they may have or not had a hand in such a horrific cruel selfish act of taking a life of what could have been the greatest President if allowed to have lived, that we as Americans has ever known... John F Kennedy, a loving Father and not without flaw a loving Husband... That stepped on a bit too many toes and didn't always...
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prose-non-fiction poem

23 reads
1 Comment

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