Long Non-Fiction Prose
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Non-poetic writing including diary extracts, journal entries, letters, essays and art - Long poems (300 words or more), most recently posted poems first.
Nari
Spellbound
Spellbound
Poem Published
Today 1:00pm
Today 1:00pm
The Aerial
It was impossible
Not be
Captivated
In the reflection
Of what
Spirit/Flesh
Had already
Achieved
And wanting it
For myself
So we waited
For any part of you
To rub off on me.
We were young,
Uninhibited/
Wrestling
Over the hills
We’d grown
Without laws
To mind us
In an avant garde
District
Overlooking
The lake
Which...
Not be
Captivated
In the reflection
Of what
Spirit/Flesh
Had already
Achieved
And wanting it
For myself
So we waited
For any part of you
To rub off on me.
We were young,
Uninhibited/
Wrestling
Over the hills
We’d grown
Without laws
To mind us
In an avant garde
District
Overlooking
The lake
Which...
#women
#childhood
#animals
#confessional
#LifeChangingMoment
11 reads
KayBeeMapes
Poem Published
Today 4:26am
Today 4:26am
-A single Mother
I want to do right by you
nurture every bit of light that shines in you I want to be everything I never had to you
Show you things I could've seen but never really got the chance to,
Cause I had to make decisions that ill make sure you never have to if its up to me.
I want you to know, if nobody else mommy has you,
and you have me.
And I'm proud if that too
even if it ends up just me and you.
Even if its because of you that I was reborn, even if its because of you that I reformed.
It's because of you my heart sings a song, and its because of you I...
nurture every bit of light that shines in you I want to be everything I never had to you
Show you things I could've seen but never really got the chance to,
Cause I had to make decisions that ill make sure you never have to if its up to me.
I want you to know, if nobody else mommy has you,
and you have me.
And I'm proud if that too
even if it ends up just me and you.
Even if its because of you that I was reborn, even if its because of you that I reformed.
It's because of you my heart sings a song, and its because of you I...
#happiness
#love
#hope
#gratitude
#admiration
14 reads
0 Comments
thewatcher33
Poem Published
Today 1:17am
Today 1:17am
Bros Over Hoes
It was not the first time he had done this and it most definitely would not be the last. I never tried to figure him out, I always believed that blood was thicker than water even if your brother was sleeping with your girl, fiance or wife. I was suppose to overlook his actions and blame the women. Except this one time someone realized although she had already slept with him. I met Helena at a wedding reception I was djing at in Jamaica Queens. I had went downstairs and out of the building to the van parked in the parking lot to grab some extra stantion needles just in case. As I was returning...
#breakup
#betrayal
25 reads
0 Comments
Nari
Spellbound
Spellbound
Poem Published
Yesterday 10:00pm
Yesterday 10:00pm
Debra Nanny
You were some
Budding
Young adult
With a short
Punk haircut
That excited me
(5/6th grade)
Like an older sister;
Instead
You were my
Jazz teacher
But I still practiced
My aerials on you
In hours outside
Of normal instruction
Time
Which was reserved for
The dance class
(You could do that kinda thing
Back then
Without any intermediaries
Like a parent’s signature.
Without legal...
Budding
Young adult
With a short
Punk haircut
That excited me
(5/6th grade)
Like an older sister;
Instead
You were my
Jazz teacher
But I still practiced
My aerials on you
In hours outside
Of normal instruction
Time
Which was reserved for
The dance class
(You could do that kinda thing
Back then
Without any intermediaries
Like a parent’s signature.
Without legal...
#women
#childhood
#animals
#confessional
#LifeChangingMoment
19 reads
adamtherapy69
adam templar
adam templar
Poem Published
21st Oct 2018 1:28pm
21st Oct 2018 1:28pm
compost
THE COMPOST (Finality)
On the day my ex wife moved out, I decided it was best not to be around.
We had two compost bins (donated by the Council) she took both.
Yes, did not even leave the compost, but on opening the garage doors I was greeted by the mountains of toys and other debris that 20 years of married life had given. It took me 3 days, with a white van, making excursions to the tip every hour or so, to clear it all away. The landlord of the property was the Church. The church overlooked my home, and people came and went while I moved. Nobody came to help, even...
On the day my ex wife moved out, I decided it was best not to be around.
We had two compost bins (donated by the Council) she took both.
Yes, did not even leave the compost, but on opening the garage doors I was greeted by the mountains of toys and other debris that 20 years of married life had given. It took me 3 days, with a white van, making excursions to the tip every hour or so, to clear it all away. The landlord of the property was the Church. The church overlooked my home, and people came and went while I moved. Nobody came to help, even...
#sadness
#hope
#breakup
#LifeStruggles
#despair
10 reads
0 Comments
T_V_Walker
Poem Published
16th Oct 2018 11:35pm
16th Oct 2018 11:35pm
Three Killers
Three killers sat round a fire planning their next murder. The underpass was silent and their shadows magnified on the concrete with the flicker of the flame. Bones sat with deranged eyes, his hand held close to the flames. It was a test to show the others he was the leader. He held his hand there until the flesh began to char. His face was emotionless the England tattoo on his forehead worn with age and his baldness grotesque in the dark. The other two watched as he pulled his hand away. He didn't flinch. The youngest of the three, Black, put his hand in the flames and recoiled in an instant...
#murder
#death
#evil #scary
#evil #scary
18 reads
0 Comments
AEMelia564
Y
Y
Poem Published
14th Oct 2018 11:42am
14th Oct 2018 11:42am
Human
We will gather
All knowledge
From the place
Called womb
Fertile stems grew in the ovary as we swam in the luke warm foster waters
Hearing the music through the navel cord, where stillness and waves is what we are.
And who we are floats from them. Perhaps even this is the best nine months of our life.
From the Higher octaves
We joureyed
To the middle worlds
They called it Earth as noone knew Her. Perhaps she was an orphan of creation.
It was said, that to Her we belonged. And...
All knowledge
From the place
Called womb
Fertile stems grew in the ovary as we swam in the luke warm foster waters
Hearing the music through the navel cord, where stillness and waves is what we are.
And who we are floats from them. Perhaps even this is the best nine months of our life.
From the Higher octaves
We joureyed
To the middle worlds
They called it Earth as noone knew Her. Perhaps she was an orphan of creation.
It was said, that to Her we belonged. And...
#anger
#dark
39 reads
8 Comments
Nari
Spellbound
Spellbound
Poem Published
14th Oct 2018 6:12am
14th Oct 2018 6:12am
Jump
The summer was
Preoccupied
By Mr. Freeze pops,
An open fire hydrant
And colorful hair beads,
In the 70s
Urban stratosphere
That imparted
A down home
Feel
Where people
Actually knew
their neighbors,
You received
Sex education
In a book called
“Where Did I Come From?”
And the transfer
Of wealth
Through
Tort, confiscation
And...
Preoccupied
By Mr. Freeze pops,
An open fire hydrant
And colorful hair beads,
In the 70s
Urban stratosphere
That imparted
A down home
Feel
Where people
Actually knew
their neighbors,
You received
Sex education
In a book called
“Where Did I Come From?”
And the transfer
Of wealth
Through
Tort, confiscation
And...
#childhood
#Africa
#confessional
#tragedy
#redemption
48 reads
Sunwolfe1745
Poem Published
12th Oct 2018 5:02am
12th Oct 2018 5:02am
Finding healing
It has been over 34 years since I lost myself to the corrupt hands of my abuser. But I have made a decision which hopefully will return a piece of my soul to me. Something that will also keep other children from being broken, or maybe make it possible for them to heal. My gut tells me that a pedophile who has not been caught is still abusing children. Well I know where my abuser lives and I am writing the local States Attorney to see if an investigation can be opened up into his affiliations to youth organizations. I have thought about this and even though a part of me would get...
#strength
#LifeStruggles
#redemption #MovingOn
#redemption #MovingOn
13 reads
2 Comments
ElusiveSleepfall
MatthewZ
MatthewZ
Poem Published
11th Oct 2018 11:46pm
11th Oct 2018 11:46pm
Dork of the Week: Elusive Sleepfall. Yay! (Inspired by true events).
WebMinstrel: Welcome, we've created a new honorary category, Dork of the Week, and this weeks winner(and I suspect someone who will be the recipient quite often) is: Elusive Sleepfall, who has been a member for a couple of weeks(even though it seems interminably longer), and writes in a variety of forms, including: Stupid, Dull, and What the Hell Does That Mean??.
WebMinstrel: Matt, your writing seems to be...terrible, yet mildly nauseating. What's your secret?
Matt(Elusive Sleepfall): Well, I'm kind of a moron, so imbecility comes easy to me. I also have a degree in...
WebMinstrel: Matt, your writing seems to be...terrible, yet mildly nauseating. What's your secret?
Matt(Elusive Sleepfall): Well, I'm kind of a moron, so imbecility comes easy to me. I also have a degree in...
#Africa
#MentalHealth
#bees
#SixWordStory
#prison
37 reads
17 Comments
Layla
Poem Published
10th Oct 2018 2:20am
10th Oct 2018 2:20am
The Details
Do we live to write or do we write to live?
Is truth a configuration of a subjective perspective?
How much of truth do we owe to the craft and to the audience?
Does it really matter?
That’s how the conundrum starts for writers.
These question we rarely ask of ourselves when we feel that unexplainable tow and tug pulling away from everything and anything around us burrowing in the vertigo of solitude, faithful to that single surge of emotion rising from the depths of the soul flourishing through each and every sense, trajectory of flight in animated...
Is truth a configuration of a subjective perspective?
How much of truth do we owe to the craft and to the audience?
Does it really matter?
That’s how the conundrum starts for writers.
These question we rarely ask of ourselves when we feel that unexplainable tow and tug pulling away from everything and anything around us burrowing in the vertigo of solitude, faithful to that single surge of emotion rising from the depths of the soul flourishing through each and every sense, trajectory of flight in animated...
#LifeAsAWriter
#metaphor
72 reads
13 Comments
DU Poetry : Long Non-Fiction Prose: Short Stories, Diary Entries and Letters
