Non-Fiction Prose by Top Critiquers
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
Non-poetic writing including diary extracts, journal entries, letters, essays and art
Poems written by Top Critiquers
Ahavati
Poem Published
18th Feb 2019 00:15am
18th Feb 2019 00:15am
Anal Cabal
Prince Nala lie back
on an abaca hammock
enjoying fresh bacca
and masala under a gossamer
cabana aside the Ganges River—
natural light seeping
through its beautiful weave—
acacia-branched shadows
moving as smoke atop the fabric.
As servants tended blains
upon the soles of his feet,
he supped while contemplating
penning an alcaic verse
for his Princess Damayanti
( having been chosen
as her wedded husband
so many years ago...
on an abaca hammock
enjoying fresh bacca
and masala under a gossamer
cabana aside the Ganges River—
natural light seeping
through its beautiful weave—
acacia-branched shadows
moving as smoke atop the fabric.
As servants tended blains
upon the soles of his feet,
he supped while contemplating
penning an alcaic verse
for his Princess Damayanti
( having been chosen
as her wedded husband
so many years ago...
#love
#alcohol
#historical
#philosophical
#morality
410 reads
25 Comments
Tallen
earth_empath
earth_empath
Poem Published
16th Mar 2019 11:47pm
16th Mar 2019 11:47pm
Scuttles
. . strolling through a concrete jungle
of no particular latitude or longitude
kicking empty cans that should have
been recycled a long long time ago
I guess
It was inevitable
I stumbled.
Falling into somebody’s worn out
Sandbox, I came across several
rusted out buckets.
These buckets were filled with dreams.
Left behind in haste
to escape
a decline of suburban rote living ----
would be my first thoughts. . .
impressions.
Why do we leave our dreams
Behind?
Is it because we are...
of no particular latitude or longitude
kicking empty cans that should have
been recycled a long long time ago
I guess
It was inevitable
I stumbled.
Falling into somebody’s worn out
Sandbox, I came across several
rusted out buckets.
These buckets were filled with dreams.
Left behind in haste
to escape
a decline of suburban rote living ----
would be my first thoughts. . .
impressions.
Why do we leave our dreams
Behind?
Is it because we are...
#dreams
#LifeStruggles
119 reads
12 Comments
Josh
Poem Published
27th Sep 2018 3:26pm
27th Sep 2018 3:26pm
Letters To A Young Poet - IV
Tábua
Central Portugal
My dearest J,
Well what luck! I drove into town to the post-office where they know me well and Anna-Maria immediately dug behind the counter and pulled out another letter from you, arrived from Oporto this very morning. So now I am sitting in a bistro-cafe, newly opened by a Belgian lady who grew up here, and will write my reply in time to catch today’s post.
I can see that you have an unendingly vivid imagination and have set up for yourself another inner conflict. Whilst you are sitting in a comfortable library thinking about...
Central Portugal
My dearest J,
Well what luck! I drove into town to the post-office where they know me well and Anna-Maria immediately dug behind the counter and pulled out another letter from you, arrived from Oporto this very morning. So now I am sitting in a bistro-cafe, newly opened by a Belgian lady who grew up here, and will write my reply in time to catch today’s post.
I can see that you have an unendingly vivid imagination and have set up for yourself another inner conflict. Whilst you are sitting in a comfortable library thinking about...
#LifeAsAWriter
#WritingPoetry
110 reads
2 Comments
DanielChristensen
Poem Published
4th Apr 2019 3:52am
4th Apr 2019 3:52am
Hello :)
Communication is challenging. There is an automatic amount of projection of prior experience bias and disposition onto everything in our environment. It was wisely said, "People meet us where they are, not where we are."
Anthropomorphization is common and easily recognizable as we lie together on the grass and describe the shapes in the clouds. I see a dog with floppy ears blown in the wind, one flung upward and away, one flat against his chin, one rear leg raised, perhaps an instant before micturation. You see Artemis drawing her bow defiantly to loose a quarrel against the...
Anthropomorphization is common and easily recognizable as we lie together on the grass and describe the shapes in the clouds. I see a dog with floppy ears blown in the wind, one flung upward and away, one flat against his chin, one rear leg raised, perhaps an instant before micturation. You see Artemis drawing her bow defiantly to loose a quarrel against the...
#kindness
#honesty
#dialogue
225 reads
18 Comments
SweetKittyCat5
Poem Published
21st Nov 2018 5:14am
21st Nov 2018 5:14am
The Ladies Room
#sex
#BDSM
#lover
#dirty
#bisexual
337 reads
17 Comments
MysticalRose
Poem Published
5th May 2019 12:53pm
5th May 2019 12:53pm
Nothing lasts forever
There's no use exhuming dead feelings:
you'll find nothing but brittle bones of a sordid reminder...
that nothing is immortal
Not even feelings...
you'll find nothing but brittle bones of a sordid reminder...
that nothing is immortal
Not even feelings...
#relationships
157 reads
21 Comments
shadow_starzzz
Poem Published
4th Jul 2019 5:10am
4th Jul 2019 5:10am
El Pete
There will always be places and people that I return to; no matter how far we live apart, or how our career pathways unfold.
Others, get lost in translation and can’t see the trees from the forest as they go about their day to day whilst casting aspersions and making judgements that do not correlate with certain truths in which they’re not privy to.
I guess, that’s the beauty of keeping such secrets, and what’s not known, won’t necessarily hurt too much.
It’s the only way to justify her on the peripheral of him, and we both know that she’s...
Others, get lost in translation and can’t see the trees from the forest as they go about their day to day whilst casting aspersions and making judgements that do not correlate with certain truths in which they’re not privy to.
I guess, that’s the beauty of keeping such secrets, and what’s not known, won’t necessarily hurt too much.
It’s the only way to justify her on the peripheral of him, and we both know that she’s...
#nostalgia
75 reads
2 Comments
Sky_dancer
Poem Published
3rd May 2019 1:23pm
3rd May 2019 1:23pm
RIP Barbarous Montague Smithe
I have a barista friend coming around today. That sounds so hipster twatish, and it is. It so is. But, the thing is, I tried to make a coffee this morning and the coffee machine began to shout at me in its mechanically disparaging way,
"You're doing the wrong thing, do another thing, just not that thing!"
It bellowed out in that long, drawn out, monotonous drone.
"Whaaaaat? What are you trying to say coffee machine?"
Silence.
I press the button that makes him shut up. Then, in a moment of bravery I decide now is the time for a second...
"You're doing the wrong thing, do another thing, just not that thing!"
It bellowed out in that long, drawn out, monotonous drone.
"Whaaaaat? What are you trying to say coffee machine?"
Silence.
I press the button that makes him shut up. Then, in a moment of bravery I decide now is the time for a second...
#death
#coffee
65 reads
8 Comments
snugglebuck
Poem Published
30th Mar 2017 6:01am
30th Mar 2017 6:01am
The Sexual Assualt of Snugglebuck
310 reads
1 Comment
Gahddess_Worship
Poem Published
6th Dec 2015 00:01am
6th Dec 2015 00:01am
CONSUMING LOVE
Dearest Love,
Our love affair, to me, is a great source of consolation. Whenever troubled, bored or desperate for companionship you are at my side offering unconditional comfort and diversion. The habits that we have developed are now an integral part of my daily routine. The evidence of our love is more and more apparent to myself and others as my stomach festoons more and more over my belt and it becomes increasingly harder to move. As enjoyable as it is to make love our interludes will, in the end, be the death of me. Although the idea of our relationship changing is, for me, a...
Our love affair, to me, is a great source of consolation. Whenever troubled, bored or desperate for companionship you are at my side offering unconditional comfort and diversion. The habits that we have developed are now an integral part of my daily routine. The evidence of our love is more and more apparent to myself and others as my stomach festoons more and more over my belt and it becomes increasingly harder to move. As enjoyable as it is to make love our interludes will, in the end, be the death of me. Although the idea of our relationship changing is, for me, a...
353 reads
4 Comments
Carpe_Noctem
Poem Published
10th Oct 2013 2:01pm
10th Oct 2013 2:01pm
Letters To Miki
My dearest Miki
Time is a paradox currently
as we balance our life-force between one another
You fighting to see another day
as I try and keep my mind to the task of getting to you,
living day by day, like it is the last chance
to speak to you on the phone, or to post some deadhead lyrics
on one another's facebook wall.
Perhaps, this is the last letter I post to you Miki
I know we will be together soon
walking Neruda through the misty night air, which path
do we take my love, left or right, or upside down,
back to...
Time is a paradox currently
as we balance our life-force between one another
You fighting to see another day
as I try and keep my mind to the task of getting to you,
living day by day, like it is the last chance
to speak to you on the phone, or to post some deadhead lyrics
on one another's facebook wall.
Perhaps, this is the last letter I post to you Miki
I know we will be together soon
walking Neruda through the misty night air, which path
do we take my love, left or right, or upside down,
back to...
146 reads
2 Comments
LiamReeduus
LiamReedus
LiamReedus
Poem Published
23rd May 2019 8:27pm
23rd May 2019 8:27pm
R.I.L. my brother. (Rory Cordell Reedus)
I just heard the news today
I think of the times we shared
Im not quiet sure right now what to say
Your heart was so big few could have compared.
One last time to hold your hand.
One more time to hug you close.
Lil brother confidant and friend.
I hate not knowing what i should say most
You were hard head and fought for what you believe
Yet still kind at heart to try and fix whatever it maybe.
Now im heading home to let you have eternal sleep.
Weve always said life will be what it will be
I dont want to let go but...
I think of the times we shared
Im not quiet sure right now what to say
Your heart was so big few could have compared.
One last time to hold your hand.
One more time to hug you close.
Lil brother confidant and friend.
I hate not knowing what i should say most
You were hard head and fought for what you believe
Yet still kind at heart to try and fix whatever it maybe.
Now im heading home to let you have eternal sleep.
Weve always said life will be what it will be
I dont want to let go but...
#brother
#childhood
#family #memories
#family #memories
56 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Non-Fiction Prose by Top Critiquers: Short Stories, Diary Entries and Letters
