Poetry

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The Mighty Frog (Original Poetry)

25 Apr 2026 1 minute read 0 comments Krisz Rokk

Drip, drop,you appearedfrom underneath a rockCheekywinkinghoping I won’t catchyour arrogant walk. A scientistwith a clear messageI look at youyou stare backI open my eyesWhy are you still there?Go away! This can’t be true.You’re a character in a fair...

Learn To Ride The Burning Icicles

24 Apr 2026 2 minute read 1 comment Nathan Payne

Zelle: [email protected] Editor's note: Because it's meaningless and dumb, the line "burn-unit bicycles" in the poem above has always bothered me. Until now, I never bothered to look it in the eye long enough to get it to turn away. Part...

The Eclectic Geomet Three by Will Jones

22 Apr 2026 1 minute read 0 comments Will Jones

ᓚᘏᗢ 🧔🏽‍♂️ So I found myself lost in this feeling so slow so what is this, I constructed thought From a Mossberg, releasing a shell shot. ᓚᘏᗢ As a cartouche worthy dog as so contrasting going to Angelouan nuance. A bird may sing, remembering...

Purple Sky (Original Poetry)

19 Apr 2026 1 minute read 0 comments Krisz Rokk

A web of tunnelsunderneath the Earthhousing a carnivore speciescold bloodedeviljealous of the human race. The treaty enslaved the Greysdesperately trying to negotiatetheir way up the scaleto gain control over carbon sleevessoon to be interbredwith si...

Where the World Runs Out of Sky

12 Apr 2026 1 minute read 0 comments Prompted Beauty

They did not stay where the roads were safe,where the clocks still ticked and the neighbors knew their names.They walked to the edge of the last mountain —the one that tears through clouds like a held breath —and then they jumped. Not away from some...

Lacy (Original Poetry)

11 Apr 2026 1 minute read 0 comments Krisz Rokk

Pick up the phonewhen a loved one callsIt might be the last signalyour physique interceptsin the third-dimensional décor. Speak to meone more timebefore you exitthe Earthly splendor. She took care of youloved youBefore the lights went outshe passed t...

The Arithmetic of Letting Go

9 Apr 2026 1 minute read 1 comment Prompted Beauty

There was a hand once — open, unhurried, sure of itself, the kind that reached for things before it knew their names. Then came the scissors. Small. Precise. Labeled neatly — a. — as if loss, too, follows an instruction manual, as if every wound has...