April 19, 2019
by Nick Anthony
A clear alpine pond
A serene reflected moon
But what lurks beneath?
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Posted in Nick, Poetry |
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September 27, 2018
by thereluctantpoet
By Charles Robert Lindholm
Eleven Old Men
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Posted in chuck, Poetry |
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March 19, 2018
by thereluctantpoet

By Charles Robert Lindholm
Is The Truth,
The Whole Truth
Really Important
For Everything
You Know And Believe?
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Posted in chuck, Poetry |
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October 17, 2017
by thereluctantpoet
By Charles Robert Lindholm
She was hiding
in the shadows
in the corner
of the room
while couples
filled the dance floor
she was there alone
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Posted in chuck, Poetry |
5 Comments »
July 7, 2017
by thereluctantpoet
By Charles Robert Lindholm
like a joke
that goes over
your head
and the meanings
that hide
between the lines
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Posted in chuck, Poetry |
3 Comments »
July 5, 2017
by thereluctantpoet
By Charles Robert Lindholm
The secrets you keep
in the shadows and darkness
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Posted in chuck, Poetry |
4 Comments »
May 25, 2017
by scatterednotebooks
That’s me there –
in the hallway –
hands in my pockets, I make myself small.
My eyes to the floor,
I weave my way class-ward
trying to blend in to the walls
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Posted in Linda, Poetry |
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February 1, 2016
by Jem Croucher

Cowering from the winter
Springtime hides away
Hiding in dark corners
through the chill of day
But far from wasting time
a build of confidence begun
which will when time is right
burst out brightly with the sun
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Posted in Jeremy, Photos, Poetry |
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February 4, 2015
by KeiB
I took down the photographs of you that stood on the Moroccan inlay accent table at my elbow. I replaced them with jewel-tone vases and miniature orchids, a tiny version of the ones in your greenhouse. Your scarf is gone too. I want to remember winters that are more like the ones you know, the ones that I always teased you about. More like Muncie and less like Muncey. I gave it to a homeless man who had long hair and a beard and looked not in the least like you but made my heart leap nonetheless.
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Posted in Karin, Poetry |
4 Comments »
July 24, 2013
by wordypenguin
I am not who you see
Not who you think me to be
The real me, no one knows
If anyone cares, no one shows
It’s easy to feed lies
When I have a disguise
I can’t even tell who I am
My personality is just a scam
It’s become routine to keep up the act
It no longer takes any effort to enact
I’ve become victim of my own devise
And it’s leading me to my demise
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Posted in Poetry, Tanveer |
3 Comments »