Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
A call not about
Sweepstakes I never entered
Just a wrong number
In this minimalist yet emotionally layered haiku, the speaker recounts a seemingly mundane event: receiving a phone call that turns out to be a wrong number. However, the poem uses this incident as a metaphor for the larger emotional experience of entering new relationships—particularly the hopeful, uncertain space where romantic potential lives and often dissolves.

The poem opens with “A call not about,” a line intentionally left incomplete, evoking a sense of open possibility. It invites the reader into a moment of suspended expectation, paralleling the anticipation often felt when meeting someone new. This expectation is expanded in the second line, “Sweepstakes I never entered,” which cleverly captures the irrational hope for sudden emotional reward—desire without groundwork, love without history. The speaker knows the odds, yet still yearns.

The final line, “Just a wrong number,” delivers an understated but poignant turn. What initially felt like fate or connection is revealed as coincidence—an impersonal glitch mistaken for meaning. In doing so, the poem critiques the human tendency to romanticize beginnings, projecting possibility onto strangers, only to face the quiet disillusionment that follows.

Through everyday imagery and restrained language, the poet reflects on the fragility of expectations in modern connection. The piece resists melodrama, instead presenting romantic disappointment with irony and emotional clarity, suggesting that in love—as in life—what feels destined is often accidental.
Sarah Jun 11
Like ships without a port, I drifted aimlessly,
Then, you.
Those smoldering brown eyes, that soft, warm smile—
A distinct connection, a slow, velvet tug,
drawing me into a sensual dream.
Silence hangs between the unspoken, the unknown.
My emotions, like an iceberg in the harbor, remain hidden.
As I gaze at your photo, as if to ignite a deeper connection.
I anticipate your next message, words already warm on my lips.
Every word carefully crafted, your witty dialogue keeps me engaged.
Time slips quickly as I'm lost in this space of just you and me.
Questions posed, not always met with answers.
The steady course: from strangers, to blooming friendship, to more?
Now this magnetic pull holds me, exquisitely captive, time suspended.
This imaginary intimacy, intoxicating as divine intervention, now offers a subtle truth.
Your hand's ghost brushes my skin.
Before a murmur of your voice, or our eyes finally meet, reflections of our souls,
I cling to the fragile, aching hope we will truly meet.
On this vast, open sea of possibilities, you are my compass, guiding me to our destiny.
Online dating....
Jeremy Betts Jun 7
I sip on a drink
My demise firmly in hand
Desperate to not think
But my demons stay on-brand

©2025
Jeremy Betts May 27
How does one break free of the cage that they themselves are?
When do you become something other than the accumulation of yet another scar?
I am me, but who am I,
Not to the world but simply to myself?
Why is everyone else's
Description of who I am just a laundry list
Of obvious and subconscious
Cracks in my mental health?
What could I tell a younger me
That would change the reality of his destiny?
He would have to see all I had to see
But without tragedy would I even recognize me?

©2025
Prosper Yole May 26
Was frustrated, so decides to take a high
A pill that many said could ****
Not scared of death cos I thought it was worth
Thoughts that came in, when I lied

Life was fun when I have the dreams
Of wonderland that never ends
Nor shadows cast; with mints and means
Yet, someone tried to take my life

A half-filled cup I left behind
The remnant down, the poison skipped
As unaware as I could ever be
Fate somehow works to keeps me safe

I wish this was a song of praise
An adoration of one's immunity
But while I can't deny the rave
I pray our fate's not less the same

If for nothing, make I explain
We have those dreams that never gape
Yet not so many declare the same
My pray' your dreams will never fade
Fate, immortality, prayer, preservation
Zhanara May 25
Don’t throw the stone to your destiny!
Just smile to your destiny
Author: Zhanar
25.05.2025
Get Lost in the World,
of your own Imaginations,
Your minds is so full of,
Motivation and Creations!!

In your own World,
You can do what you want to do,
Your Aspirations and your Desires,
They All Begin within You!!

Create a World, that is
Far away from Reality,
Living within that moment, of pure Fantasy,
Let it be your goal, of pure Destiny!!

You are the mastermind, and
just let it flow out Naturally,
Once it is Accomplished,
it will turn out so Magically!!

Escape from the World,
of Hate and of Calamity,
Be one with your Utopia, of
Calmness and Tranquility!!

Just within your own Peace,
IN YOUR OWN WORLD,
OF PURE SERENITY!!!!


B.R.
Date: 5/24/2025
Sometimes, you just need to escape it all, and go to your Happy Place!!!
Cadmus May 24
🦅

Fly,
fierce child,
into the ruthless blue;

Let winds unmake you,
they will make you true.

The sky is cruel
but it remembers one:

The heart that dares to burn
brighter than the sun.

☀️
This poem is a brief invocation of courage, a metaphorical push from the ledge, urging the bold spirit to embrace risk, transformation, and pain as rites of passage. The “ruthless blue” is not only the sky but the vast unknown, the unforgiving realm of truth and transcendence. Only by allowing oneself to be “unmade” by elemental forces can the self be reforged into something authentic and luminous.
Glowing far beneath a band of burning crystal,
He drifted through silence, heartbroken and distal—
A whisper of frost left behind by trailing light,
As the comet passed far above in endless night.

He sang to distant suns, though they raised no refrain;
His voice, just a glimmer beneath the comet’s train.
No orbit, no axis, in his celestial drift—
Just the chill of pale starlight, too distant to shift.

Yet, far on the curve of the comet’s silver flare,
She wandered through silence, though as yet unaware—
A shimmer in motion and untouched by regret,
Her path not his own, though it had not diverged yet.

Though light-years apart in their transcendent array,
A trace of astral longing had altered her way,
Their paths, though still distant, were to cross in the night,
Beneath the comet, passing by in stellar flight.
©️2025 David Cornetta

From my debut collection—If Saturn Should Fall— now available!
Cheyenne Apr 25
Some people are just born to fight,
I think.

...

It's not that they're born brave,
Nor that they're born strong.
But that the universe has decided that this one,
This being will have grit
And fire
And steel in their blood.

And it shall be tested,
This cosmic mettle of theirs.
They'll face trial after trial,
be broken and damaged in countless ways.

But this one was born to fight.
Maybe it's not the life they would have chosen,
For maybe they'd love to lay down their arms.

Yet they were born to fight
For the weak.
It's what they know.
It's what they do best.
It's all they can do.
Next page