Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
factual or fake
terse or sensationalist
trying to be as objective as possible
shamelessly partisan and polemic

or simply hate speech
esoteric remedies for all problems
cat videos and personal snapshots
on asocial networks

whether we believe it or not
it is difficult to avoid it
in our great age
of real-time digital information

the abundance of unreliables
is almost legendary    
     like hearsay in the Middle Ages
     when wandering minstrels
     spread the tidings
        more or less

a challenge to all people with brains
not yet oversaturated with daily trivia

to decide what to believe

doublecheck

do follow-ups
If the sun is the crown of the earth,
Happily raising life,
From the comfort stillness of sleep,
Then I am a second born moon-
No heir to the throne.

I sneak by the day sky like jealousy,
To only move oceans as teardrops,
Aching for a dream.
Written July 9th, 2016. Read a
notebook of mine and fell in love with a few oldies.
Peter Davies Jan 2015
The faceless young woman
Who lives in my house
Is rare as a spirit to see.
She hides inside mirrors
And chillies the room,
But it hasn't been bothering me.

Although she's not social
And odd to the eye,
She often has some kind of glow.
And one time over tea
She spoke slowly of
The time that she spent down below.

She had lived through the plague
And the crusades and more
But died one black day of a noose.
For the people, she said,
Back then and e'er since
Found women with voices obtuse.
This was inspired by the odd rituals of witch trials in the Middle Ages. A little dark but hey

— The End —