Arts + Entertainment

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Can I Say This Plainly Enough?
For years, you left me watching the door, Yearning for you to walk through it, Once more. Now, time has passed, And here you are,
By Carol Ann Townendabout 6 hours ago in Poets
Is Donald Trump Planning to Deploy Nuclear Weapons During the War?
As tensions between the United States and Iran have escalated into active conflict, many observers worry about how far the U.S. might go — including whether President Donald J. Trump is planning to use nuclear weapons in the war. This is an extremely serious question, but the facts show that there is no credible evidence that Trump has publicly announced a plan to deploy nuclear weapons in this war. Instead, his administration’s actions and statements reflect deterrence policy, modernization efforts, and aggressive conventional military strategy — not a confirmed nuclear attack plan.
By Skabout 6 hours ago in Geeks
The Locksmith’s Last Key
The Locksmith’s Last Key He came at dusk, with iron breath, Keys whispering low in his coat, Each one held a door long buried,
By George’s Girl 2026 about 6 hours ago in Poets
Above From Below Part 6
Dragging in Major Kohl had not been in the plan, but he was unsure why she'd bothered to find him in Texas. This wasn't her fight, and Nico wasn't her brother. In Rick Steele's distrustful mind, something about the Major turning on her command, and against the country, by sharing the truth with him, didn't sit well. As he hadn't stared a gift horse in the mouth, Major Kohl's revelations about Nico's accident were a blessing, but to Rick, it wasn't that simple.
By Jason Mortonabout 6 hours ago in Fiction
Icarus
Mankind is Icarus and our own pride is the wind that deafened him as he flew, drowning out any other thoughts or sensibilities
By Donny Foleyabout 6 hours ago in Poets
Shoreline
I tossed you away. I tossed you away and yet you return. Reminding me I’m broken, useless- Like you. With each passing wave,
By Elizabeth Butlerabout 7 hours ago in Poets
broken mirrors
I am my father's daughter He sees his tenacity in me I am my grandmother’s granddaughter She sees her green thumb in me
By Alys Revnaabout 7 hours ago in Poets
Time Is a Mother
Time is a mother with silent hands, rocking the hours we cannot hold, she hums in shadows, soft and deep, turning our memories into gold.
By Zain writesabout 7 hours ago in Poets