#vssdaily

[arcassin21]

Full poem in link below!!!

"TAOLG (Doom)"

[misterpoet333]

herbs & spices blended with her perfume

and the oil coated her lips

a lovely evening getting pizza

was a great start and beginning

[arcassin21]

Np At all

Full Poem in Link below!!!!!

"Np At All"

[arcassin21]

"The Universe Favors Us Now Ep"

(Poetry project)

11 poems

5/1/25

©abpoetry2025.

[fayreskye]

Hello

Seeing you across the room,

I wanted to approach

but fear held me still.

It was safer where I stood:

no chance of rejection,

no chance your smile would fade.

Where I lacked courage,

you found yours.

Our eyes met briefly;

I looked away.

You didn’t.

You crossed the room,

took a chance,

and said hello.

✒️: Fayre Skye

[misterpoet333]

espresso's medley

of roasted adventure

leaves us savoring rich notes

of caramel and chocolate

@MisterPoet333

Prolific poet on X @jmadmart and Instagram. Inspired by the classical traditions of Love, Romance, Nature, Humanity, an...

[misterpoet333]

bold sweet syrup

raining sunshine

welcomes my fork

into this chewy-crisp

waffle tower

[elinor-taylor]

Morsels.

To save ourselves from annihilation (or so they promised) these new gods demanded a sacrifice. Human, alive, juicy and plump.

The children. They wanted the children.

Though that was their delicacy of choice, we were in no doubt there'd be more to follow. Gods like those that claimed our world never settle for mere aperitifs. Not when there are endless herds of mature livestock to be had.

None of this came as any great surprise, of course. We'd known what would happen, having been tipped off some years back by a kindly interstellar pilot, running from his own destruction.

It's on the school syllabus, for heaven's sake: The Warnings of Haneesh, a prophecy of what would befall us. Of what Haneesh, (a name roughly translated from the pilot's own native tongue), had seen happen to his own people firsthand.

He stayed here a while, this alien traveller, shared what knowledge he could with us, then left, with a full stomach and a good grasp of English, plus a smattering of other Earth languages. Escaped to somewhere, anywhere, else.

'Sorry I can't stay,' he told news crews and reporters, after several years of our hospitality. 'They'll be coming for you, now.'

He was clearly very afraid. I was a child myself, then. But what I remember most about the day he blasted into space was that not a one of us blamed him for going.

In the decades since, children have been born, trained as warriors, grown old, and died peacefully in their beds, having never needed to act in the face of invasion.

Until now.

The vile creatures loom above us, making their gruesome demands, salivating at the prospect of slicing our babies thinly, eating them raw. Like carpaccio. Like sushi. And we usher the first wave of offerings outside.

I see the same fear in the young one's eyes that I saw on the face of Haneesh on the television, and in the newspaper clippings showing him getting into his ship, waving goodbye to another doomed planet.

I get it now. We all do. The new gods are fucking terrifying.

We've come to accept that we may lose some of the children. We know, but more importantly the children know, that.

They go anyway. Warriors, all.

I watch them head out and, Christ alive, I'm taken by how brave they are. Especially the little ones. These kids, they're not just ready, they're third generation ready.

They're come-at-me-motherfuckers ready.

They're heads up, shoulders back, knives in sleeves and full quivers of arrows strapped to backs ready.

These kids will save us all or die trying.

They'll slip down the devil's gullet head first and cut out his heart from the inside.

The new gods don't know it, but it's them who should be afraid. And if they're not shitting themselves yet, they soon will be. I almost feel bad for them

Almost.