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Welcome to pathetic.org , a community for poets and poetry enthusiasts alike. To navigate the site, simply move your mouse over the main categories above to activate menu options. pathetic.org is a free resource for poets to maintain poetry libraries and to publish their works, virtually. If you're looking for a community with a wide variety of poetic styles and voices, you've found the right place. Simply browse through the Poetry Center menu above to find the best in modern amateur poetry.

Also be sure to signup for our Poem of the Day emailed directly to your inbox, by clicking Here.

Community News

Important Update: Transition from pathetic.org to eMuse.org - 03/16/2025
by Gavin M Roy

After years of intermittent development, eMuse is almost ready to launch. As part of this transition, pathetic.org will be shutdown and will redirect to eMuse.org.
What you need to know:

* No accounts will be automatically created
* No content will be automatically transferred
* When creating your new eMuse account, you'll have the option to import your data from pathetic.org

We look forward to welcoming you to the new platform.

Hello, Survivors of 2020! - 01/03/2021
by V. Blake

Please check my post out in the General forum when you have a moment. Thanks!

Stay Healthy - 03/18/2020
by V. Blake

Hope you and yours are well.

A Congratulations to Leonard M Hawkes - 03/27/2019
by V. Blake

..who just published his first volume of poetry! Entitled Leaves from my Box Elder, it comes just in time for the 150th anniversary of the driving of the Golden Spike.

So, like the title says--congrats, Leonard!

Older News
Poem of the Day for 03/31/26

Frail we dance.
by Johnny Crimson

She whispered to me
that "we all dream with the phases of the moon."
Her half skeleton face gleaming in the neon green light
bouncing off the swamp of fallen stars.
Her jaw moved faster than her words
and then suddenly not at all.

We glanced at the falling leaves
and held hands bone to bone in the Autumn chill.
The skin from my knees began to peel down to my ankles,and
you're reassuring glance let me know this was to be expected.

Walking backwards our bones shaking fiercly in the greenlight,
the skin flying in front of us leaves a trail to where we
had come from.

Gleaming white and sanded skeletons we now stand nervous pretty dolls.
Hovering atop our sunken graves.
Let the wind lock our now broken jaws and take this dying leap of faith with me
my sweet.

The dunce funeral boy never wrote the names on our tombstones.

So may we remain Anonymously in love for eternity.

10/19/2009

Visit Johnny Crimson's Library

Frail we dance. Copyright © 2026

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