Grilled Cheese

ExploreLog inSign up
Terms of UsePrivacy PolicyCommunity StandardsHelpGet the app

Grilled Cheese is a product of Village Compute

Version devBuilt at: 2026-10-17 18:04:42 EDT

PhotosVideosAllPeople
LatestRanked
"The Shark" by George Henry Boker — musical poem on V2Melody
"Love and Jealousy" by William Walsh — musical poem on V2Melody
Photo, no description
faces lined beyond their years the couple sat and wept in silence scattered all about them drying limbs upon the dusty ground charred, hacked, or broken lay their life the lives of countless generations on this ancient land gnarled uprooted never more to fruit although she knew the answer asking only as a more articulated cry of pain she cried Why us?
The clouds on the night sky
walking on a road, blue sky above, mountains in the distance
I should've kept the pickled papaya in my bag placing an offering of cold white rice on the rug the concoction unearthed from my bag grated papaya strewn on a blue tarp desiccated by the heat of many days anchovies stewing in their own guts ambered juices spiced with bird’s eye chilli decayed stench erupted from the jar I should've kept the pickled papaya in my bag they continued lapping their bejeweled jam a diadem adorning their valentine but the pungent taste clung to the roof of my mouth breathing fire through my nostrils bits concealed in the crevices of my teeth the rice cleansed my palate
"The Strange Music" by G. K. Chesterton — musical poem on V2Melody
Photo, no description
Photo, no description
Photo, no description
Banner image for Bill Kochman's poem No Link I Think featuring author portrait, ink quills and billkochman.com/Poetry link
Photo, no description
The Wretched House 'Round the Corner by Richard H. Fay Behind rampant briars Blooming on a spring morn, Crooked walls hold dark truths. Below its frowning eaves, Past windows boarded up, That house harbours secrets Rumoured in hushed whispers. Sharp thorns and padlocked door Keep out unwanted guests, Keep in the restless dead. Beneath a noonday sun Warming a summer's day, That ramshackle abode Of unknown threats and fears Exudes an algid air, Chilling down to the bone. I shiver as I walk Anxiously past a porch That glowers with contempt At all such passers-by. Inside decrepit rooms On a crisp autumn eve, Eldritch voices murmur Words not meant to be heard By any living thing. Pale shadows creep across A decayed parlour floor To peer through jagged cracks. I feel strange eyes staring And hurry on my way. 1 of 2
Photo, no description
I Know Your Game It’s one of those days, a quiet weekend morning, chores to be done, sunlight drifting, a warming kitchen floor. While kneeling down to fill the dish, suddenly something pokes my hip I know your game and look all around me, and yes, you poke me once more. In the corner of my eye, a stick swings back and forth I look up—again, as if I don't know you're there. I call your name, you bark! My balance gone, you jump up high, to wet my chin, a sloppy kiss My dearest dachshund, Joshua. — Colorado Flower
Photo, no description
Photo, no description
Load more