HEARTH · POEM
Away
On a keke ride through Monrovia, a young man juggles flirtation, faith, and memory—beautiful women, guilty thoughts, and streets that won’t let him go, writt...
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Tiny Prophecies
Where the little truths go when
they’re tired of shouting.
Tiny Prophecies is a new community-built literary journal of Hearth, Ruin & Whimsy — publishing short poems, flash, and dreamlike works from writers everywhere.
"If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry."
~ Emily Dickinson
Field Notes for New Arrivals
This is a small archive for people who feel too much: burnt-out empaths, whimsical witches, reluctant philosophers, soft creatures in a loud world.
Wander by mood using the buttons below. Let a title snag you. If something in you exhales while you’re reading, that piece was for you. If something in you starts to speak back, write it down—you’re already part of this place.
Have a Prophecy of Your Own?
Tiny Prophecies isn’t meant to be a solo spellbook. If you have a poem, flash piece, or tiny fragment that feels like Hearth, Ruin, or Whimsy, I’d love to read it.
No fees. No pay yet (we’re small and growing), and you keep all rights— you’re just lending your words to this strange little hallway for a while.
Submit a ProphecyEditor’s Picks
Three doorways into Tiny Prophecies.
Browse by Mood
Pick Hearth, Ruin, or Whimsy to change the weather.
All Tiny Prophecies
Newest first. Follow the mood that tugs at you.
WHIMSY · POEM
Inevitable Ham & Cheese
A liminal gas station on the edge of town serves ham-and-cheese, cigarettes, and uncanny prophecies in this Whimsy House poem by Joshua Walker (The Last Bard).
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HEARTH · POEM
What if?
A Hearth poem by Cole McNamara peering into a gentler timeline where clocks lose their power, calendars stop caging you, and life is measured in breaths.
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WHIMSY · POEM
Night of Quantica
On the night of Quantica, a single choice to move differently cracks shame open and rewrites the body’s story in this Whimsy poem by Cole McNamara.
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HEARTH · POEM
Stress Is Not Real
A grounding poem by Cole McNamara naming stress as a mind-ghost, then inviting you back into play, presence, and embodied creativity.
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HEARTH · POEM
Sixth Street Park
A Hearth-side poem by Cole McNamara visiting a “dangerous” park in a logging town and discovering stillness, memory, and quiet magic instead of chaos.
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RUIN · POEM
13 Ways to Fake a God
A Ruin-ward prose poem by Cole McNamara raging at money, pyramids, and surveillance culture while reminding you real wealth has always lived inside you.
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HEARTH · POEM
The Universe Started in a Sandbox
A Hearth Tiny Prophecies piece by Cole McNamara that turns a childhood sandbox into a creation myth, asking who you were before rules and shame.
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WHIMSY · POEM
To: The Star Pretending to Be a Lamp
A note from the Department of Whimsy by Cole McNamara, diagnosing your inner spark as dusty, offended, and absolutely still dangerous in the best way.
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RUIN · POEM
Priority List
A Ruin poem by Cole McNamara about a system that tracks every minor infraction while shielding the powerful, and what it costs to live under that gaze.
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HEARTH · POEM
I Am a Writer
A self-doubting, self-claiming monologue by Cole McNamara that spirals through imposter feelings before finally accepting the title: writer.
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RUIN · POEM
Decline
A formal, looping poem by Cole McNamara raising glass after glass to aging bodies, eroding faith, and the hard truth that everything, eventually, must decline.
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HEARTH · POEM
That's Life
A quiet nature poem by Cole McNamara tracing envy from mice to owls to ghosts and earth itself, showing how every form of life longs for another’s vantage.
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RUIN · POEM
The Monster
A villanelle by Cole McNamara about growing up queer in a hostile world, where desire is called a monster until the speaker chooses to keep it after all.
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HEARTH · POEM
Culdesac Crew
A Hearth nostalgia spell by Cole McNamara for pinecone wars, dumpster dives, magic battles, and winter Pokémon—killing the myth that childhood would last for...
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RUIN · POEM
Left Behind
A brief, sharp poem by Cole McNamara that pulls back the word “beggar” and contrasts safe childhood rooms with the cold sidewalks where people are left behind.
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WHIMSY · POEM
The Diddleyes
a Whimsy poem by Cole McNamara written in nonsense tongue, where a many-eyed monster stalks Misember and language itself starts to shiver.
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RUIN · POEM
The Machine Drinks First
A dark, cautionary poem by Cole McNamara about a drought-strangled world that feeds its last water to machines while everything else withers.
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WHIMSY · POEM
Bumblebee Knees
A pure Whimsy Tiny Prophecies poem by Cole McNamara, where bumblebee knees, glass turtles and lemonade seas turn night into a soft, surreal dream.
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RUIN · POEM
The Thickest Species
A Ruin-leaning Tiny Prophecies poem by Cole McNamara calling humans the thickest species, ignoring every warning sign as we scroll toward the edge.
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HEARTH · POEM
You Are Not Alone
A Hearth Tiny Prophecies poem by Cole McNamara reminding you that idols, strangers, and family are all tired too—and you still have more life in you.
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RUIN · POEM
This Land Was Made For You and Me
A Ruin poem by Cole McNamara twisting a patriotic refrain into a sharp critique of hollow leaders and claimed land.
Read this prophecy →Tiny Prophecies is part of the Mercurial Silver creative universe — a shared community journal of poems, dreamwork, and strange light.