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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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.
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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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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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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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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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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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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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.