Poets
The beauty and power of poetry. Share your love of the written word and become a Poet today.
Stats
Stories
- 172,691
Creators
- 41,048
Top Stories
Stories in Poets that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
Chéri
Doe eyes small nose lips red perfect would be said, What a pleasant beauty, must've been blessed. Dancing fireflies couldn't compete, the fire burnt
Where the fault lies
An acrostic piece for my poem-a-day challenge that has become more of a poem-mostly-every-day thing. It is what it is, lol!
Heather HublerPublished 2 days ago in PoetsA Breath Of Fresh Air
Why do they call it "falling in love" when it is something much more romantic than that? I didn't fall into your arms, let go of my defenses, spill my vulnerabilities out from my heart and let you catch the pieces.
After the Beep
My ghost likes to roam and chase inky dreams. If shaken awake, it screams many screams. - So please don’t disturb,
Sincerity
True sincerity is the scariest thing to hear It hurts to have others truly know our pain To know someone that has stood in the same rain
Atomic HistorianPublished 4 days ago in PoetsCoffee with Taylor Swift
Like sitting across from a tarot card reader You somehow find my darkest, weakest moments And tear them from my chest with no warning,
Kiersten WeldonPublished 26 days ago in PoetsA Flower Song
Apparently the Aztecs, Toltecs, Chichimecs and other Mexica were crazy about poetry. Despite the book-burning, slaughter, and epidemics that characterized the early stages of the Spanish conquest of the empires of Mexico, some hundreds of poems from the height of their tradition come down to us in Classical Nahuatl, preserved by Nahua and Spanish scholars of the 16th century. One of the most famous poets, Nezahualcoyotl, was a sage-king who opposed the cult of human sacrifice associated with Tezcatlipoca, God of the Smoking Mirror, and favored Quetzalcoatl, the Feathered Serpent. Flowers and feathers were the favorite offering of the Plumed Serpent. Moreover, flowers and feathers are a metaphor for poetry. Individual words, scattered petals, the down of tropical birds. The temples of blood sacrifice could be transformed into temples of flower and song. A sublimated offering to the Heart of Earth and the Heart of Sky encapsulated in the Classical Nahuatl kenning for poetry: in xōchitl in cuīcatl, meaning, "the flower and the song." The following poem is part of a longer work, and is in a state of flux, so take the waters as they flow:
Rob AngeliPublished 4 days ago in Poetsstay
i can never make them stay. they are like orbits always in motion around me but never holding my hand. they are like shooting stars
Collections
Themed story collections curated by the Vocal moderators.
Only the Classics
The roots from which poetry as we know it has flourished. Taking you back to the classical era, one stanza at a time.
Life as a Poet Knows It
Industry tips for new poets. Welcome to the Poets family.
America in Verse
One Nation, United by Poetry. Exploring the United States of America through word.
Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Poets.
Dried Bones
I feel so small Miniscuel Standing next to Dried bones in formation Ancient and decaying No tissue or sinew To connect his bits and pieces
KA StefanaPublished 13 minutes ago in PoetsScars to Sunsets
You turned my scars to sunsets so much so that they healed Do you not believe me yet When I tell you This is how I feel?
Frankie MartinelliPublished 20 minutes ago in PoetsThe Artist's Promise
At some point in the far-off past, in an inquisitive town settled between moving slants and mumbling woods, there continued to be a young woman named Elara. Elara was known all through the town for her agreeableness and splendid smile, which could illuminate even the haziest days. She continued with a clear life, working at the town cake kitchen, where the scent of recently warmed bread and prepared products drifted through the air, drawing in people from miles around.
Rony SutradarPublished 38 minutes ago in PoetsThe Totem
An owl flew into my car when I was driving home yesterday. It was dark, and I was surprised. It was only a graze (I think that helped),
Brooke FarrarPublished 39 minutes ago in PoetsMoments in Time
We have only moments in time. Past/future is projection; * wasted time/energy in hope or review. Only the present moment is real.
David MuñozPublished 41 minutes ago in PoetsI am tempted
Oh, just a sec, Looks bright out there: Money's back! The job went well! People are busy, Starting to shop; Loans are out,
Kamal O. TouhamiPublished about an hour ago in PoetsEchoes of Love: The Boomerang's Promise
Across the horizon, where hopes may stray, In the realm of dreams, where hearts hold sway, There flies a boomerang, in elegant play,
Aurora PenumbraPublished about an hour ago in PoetsGloomy Days
Living in the land of the unpredictable. Never knowing what the day may bring. ~ One days it's sunny. While the next we must dream of the sky.
Anthony TerryPublished about 2 hours ago in Poets
Creators We’re Loving
The creative faces behind your favorite stories.
Tressa Rose
140 published stories
kory salajka
40 published stories
Bridget Couture
34 published stories
Sara Wilson
62 published stories
Hayley Matto
35 published stories
Breezy
12 published stories
Jada Ferguson
84 published stories
Cathy Schieffelin
20 published stories
Mike Singleton - Mikeydred
2206 published stories
Real Poetic
291 published stories
Denise Larkin
140 published stories
Rebecca Morton
61 published stories