Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Poets.
Never Would / Never Could
First off I never thought that I'd be underwater Drowning without you Guess I'll take take the forfeit, cause I'm the one that caused this
Frankie MartinelliPublished 3 years ago in PoetsYou Don't know love
So how is it possible? For you to leave me.. What happened to everything? All the words said? All that love you showed me?
Lesly ZamudioPublished 3 years ago in PoetsFarmers Run The World
There is a mother’s day, a father’s day, Christmas day, thanksgiving day, labour day, independence day, fools day, and no farmers day.
Kuna Matata
Kuna matata The rivers are drying The fishes are dying The leaves are greying The trees are falling The food is dwindling
Judged Before You Even Know
I hate being judged before I’m known; I hate the way I judge in turn. Taught never to quite be happy as I was, the idiot who doesn’t learn.
Benjamin Alexander HousePublished 3 years ago in PoetsMyst[o]ry
I have sat here with little more intention than to fill this invisible cup past the usual extent of its contents' brim. This writing here flows as it goes, with no edits made but for those of spelling, immediately following their creation (of was previously written as os as I was explaining my intention at the entrance created by the extinction of the previous sentence as it preemptively began into its own planned fruition. As you may see is already evident, if I begin to write one word--say, "beggar"--but I type an "l" instead, I must instead use an alternative word, such as "loiterer", for instance. Although that word isn't an exact substitute for the former, I will simply have to surrender to the placidity of context to support the success of my own aims. So, as you can see, if I paint myself into a corner, I have no choice but to make up for tied-hands by using my own confidence in my creativity to carry on. Also, as you may have caught on so far, the word "placidity" chosen above was a product of my own assumption of correctness as permitted by the trusted clarity of my own brain. Although that may not be the correct word, I had decided to use it, so damnation will do as damnation ostensibly does. Rewriting "placidity", I began it as "pal, but as I was rewriting a previous set word, I allowed a backspace and continuance. Also, I had typed "ostensibly" as "obstensibly"--without the hyphens, of course (just keeping you on your TOES!!!)--but as it wsa (WAS!) a spelling error, I simply fixed it and move (MOVED) on.
Surprise
I took a walk on a moonlit trail, and I was shocked to come across a little girl. She was cold and bleak and did not initially speak but she looked as though she was waiting. She was young and frail, and I could not leave her alone on this ghostly moonlit trail. So I looked into her deep dark eyes and asked “what are you waiting for" she whispered “surprise”. So even though I thought her eerie, I sat beside her for the night alone I had grown too weary.
Morgan RichardsonPublished 3 years ago in PoetsMr Stork
I wrote this poem six years ago. It’s in response to the way male medical professionals have treated women both here and abroad for centuries. I confront the icon of the stork, which has characterized birth in so many ways. It’s a cheap substitute that covers up the realities that surround birth. He represents the voice of critics that have shamed women for their bodies and birth experiences. I am involved in development work and have seen the brazen and cruel way in which women are treated around the world, especially if they are poor. My own birth experiences reflected the same treatment. This is for the ones whose journey to motherhood was not instagram perfect.
Deborah NavaPublished 3 years ago in PoetsThe Pain, The Fear, The Anger, And Scars
One of the worst days of my life. One of the worst years too. I'm like an object that won't stick to glue. Falling apart.
Just Stop!!
Ummm..... I am not a liar! I am into dat smoke I am so far deep that I choke when Im sleep Not realizing that I may never wake up fully
Sayra KiddPublished 3 years ago in PoetsYou take my breath away
You take my breath away You the perfect escape for me I love your energy The feeling of when your next to me I've been up since 6AM on the road
A little bit of black
she’s wearing all black, a corset With purple threading, Blood red lips and a bit of brown eyeliner to accentuate her green eyes—-
Melissa IngoldsbyPublished 3 years ago in Poets