Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Poets.
On Writing
If all of the madness of the world could be condensed down into one little poem... I'd do it. If all of the sadness in my heart
Michael GiglioPublished 7 years ago in PoetsCaste
Where does the evening go at night, I close my eyes shut out the light- and dream of someplace far away, but not always return
Ron WalkerPublished 7 years ago in PoetsThe Monster They Created (Part 2)
It’s been six years in this cold place. The place for the criminally insane. The strange man said I will stop liking death.
Christopher WolvertonPublished 7 years ago in PoetsBlacken Me Out From The Light
I see life through newborn eyes. I can sense if something lives or dies. It feels like such a burden. I don't want this overwhelming sensation to worsen.
Paul CrockerPublished 7 years ago in PoetsShifter
kick it into high then shift it into overdrive, lines are flashing in the spiral- burning to survive---.. ground control,
Ron WalkerPublished 7 years ago in PoetsThe Bliss of Ignorance
So it is as it has always been, the illustrious struggle between now and then, between the here and now, and if and when,
Michael GiglioPublished 7 years ago in PoetsA Walk in the Park
Insane, membrane, brain barrier, Fall over and feel, The grass pressing softly, sharply, Until you can walk, not reel.
Colin HopePublished 7 years ago in PoetsThe State of Today
No one knows why they're spraying trails in the sky... it's not natural. Some say they're now invisible, but that they're still spraying.
Michael GiglioPublished 7 years ago in PoetsBranded
Spare the rod, and spoil the run- look into my eyes, and fall- entranced from staring at the sun, we burned the writing
Ron WalkerPublished 7 years ago in PoetsPorcelain Smile
It’s 2AM and all I think about is your arms around me Your breath fanning against the back of my neck, and Your soft snores echoing in my small room. It’s only been
Starving Masses
Drumsticks the parallels to future rhythm feelings tin garbage cans mirages for metaphors like the "gutter brain" sit and wait tired so hate it lick a fentanyl patch and get elated
pasha alekseyevPublished 7 years ago in PoetsRecovery
I exist beyond my body, my worth cannot be measured in pounds the pressures felt live solely through my thoughts - these are