Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Poets.
Homecoming Poem
Quiet, The only time I could relax was the quiet night stuffed in my room. Suffocating in my thoughts the things in my head told me to run, to hide,
AshyKatSansPublished 3 years ago in PoetsMoonflower in the Sun
28 and my hair is turning gray. dream about a house and a garden with $100 dollars in my checking. make a list of plants that vine for the future. a moonflower only has time to bloom at night. sign off on a loan to pay a loan to pay a loan. you bring me a bouquet of flowers when i feel lonely. can’t leave the bed. car didn’t start this morning. flat tire a man honking asking if i knew. i cry after the scene in atlanta where donald glover says poor people don’t have time for investments. i wish i could be pretty without anyone noticing. i wish i could be ugly without anyone noticing. my hair all over the floor, between your toes i pull it from the drain. i can’t afford a haircut and am too afraid to lift the scissors myself.
Sara KhayatPublished 3 years ago in PoetsAbandoned
Abandoned From a boy to a man in a single day Now you say you don't want to stay You color your version
Rebecca DalmasoPublished 3 years ago in PoetsReturning Home: A Year Without Theatre
We leave a light on at the end of each show. After the patrons have finished their extra dry martini's and stumbled their way into their late night Uber.
Emma AndersonPublished 3 years ago in PoetsMy Lady is Broken
My Lady Is Broken I don't recall ever feeling this defeated Heart, mind and soul depleted Soaked by the tides of my desperation
Rebecca DalmasoPublished 3 years ago in PoetsRed Rose
It Couldn't Happen To Me My heart skips a beat you look my way I want to wake beside you every new day When I look into your eyes
Rebecca DalmasoPublished 3 years ago in PoetsHome
Home, a simple concept. A place to lay one's head and rest. How then, would you define an emotional place of comfort and peace?
Tiggerish Eeyore (Aaron Wood)Published 3 years ago in PoetsA Home With You
On my own I am a broken house Vandalized and repaired both inside and out By the various people who pass through me Windows are shattered
Communication is Dead!!!
"Communication is dead!!!" Screamed the human beings "What kind of communication are you talking about?" Eye contact? Hand gestures?
Lovely LuciaPublished 3 years ago in PoetsHome Is Where You Roam
Home is where the heart is, so I’ve heard. So much more then a four letter word. A knowing. A love that’s constantly growing.
Carey ChaneyPublished 3 years ago in PoetsThat Horrible Person
Whenever you think a person is terrible Think again. Are they? Or are you? Maybe just maybe They are there to show you
Gillian Lesley ScottPublished 3 years ago in PoetsFirst Home
A memory from long ago… I can hear talking of things we loved to do as children. Getting things ready for dinner, waiting for daddy to come home, watching Andy Griffith on TV, everyone gathers around. The house is cold, but we feel cozy. Sitting outside with the portable record player, watching the sun go down, singing to the music. Leaves are beginning to change. Gotta get ready for school tomorrow, not noticing that my shoes are worn and a little embarrassed that my socks do not match. The chatter changes a bit as we grow older, but there is so much comfort in knowing Mom & Dad are nearby. Mom in the kitchen and Dad on his chair and reading the paper. I am safe here. I am not a color. I am not afraid. Holidays happen here, one comes after the other as the Seasons change. We prepare for life to change and to celebrate along the way. I am safe here. I am Home.
Barbara GarciaPublished 3 years ago in Poets