Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Poets.
New Day Dawning by Kathy Lou
New Day Dawning written by Kathy Lou 08/31/21 I started my journey on the dark side of the moon Feeling down, touching ground.
Kathy Lou WaskettPublished 3 years ago in PoetsHome
We don’t need the world, we just need to feel secure in the ones we care most about. Rather yours feels better than the lonely rock that gently tied itself around my finger tips.
Abby faithPublished 3 years ago in PoetsLavender Blue
Little girl dreams of lace and umbrellas Looking for happies in the best of the fellows Seashells and waves of greens, blues, and foam
Shirley BelkPublished 3 years ago in PoetsI'll Remember
I'll Remember ___________________________ Sadly, I will forever remember the first time your eyes met mine, as if the cupid that struck me had a sadistic sense of humor.
The Boy and His Voilin
There was a boy in central park that was playing the violin. His bow was beginning to break: the horsehair was slowly detaching.
One Moment
There’s a moment A moment when you look at them and you just know All your doubts, excuses, reasons it wouldn’t work, disappear
Adaline ArcherPublished 3 years ago in PoetsWhat is Too HOT!?
Hot spell, Will it ever end, I love summer, but why always so hazy, hot and humid. Humidity stinks when it is already 95 and above.
Mark GrahamPublished 3 years ago in Poetswhat a foolish man
What a foolish man? By Shellon Williams How could you be so naive or blinded by the fact that her heart is as big as a Mansion with many rooms .All you had to do was choose; but no you refused. All she asked of you was for you to listen . You had A place where you can call your home or your comforter. With a kitchen so big that you could've put together the world's best recipe of love .How dare you refuse the room your soul could have found rest ? How dare you go through that forbidden door ? You had a home that could have made you felt like a king on a throne. What a foolish man? Why did you chose to be homeless?
Shellon WilliamsPublished 3 years ago in PoetsGophers in the Backyard
Your wife is reminded of Caddyshack As you sit on your chair out back A paint gun across your lap, binoculars in your face
Deanna Repose OaksPublished 3 years ago in PoetsMy Voice Was My Sword
There once lived a young lady named Talia. I was tall like a medium-sized bookshelf, brunette as a coffee bean and my lips were red as strawberry-flavoured Jelly-Belly’s. My skin was light like peaches and cream, but was sometimes as tanned as sand dunes. I was puffy like a mammoth beach ball, but rough like a silver marble bench.
Talia DevoraPublished 3 years ago in PoetsThere Will Be Sweet Apples and Rotten Apples On Every Tree You Find
On every tree, I'll find and see sweet apples and rotten apples. Some are green like the bells-of-Ireland, red as carnelian rocks or yellow like baby chicks. Some are little like ring pops, medium like books or large as crystal balls. Sweet apples and rotten apples are not the same. They could hang on skinny branches, tumble from the trees, lay on the dewy grass or be scattered along the silver sidewalks. They are on every spot on this earth. I can eat the sweet apples and discard the rotten apples.
Talia DevoraPublished 3 years ago in Poetsokay okay
ready for a time out time to sign out time to get all the feelings and write out the time is right favourite time to write
k slam poetryPublished 3 years ago in Poets