Ode

Number Twenties... Who Remembered
A little brother with... was constant annoyance for sports— with basketball and with baseball stick. But it's time to pick my jersey number, a voice in my head said: Sick! Pressure's on, nothing clicks, and plays with brother dreamed. There... What number to be a shooting guard, a defensive player? And to care — all mixed. How to score heavy? What will make the opponent quit. Thank you for reading! Which part of the poem resonates with you? Share your thoughts. Please leave a comment. Copyright 2025 K.A. Smith
By K.A. Smithabout a year ago in Poets
First Prompt
Hey friends! Welcome to my first prompt. I’m lucky that I am a photographer and can pull images from my phone camera reel that can pass as something charming to accompany my little poems.
By Aspen Marie about a year ago in Poets
Age of Hermes
When you clasp hands with another and say, "Thank you, talk soon," I am there. I am the god of making it happen. Letters, data cables, and messaging.
By Ian Lundabout a year ago in Poets
Ode to the Organ I Didn’t Know I Needed
I used to live wild, Drenched fries in oil, Ate cheese like oxygen, Let butter boil. Never thought twice About pizza or cream,
By The Arleeabout a year ago in Poets
The Ones Who Rise. Content Warning.
Little girls don’t stay little forever. Beautifully innocent, dependent on a world that rarely loves them correctly. They wander—
By Stacey Mataxis Whitlow (SMW)about a year ago in Poets
A Shepard We Trust
From A through to M, then from N through to Z She guides us to exactly where we should be. Marvel as characters are given flesh and worlds,
By Paul Stewartabout a year ago in Poets
Book
Just because my cover is weathered and torn And my pages are a little worn Don’t look at me and scorn For I’ve been a thousand places
By Atomic Historianabout a year ago in Poets
Whispers of fire
Poppys prompt 13 They say she was kissed by a god but it felt more like being swallowed— soft at first, then nothing but heat in the throat
By Taylor Wardabout a year ago in Poets
The Battle of Shakespeare: "To Thine Own Self Be True"
Thoughts about character— Thoughts about character. An idiolectic mind struggles with the reader, is the thine. A battle cheer. A sinful act, willfully fine.
By K.A. Smithabout a year ago in Poets
Between the fence posts
It wasn’t a decision, not really just the way the light spilled through the live oaks like it meant something. I was halfway to the barn,
By Taylor Wardabout a year ago in Poets
Awaiting the Tune
My perfect devotion is a secret song Written for your heart And your heart alone I will only know the words When our lips part and touch
By K.B. Silver about a year ago in Poets
Summer Winds
O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn’s being,Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves deadAre driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing,Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red,Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou,Who chariotest to their dark wintry bedThe wingèd seeds, where they lie cold and low,Each like a corpse within its grave, untilThine azure sister of the Spring shall blowHer clarion o’er the dreaming earth, and fill(Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air)With living hues and odours plain and hill...
By Am@n Khan about a year ago in Poets