Top Stories
Stories in Poets that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
For Fanny Obadia
Fruits abound in her garden and on her body Opposite an ocean and memories aroused Rested for four decades, they again embody
Patrick M. OhanaPublished a day ago in PoetsSomething
There's always something. Even when there's nothing. Especially when there's nothing. But it gets drowned out by all the noise
Dominic Casey-LeePublished 5 days ago in PoetsStealing the Spotlight
Every chance I get to shine bright, I can Count on you to ruin my best moment Lurking like a shadowy villain, you Invade my space and darken my limelight
Heather HagyPublished a day ago in PoetsSenseless
Every surface of your room, Covered in darkness Like a black satin sheet. Intimacy and anonymity Paradoxically take over my
Kiersten WeldonPublished 3 days ago in PoetsKeeping Company
I keep people company on train rides and bus rides or while they drive their cars to promotions or breakups to pick up some coffee
Sandra MatosPublished a day ago in PoetsNight Time
In the spirit hour, Everything gets quiet, Or so it seems — Songbirds take refuge in the canopies of trees. A cat is howling, and there are faint barks in the distance,
Ute Luppertz ✨Published 3 days ago in PoetsSappho’s Daughter
Even the tulips yield to the sun— Collateral beauty admidst the sin of man Lust, among the seven deadly, I may Infused genetically, the capacity to love is irrevocable
Summer RobinsonPublished 3 days ago in PoetsMen like us
Men like us trudge in mud under Russian fire while callow others load the missiles. [-] Men like us, those poor we hate
Housekeeping
Reading glasses swinging back and forth, dangling from a drug store string slung around my neck I said, to myself of course, I never want to wear this kind of thing. But now I do, sometimes. I like the idea of relaxing, being a comfortable woman of the home, swinging open the door in a batik housedress, casually welcoming someone in, pets or as the French say, animals for company, something like that. As if pets had no other reason to be. Years of watching women folding, unfolding, refolding socks, sheets, dinner napkins, a lot happens in those moments of freshly laundered piles heaped onto the sofa, better the dining room table as long as it’s clean of course. My grandparents hung it all out in the sun, flopping away without a care, ironing sheets was necessary. When my paternal grandmother died, the very night she passed over the clothesline, into the black heavens sprinkled with sequins of silver, she came to me in a dream. I stood at a table folding clothes, I became aware that there was someone next to me folding as well. I first recognized her hands, red and wrinklie, with age spots. “Nanny?” I didn’t look toward her; she said in her most comforting southern way, “Don’t be afraid.” Then I turned toward the left looking up, up, up, and there she was all in white, a long crisp gown, fresh and smiling. “I love you.” She’d spoke. Then she was gone.
Liqueur of the Heart
Consider the word consider. From the Latin "considaire", meaning "to observe the stars", the word can be broken up into con (with) and sidus (heavenly body) - but there's no need to break anything up to understand.
Marie WilsonPublished 4 days ago in PoetsRainy Skipping
Skipping around town, the coolness of the downpour, with no umbrella.
James GreenPublished 4 days ago in PoetsTraveler's Choice
One pale petal clings To my backpack. Pluck it, or Let it be our guest? ~~~~~ Appreciation to Hannah Moore for her generous invitation to step into her writing space and join the dance of the Renga. See her breath-catching first stanza, Yūgen.
Sonia Heidi UnruhPublished 6 days ago in Poets