Top Stories
Stories in Poets that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
wildflowers
i hope the change was seamless from your last breath to the next. while your eyes opened to new wonders, i was left here
Heather HublerPublished 6 months ago in PoetsLive like a Labrador
1. Believe each moment is fresh, new, exciting! People you meet, are friendly and inviting. 2. Savour myriads of wafting scents…
Angie the Archivist 📚🪶Published 7 months ago in PoetsIdentity
Who am I? thoughts swirling forever in my mind never finding answers in this grind for who I am and who I’m meant to be
Mohammed DarasiPublished 7 months ago in PoetsRecharting
1. Gather the pictures like blackberries in a basket. Take a match to the corners. See yourself in the flames. 2. Wash the toxin from your skin. Replace with moisturiser and sunlight.
f r e e f a l l
S t o r i e s buried, decaying in cranial folds—festering rotted memories chiseling away at cavernous voids. Coils of pain
Kristen BalyeatPublished 6 months ago in PoetsBath Time
Last night I took a Bath with a Sunflower 🌻 💦 Preparing to Sprout Tomorrow… I Clinched at the Strengths of the Embryo…
HandsomelouiiThePoet (Lonzo ward)Published 6 months ago in PoetsGolden Hour
As the fading darkness of the night succumbs To the light of a new day, a moment comes When the kiss of morning sun imparts a glow
Dana CrandellPublished 6 months ago in PoetsCaffeinated Kiss
When morning yawns and rubs midnight’s eyes, when daylight smiles through brightening skies, I rise with the promise of a caffeinated kiss,
Cathy holmesPublished 6 months ago in Poets- Runner-Up in the Snafu Senryu Challenge
My Bedroom
I want to sleep, but there are strangers in my bed; I live on my friend’s couch. . . . . . (drawing by my friend, Tong, of his couch)
Sone KramerPublished 7 months ago in Poets The Tea & 10 Things You Don't Know About Me...💜💜💜💜
Unashamed by Tiffany Gordon I am unashamed to say: I love the Creator I love the Creator I love the Creator I love the Creator
Tiffany GordonPublished 6 months ago in PoetsFrom Inside
my mind is a deep dark well my past lives fuel my thought my fingers are but a rusty spigot and that’s where the words get caught
The White Crow
Once there was a kingdom long ago Where there was living a pure-white crow His voice was like honey He sang to make money
Deasun T. SmythPublished 6 months ago in Poets