Top Stories
Stories in Poets that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
Elegy for My Grandmother
And love is bread baskets left in the sun. The bread turned hard. As stone. And men who walk past windows. The same men whom I see at night. Back when wall reliefs sprouted on flat chests. All the girls would stare out windows sit on porches with short skirts and legs spread. Wide. Licking fuzzy navel shaved ice off fingers. That later motioned at men to come near. On the porch you were safe from gazes filled high like towers. There was nowhere to prepare for men. But then again, there are no back porches in Georgia. What of men? She says. Of men who march of men who live in sheets. What of rooms where babies are made, are they holy? Do they shine like rain in silver pails rain that makes your hair grow? Standing next to the genip tree I see a dress that picks at the wind. It is yellow and muddled with dishwasher spots.
Samantha WilliamsPublished 5 years ago in Poets
Blossom
“Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
Denisse LizethPublished 5 years ago in Poets
Fields of Heather
We walk through the trees, across the winding bend, Our laughter bites the wind, the coldness it does fend. Casting pebbles to a lake, as light drifts beyond the shore,
Holly BushnellPublished 5 years ago in Poets
He
He walks down the hallway, Hears "she" and "her," And it burns a hole into his soul, Already wounded by pain and hate for who he is,
Eric RagsdalePublished 5 years ago in Poets
A Weapon
I possess a weapon. That's right. You read that correctly. I have a weapon. It's perfectly legal, Yet it's more powerful
Matthew MartinPublished 5 years ago in Poets
D Day
Decorated distractions Doused with decadence and despair Dreams of the disconnected Dissipating into thin air Directing the diverse
Mike WaywardPublished 5 years ago in Poets
Night Rise
They say that night falls. They are mistaken. It rises from the land slowly like litmus in water. Unfurling inky tendrils of blue, reaching out and up to color the world in shades of mystery.
Lynn StadelPublished 5 years ago in Poets
Thinking About You
I thought about you today, but that was nothing new. I thought about you yesterday, and the day before that too. I thought about the way we kissed,
Ruth CrossPublished 5 years ago in Poets
Bitter Beans and Water
Two scoops, an early rise, Roasted beans and water. Twelve cups, two mugs Bitter beans and water. Tinkling bells, jostling coats
Kathryn BrownPublished 5 years ago in Poets
Gone Away
Gone, whispers the peeling wallpaper. The walls have rotted away by the pursuit Of rainwater and the undeniable dispute Between termites and water vapor.
Emily SchwartzPublished 5 years ago in Poets
Immerse
For anyone who wasn’t already aware, I am worth immersing in. And for those who don’t recognize, Who try to drown me In their detached, weary, disheartening,
Ajone AlinaPublished 5 years ago in Poets
Scentrifugal
Green told me he hates you July is the righthand corner I see Wednesday on the side One is not that lonely, but he won’t admit it
Simone AllenhallPublished 5 years ago in Poets
