Most recently published stories in Poets.
Things as we think of things Are a means to perceive a deeper clarity Of things as they are truly From the means to the ends
By Conjury9 years ago in Poets
You're gone but not forgotten A soul that was claimed too soon You had such a life ahead of you Your story wasn't even a quarter through
By Jackie Coats9 years ago in Poets
Three days later... One thousand feet, might as well be miles, above the tides below, I stand on the dry, clumped dust
By A. F. Litt9 years ago in Poets
Sometimes Henry lies there awake at night, thinking about her. Henry thinks about his close female friends often. The beautiful and sexy Lucy is his closest.
By Kourtney Risher9 years ago in Poets
The minutes stole away from me, I pressed to slow it down I wanna thank my lucky stars but don't recognize this town I tore away at the midnight sky just to see a new sunrise
By Daniel Cole9 years ago in Poets
Her blouse is livid with loose ends of string intertwined like feasting garden-worms. That pompous scuffed tortoise-shell button
By Jamie Wilkinson9 years ago in Poets
Almost unnoticed. And the dressing, eating all are finely wrapped and placed aside, the chore complete, though less a chore
By Edward Myers9 years ago in Poets
In the edges of darkness, a fire blazes. A masking color of orange consuming the skies. Black clouds blot out the moon and stars. It spreads farther and farther, collapsing wood and bushes, consuming all life. Time only causes more destruction.
By Starlight Wolfe9 years ago in Poets
The Peak I. You grabbed my hand and told me never to let go. You said, “I love you” as the wind whispered and the Spirit of the Mountain spoke.
Some day’s I let my heart win, Let those older colors drip their way in, The wound is precise, in the way it reopens, The same familiar burns reappear like old friends,
By AJ Wright9 years ago in Poets
My mind's so sick Of the thoughts it locks away. The beating of my heart, It sickens me As it reminds me that I'm alive.
By Ilana Weiss9 years ago in Poets
I Feel the Sun beating down on me. The warm sand beneath my feet Creeping between my toes. I hear the waves slapping at the shore.
By A.C. Zempleni9 years ago in Poets
