Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Poets.

The First Year
The tragic air of someone you love, Expels the fiery and watery deaths, And instead attracts a much simpler end. Missing the first light
By Callum Foulds8 years ago in Poets
Cheers
i have always been aware of the weight of words. the way letters smash and contort and inflict emotion, it’s a beautiful, scary thing. i intertwined my fingers in yours and pleaded through my palms. spoke words through my skin as opposed to my mouth, a rarity. see the difference between speaking with your tongue and speaking your flesh, is that contact will always soften the blow. there is something about your skin pressed against mine that makes the air a little lighter. the weather a little cooler. the rain a little prettier. and as i spoke to you with my dictionary grip, there was no blow to soften. your thumb traced circles on my forehead and spoke lilac words to my brain. i have always been aware of the weight of words. of the difference between love and being in love. there is no linguistic helm to guide you. no time allotted, you cannot fall in love on the back of a stopwatch. and it’s different for everyone. slowly but very surely i am falling in love with you. and it is is a divine sort of adrenaline, the kind you get whilst trapped in a hurricane made of butterflies. maybe the time will come when you will begin to fall in love with me, maybe you won’t. and that’s okay. because the way letters smash and contort and inflict emotion can be just as scary as falling in love. so i will continue to dance in rainy parking lots and jump in puddles. i will steal kisses wherever i can. i will help color yellow on your highest highs, and speak into your skin on the lowest lows. and for as long as you want, follow your stunning mind wherever, it goes.
By Gab Kay8 years ago in Poets
Angel
I use to be nice and sweet, But you broke my neck, You broke my beak, I was a caged Bird that won't sing, For you stole what was important to me,
By The broken Poet8 years ago in Poets
An Ode to That Person
You have to know that I do love you. We don't get along whatsoever. I don't know why or how. We've spent miles and miles traveling together down the path,
By Adam Camarena8 years ago in Poets
1:04
a love like yours stretches backward across mountains. a love like yours insists sunlight kiss your Cupid’s bow lips, commends stardust to whisper love letters into your ears. you see, a love like yours can harness every galaxy planet and milky way, and hold them captive in your eyes. and i can and will forever write you poetry about the stars and the sun, the way your laughter bubbles like cheap champagne at a motel. but all words have been said before. endless combinations are flowing electricity, and none of them are worthy enough for you. you see baby, a love like yours is something special. it’s colored balloons on a rainy day and swing sets on a sunny one. a love like yours is the kind they talk about in the films, the way you brush your fingers through your hair, it’s cinematic. baby. a love like yours is something special. and i promise to forever treat it as so.
By Gab Kay8 years ago in Poets
Tick
Tick tick The stars fills the sky Tick tick And I sit and wait Tick tick For my knight Tick tick To save me from this place
By Dayla Johnson8 years ago in Poets
Do You See?
Do they see me, or you, or only what they want? That is what I ask myself, as I lie awake looking at the popcorn on my ceiling wishing they were stars. Wishing I could just reach out and touch them to get a glimpse of a feeling of the utter beauty that is space. But that's not what it's about as my mind tries to lead me in a direction that is away from the painful thoughts about visibility. How it is that so many people are like those very stars, in that they are not seen when there is light? They want to be seen, like the lights of a building or in a room, that can be seen during the day and even the night. We are all like the stars though, or even the sun or the moon. For we are not always seen, we are not always given attention. Even then it hurts to know this truth, but as it is said, it is the truth.
By Calamity and Calm8 years ago in Poets
Betrayal
There was a seed. Knowing that some day, that seed would grow into a beautiful, bright pink flower. The stem sprouted from the seed and looked really healthy, while the stem was still healthy she had no feelings. She’d watched as other flowers drifted away and wondered why? Another plant was planted right next to the flower, it was the same as her but a different color...The flower was white. The two flowers had a great time spending time with each other, every day, until these random purple flowers were planted. The pink and white flower was in love. He was her first actual partner. But when the purple flower came, she started taking to the white flower. For the first time ever, the bright pink flower started to feel feelings for him. As it rained the water would drip slowly down her stem down to the soil. She saw that the white flower was slowly drifting away from her. Her colors started to fade and soon enough she lost a petal. But while the white flower was getting closer with the purple one, the purple flower found another flower that was the same as her and stopped talking to the white flower. He then looked at the bright pink flower and saw that she was fading and lost a petal. He felt bad.. He was so depressed that he lost three petals. But then he felt what the bright pink flower felt and eventually started turning brown.
By Sarai Valdez8 years ago in Poets
She Is
She She is beauty but what does that mean? Well she She is more than just a color A shape, and a feel, a sound and a place
By Calamity and Calm8 years ago in Poets
The Angry Birds
Have you ever woken up with a wonderful attitude and claimed that today will be a positive day? Then you get into the car and notice other people driving erratically because they are late
By Charlene Ellison8 years ago in Poets
Wildflower
I'm a wildflower growing among the weeds. They choke me with their snares, I'm left heaving for air. I see the field in the distance. The valley of extravagant colors, swaying in the wind. I hear their songs, the melody is light with laughter and freedom. The field of wildflowers, where I belong.
By Rhianna Quanstrom8 years ago in Poets
Rose
The rose I see is there for me and none smells sweeter than any I have seen. The rose is red and shows no dred , it joy does show when it opened I spoke no word. My body was still as was heard and all that saw now do say if you see a rose today make live with love so dear. The rose gave me hope and peace even when its thrones did poke me. Nothing more and nothing less but the rose doth live in my heart do never die and never part. To never die and never part from my heart.
By Virginia Worthington8 years ago in Poets