Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Poets.
Idol Hands
practice what you preach. your actions are the anchor tied to your ankle. there are no false idols in this old world. there are no empty promises in this old world. the gods have abandoned us and the planets are misaligned and the strings of fate are terribly tangled. this is what you think the end looks like. this is what you think the end feels like. we do not teach without first doing and we do not warn without first knowing. lord forgive me for i have sinned and sinned and am going to keep sinning. bring your blemished, broken, blackening, beautiful hands together in prayer and gold yarn will bind your destiny. wash your feet in holy water, try to soak the devil out of your blisters. call out to your gods, spill your blood in sacrifice, ask,
By Jasmine May8 years ago in Poets
The Wall
I had so many dreams, but also so many fears. To tame those fears, those anxieties I had a man help me become the person I always wanted to be. He was my coach, the controller of my faith. His name is unimportant, but I liked to call him The Wall. When I was young, all I wanted to do was kiss the sky. I developed a love for airplanes, all I wanted to do was test my limits and be a fighter pilot in the air force. But then, The Wall told me, with his potent persuasion filling my head with worries and doubts. “What if it doesn’t work out? Pilots don’t make a lot of money, how will you support your future family?” What if you are not good enough, not smart enough? So I molded up a new Idea, I will become a footballer, all I ever wanted to do was hold the Champions cup in my palms. And hear the crowd scream when I score the final goal. I motivated myself into caressing the ball every day until the ball became an extension of myself. I became obsessed, all I wanted to do was play until the sun became gray. Even in the darkest hours, passion can light the alleyways with hope and hunger. But, once again, The Wall found me. He told me, “It is hard to be a footballer, not worth all the training. You will have 10 years tops to play, not nearly enough money to live.” “You don’t want to miss college parties It is too much fun! All the drugs, and all the teenage nostalgia. You will be homeless and living on the streets without a college degree.” So I crafted up a new Idea, I will be a business executive. I don’t want to become one of those over-wealthy sophisticated money-grabbers, but I have the rest of high school and college to have fun until I have to become one of them. So I decided to go with that plan, and The Wall agreed.
By Nick Short8 years ago in Poets
