Most recently published stories in Poets.
Drowning in ink. Writing,writing, writing. Drawing, drawing, drawing. Is every last drop a waste? How much is used day by day?
By KC Grim 9518 years ago in Poets
sinking under the weight of being trapped. nowhere to go nothing to aspire to. the pressure on my chest progressively pushing deeper
By D. E. Desmort8 years ago in Poets
OPPRESSION . RECESSION. DEPRESSION. BLACK SKIN MAKES YOU LESS THAN LESS THAN. REPARATIONS. A GROTESQUE SITUATION. WHO BUILT THIS COUNTRY ON THEIR BACKS
By Brenée Carey8 years ago in Poets
She woke up. She looked around. She woke up and she observed. Her surroundings were as she left them. Her posters, still on her wall,
By Jana Nadeau8 years ago in Poets
This realization is seen as unwise and untimely with election season upon us. But don't we deserve someone at least a little poised and righteous?
By Briana Aeschliman8 years ago in Poets
I've lost a faith A faith that I never had But I prayed Waiting for you To save someone I held dear to me But it was a waste
By Alexandrea Noble8 years ago in Poets
You, are a steeple, and I, the mortar which holds you at the seams. The very artifact that keeps you projected so highly, the stuff of dreams.
By Charles Oregano8 years ago in Poets
I have foreseen a future... A future without money, without want or need. A future where hope is a word rarely spoken except to honor the path in which we've arrived.
By Joshua Vietri8 years ago in Poets
I plagiarized a giraffe. It was long overdue. Son, there are things you don't understand. Son, there are things you've yet done.
By R.M. Kamm8 years ago in Poets
Morning milky meadows bow and dance extended in ecstasy drugged from earth's mixed flesh beside tumbling circus streams
By terry simmons8 years ago in Poets
I've hated all my jobs. But they're something to fill my time so I can fill their pockets and fill myself with cheap food and nights in. I'm here with my scraps trying to piece together my sanity so I can find something resembling happiness. Taping together the things I've collected so I can trick myself into thinking I still have purpose. What is my purpose now? Now that I've hit this wall and the notes aren't flowing and I feel like the truest and deepest love I've ever felt is being stripped from me and replaced over and over with fake smiles and empty "how are you today"s, only to be met by grumps and growls from mouths who followed the paved path and still seem to be as unhappy as I am as I stand behind the counter on my pile of rubble that I've been trying to clear away so I can stand alongside them...on a clear road leading to the same place all roads end.
By Hannah8 years ago in Poets
You see him as someone who cares, You see someone who would try to help who they could, You see someone that will have your back, never judge or put you down,
By Carolee L8 years ago in Poets
