Most recently published stories in Poets.
We must tend our gardens well as we stand at the gates of hell. The weeds take hold quickly. Their roots digging deeper and deeper.
By A.C. Zempleni8 years ago in Poets
Smoldering dawn, arise from the sickened bedpost I lay wet in your unfolding demeanor Guide yourself over the pastures of something new and abused
By Broke Poet8 years ago in Poets
I watched Salvation Army clean out my neighbors home. They load up furniture from the 70's, old records, and a collection of tacky lamps.
By Amanda Zylstra8 years ago in Poets
[Verse 1]Things are bound to change, Before day breaksNinety miles South, Of Chain O' LakesAfraid she took a drink, and he went and did the sameClearly couldn't think straight, To the river bed they sank
By Josh Wilson8 years ago in Poets
The world is my oyster and you know I'll fuck it till she's dry, I've got the world at my fingertips and I'm gonna choke her till she dies,
By Cotten Runt8 years ago in Poets
It's been a long rough road to get where I'm at today I've come a long way to attain calmness and stillness to my own dismay
By Bryan RJ Delorme8 years ago in Poets
What lies at the end of the rainbow? The end of a lifetime? Is there a light at the end of the tunnel? Do we finally get that pot of gold we have had our eye on?
[Verse 1] Couple hours in, and you bet I was soldIt's not your story, It's the way it was told Couple more beers then shortly leavin' the barOn top the car, On our backs, and countin' the stars
The life that I live is the life of a fly, Glued to the wall I'm higher than high, I shed a single tear from my 96th eye,
A deep afflictionA twist of fate How can one person contain so much hate? Fueled by fury torture within. What can it be but delicious sin.
By Sheree Jolley8 years ago in Poets
Dear Mr. Trump '' How ya doing old chump '' How was your year? Or does it go in and out one ear? Hows the dictating? Or is it deflating?
By Mags Murphy Lynch8 years ago in Poets
Sometimes I feel like I could sleep forever and never wake up. I could bury myself in the ground and stay for eternity. I’d spread pretty flowers over my grave where they’d always grow.
By Cheyanne Young8 years ago in Poets
