Most recently published stories in Poets.
I am different than most people I know, I love the fall while others love summer, Rainy days over sunny days, Night over day,
By Karri Duperron9 years ago in Poets
(I) Writing Through Senses A poet is a being of many curiosities. He is a person who is filled with wondrous philosophies.
By Paul Crocker9 years ago in Poets
Yellow flowers on a train track, Somewhere in Germany - Graffiti on the side-streets. Dawn light seeps through the windows
By Dakota King9 years ago in Poets
On the way to work, I saw an interesting sight. Although it was clearly day, this image represented the night. Like the darkened voids I've come to know so well.
Bring me to the beach where my soul lives to peak, Each grain of sand that gets me closer to everything I seek. Bring me to the beach when I need to be uplifted,
By Reese Jones9 years ago in Poets
Did you not see? What you did to me? You broke my heart And set it free Now I'm nothing but your memory Do you think about me at night
By Felicia Morrow9 years ago in Poets
Hello, Vocal community! Here is my performance at the Nuyorican Poet's Café on May 19th, following the Friday Night Poetry Slam (during which they always host an open mic).
By Whitney Graham9 years ago in Poets
I've noticed one thing when reading past work. There's an animal that drove the poets beserk. It's a reoccuring thing. And it had the burdens of the world on its wings.
Time goes flying by, first day to graduate, with no time to think. Where did all that time go? I miss it so much. The freedom it gave me,
By Phoenixica249 years ago in Poets
They are the admirals of the skies. See how triumphantly it flies. While patrolling coasts. They proudly boast a presence which you can't deny.
Ordinary: it's just a word Add a little extra to that, and you've got something special. Sometimes that "extra" can be something simple:
By KaSandra Odle9 years ago in Poets
1.) They say to me, whenever I get an attitude, that I'm being racist because I'm white and they're black. 2.)And I have to pause because this rubberneck is about to be one of those crunchy slimes you see on YouTube.
By Bridget Meier9 years ago in Poets
