Stories in Poets that you’ll love, handpicked by our team.
The news of today is absurd, When fact and opinions are blurred, You know it’s the worst, When profit is first, And truth comes in second or third.
By the Phuzz3 years ago in Poets
You call it mucus, discharge, secretion All vague homonyms lacking concretion Vaginas make goo It’s useful goo, too And deserves a word as certain as semen!
By Morgana3 years ago in Poets
Note: I wrote this as a comment on the limerick below, and I was told that maybe I should post this on my page. I would recommend reading the link first and then looking at my five brief lines of thought:
By Kendall Defoe 3 years ago in Poets
I kept jars of air you breathed, hoping they'd last me the rest of my life.
By My Name Is Not Cypress3 years ago in Poets
misty, monochromatic mornings, make me malinger my movements mimicking molasses my mouth, metallic malaise… mushrooms. .
I grieve for a world that won't listen, that cares less for fact than for fiction, for a faith that abuses the grace it refuses
By Randy Wayne Jellison-Knock3 years ago in Poets
I see you. All shiny and metallic. Glistening in the sunlight seeping through the window. Cool, relaxing in your own state,
By Cathy holmes3 years ago in Poets
Dear, You... You 🫵 Are Remarkable. If I'm the first to Speak one's mind... Then I must be Blessed! You are the Exception
By HandsomelouiiThePoet (Lonzo ward)3 years ago in Poets
I heard the wind's swish a song through hard times it had no words just the buzz and swell of the unsteady at times like this, I’m scared to go out
By Moon Desert3 years ago in Poets
Mother, Why is it so hard to see the end of the story and turn the page Knowing it’s done? You’re everything And I knew it all along in my heart.
By Melissa Ingoldsby3 years ago in Poets
Sunshine summer spent cool pool, barefoot, tan with joy I'd jump in again. Along the rough edge, hold the wall to travel safe
By Darby S. Fisher3 years ago in Poets
There is a spot for you and I on a gentle slope Before we reach the valley Where we can stop, hand in hand Beneath the boughs of spring
By Loryne Andawey3 years ago in Poets
