Most recently published stories in Poets.
When joy comes in your life Let it rest in your hand Like a dainty butterfly But hold it not As one day it will pass When sorrow comes a-visiting
By Creative Hub9 years ago in Poets
Twisted up, And running blind— Wasted ashes left behind, Crumbled words Lay at my door— Silent footsteps, Nevermore...
By Ron Walker9 years ago in Poets
One single tear down my cheek, I feel a presence begin to leak. My eyes are open wide, and gaze upon my own blood and flesh.
By Cat Jennings9 years ago in Poets
I stepped into the world today, it surrounded me. Like the first moments of departed womb, the cold sting piercing, heart center piece,
By Michael Gallegos9 years ago in Poets
Proud little moments in between fits of defeat up beat, down beat, mid beat so fleeting triumph on top of tragic failings
By S. L. McGee9 years ago in Poets
Alone. Broken. Lost. I'm physically present, I can feel the air against my cheeks, see the frosty mountain peaks, but my heart is hollow and dark as a cave.
There was a time when warm summer day’s lingered for ever and transitioned into pale blue moonlight before a soul could notes. A time when Love was cherished over all else. A time when the sky was a richer, deeper and more true blue, blue enough to induce melancholy sadness. It was when happiness was effortless the way it was meant. Today the winter wind blows cold and angry. Today is lonely. Today the most worthless and needless things are treasured. I cringe at the sight of beauty used for profit. Every salty tear that falls with soft and delicate sound weigh heavy on the mind. Every moment another someone’s heart is breaking. Tiny pieces scattered over the endless landscape of life. Good bye is agony. The dog days of life are gone.
By Thomas E9 years ago in Poets
Taken in the direction of down. Have I any choice if my heart is bound? So we’re on our way to hell. You didn’t think I’d take it so well.
By Paul Crocker9 years ago in Poets
I feel your hand on my forehead, So warm and soft. I feel you stroking my hair, So gently and nice. I feel your heart beating,
By Karri Duperron9 years ago in Poets
The artist's hand works with his eyes Creating his vision with paints Some prefer to render raw nature While others bring to life ancient Saints
By Dan Mcgonagle aka CELTICPOET9 years ago in Poets
Everyone takes his own route, But we all arrive at the same destination: The cold granite headboard awaits us all. You might choose the expressway in the city,
By Fred Bobbitt9 years ago in Poets
What do you see When you look in my eyes Is it the pain of resentment Contentment of situations That desire change Strange connections
By Janae Williams9 years ago in Poets
