Latest Stories

Most recently published stories in Poets.

Blessed is the man that trusteth in the LORD, and whose hope the LORD is.
…the chime of little bells tinkling twinkling blinkling ding-dingyling luxurious carpet prostrated in simplicity of modesty…
By Dianaabout 17 hours ago in Poets
Listen to Your Body
What you studied, how much you earn, where you work, does not matter to your body. What matters is, whether you lived a life
By Seema Patelabout 17 hours ago in Poets
Writing
Thinking and typing On my phone, hitting letters Making a sentence
By L.I.Eabout 17 hours ago in Poets
Spring's Faithful Return
Tell me, does the robin understand what she is singing about at dawn, that whole gorgeous insistence of song rising before the sun has fully committed
By Tim Carmichaelabout 18 hours ago in Poets
The Nuclear Now
Atoms colliding, Accelerator pounding, Scientists produce.
By Daniel J. Heckabout 18 hours ago in Poets
The Message That Arrived 10 Years Too Late”
It was a quiet Sunday evening when my phone buzzed. I was sitting alone in my small apartment, scrolling through old photos and trying to ignore the rain tapping against the window. Nothing unusual. Just another slow night.
By Imran Ali Shahabout 19 hours ago in Poets
Self-Love
Inherently we seek love, but it does not come easy, it's unpredictable, has consequences, and it is not always sustainable.
By Seema Patelabout 19 hours ago in Poets
Little Mermaid
a little mermaid on my quiet walking path mindfulness gives gifts Note: I practice mindfulness on my walks, and it gives me gifts. So, I was pleasantly surprised to finds a little mermaid for our treasure box.
By Seema Patelabout 19 hours ago in Poets
A Toddler Hug
Sticky from melon, Covered in chocolate crumbs, He nuzzles Daddy
By Deanna Cassidyabout 20 hours ago in Poets
The Urban Prince
My Life Is Amiable, I Feel The Love, I See The Beauty In The Air... Hardships Of Surviving Began To Erasure.
By HandsomelouiiThePoet (Lonzo ward)about 20 hours ago in Poets
Floating To Heaven
I float, but don't fly Can’t get that high Slowly I rise Carried by the wind Created by breath Reflecting the creator
By L.I.Eabout 20 hours ago in Poets
Nights Measured in Empty Bottles
My liver is a bombed-out cathedral, stained glass shattered into bilirubin yellow, altars slick with the sacrament of cheap vodka
By Diane Fosterabout 20 hours ago in Poets