excerpts
Poets Media isolates the most poignant, powerful, and exquisitely composed verses and quotes in the universal poetry canon.
Furniture
Furniture When I imagine our future together I think about going furniture shopping. Which couch says us? which couch says we’re fighting go sleep on the couch? Pillows, what pillows tell a story, our story. The story in which we met at the gym, you wanted me first, I said I love you first and we lived this happily ever after. I think about decorating the furniture differently, occasionally decorating based on your mood or vibe for the month. I picture December and for some reason we live somewhere cold, experiencing all the seasons, my favorite being fall. Your favorite being fall. You see our relationship is the seasons, but most importantly fall. In fall the color of the leaves change and they fall. Autumn leaves they say. We change, we fall, and we become whole again, every day. Every day we become whole in each other’s arms. Yet I still just think about you deciding on what furniture tells the story of us.
By Jason Cambra4 years ago in Poets
The Trojan Mind
Things don’t slow down. As much as I push and pull, trying to fight this inevitable force that keeps the wheels spinning, I am weak. To try to stop the Trojan horse parading around the city keeping my memories, the thoughts lurk within keeping quiet until the right moment to strike. The city never sees it coming. The Greeks pour in, destroying everything they set their eyes on. I am powerless. I can’t control the Greeks, I can’t control the spiral it sends the city into. My idle body stands aside and watches the chaos ensue. Strong as ever, the city slowly burns down. Little by little, everyday a new flame torched to the thick wood buildings. As if I could bring the wrath of the gods with clouds filled with rain ready to release. To smother any ember waiting to be picked up. As if I only could. I would let the streets run with storm water pushing the ashes to the harbor only to be met with an infinite sea. How I wish I could.
By Abby Malinowski4 years ago in Poets
The Human and The Broken Mirror
There's a human in a white space. A big blank white space, with nothing in it, but the human and an enormous broken mirror. The mirror, whether perfect or broken, takes up the entirety of the floor - it's that big. All of the human's time is spent putting the mirror back together. There are nearly infinite pieces, and the human, a friend, won't stop until all of the pieces are together, as they were before the mirror shattered. After some unmeasured time has passed, the friend steps back to look at it, not finding it to be how it was before. The friend starts again. The friend pulls pieces out of their hands, knees and feet throughout the reassembling of the mirror. Every piece must return to where it was before the mirror broke. The friend has neglected everything except what matters - putting the mirror back together. The mirror is put together. The friend stares. They find it wrong. The friend starts again. Piece after piece more time passes. Move pieces around. Step back and look. It's wrong. Try again. Nothing else matters. Wrong. Again. No. That's wrong... Try again... Wrong... Again. No... Start over... Wrong... Start again... No... Wrong... Again...
By Seth Brickler4 years ago in Poets
