Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
I was never an open letter.

I am that mail that the postman had lost while collecting other letters.

I am that letter that was never received.
Galdev Mar 27
Magnificent envelope is coming
A freshness of ink spread present lovely greeting
It sent just for you, Darling
Lovely words present in the evening
It's about mail to lover.
Kate Livesay Jan 20
I’ve saved our letters,
They’re in a box in my closet.

Nothing screams pain more than old words.
Words that meant the world in that moment,
But over time,
Entered into a downward spiral.

I loved how you curled your Y’s,
And oh-so confidently striked through your A’s.
That .38 pen fit you too well.

The floral stamps reminded me of a crowded garden,
One filled with bees, butterflies, and even grasshoppers.
You got those at the Art Museum, I just know it.

An asymmetrical heart sealed the letter,
Instantly ripped in half by my eagerness to read your words.
Did you kiss the heart where the envelope seals, just like I do?

Before flooding myself with your paragraphs,
I delicately brought the parchment to my nose.
Ambrosial, particles of your aroma trapped into the air of the envelope, spread on the parchment.

I am grateful for our endearments that are captured on paper.
No time for reliving, only reminicinsing.

Thank you. So so much.
You will never know how important it was to me.
snail mail is my favorite
-elixir- Dec 2020
The wind getting cold,
his words are getting old,
yet they keep me warm,
a step away from harm.
The letters I posted
stay lonely and ghosted,
in the icy wind frozen,
amidst the lies, brazen.
Your arrival bought me joy,
but just to hear you tell his ploy,
as you held out his resignation letter.
I turned into my own abettor.
mind's frozen in time while my reality is far into future.
Seranaea Jones Oct 2020

Just basically an accounting of
language as it is conveyed
between media types


Air, Silicone and Mail ;

in Air,
you have to
basically be ready to
respond within a reasonable
period, say about three or four seconds

upon Silicone, you could "afk" and then
mix a drink- rinse out the mixing
utensils and type a response
with some degree of

in Air,
you could breath
in the real-time vibes that
trigger automatic subject sensitivity,
like, (something too disturbing for me to detail here)

upon Silicone, you would be able to digitally
sort and discard these disturbing elements
and then lie to yourself about the
true weight of the

in Air,
a comedian can
deliver a punchline in
order to impulse a laugh out of you,
even to the point of spitting out your wine

upon Silicone, latency can cause punchlines
to be misinterpreted as an offense, which
will likely sully those carefully
established digital

could encode
the Air in the fashion
that Native Americans did
with campfires and blankets,

but i would never suggest that
you try and breath Silicone__ !

nor pattern the "the ins and outs"
of breathing within the basic scope
of a vacuum in order to encode
it upon a microchip that
can only be read by
a machine—

either way, in case you
may not have noticed,

Personal Letters are —at this moment—
asphyxiating into blue screen
deep inside the
Lost Mailbags of Redundancy...

© 2020 by Seranaea Jones
all rights reserved

"You've got Mail !!"—some electronic dood from AOL..

Carlo C Gomez May 2020
The eyeshadows
Of her favorite color palette
Were every bit as neoteric
As they were triturated
--broken to pieces
Inside a mailer
Without bubble wrap
Based on a true story.

BLT's new challenge- to write a poem using the Merriam- Webster word of the day, neoteric.
Anissa Aguila Apr 2020
Every day, at 3 o’ clock, on the dot, I check the mail.
I walk around the corner of the street in bare feet,
And I feel the sidewalk heat seep into my body,
Up my legs,
Making the skin tingle for the rest of the day.
The other day, a car turned around and followed me.
I thought,
What will it be today,
Kidnapped or catcalled?
I got to the mailbox and he pulled up next to me, window down, head out.
Oh, he said, just checking the mail.
Yes, I said.
Just wanted to make sure you were okay, walking away with no shoes, you seemed to be in trouble.
No trouble, I said, just mail. Im okay. Thank you.
He pulled away.
Parked at the house next to mine.
New neighbor.
Are you okay?
Do you feel this numbness as well?
Do you also wake up dizzy and strange?
I eat until I feel something.
I don’t until all I feel is hunger.
Your driveway is overflowing, neighbor.
Do you feel alone?
Do the dogs keep you up at night?
Does the news?
I’m sorry about the noise, neighbor.
I sing until my throat is sore, and then keep going.
I’m okay, neighbor.
I’m just checking the mail.
There’s nothing today,
But maybe tomorrow.
Carlo C Gomez Feb 2020
Ever since I moved to a different time period, I get the strangest mail.

Letters commissioning Michelangelo
to paint the Sistine Chapel.

Elizabeth Bennet's missive to her aunt
promising pony cart rides at Pemberley.

Long lost IRS tax forms belonging to Abbott and Costello.

Leonardo Da Vinci’s Job Application to the Duke of Milan.

Even Grace Bedell's charming correspondence to Abraham Lincoln, suggesting he grow a beard.

I should have known something was up once I discovered Karl Malone was my mailman.
One of these letter writers is fictional. Know which one?
Hussein Dekmak Aug 2019
When a housekeeper pours her heart into her work, making your home Clean and shining,
Say thank- you!

When a waitress greets you with a warm smile, and tries her best to Provide you a quality service,
Say thank- you!

When a mailman struggles to deliver your mail, fighting through Challenging weather,
Say thank-you!

Make others feel valued,
Express your gratitude,
Lighten their day with words of appreciation,
Embrace them with humanity, and treat them with kindness!

Hussein Dekmak
Edit 2
Next page