Poetry
Playing moonlight sonata in the morning
Forgive me –The day breaks and so do I. Someone played the moonlight sonata at11 in the morning and all I could think of was..
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Poetry
Showing 265-288 of 681 pieces
Poetry
Nameri
Many have asked me,‘Who is Nameri?’Even you, Nameri. In all the world,there is only one Nameri.Nameri, the place,Nameri, the woman.Nameri:‘From God, who protects her,’from me,..
Poetry
Abecedarian for A Child Brought Up with Magic
Architecture meant nothing— except blanket forts in August. I didn’t know aboutBrutalist monoliths, Renaissance churches & Gothic arcs. I only knew aboutCrafting glue. I smattered..
Poetry
4 poems by Diego Valeri in Translation
Diego Valeri is an Italian poet and literary critic affectionately remembered as ‘the poet of Venice’. Laura Valeri translates four of his poems here.
Poetry
Bird-Scattered
He broke my spine down the middle,folded me between vertebraelike a grocery listand carried me to the mountaintopwhere the ground is too hard to dig…
Poetry
America’s Coast Is Ragged
America’s coast is ragged at the bottomYou know this from maps, of courseBut you don’t know it until you fly down into Louisianaon a late..
Poetry
the lake
i walk into the lake and die therethe search team drags nothingbut water to the shore i was just a kid after alland my blood..
Poetry
Entre Rios
Born between rivers, you are infinitelycultivated. Sand backwashed from the ocean. Good silt down from the plains. Fermented in Disneyworld bacteria, embryos fasciculate in polluted foam…
Poetry
confession
Afterward, I weep into the mole It waits, in shadows of your wrist I smoothen it, lingering my teeth
Poetry
The Air We Lived In
I remember the air we lived in;the color of hyper, aqueous thin and glinting lifebut shake the razor globe, upend itand we were jim-jammed, shaky,unfounded,..
Poetry
Candela
At 3AM sometimes I found the man sittingbleached in the light from the forecast on TV.There are no names for colors, he said,the first time..
Poetry
Lost and Found
Let heaven be a tune that belongs to an eighteen-year-old boy who has never had his own room—until now. He doesn’t even know himself well..
Poetry
Not my cup of Tea
Sipping teain front of Sephora,with my husband,the third one. I watch the girls from the cosmetic counterhuddle together, dressed in black smocks,full painted lips, coal-colored..
Poetry
Red Glass
White lost its virginitywhen I saw throughcherry eyes.The hoar turned to flame,my portrait, a whore.Who are you whogathers the hollyhockin your secret harem,seducing them,petal from..
Poetry
missed apology / missed chocolate
ted hughes arrived at my front door with an apology and a box of chocolates /dark chocolate melting over marzipan / he remembered my favorites..
Poetry
The Irascible Neruda
He loved the body of his woman.Harmonicas and mandolins playedIn the sense of wonder in his mind. At the end sudden winds blewThrough the plans..
Poetry
In the Library Reading “20th Century Pleasures” by Robert Haas
It is somewhat amazing to me. There can be so much to overlookand so much more to look over. I read Robert Haas speaking of..
Poetry
Consider Jerry Garcia
Who never embraced worldwide fameand sabotaged his health to cope andwas possibly wary of so-called fans who could turn on him when they did notget..
Poetry
The Body Applies Order
The body applies order.Count the tiles so your Mother doesn’t die.Vultures ate our lands but couldn’t fly. Kneel, said the fatherSay their names nine times, then..
Poetry
Johor Bahru
The music of Johor Bahru is sitar strings plying breezesoff the South China Sea, fanning jasmine and lemongrass across verandas. The music of Johor Bahru ..
Poetry
Roundness
So the new thinking now within the scientific community about the way genes and ..
Poetry
morris and the 2-ply manifesto
uranium rattlesnake whiskeywhatever morris has lying aroundhe loads into his army issue surplus duffelhe tosses into the backseatof his used sedanand lurches across interstate 80away..
Poetry
i fell in love with a woman
iridescent & indecent, the mississippi river reaches towards me like a lonely woman, first, she asks me what my mother never has for my..
Poetry
Driving through Pennsylvania at Night
Some days are nighthighways left to usto steer the starebetween reflective lines,coffee in one hand, a radioin one ear calling Willie“classic rock.” Say what!?Some days..