Poetry
Firefight
First punch landed at Stonewall, Bleached reef, powder nose, drip-drip-alive, Nightmare waking and post-sleepfuck-stares, You. Bought You,
Section
Poetry
Showing 97-120 of 671 pieces
Poetry
echoes of Ferlinghetti
skateboards dope and pogo sticks banana bikes and popsicle sticks ten cent candy up from five
Poetry
footprints
the air thickened with silence. a small robin robs the brush of whatever red berries exude from the death of this place.
Poetry
Remembering We Are Meant To be Joy
A soul is already carpeted in the divine and who is to say sorrow isn’t God? Who is to say love isn’t prayer? Who is to say time is always on our side?
Poetry
POET CAESAR
Only when you can delete your Submittable account, and box your poetry books into a carton shipped to a country without birds or borders;
Poetry
Five Poems by Adnan Kafeel ‘Darwesh’ Translated from Hindi by Rituparna Sengupta
Rituparna Sengupta translates five poems by Adnan Kafeel “Darwesh” from Hindi into English.
Nature & Environment
The Symbiotic Relationship Between Bird Photography and Writing
The ‘I’ in my poetry is never always myself. Trees and birds live inside me and much of my voice is theirs. They have changed..
Poetry
Picture
When four baby daughters up in the sky drain her anaemic heart, tears on Granddad’s photo against her riant chest, I crawl on her lap – My hug means to tell her, yes, she will see them again but please, not now.
Poetry
Death Dance
There were car accidents, illness, and war. Dia de Los Muertos arrived just in time. I surrendered as the ants overwhelmed me. Beneath blue skies and papel picado.
Poetry
True North (After Louise Glück)
Look for mentors and they’ll materialize, peer around corners, mouthing Psst with pursed lips,
Poetry
Waiting
A girl perched on a Translucent ocean In a dusty rose tunic On rowboat the color Of old paper, like the sky, The foam on the water,
Poetry
Cyclicity
Hovering over my body, in a tangled mess of silver threads going snap, snap, snap, I realise you were the fibre and tendon, and glue that held while we ended and began and ended and began;
Poetry
agarita
but the berries do not know they grow because they grow and only know how to grow in the front circle in the backyard up and down the gravel road all along the fence line
Poetry
Lemons
Yet there the seed waits all the while and dreams of its own life — my only way of reaching it is with my paring knife.
Poetry
don’t try so hard
I stood over him as he sat at the table setting the book down automatically in front of him he looked up and almost made eye contact asking, “Who do I make it out to?”
Poetry
Mo(u)rning on the River
From one realm to the next, may Your essence forever sizzle and soar. Because whether You believed or not, despite the world not consistently admitting nor deserving it, You were always the hero we needed.
Poetry
Preet Padam
I am red like raag yaman. Red like stirring ardor, like relentless vikara, Like flesh awash with rasa, Wasteful, like Laal Ishq, Red like death.
Poetry
MILE 3339
because there will come a mile where he is too weak to brush a horsefly from the bridge of his nose, his head on a stretcher pillow ringed by news microphones, surrounded by the indifference of trees;
Poetry
Ode to working the line
Winking bulbs, screaming vents. You need specialized footwear here. You need to wash workwear in a separate load due to its villainous grease.Senior members will ruthlessly remind. You must learn how to resorb the body’s complaints, fashion stout leather insides out of soft tissue.
Poetry
TRIPTYCH
When he scolded us, in our classroom with Sister Martin standing in back, about dating a non-catholic, his voice rose. “Drop them like a hot potato.”
Poetry
Listening To Julie London (In The Dark)
This darkness is a blessing, these minor keys in your mouth a different kind of Pentecost—deep cuts cutting me loose from language.
Poetry
Persistence
There—stuck in my neural net the drama has no answers for how turritopsis dohrnii can live forever, or why
Poetry
Study of a Wild Horse on a Shelf
A stop in Chinatown netted me a wild horse: purple plastic, glowing radioactive in the dark twenty years later, a survivor of that trip and more.
Poetry
Seven Dalit Poets Speak their Mind through their Poems Curated by Dr. Abhijit Khandkar
Dr. Abhijit Khandkar, a dalit poet and doctor by profession curates the works of seven contemporary dalit poets, who speak about various issues that concern their lives and as a result reflect in their writings. To be able to recognise, participate and understand such poetry is going back to the very roots of our culture, our angst and all that encompasses our literature.