Posts Categorized: Poetry
Noah | Alan Inman
Noah, you lived in the wrong time, died too quickly, looked at your world with different eyes, taught me the value of getting to know a person, even if I disagreed with them. The post Noah | Alan Inman appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineSlipping on Ice | Ridley Flock
I slide face first scraping my knee and ego after discovering her cold frozen surface. The post Slipping on Ice | Ridley Flock appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineD-Day, June 6, 1944: “I have full confidence in your courage, devotion to duty and skill in battle.”
Order of the Day, June 6, 1944 Soldiers, Sailors and Airmen of the Allied Expeditionary Force! You are about to embark on the Great Crusade, toward which we have striven these many months. The eyes of the world are upon you. The hopes and prayers of liberty-loving people everywhere march with you. In company with… Read more »D-Day, June 6, 1944: “I have full confidence in your courage, devotion to duty and skill in battle.”
Order of the Day, June 6, 1944 Soldiers, Sailors and Airmen of the Allied Expeditionary Force! You are about to embark on the Great Crusade, toward which we have striven these many months. The eyes of the world are upon you. The hopes and prayers of liberty-loving people everywhere march with you. In company with… Read more »
Bach [by Lewis Saul]
Today, I’m here to talk about my favorite Bach ensemble — The Netherlands Bach Society and their “All of Bach” project — particularly Bach’s long-form works. The St. Matthew Passion (2:44:31) is at the top of the list for me. 164 minutes may seem like a long time, but the music is so sublime, the… Read more »Welcome Spring | Mónika Tóth
Clear blue sky The snow has retreated Welcome Spring The post Welcome Spring | Mónika Tóth appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineAcquisition | Russ Cope
Life is building a building up, one word, one picture one day, one year a series of images stapled to the wall telling a strange story. The post Acquisition | Russ Cope appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineAnnouncing the New POETRY Magazine Podcast Host and Readers for POETRY! |
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationMurmurations (III) | by Nilufar Karimi
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationThe Truth Is | Mónika Tóth
Dedicated to my nice Romanian friend Vasile You are my inspiration, every day. You are the smile on my face. You are sparkle in my eyes. You are the only song I want to sing. You are my light in the darkness, My strength when I’m too weak, My voice when I speak. My smile,… Read more »A Free Moment | Roger Still
For at least one moment’s wingspan I am free from worry, liberated from all the needle voices, then memory and life bring me back down into my suit of care. The post A Free Moment | Roger Still appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineGregory Pardlo: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
______________________________________________________ Raisin I dragged my twelve-year-old cousin to see the Broadway production of A Raisin in the Sun because the hip-hop mogul and rapping bachelor, Diddy, played the starring role. An aspiring rapper gave my cousin his last name and the… Read more »Not So Stranger | Camille Clark
The not so stranger knows my name, making me pretty promises each day, my muse with no name. I could speak to him but it may threaten to break this chain. The post Not So Stranger | Camille Clark appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineFlinch | Maggie Beck
School yard bullies made you flinch made you flinch One day they will grow up to gain mid-sections stand over grease pits Life is ironic. The post Flinch | Maggie Beck appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry Online“Do I Have Opinions?” [by Molly Arden]
Yes! I believe in Romeo, as Juliet said when she lay in the coffin pretending to be dead. That Tonto is no good, said the ambush chief and I, guzzling gas, can get no relief. The father figure who looked like Charlie Chan walked like Charlie Chaplin when he kicked the can. Lindsay Lohan is… Read more »Ape | Cattail Jester
The wise ape is smiling because he knows he’s an ape The rest of the apes don’t seem to see, they give themselves pretty stones from rivers and chatter about epistemology They pretend they are something other than animal, violent, selfish, reading their little books or no reading at all Even though the wise ape… Read more »Pelvis Elvis | Angelica Fuse
With his wiggly hips he rights wrongs of the world one song at a time. The post Pelvis Elvis | Angelica Fuse appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineIn Praise of Idleness” [by Paul Violi]
For the second time this week I’ve watched snow fall at sunrise, dawn arrive on a breeze (the way I think it always does). I don’t know which, time or the weather, woke me, charmed me out of a dream where a few of us floated around, gravity’s jokers, face-up in the quiet water and… Read more »We Jazz June: Guest Editor’s Discussion, Summer 2023 | by Emily Hooper Lansana
Go to Source Author: Poetry Foundation
Marilyn Monroe as Chanteuse [by David Lehman]
We don’t think of her as a singer, but Marilyn Monroe (whose birthday it is ) sang — and sang well. Unlike Rita Hayworth and Kim Novak in Pal Joey, Deborah Kerr in The King and I, Natalie Wood in West Side Story, and Audrey Hepburn in My Fair Lady, she needed no dubbing. (They shouldn’t have dubbed Ava Gardner in Show Boat but… Read more »A Glow Beauty | Mónika Tóth
dedicated to my best Romanian friend Vasile your smile smiled at me a glow beauty your eyes smiled at me a glow beauty The post A Glow Beauty | Mónika Tóth appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineA Glow Beauty | Mónika Tóth
dedicated to my best Romanian friend Vasile your smile smiled at me a glow beauty your eyes smiled at me a glow beauty The post A Glow Beauty | Mónika Tóth appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineCartoon Nelson | Angelica Fuse
Cartoon Nelson takes me on board his vibrant technicolor rocket ship I blast away to immortal pastel oblivion. The post Cartoon Nelson | Angelica Fuse appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineOn the ideal novel: Latent in every sentence is an alternative [By Sean Ashton]
All one could do was to glimpse, amid the haze and chimeras, something real ahead, just as persons endowed with an unusual persistence of diurnal cerebration are able to perceive in their deepest sleep, somewhere beyond the throes of an entangled and inept nightmare, the ordered reality of the waking hour. … Read more »Cruising in my Hoversnore
Go to Source Author: aprettykettleofpoetryCruising in my Hoversnore
Go to Source Author: aprettykettleofpoetryTake Care, me ‘andsome
Speaking after the service to the Uffculme gravedigger filling in the grave,he came out with some choice Devon that would have pleased Dave.Like’em say; them with lots of friends die young!200 or so I counted, and all there for one. The bells rang out at St Mary’s at the end, after Dun Ringill by Tull.Bells… Read more »Love, the Very Being of You | Mónika Tóth
Dedicated to my best Romanian friend Vasile Goodness, the very heart of you, Joy, radiates in the life of you, Love, the very being of you, being you. The post Love, the Very Being of You | Mónika Tóth appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineGolden Hair | Tempest Brew
You of the golden hair beautiful sometimes sour expression lead me past the land mines of the heart smile your half smile upon me. The post Golden Hair | Tempest Brew appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry Online
Poetry is Bread: Bob Holman with David Lehman
Related Stories Is the New SAT the Adolescent Equivalent of the Tax Code? [by Samuel Johnson] Go to Source Author: The Best American Poetry“No, the System Did Not Work For Me” [by Jill Jones]
Jill Jones was born in Sydney and has lived in Adelaide since 2008. Her latest book is Acrobat Music: New and Selected Poems, published in 2023. Other recent books include Wild Curious Air, winner of the 2021 Wesley Michel Wright Prize, A History Of What I’ll Become, shortlisted for the 2021 Kenneth Slessor Award and… Read more »Sanskrit | Roger Still
Facing a cave wall, some eggheads Considered the etchings and characters Left behind by ancient architects They must have had something in common Head, heart, lust, recipes? But their faces are long buried Beneath tides of earth and moss Someday, they will be in a museum Someday perhaps, they shall be truly rediscovered… The post… Read more »Skeptical | Izzy Noon
I want to trust but how do you? How do you sail past the island of doubt, how do you jump again when your ankles are still sore from previous attempts? I apologize that this poem is made up of questions, but so am I sometimes. The post Skeptical | Izzy Noon appeared first on… Read more »Is the New SAT the Adolescent Equivalent of the Tax Code? [by Samuel Johnson]
They’re reforming the SATs again, which means the columnists are duking it out about the efficacy of standardized testing, the merits of the venerable scoring sytem in which 800 aces the test, and the question of whether multiple choice questions, in which you are rewarded for guessing even if you don’t know for sure, are… Read more »The New York School Diaspora (Part Fifty-One): Anselm Berrigan [by Angela Ball]
What the Streets Look Like Mom: the sweet rotted summer stench still taps the nasal cavity inside breezes several times per block. I have a greater empathy for pigeons after two months at work in the unnatural country, & find it instinctively nerve- wracking to remove my wallet from its pocket here in town despite… Read more »Gasket | Roger Still
This is a poem about the great and wondrous thing-a-ma-bob This is an homage to that bit of piping that just doesn’t run right keeping you up Sunday nights This is a stanza to honor that exorbitant bill to replace a small part you can’t remember the name of. The post Gasket | Roger Still… Read more »This Poem | Angelica Fuse
I’m going to send this poem to everyone I know just to see who will give it love and let it take root just to see where my words can sprout how green they can be how well watered in this world. The post This Poem | Angelica Fuse appeared first on Best Poetry. Go… Read more »“Just Walking Around” [by John Ashbery & new bio notes]
Just Walking Around What name do I have for you? Certainly there is no name for you In the sense that the stars have names That somehow fit them. Just walking around, An object of curiosity to some, But you are too preoccupied By the secret smudge in the back of your soul To say… Read more »Weight of Light | Russ Cope
Just give off light flowing like lava from the heat held within, just bathe in light letting pores and capillaries fill with energy pockets, just flash by like light, a storm streak in a dark night of wishing. The post Weight of Light | Russ Cope appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author:… Read more »Captive to the Fool | Roger Still
Notice how the king is entranced By the noises of the jester Though they are crude, he is in love With the netherworld of life Watching as his jester takes him To the dingiest depths of depravity Then scales onto heights of impropriety When the time for bequeathing comes The jester will walk away with… Read more »Tara Borin: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
_______________________________________________________ List of Duties in a Subarctic Dive Bar If the temperature outside is twenty-five below or colder leave all faucets running and flush the toilets hourly. R. has a two-drink limit. A. likes… Read more »Four Amazing Quotes from Schopenhauer
Consciousness is conditioned by the intellect, and the intellect is a mere accident of our being, for it is a function of the brain. The brain, together with the nerves and spinal cord attached to it, is a mere fruit, a product, in fact a parasite, of the rest of the organism, in so far… Read more »Out | Maggie Beck
That feeling we all had of being new at the table alone. Invite everyone to the party. Include the world. The post Out | Maggie Beck appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlinePouch | Riley Coffey
Carry me, a youngling, a suckling, in your warm pouch, carry me up the trees across grass lands far far away from here. The post Pouch | Riley Coffey appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineMr Nonsense
Mr Nonsense talked of nonsensein his nonsense asylum.Talking nonsense, doing nonsensehe got from his nonsense mum. Go to Source Author: aprettykettleofpoetryPop Star
when it’s lyrics in a silent movie worldtakes them inwhen tuning into soundsis really listening when people talkswitches offwhen has to pay attentionfloats off with a drag and a cough has favouriteswrites off othersmemories are for keepsbut with what just happened hardly bothers selfish as a charity workertrapped as a volunteerstages a downfallputs on a… Read more »Panegyric | Sanjeev Sethi
You define heartbreak muss and all things mingy required in this rigmarole. You limn for me love its rites and residues. Unclaimed you abide in a dead part of me. You will last longer than me. You live in my lines. The post Panegyric | Sanjeev Sethi appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source… Read more »Extinct | Nate Maye
Look at me now, says the reptile man bathing in summer early heat, I’m here today but tomorrow — The post Extinct | Nate Maye appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineThe end of the semester: a farewell address [by DL]
Working with you has been a pleasure from start to finish. I’d like to leave you with a few thoughts: — You can do anything. When planning your future, do not limit yourself to the conventional career paths and to academic jobs dependent on advanced degrees. You can combine anything with poetry; you can be… Read more »Big Daddy Lipscomb (by Mitch Sisskind)
1. I asked Jesus for a moment of his time, We got together at the bottom of a mine And when I asked Jesus for twenty bucks He said ducks quack and chickens cluck But Big Daddy Lipscomb feared no man So be… Read more »Raven’s Flight | Frank Ferone
Up upon his city perch, nestled in obsidian dark. His keen eye’s never-ending search, until it meets it’s mark. Dispensing empty shells into the restless night. Never wavered with the rain. The thrill of will’s first flight. His conviction far extends his frame, his hunger never waiting. Peering through forsaken sky, aloft tenuous debating. His… Read more »Yesterday | Ananya S. Guha
The clock strikes, the moon with a glazed look descends on the howling dog. The stars seem to clash and the wind hovers over the sleeping town. This was yesterday. The post Yesterday | Ananya S. Guha appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineRichard Wilbur at the Y [in 2009] (by David Yezzi)
Richard Wilbur gave a splendid reading at the Unterberg Poetry Center of the 92nd Street Y last night. After a knockout selection of poems new and old, he capped the evening with a bit from his forthcoming translation of Corneille’s The Liar, which will be out in August in a volume that also includes his new translation… Read more »Woman invisibility: Ann-Eva Bergman, Glinda the Good Witch, ruby slippers, Gretchen’s Faust, Emmy Klinker and the fate of woman painters, etc., etc.
Marianne von Werefkin, Herbst (Schule), “Autumn (School)”, 1907. Photo Courtesy Wikipedia It’s Glinda, Good Witch of the West, who says the solution to a problem is as simple as closing your eyes and clicking together your personal pair of ruby slippers. I took Glynda at her word almost every day of my army career, hoping… Read more »Four Corners | Nate Maye
One corner to the next, we find pieces of the future, gluing them one to the other, a portrait mosaic, a complete image out of small parts. The post Four Corners | Nate Maye appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineSparring Partners | Roger Still
We are two shadows who have barely met, yet somehow aware of each other, We tangle in the dark of our minds. The post Sparring Partners | Roger Still appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineWEDNESDAYS WITH DENISE: May 24, 2023
For today’s post I offer this exquisite poem “Bicycles” by Paul Hostovsky, first published in Body. If you haven’t checked out this superb literary magazine, please do! BICYCLES Now I would rather remember life than live it. I would rather imagine life than live it. I would rather watch life going on from the… Read more »“Sperm Heaven” [by Henri Michaux, trans. David Lehman]
Sperm Heaven — a translation of Henri Michaux’s “Le Ciel du Spermatozoide” A man’s sperm bears a curious resemblance to the man himself – to his character, I should say. A woman’s egg bears an astounding resemblance to that woman’s character. Both sperm and egg are tiny. The sperm is very long and totally… Read more »Unmentionables | Edgar Law
Rugged, ragged, thread bare, shocking, We all have these Unmentionables hidden in our lives. Everyone just tries to pretend they are made of pure unblemished silk. The post Unmentionables | Edgar Law appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineFalling out of Bed | JD DeHart
There is no good way to fall out of bed except to not fall at all. The first time was when I stayed over and woke up in a tumble of sheets, writhing in a cocoon on the floor, tearful and unsure of where I was. I remember figures in the dark, crying softly like… Read more »
Czeching 1, 2, 3, 4 … [by Lewis Saul]
Four Czech New Wave films Invention for Destruction (1958) Karel Zeman (1910-1989). A master of stop-motion animation, he based the film on the Jules Verne patriotic novel Facing the Flag. Using miniature effects and matte paintings, his real-life actors had to act in an unusual stylized manner to match the animation. Loves of a Blonde (1965)… Read more »Call for Work: Lineage & Influence | by Charif Shanahan
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationGratuity | Carolyn Martin
The cabby’s black eyes bounce between the car-clogged street and his rearview. My family? In Palestine? Are they all right? Chopped to bits, my question hangs between his swaying beads and me. See what I have seen, his eyes grip mine. Grandfather – in his hut. My father – in our yard. An uncle –… Read more »How’s the World Treating You | Natalie Bentley
How is the grand mad world treating you today? Have you been invited to its tea? Will you sit down and drink from the cup that is sweet bitter or a little bit of both? The post How’s the World Treating You | Natalie Bentley appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best… Read more »The Joker’s Wild (Happy Birthday, Novak Djokovic)
Related Stories J. Tarwood: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch] Go to Source Author: The Best American PoetryJ. Tarwood: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
_______________________________________________________________________________ A Pause in Our Divorce Tomorrow, we start again, those leaflets on the blood of the lamb swirling about my blockade of shot glasses. Like a coffin with its lid kicked open, our trailer will shake when I blast out the door, stuffed tigers tumbling… Read more »Proxy | Edgar Law
Stand in for me, Love Take my name, make me proud and humbled simultaneously Stand on my number I will bear the struggle. The post Proxy | Edgar Law appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineProxy | Edgar Law
Stand in for me, Love Take my name, make me proud and humbled simultaneously Stand on my number I will bear the struggle. The post Proxy | Edgar Law appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineShattering Dreams | Ananya S. Guha
I stop at points, life is not systemic, too many interludes which behave like hangovers. Stopping. Pausing and then there are interruptions, abrasions, love, the past comes in a cycle, a metaphor. Dreams. I wish I had stopped reading and then speaking. Words are the biggest thieves, stealing all your rancid thoughts. I wish the… Read more »Without a Star, Keeping | by Alexandra Lytton Regalado
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationThe Smiths – I’d Risk My Driving License For You
This poem was written for a collection I did 2010/11 with poems written inspired by groups and singers I love as if they’d written the poem or lyrics. Remembered this poem because of Andy Rourke’s passing this weekend, fact he was only 59 like me, and the photo was taken in a cemetery in honour… Read more »Remembering a couple on a train back in ‘86 leaving London
Sat on a train, a young womanputs her arm round his shoulder.Sat close they are unitedon a station that heads for Nostalgia. Others when they can give lovelook and feel like an animal in a zooand when they finally realise they want tomight not have the opportunity to. In poetry, you can deceivebut things get… Read more »Cusp | Natalie Bentley
I am on the border of something new, an unfulfilled old promise tucked away, moth-eaten, now waving hello again after a long hibernation. The post Cusp | Natalie Bentley appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineYou Are an Angel | Mónika Tóth
dedicated to my nice Romanian friend Vasile in the icy wind I write for you you are an angel smart and beautiful sweet and strong you are an angel with a big heart and gentle smile you are a blessing you are so special to me. The post You Are an Angel | Mónika Tóth… Read more »Hit It | Maggie Beck
Hit it I say to the Doctor there goes my knee there goes my life I am trying to read my own biography in a lab report but it might as well be Latin. The post Hit It | Maggie Beck appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineAs Best We Know | Russ Cope
The measure of a parent or any person should be that we treat each other as well as we know how And I have not been the person I should be But I am committed to changing from now on. The post As Best We Know | Russ Cope appeared first on Best Poetry. Go… Read more »Vive la Difference [by Somerset Maugham]
“Have you never thought of divorcing Gray?” “I’ve got no reason for divorcing him.” “That doesn’t prevent your countrywomen from divorcing their husbands when they have a mind to.” She laughed. “Don’t you know? Because American women expect to find in their husbands a perfection that English women only hope to find in their butlers.”… Read more »Lady Caroline Lamb (1785-1828) [by Mitch Sisskind]
O be with me! How dear I am, Flinging myself from chair to chair. Hello, I am Lady Caroline Lamb. Would you like a witty epigram Or a discreet snip of my pubic hair? O be with me! How dear I… Read more »Galaxy | Tandem
I am standing in the madness swirl of the rest of the universe All I had to do was open my mind Listen to leaf whispers find the tallest place Breathe in. The post Galaxy | Tandem appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineDecade | JD DeHart
It’s been more than a decade I’m still learning how to be still apprentice to myself Still learning that to argue takes you nowhere, just a deserted road of rambling words, thickets of verbiage Still learning that any narrative seems to have the theme of not there yet, developing as the character discovers he or… Read more »“Prayer” [by Philip Metres]
Philip MetresPrayer Wither me to within me:Welt me to weal me common again:Withdraw to wear me weary:Over me to hover and lover again: Before me to form and perform me:Round me to rill me liquid incisions:Behind me to hunt and haunt me:Down me to drown indecision: Bury me to seed me: bloom meIn loam me:… Read more »Anne | Anonpoetrygirl
I haven’t seen my friend Anne in a while. My parents say sad things that don’t make sense, “Her dad will never walk her down the aisle,” And now they talk about her in past tense. We dress in black and all get in the car, It coughs to life and then we’re on our… Read more »I Feel | Mónika Tóth
I feel as old and empty as this longest of nights The post I Feel | Mónika Tóth appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry Online“Lufthansa” by John Tranter [Introduced by Thomas Moody]
“Lufthansa” is one of Tranter’s best and most anthologised poems. The poem is mimetic of one of its early lines: it seems “struck by an acute feeling of precision” which leaves little room for interpretation or “meaning” that extends beyond the surface of its language. Michael Brennan has astutely drawn comparisons between the poem’s “unity,… Read more »London
Ordering his full English breakfastmixed grillfish ‘n’ chipsbangers ‘n’ mash near Traitors’ Gate, he makes faces into his b ‘n’ bgreasy spoonlocal chippyale-house knife but as he digs in and egg-yokesH.P. Saucessalt ‘n’ vinegarsgravy-pours his plate, Out Eamonns Sir Francis Walsingham: “This is“This was“This could be“This would be your life!” Go to Source Author: aprettykettleofpoetryWEDNESDAYS WITH DENISE: May 17, 2023
Campbell McGrath’s Fever of Unknown Origin was published on May 9 by Penguin Random House. The title poem takes place as the speaker fights a long illness and is in a hospital right before Christmas. Here is an excerpt: The bad news is that I am periodically blind in one of those otherwise excellent eyes,… Read more »The New York School Diaspora (Part Fifty): Tyrone Williams [by Angela Ball]
Border Clashes We stroll out of El Zocalo to find a world turning white with snow. Not more than an hour ago, or so it seems, it was still just a neighborhood of homemade heaps and small dark houses huddled against the single-digit skies of southwest Detroit. Kim plods to his Escort. I… Read more »Brands | JD DeHart
Everyone is wearing their own brand, but I do not see them, nor do I see the holes in their jeans. I see their purpose, absorb their voice, but the faded labels and tucked or untucked virtues do not gain my notice. More at http://jddehartwriting.blogspot.com. The post Brands | JD DeHart appeared first on Best… Read more »Greenery | JD DeHart
Everyone here is green, young and nascent, not yet having earned their true darkness. Never mind; it will come soon enough. Their hearts will be betrayed, minds argued with, and the solid truth of their twenties and teens will settle into wavy ideas and more open conclusions later in life. They will rise up the… Read more »Jugular | Camille Clark
At our center a root, a life supply, We have our fantastic root system Keeps us supplied, loving, and moving. The post Jugular | Camille Clark appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlinePoetry Foundation Awards Over $1.6M in Grants |
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationSpeak Ill | HR Creel
We have learned not to speak ill of dead so close to living in the cemetery ourselves visions of head stones reciting epitaphs. The post Speak Ill | HR Creel appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineModel Railway
With no sound but tiny bells tinkling on an empty platform in the middle of nowhereand a model train silently moving towards a station there,the only waiting passenger listens to tiny bells tinkling on an empty platform in the middle of nowhereand a model train silently moving towards a station there. 6.20 pm.With no sound… Read more »An Ecology of Creativity (II) | by Allison Adelle Hedge Coke
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationWeekly News Roundup | by Harriet Staff
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationPrisoner | Edgar Law
We are made chains By our lack of wisdom Held back By the visions false We believe Tricked into hating By propaganda Thinking the evils Of this world come from Differences Our diversities are our One rope of strength Bound together Knit as one. The post Prisoner | Edgar Law appeared first on Best Poetry…. Read more »Losing It | Nate Maye
Little by little, In each hanging In each ugly word They lose it bit by bit, Ideals they once carried Promises they made, Lost in the tide Of their surging hatred. The post Losing It | Nate Maye appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineMarsh Hawk Press: The New Issue
You Are Invited to Explore Marsh Hawk Press Review for Spring 2023 Poetry | Paintings | Prose POETRY by: NATSUKO HIRATA DAVID LEHMAN CYNTHIA HOGUE JOHN YAU MARY CRESSWELL CHARLES BERNSTEIN ELAINE EQUI SANDY McINTOSH JOANNA FUHRMAN TOM BECKETT SUSAN TERRIS ANDREW LEVY EILEEN R. TABIOS CARLOS HIRALDO SHEILA… Read more »Ink | Alan Inman
A swell of bursting black spill I can use it to spell my name suss out my fate or smell my doom I can twist this ink so that it draws a portrait of my best side. The post Ink | Alan Inman appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineMigrant | Ananya S. Guha
Born 1957, 18th February, Shillong India. Welsh Mission Hospital. The eyes blue, so blue like a British exclaimed the doctor. A hundred years after the mutiny. Mother came from Mymensing, now in Bangladesh. A migrant with no stories of bloodshed, only that of one humanity. Hindu/Muslim. Now a migrant, I search for those living roots,… Read more »Violoncello [Dovid Hofshteyn – Trans. by Lera Auerbach]
Dovid Hofshteyn (1889-1952) left Russia during the years of war and revolution and was a pioneer of modernist literature in Yiddish after the First World War. He returned to the USSR in the mid-1920s and became involved in Soviet cultural activities in Yiddish. Like other Yiddish writers, Hofshteyn participated in the Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee. In… Read more »Violoncello [Dovid Hofshteyn – Trans. by Lera Auerbach]
Dovid Hofshteyn (1889-1952) left Russia during the years of war and revolution and was a pioneer of modernist literature in Yiddish after the First World War. He returned to the USSR in the mid-1920s and became involved in Soviet cultural activities in Yiddish. Like other Yiddish writers, Hofshteyn participated in the Jewish Anti-Fascist Committee. In… Read more »Hopscotch Post | Susan N. Aassahde
cinder toast nickle anchor rhubarb baseball fleece pot The post Hopscotch Post | Susan N. Aassahde appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineWeaving | Angelica Fuse
Where is racism when my world weaves a tapestry with yours? The post Weaving | Angelica Fuse appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineHis Critical Condition: On F. R. Leavis [by David Lehman]
In literary criticism, we remember the great practitioners by their errors and blind spots. Samuel Johnson dismissed Milton’s “Lycidas” — perhaps the greatest elegy in English literature — as artificial and insincere. T. S. Eliot introduced the term “objective correlative” in order to judge Hamlet a failure. Yvor Winters thought the world of Elizabeth Daryush,… Read more »“Mother Died Today” [by David Lehman]
Mother Died Today Mother died today. That’s how it began. Or maybe yesterday, I can’t be sure. I gave the book to my mother in the hospital. She read the first sentence. Mother died today. She laughed and said you sure know how to cheer me up. The telegram came. It said, Mother dead Stop… Read more »Dancing Shadows | HR Creel
On the farthest wall you can see a portrait of the finest elements each aspect of the story emerges by the firelight telling a story blown out of proportion by the flame. The post Dancing Shadows | HR Creel appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineThe Crow in the Snow | Changming Yuan
A baby crow Just beginning to look for Food on its own Pecking around As quietly As the snowfall itself Perhaps to pin its hope for spring Or to measure the depth Of winter The only living creature Hatched out of winter Bold, palpable as in a Chinese painting More at http://poetrypacificpress.blogspot.ca/. The post The… Read more »Reply | Izzy Noon
I would click Reply but what is there to say Sometimes silence is the best or only Response. The post Reply | Izzy Noon appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineReservations | Izzy Noon
In he walks offering his name the same way he would offer me his name at the end of the night, This long night my mother warned me about when I would have to choose between misery and loneliness There was no popping champagne to cap the sordid meal. The post Reservations | Izzy Noon… Read more »YESories and NOments
After dinner, two play violinas she dances on a pub table, just hours before her flight.While she steals an umbrella and gets caught outhe takes off Elvis, Saturday night. There’s one that quotes comedians verbatimas another cries her karaoke eyes out, having her lyrical say.As one of them eats spag.bol at 4 a.m.two water-pistol pedestrians… Read more »Treasonably Good
As the mob sludge-hovels homeex-executioners wash their hands in the clubhousewhile guillotine stray dogs roam. CATS SCRATCH CATS!BATS BATTER BATS!And beer mats get soaked in ale foam. As the saints come marching inone has blessed a mousewhile can-can dancers have anointed a tin. STEAM TRAINS STEAM!GILT-HEAD BREAM BREAM!Washed up with a gleam and a bottle… Read more »MACKENDRICK: Sweet Smell of Success (1957) [by Lewis Saul]
Alexander Mackendrick Sidney Falco (Tony Curtis), a press agent, is pissed. J. J. Hunsecker (Burt Lancaster) has been shutting his gossip out of his famous newspaper column for days now — all because Falco has somehow failed to break up a relationship between Hunsecker’s sister, Susan (Susan Harrison) and a guitar player in Chico… Read more »MACKENDRICK: Sweet Smell of Success (1957) [by Lewis Saul]
Alexander Mackendrick Sidney Falco (Tony Curtis), a press agent, is pissed. J. J. Hunsecker (Burt Lancaster) has been shutting his gossip out of his famous newspaper column for days now — all because Falco has somehow failed to break up a relationship between Hunsecker’s sister, Susan (Susan Harrison) and a guitar player in Chico… Read more »Anna Eva Bergman: woman painter, woman’s painting, woman as painter [by Tracy Danison]
Anna-Eva Bergman N°33 1947 ‘Ensomhet’ huset (gyllne snitt), “Solitude: the house (gold part)” Gestern, hab’ich zu viel Weißwein getrunken… It’s always so difficult to know where to begin. The sound of the phrase Gestern, hab’ich… makes me hear Longtemps, je me suis couché de bonne heure. It reminds me, too, of how very dissimilar things,… Read more »Not It | Alan Inman
Kids in the yard got nothing on me, I’m not it either When I tell them they look at me with confusion, then slowly back away. The post Not It | Alan Inman appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineDoesn’t Sound So Bad | JD DeHart
Doomsday doesn’t sound so bad after all If the neighborhood is no longer overrun by what seems to be a league of feral cats, if they all perish If the radio gains some silence and we have more than a crackle of signal lost to keep us enamored If there are still rivers where we… Read more »Caravaggio’s David with the Head of Goliath
Giorgio de Chirico, turning away from the surreal landscapes and abstract forms of his great period, went for refreshment to mythology, as in his 1940 painting “The Boar Hunt.” That’s how I started out. But because I am not permitted to show it here, I shall turn to my favorite Caravaggio, “David with the… Read more »Family of Vipers | Andromeda
A family of vipers lying in grass innocuous to look at letting people pass. A family of vipers watching each shift gimlet eyed attention waiting for a rift. A family of vipers hiding in menace flashing of forked tongue enjoying distress. A family of vipers closing in for kill a single deadly strike and watch… Read more »A Focus on Gesture | JD DeHart
Where did these various signs and gesticulations bubble up from? The bottom of bleachers, candy wrapper comics, bathroom stalls? Were they taught to us by some kindly giant with a Scottish name? And where does language come from, after all, a seamstress of sound sitting in our mind with nothing better to do but unravel… Read more »Phillip B. Williams: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
________________________________________________ Epithalamium A kiss. Train ride home from a late dinner, City Hall and document signing. Wasn’t cold but we cuddled in an empty car, legal. Last month a couple of guys left a gay… Read more »Murmurations (II) | by Nilufar Karimi
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationCaw | Nate Maye
Black birds outside my window call to me to wake up before it is too late, their cries overshadow the smaller light warbles of the red and blue birds. The post Caw | Nate Maye appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineNotations | JD DeHart
They assemble, they note they sway in unison. Ask them the ten question quiz, they will smirk. This they do not note. They have no reason, no remark, no railing force to see what words these demarcations attempt to explore. But hand them the right narrative, let them speak the story from depth of soul… Read more »Secrets of the River | Will Hall
I’ve seen gulfs. I’ve seen oceans that are large, and deep as a baritone. As deep as the Baltic Sea. These bodies of water are a reminder of me. I’ve swam in the Black Sea when the sky was white. Sailed the Mediterranean on my way to Egypt. Touched the bottom of the Atlantic, the… Read more »Sorry | Walid Abdallah
Sorry, If I ever make you angry or sad I feel broken, I feel bad When you are sad the whole earth cries Trees wither and the ocean dries When you are far, when you are away My soul leaves me and loses its way You are the only reason I live for Every day… Read more »Last Love [by Nikolay Zabolotsky, trans. Boris Dralyuk]
The car rumbled and came to a stop. Two emerged into the space of evening, and the driver, exhausted by work,| slumped down wearily onto the wheel. Constellations of lights, far away, trembled gently through the windshield. The aged passenger lingered a while with his lady beside the flowerbed. And the driver, through sleepy eyelids,… Read more »Darragh Park’s cover for “New American Writing” (#1, 1987)
In 1987, Darragh Park did the wraparound cover for the first issue of New American Writing (edited by Maxine Chernoff and Paul Hoover). The magazine had been formerly known as Oink! Here is the front: Related Stories “Christopher Brennan” by John Tranter [Introduced by Thomas Moody] Go to Source Author: The Best American PoetryIntervals | Stan Morrison
Time between the mouse click and the response waiting for a program to start or a printer to run staring at the final moments of a microwave job swaying over the toaster glowing but not done. Hours spent daily wasting a lifetime away betrayed by the machines of convenience promising fruit from the tree of… Read more »Craven Callings | Christine Emmert
Ask me why I shake my soul out from the downing deluge. Ask me with a quieter voice than the rage of storm. You were called. Not I. Do not expect company when you enter the tempest. The fireside along beckons me. Craven callings die under the crackle of soothing flame. The post Craven Callings… Read more »Promontories | Ananya S. Guha
Evening’s wetness has the tang of unobtrusive winter; emotions are upright ostrich-like, the wet earth, loose soil will shackle me to songs. Sprouting shadows. Love will gesture towards faraway promontories. The post Promontories | Ananya S. Guha appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlinePromontories | Ananya S. Guha
Evening’s wetness has the tang of unobtrusive winter; emotions are upright ostrich-like, the wet earth, loose soil will shackle me to songs. Sprouting shadows. Love will gesture towards faraway promontories. The post Promontories | Ananya S. Guha appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineTales of the Loch | Susan N. Aassahde
The mystery shark of dirt ranch scuttle the mountain noon. Deep loom of sage trout Irish whisper. The post Tales of the Loch | Susan N. Aassahde appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineTales of the Loch | Susan N. Aassahde
The mystery shark of dirt ranch scuttle the mountain noon. Deep loom of sage trout Irish whisper. The post Tales of the Loch | Susan N. Aassahde appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry Online“Christopher Brennan” by John Tranter [Introduced by Thomas Moody]
To honor the late John Tranter, one of Australia’s finest ever poets, I thought I would share some of my favorite poems of his over the coming weeks. “Christopher Brennan” encapsulates much of what makes Tranter so special. The poem most obviously showcases his mastery of form, which fulfills the demands of the sestina so… Read more »Wallace Stevens and the Iambic Line
from “Sunday Morning” : Death is the mother of beauty; hence from her, Alone, shall come fulfilment to our dreams And our desires. Although she strews the leaves Of sure obliteration on our paths, The path sick sorrow took, the many paths Where triumph rang its brassy phrase, or love Whispered a little out of… Read more »Betrayal | Stan Morrison
I’m no good reading between the lines I get stuck at decoding the obvious I believed all those lies you told me so who is really the fool after all I know that by tomorrow I’ll be fine and you’ll still have your sad life saga you’ve broken our rental agreement love’s only a lease,… Read more »Happy New Year | Stan Morrison
I’m not used to getting old just need a little more time I’m struggling with limitations a tunnel at the end of the light it’s my first time in this cycle senile stereotypes get to me so, I’ll simply keep my eyes out everything’s bound to change The post Happy New Year | Stan Morrison… Read more »
WEDNESDAYS WITH DENISE: May 3, 2023
This spring both James Allen Hall and Aaron Smith published new poetry books. James Allen Hall’s Romantic Comedy (Four Way Books, chosen by Diane Seuss for the Levis Prize) is an ingenious look at the erasure of queerness in film. He writes “Is it any wonder / I have failed to imagine my life won’t… Read more »June Events 2023 dance performance festival features variety, environment and sense experience [By Tracy Danison]
“Peeling Back”, solo performance by Nina Santes. Photo © Roberto Martinez DURING A BREAK BETWEEN COVID LOCKDOWNS, I went to a performance at one of the big theaters. About 30 minutes into it, people started walking out, saying they had come for “dance” and got “performance”. I became witness to an ongoing controversy. Something like What… Read more »Fahrenheit Zebra | Susan N. Aassahde
scullery noon spinach frost bloom samosa mountain spade The post Fahrenheit Zebra | Susan N. Aassahde appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineFahrenheit Zebra | Susan N. Aassahde
scullery noon spinach frost bloom samosa mountain spade The post Fahrenheit Zebra | Susan N. Aassahde appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineI Dream, Therefore I Exist | Madhavi Katre
She dreamed about it, day and night, Knowing it was too good to be true. Wanting for it to happen with all her might, But being practical was her virtue. Some told her to pray, others to visualize Saying, work your way, don’t see left or right. Work she did, day and night, On her… Read more »when waking up in heaven
dreams come truethat didn’t beforethe world as you wanted itbeing proved right in being unsure meeting people close far away from youpeople you missa coincidence that turned outto be your golden destiny with a kiss having courage to talk about somethingno need to feignbeing at favourite virtual YouTube concerts in the fleshhelping mosquitos to bugger… Read more »
Shostakovich: Tahiti Trot [by Lewis Saul]
SHOSTAKOVICH, Dmitri (1906-1975) Tahiti Trot (1928) Staatsoper Berlin Daniel Barenboim, cond. (4:08) Vincent Youmans composed Tea for Two for his musical No, No, Nanette in 1927. Shostakovich and his friend, the conductor Nicolai Malko, recalled hearing the tune in ’27 at the Meyerhold Theatre in Moscow in a play called Roar, China. In one… Read more »Shostakovich: Tahiti Trot [by Lewis Saul]
SHOSTAKOVICH, Dmitri (1906-1975) Tahiti Trot (1928) Staatsoper Berlin Daniel Barenboim, cond. (4:08) Vincent Youmans composed Tea for Two for his musical No, No, Nanette in 1927. Shostakovich and his friend, the conductor Nicolai Malko, recalled hearing the tune in ’27 at the Meyerhold Theatre in Moscow in a play called Roar, China. In one… Read more »“May Day” [by Nicholas Christopher]
The demented song of a woman forty four people in this city die of the same disease Her voice rises and falls between two notes up and down the scale two words unintelligible at first She is unseen invisible out of sight maybe no more out of her mind than anyone else except that she… Read more »Beautiful Things | Chris Byrne
A smile so simple will make the world go round never knowing, for a smile could mean so much, making someone’s day unknowingly. Just that simple touch, a kind pat on the back, making someone’s day or one of those loving kind embraces that make one feel alive. To be alive is it to feel,… Read more »Wishing I Could | Edgar Law
And do you know how I went to that high place knowing how I tumbled and wishing I could peel and throw away the errors of years past? The post Wishing I Could | Edgar Law appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineEarth Music | Riley Coffey
Listen as you press your ear to the ground a music rumbles up reverberates small evidence of a teeming world beneath you. The post Earth Music | Riley Coffey appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineLeaves | Nancy May
train doors open on a blustery breeze a torrent leaves More at https://twitter.com/Haikuintraining. The post Leaves | Nancy May appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry Online27th Battalion
Final fag in my mouth into the battle lineswith everything to prove to myself.Mustard gas smoke signals leave sky-signsto read on packets for your health. I’m whistling a little tune from before the warhoping I will get to win la guerre.I dream of being able to snore once moreand wake up to breathe in a… Read more »Mad and the Dose-Miracle Addicts
They cried their eyes outFeeling free.In a world of usnessthey felt such thempathy. She worked in her labmaking concoctionsto rid them of their own fearsand self-rejection. But then, she hit the streetsand the authorities hit backputting anyone in prisonwho had her statue in their sack. It was only years later when troubled soldierswere fighting for… Read more »Block Me Not | Blanca Alicia Garza
Pieces of my notebook paper lie scattered on the floor Trying to write a poem but nothing comes to my mind The words in my head go in circles without making sense This time the writer’s block doesn’t want to leave I went to the kitchen to brew some nice hot coffee It’s 3 a.m…. Read more »Elephant Spirit Matriarch | Angel Edwards
The elephant matriarch spirit must look out for the good of the entire herd She will cast an even handed kindly rulership over all of the herd with no favourites the mother’s ruling is The final word However elephant children take presedence their well being happiness the essence of their tenderness . noble inflexible …. Read more »The Sixties [by Bill Wadsworth]
The Sixties The cruelties of April and mornings in America still reverberate even now on the further side of the hill with our sixties behind us and the day getting late and the old wars behind us and our hair turned white there’s a late snowfall melting fast… Read more »The Rienzi Hotel [by Mitch Sisskind]
The Rienzi Hotel Day is serious but night is play Of dark around the headlights; Police at the Rienzi Hotel anyway. Queen Moon in her royal array Don’t appear every single night; Day is serious but night is play Night, we do it our own way Do whatever with all our might; Police… Read more »Around the River | Cattail Jester
I traveled around the river she carved in between us. I found my way around, only to look back and see the bridge I’d never noticed. Which allowed me to run back quickly. The post Around the River | Cattail Jester appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry Online97 | Edgar Law
I was once younger but still too old I was once a dream and hope, then a wisp I was once a window then became a closed door. The post 97 | Edgar Law appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineIn Honor of the Late John Tranter [by Thomas Moody]
John Tranter, one of the foremost figures in Australian poetry over the last half-century, died earlier this week aged 79. Perhaps no one has done more than Tranter, as poet, editor, anthologist, publisher, critic and radio broadcaster, to place Australian poetry’s response to modernism (and postmodernism) into an international context. From his early interests in… Read more »First Aid | Catherine Howe
As the smiles and sunlight pass before me, encapsulated in stasis on screen, I am falling. This is not a fall to be prepared for, but sharp and sudden. Shocking. In clear view, I see myself. It comes to me that I will never have this. My time has passed, as the past lies dormant,… Read more »Nothing | Katt Gold
“I love you,” he said. “But you don’t,” I replied. “I do,” he said, “I’ll do anything to prove you wrong.” He lied. Just like all the others. Once he discovered the damage, found the baggage, he checked out just like all the others. Found an “easy” mate. You know the kind, boring, disconnected, easy…. Read more »Laurence Goldstein, Editor and Poet, 1/5/1943 – 4/16/2023, Ann Arbor
On April 16th we lost Larry Goldstein, longtime editor of the Michigan Quarterly Review (32 years!), an inspired anthologist, editor, poet, and professor at the University of Michigan. I have often said that the editors of literary magazines, underpaid and overworked, are among the unsung heroes of literature. Larry was certainly in that category. He… Read more »Squib 498 [by Alan Ziegler]
It is 5:43 p.m. in New York a Saturday one day before my birthday, yes and the Manhattanville Viaduct with her face on it. and I am sweating a lot by now (because it’s August) and thinking of Barney Josephson, pushing 80 leaving his apartment in a snowstorm to host at the Cookery and a young neighbor… Read more »Lock | Cattail Jester
I swore to unlock her sweet denim goddess with wise words yellow hair thick pink lips But the key would not work and all I could do was pull uselessly on a closed dream. The post Lock | Cattail Jester appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineGently Used | Edgar Law
My hands all busted I troubled myself to engage in creation My feet sore from the travel I tried to keep on But someone else had the patent stole the formula Put me out of business before my fingers were even cleaned. The post Gently Used | Edgar Law appeared first on Best Poetry. Go… Read more »Tony Towle: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
_______________________________________________________ In Progress We adjust the background so that I am still in a forest, but the traditional kind, not one made of cement and glass, but composed primarily of wood and auxiliary vegetal matter, aerated… Read more »Second Guessing
New collection just published called ‘Second Guessing.’ It’s up in the menu along with other collections/pages. All poems written this year, and collages so fresh they’re still drying! Go to Source Author: aprettykettleofpoetryEvening Town | Ananya S. Guha
It is raining; mists unfurl out of rainbow trees, soaked hills and mountainous blues, houses weigh under territories, the cold is steeped in comatose clothes as stalkers look away, walk away without hindrance. For long these hills have snatched disbelief in tremors, tacitly brushing odoriferous pines, skies fall out of silent winter, spring or summer…. Read more »Believe Me | Cattail Jester
No really I’m a prince This is a castle An ancient sword Not a sub sandwich The kingdom ours. The post Believe Me | Cattail Jester appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineIn Praise of the Late John Tranter [by Thomas Moody]
Word has just reached us that John Tranter, the brilliant poet and editor, died on April 21, just eight days shy of his 80th birthday. We will be running a tribute to John Tranter and posting some of his poems in the coming days. For now, let us let Thomas Moody introduce American readers to… Read more »Rock’n’Roll Cat
Got a lot to learn.Got bridges to burn.Got a dream to get away.Got waking dreams that stay. Got days that last forever.Got a life never ever after.Got medicine under a mattress.Got a treasure hunt at the chemist’s. Got a discount on something free.Got a detox kit for being happy.Got an escape plan with no exit.Got… Read more »Curtsy to Men | M.K. Summer
you said you weren’t like the rest the rest weren’t like the rest and you weren’t like you to spit up the words I want to hear I crave and chew them out of my lovely flesh my arms bitten down to the bone by your harsh words the regret I wish I had for… Read more »For Guy | Edgar Law
Peddler of poems, How much time does It take to put them all On this site, spreading The rhymed and unruled World of verse, thoughts Brought down to the mud In words? The post For Guy | Edgar Law appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineWell Well Well and Well
As random as a random turnand heading for a fateI sealed it in an envelopeand second class did wait.And when it came I opened itand whispered out aloud.Well well well and well, said Iwell well well and wellthen thundered out some lighteningand puffed a big grey cloud. Higher than a drama highand playing down to… Read more »Without a Star, & | by Alexandra Lytton Regalado
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationSplintered | Ken Allan Dronsfield
Bending twisting deserted. Windswept bristle cone legend grown. Rock or slag of boundless stone crags. Lifeless eyes exhale dust winded grass. Rattlers move rise or tried high plains. Desert chill breathing still splintered dry. —– Ken Allan Dronsfield is a Published Poet and Author originally from New Hampshire, now residing in Oklahoma. He enjoys hiking,… Read more »In the Park
Birds gossip about weekend strollerstwittering and ridiculing panting joggers.Olympic-faced kids whizz round on their tricyclesand monk-faced bellringers meditate on bicycles. Lesser-spotted warbling hermits get ticked offby ‘I-Spy’ book-carrying hermit spotters with binocular eyeswhile ear-phone music-listening loners chat with mallard duckswho tilt their heads with my-oh-mys. Grass grows a millimetre a minute for hallucinogenic catsand dogs,… Read more »“Northern Pike” by James Wright [as presented by Jenny Factor]
Jenny Factor on James Wright Stacey Harwood’s important post earlier this week put me in mind of James Wright. A poet and exemplar of endurance. A sturdy fragile voice. Perhaps I’m looking for an antidote. Perhaps I’m just looking. In any event, I was reminded this morning of his “Northern Pike”. This is one to read slowly to… Read more »Poems Writing Life | Michael Kagan
In the center of infinite space So special We are here in this place Like snowflakes chased By the winds of madness Grains of sand Shifting and reforming In the crosshaired Middle of time Little sacks of flesh Muscle tied to bone We are sunbeams In the core We are star charged minds We are… Read more »1956 Saxophone | Judy Moskowitz
It only took one measure To become the color Of a fuchsia swing The conference of notes Non synthetic Like a Bukowski poem Fingers long and lean Playing with fluidity His mouth perfectly formed To blow On his 1956 saxophone It reaches the ivories With an abstract Point of view A Dali painting Surrealistic A… Read more »Three Sonnets (by Mitch Sisskind)
Tears of the Intellectuals Tears of the intellectuals, bitter dew, Moistening pages of ponderous books Schmerz of the intellectuals, sad but true, Bellyaching of the egghead schnooks, Kvetching, self-loathing anchored deep In the hearts of intellectuals albeit they know The galaxies’ secrets, and what life forms creep In brackish saltwater, and how protozoa grow. Oy,… Read more »Introduction to a History of the Sky [by Tom Disch]
There is not a single sky but rather a diversity of single sky-moments strung out like beads on a celestial necklace. The Greeks believed in a single sky with Zeus its ruler and his son Apollo a traveler traversing it each day like the conductor on a modern railway train. Any child knows better now,… Read more »Anorexia | Ann M. Bauer
These early seventy years have betrayed her, She never saw it coming. Her powerful ego failed to respect the bones and muscles of her core. The stone statue of her frame gradually crumbled, By the insidious attempt to starve it. She won this battle, but at what cost? The inability to walk, sit, stand for… Read more »The Maid | Ann M. Bauer
Neither a foul nor friendly smell, but odd, Unfamiliar, both intriguing and heightening her anxiety that perhaps this was something she created. The rotting oranges in the bottom of the fruit basket, the mildewed towels scattered on the floor? The rusty pipes, or the neglected cat’s litter box, The weight of accumulating waste, its lingering… Read more »Enlightened Spirits | Blanca Alicia Garza
I wish flowers would sprout from our bones, not ashes or dust, forgotten in the cold ground. Our essence then coated with a thousand colors, not with the tears of those who remain behind. May our enlightened spirit then fly free, as ravens within the light of the full moon. The post Enlightened Spirits |… Read more »Joy Cometh in the Morning | Christine Emmert
I cannot contain or yet restrain the arrival of joy each day. By eventide the joy is dimmed. New joys hide among the stars to be uncovered by another sunrise. The post Joy Cometh in the Morning | Christine Emmert appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry Online[META] Posting your own poems here — when to post and when to head to one of our sibling subreddits
This sub is for published poems. There are many subs that allow users to post their own original, unpublished work. In Reddit sub parlance, an original, unpublished poem is considered “original content,” and the largest sub for that is r/ocpoetry. There are still some posting rules there — users must actively participate in the sub… Read more »[Poem] What You Missed That Day You Were Absent from Fourth Grade by Brad Aaron Modlin
submitted by /u/bananiko [link] [comments] Go to Source Author: /u/bananikoWEDNESDAYS WITH DENISE: April 19, 2023
Vievee Francis’s fourth book The Shared World was published on April 17 by TriQuarterly Books. Revelatory and redemptive, Francis is a poetry seer writing searing verse. The book’s cover art is a 1965 photograph of Galway Kinnell being assisted by Juniata College senior Harriet Richardson after Kinnell had been hit by a state trooper’s billy club in… Read more »Quote of the Day [by Harrison Ball]
NYCB Principal Dancer Harrison Ball. Photo © Ricky Cohete Ed note: Soon after Harrison Ball was made a principal dancer with the New York City Ballet in 2022, he suffered several injuries that have ended his promising dance career. He is retiring from the company this spring, at 29. His final performance is on April… Read more »Infinity | Anna Banasiak
I’m looking at people lost in the rushing universe I’m only a drop of time in a gust of eternity I’m searching for the truth in the music of things wandering in the world like a blind bird. The post Infinity | Anna Banasiak appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry… Read more »Frozen Woolen Blanket | Michael Kagan
Among the moonlit thistle in guilt-ridden fleece weeping under thick coats of burden Grief never truly sheared whispered prayer trembling fear Now spun and artfully woven the heavy woolen blanket emotionally frozen hopelessly folded on sale in a quaint country store A couple long seeking a flawless loving cover yet one more poor selection challenged… Read more »“What It Feels Like to Be Aaron Smith” [by Aaron Smith]
What It Feels Like to Be Aaron Smith Though you would never admit it, you’re still shocked by pubic hair in Diesel ads on Broadway and Houston, and you wonder what conversations lead up to a guy posing with his pants unzipped to the forest. Maybe the stylist does it, but somebody had to… Read more »The New York School Diaspora (Part Forty-Eight): Nathan Hoks [by Angela Ball]
Poem for Wendy’s Eyes Last week as I was eating an apple pie With my bare hands all by myself In a small room painted lime green And lit by a dim chandelier which Hung from a white ceiling that sparkled I thought about Wendy’s green eyes Which made Wendy’s eyelashes look green Which reminded… Read more »Seasons of Life | Jurg Friedli
Springtime of my life my mother’s voice inside me C’mon, it’s time to eat she’s always there to guide me her shoulder strong and near she’ll never disappear. Summer of my life full blossom girl I found dark beauty as she was she made me turn around changing my life from wild to marriage and… Read more »All Those Years Ago | Jurg Friedli
All those years ago time was on your side your way was smooth and straight appearance was all pride You had it all you know the talent and the guts were ready for the show the girls, well, they were hot Seemingly endless time the crowds around all day and lots of friends it seemed… Read more »Remembering Darragh Park [by David Lehmam, David Grant Noble, & Others]
Cherry blossoms filled the air, swept by the May wind, and a friend said, “Oh, I thought it was snowing.” That, Darragh Park said, was the effect he tried to get across in his paintings. He wanted to convey the pink cascade before it gained definition as blossoms or snowflakes — and to convey the… Read more »Aesthetics | Baris Semerci
late winter breakfast irregular poetry inverse aesthetics deliberately leaving linear programming flaws More at https://twitter.com/hwl76/status/1205779904555618310. The post Aesthetics | Baris Semerci appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineWishful Thinking… Success | Julandie Greyling
Forever and ever and ever Destroying Dragging this down Like a living zombie Fear, fear Uncertain, waiting Hoping for failure Trying with no success Hating the beauty Of what should be Despised, confused Hating hating Nonetheless thinking wishfully The result is… nothing Nothing, nothing, No result, no meaning Death. The post Wishful Thinking… Success |… Read more »An Ecology of Creativity | by Allison Adelle Hedge Coke
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationNin Andrews: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
__________________________________________________ If anyone reads these poems they will think they know what kind of person I am. They will, I am certain, imagine me as someone else, someone I can never be—simply because I have written poems… Read more »This Morning’s News | Stan Morrison
The interface of Self and Conformity A constantly shifting boundary line Self-myths and self-righteousness To meet politely the faces we meet “I’ve always” sparring with “I’ve never” This recipe is always self- adjusting Forever responding to new climates A restless Self/Conformity amalgam Until the moment of actualization: JUST LEAVE ME ALONE! The post This Morning’s… Read more »Season’s Greetings | Stan Morrison
Protocols of the Elders of Zion Fabricated in Mother Russia Anti-semitism sent worldwide Jew bankers hoarding capital And planning global domination No Jews with money found In New York’s Lower Eastside Or in all the urban ghettos Michael Gold set us straight Poor folks plotting survival Henry Ford et al signed up A threat to… Read more »Jackie Robinson
On April 15, 1947, Jackie Robinson made his debut with the Brooklyn Dodgers. He played first base. In subsequent years he was the game’s premier second baseman. The first black player in the major leagues endured insults, taunts, threats, slurs. He was a terrific player, a Hall of Famer and World Series hero, with guts… Read more »Lera Auerbach’s Symphony #6 at Carnegie Hall (Wednesday, April 19, 2023)
Lera Auerbach’s Symphony #6 at Carnegie Hall (Wednesday, April 19, 2023) “Vessels of Light” for violincello, chorus, and orchestra American premiere Presented by the American Society for Yad Vashem and Yad Vashem A Concert for Sugihara Wednesday, April 19, 2023 7 PM Stern Auditorium / Perelman Stage / Carnegie Hall https://leraauerbach.com/biography/ https://leraauerbach.com/compositions/ Kristina Reiko Cooper, Chiune… Read more »Parental Yoke | Rising-of-the-Sun
O what a tangled web weaved over me. Breeding no lines halcyon luring indecipherable scrawls. O scrabbled pinched of error baffling my steps. “foggy cloud are near”. O mirror…. through which we see. Modelling of flowers can be restricted from growing an inch. Thy vehicle transported us, hold no string of faring us. Sprouting away… Read more »Peace | Chrispan wa mo Afrika
Peace is not the absence of war, It is not the absence of heartaches, Not the deafeter of hate and cater of love, But the caterer of hate and conquerer of love, Not the devourer of wickedness, Not even the victor of uncertainity, It is merely much deeper than all those, Peace is larger than… Read more »Breakage and Repair [by Lera Auerbach]
In early 2020, Yad Vashem – The World Holocaust Remembrance Center commissioned me to write a large symphonic work for cello, choir and orchestra related to Chiune Sugihara, a Japanese diplomat in Lithuania during WWII. Chiune Sugihara and Dutch diplomat Jan Zwartendijk helped thousands of Jews flee the onslaught and murderous march of the Nazi… Read more »Memories by Moonlight | E.C. Vento
What would I know that the moon hasn’t seen underneath it’s shimmering glow by the water. The shadows in the sand made by feet remind me of us hand in hand, and how we used to be. and now how we faltered. Another night drinking with memories… by the moonlight. The post Memories by Moonlight… Read more »Criminal | G. S. Katz
We’re always apart Passion like ours Dies undercover The post Criminal | G. S. Katz appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineLa Biennale de la danse du Val de Marne 2023 #2: I got that hip hop feeling [By Tracy Danison]
“C Off the square. “C A R C A S S” by Marco Da Silva Ferreira. Photo © Jose Caldeira For La Biennale de danse du Val de Marne 2023 the energy- in-creativity exemplified by Aina Alègre’s This is not an “Act of Love and Resistance” has a consistently “hip hop feel” even when it’s… Read more »“deflated at dusk” by Rebecca Jessen [Introduced by Thomas Moody]
Rebecca Jessen is a Brisbane based poet whose first poetry collection Ask Me About the Future (UQP, 2020) was shortlisted for the 2021 Victorian Premier’s Literary Award for Poetry, the Kenneth Slessor Prize for Poetry and Commended for the Anne Elder Award. “deflated at dusk” evokes the sometimes excruciating slowness of a family summer… Read more »WEDNESDAYS WITH DENISE: April 12, 2023
Kyle Dargan’s Panzer Herz: A Live Dissection will be published on April 15, 2023 by TriQuarterly Books. Panzerherz is an armored heart, a medical term to describe a dense calcification, “armored” in the manner of a military vehicle. Metaphorically rich, Dargan opens his book with conflicting quotes about masculinity by Theodore Roosevelt, André 3000, Michel… Read more »Thinking of You My Love | Jocelyn Seward
Thinking of youMy love,Though I’m supposed toBe thinking aboutThe work in front of me,Nothing matters butThe memory of theTime I spend with you,The joy and passion,The warmth and kindness.You and I are one,Two parts of the same being,Walking together in harmony,My heart completely yours. The post Thinking of You My Love | Jocelyn Seward appeared… Read more »With Each Other | Clive Paul
Together we canDo anything,Go anywhere,Grow stronger inWays we can onlyImagine. With each otherWe dance and dream,Living life blissfully,Passionately,Without a careIn the world. The post With Each Other | Clive Paul appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineDoug Lang: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
Doug Lang at the Rodin Museum in Paris, 1996. Photo by Sandra Rottmann ______________________________________________________________________________________ Lang’s Special Fortune Cookies Nothing special is coming your way. Your luck will not change today. Your sense of humor is of no use to you. No one is thinking of you this evening…. Read more »14 Fellini films [by Lewis Saul]
Criterion’s FELLINI box 14 films, lovingly restored Criterion put together this gorgeous box set in 2020, in honor of Fellini’s 100th birthday. I hear you, you’ve seen ’em all. Or most of ’em … Maybe you saw La Strada years ago in a semi-mutilated print with emulsion scratches, projector noise, and gate jitter. Here’s… Read more »My Heart | Tristram Siddall
My heart is yours,At every moment,During every season,In the middle of the nightOr at dawn’s first light.You enthrall me,Make me giddy,Satisfy me deeply,Ignite the passion withinWith a single kiss.I thought I only hadSo much love to give,But you’ve shown meThat there is no endTo my affection.You’re everything I need,I love greatly indeed. The post My… Read more »Love Dream | Davis Bourke
My love dreamIs about you.You’re beautiful,Kind, caring,Compassionate,Passionate,Exciting, enchanting,Engaging,Inviting.A vision in the sky,A mirage in the desert,A wave in the ocean,A mountain touching the clouds.You are my everything,All I could want,The air I breathe,You complete meMy dream love. The post Love Dream | Davis Bourke appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry… Read more »A Little Mod Post About Conduct In This Sub
Hey everyone, I’m a new moderator of this sub, after being invited by u/mort-the-moose. I wanted to join this sub as primarily a force against hate and a force for productive and peaceful discussion. Please consider me this sub’s equivalent of a Diversity and Inclusion moderator. If you have any concerns about such subjects in… Read more »A not on posting original content — both published and unpublished
This sub is for published poems. There are many subs that allow users to post their own original, unpublished work. In Reddit sub parlance, an original, unpublished poem is considered “original content,” and the largest sub for that is r/ocpoetry. There are still some posting rules there — users must actively participate in the sub… Read more »The Day We Met | Braden Kendal
The day we met-A day like no other,Life changing,Exciting,A wonderful new Adventure unfolding.The way you looked,The things we said,Etched in my mind,Complete happiness.I’m so grateful I met you,You’re a beautiful flowerIn a verdant meadow,Sunshine on aCloudy day.I love you so much andWill always cherishThe day we met. The post The Day We Met | Braden… Read more »Falling in Love with You | Candice Ashley
Falling in love with you wasEffortless, it just took a second,One glance, one word you said,One enchanting smile.Your mannerisms mesmerizing,Effortlessly gorgeous, tantalizing,A beautiful song, a breath ofSpring air, a ray of light brighteningMy life and making meDance with joy.A wonderful gift,A fabulous companion,Passionate lover,Falling in love with you was easy. The post Falling in Love… Read more »Paul Hoover: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
_______________________________________________________ Driver’s Song I shall never reach Danville, Ohio, Danville distant and lonely. Black car, small moon, in the back seat beer. Because I’ve forgotten the roads I shall never reach Danville, Ohio. Over the plains, through Indiana,… Read more »Remembering “Easter 1916” [by Terence Winch]
On Easter Monday of 1916, 150 or so Irish rebels took armed action against their British rulers, seizing the General Post Office (GPO) in Dublin. After a week of fighting, they lost to the thousands of British troops arrayed against them, but the Rising ultimately led to Irish independence from the mighty British Empire. Given… Read more »I Love… | Edwin Alden
I love the way youLook at me whenWe’re alone. I love the intimateMoments of blissWe share. I love howWe laugh atAnything, everything. I love how you Make me feelAll the time. I love how weJust seem toFit together. I love everythingAbout you,My sweet love. The post I Love… | Edwin Alden appeared first on Best… Read more »Everlasting Love | Elly Atkinson
Sunrise, sunset,Cycle of seasons,Moon travelingAcross a starry sky.Deepest affection,Passion unlimited,Growing together inPerfect harmony.We’re a natural pair-Made for each other,Singing the same song.Tenderness, passion,Fondness forever,Our everlasting love. The post Everlasting Love | Elly Atkinson appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry Online“How Was Your First Day of School?” [by Stephanie Paterik]
We learned to jump out the window. First grade, first floor. My knees only stung a little when I landed in grass. We played tag, Willow was the bad guy and Max and I hid behind the oak. Did I tell you there’s an oak tree, Mom, like the one at home? I can hide… Read more »Will I Find True Love? | Retha Trevis
Will I find true love?Such a vast question,Until I met you.Suddenly, it all made sense.I could see it in theWay you looked at me,The way we talked,How we loved each otherWith passion and care.I found love in you,My dearest soul mate.You’re the one for me,No one else exists.You make me whole,I’ve found true love. The… Read more »My Love Poems for You | Alison Randell
My love poems for you,My beautiful soul mate,I will always offerWith extended hand andOpen heart.Passionate tender feelingsWashing over me as IWrite these words andDream of us together.How much you mean to me,Cannot be put in words,But I try nonetheless becauseMy love for you is endless.My love poems for youAre a reflection of yourInfinite beauty,Your amazing… Read more »“The Jailers and the Jailed” [by Tom Disch]
That will be the new two-tier social order with pharmaceuticals the unofficial currency distributed at the stadia and KFCs of the unfamilied. Think of New Orleans and multiply by n. The jailers will own their own vans and take vacations in the Yucatan and Guantanamo. They’ll know themselves to be a cut above the people… Read more »All My Love | Lucy Willis
All I haveIs all my loveFor you.Forever, always,From the bottom ofMy heart.A love so pure itReaches deep inside,To the places weOnly dream of,An ocean of feelings andDiscoveries about each other.You mean everything to me,My sweetest gift,I give in return,All my love to you. The post All My Love | Lucy Willis appeared first on Best… Read more »We’ll Be Together Forever | Theresa Killam
We’ll be together forever,Like the sun and moon,Night and day,The seasons and tides,Our hearts beatingAs one in a joyful universe.Let’s go together intoThe sunset andLive our dreams,Hopeful, joyful,In love for all time. The post We’ll Be Together Forever | Theresa Killam appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry Online“Overheard in the C-Suite” [by David Lehman]
Overheard in the C-Suite “I can’t find someoneto drive a garbage truckfor ninety-five thousand dollarsin Denverat the same time we’re up the wazoowith chirping MBAs you know round-faced cherubimlike Christmas tree decorationswilling to work for half thatif you can call it work.” 4/5/23 Related Stories Thirteen Sonnets from “Ithaca” [by David Lehman] Go… Read more »WEDNESDAYS WITH DENISE: April 5, 2023
Matthew Zapruder’s Story of a Poem: A Memoir was published yesterday by The Unnamed Press. Simply put, the book is a gift—to poets, to parents, to anyone concerned with the future of our planet and how we take care of each other. Zapruder offers us drafts of his poems along the way, letting us in… Read more »How Many Tear Drops? | Naduni
How many long nights Have perished on the single bed In the lonely room Sleepless and pensive Listening to the harsh Beat of the rain Unable to bear the cold How many tears have been shed Draining the white pillow On the old bed How many years have been spent Walking alone the lonely path… Read more »How Many Tear Drops? | Naduni
How many long nights Have perished on the single bed In the lonely room Sleepless and pensive Listening to the harsh Beat of the rain Unable to bear the cold How many tears have been shed Draining the white pillow On the old bed How many years have been spent Walking alone the lonely path… Read more »Shedding Skin | Naduni
I used to spend hours In front of the gilt mirror Watching you Gleaming, glittering With youth With love My skin! Quite narcissistic I was back then I engulfed in you I indulged in you My youthful skin! ‘Beauty is but skin deep’ Whoever told is very true… Now you are peeling off me You… Read more »Fitting the right energies instead of matching genres may not be an act of love and resistance but it works well [By Tracy Danison]
Fitting dance energies instead of styles and genres, “This is not ‘An act of love & resistance’”, Aina Alègre. Photo © Alice Brazzit Aina Alègre’s web bio says her choreography looks to re-imagine the body. But for me, a spectator of her choreography, she’s re-imagining dance. Her blazon reads “Every move that fits”. “Fits” is… Read more »Opening the Field: Editor’s Discussion, Spring 2023 | by Robert Eric Shoemaker
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationA Mother Tried and True | G. S. Katz
I flew down to see my Mom On her 90th birthday I didn’t tell her I was coming The look on her face was priceless when I walked through the door What to bring other than me was my dilemma I wanted something more lasting than a meaningless box of chocolates Maybe a stuffed animal… Read more »I’ll Never | Daniel Bogogolela
I used to think it was the best kept secret How could my younger brother be so insensitive? Almost everybody was beginning to forget. Bicycle! I wish there was no such a thing as that. My cousin tried to teach me how to ride it, Just after our late uncle’s funeral, On a farm during… Read more »
MESSIAEN, Olivier: From the Canyons to the Stars [by Lewis Saul]
MESSIAEN, Olivier (1908-1992) Des canyons aux étoiles (From the Canyons to the Stars) (1974) Part 1: 1. Le Désert (The desert) 2. Les orioles (The orioles) 3. Ce qui est écrit sur les étoiles (What is written in the stars) 4. Le Cossyphe d’Hueglin (The white-browed robin-chat) 5. Cedar Breaks et le don de crainte… Read more »The New York School Diaspora (Part Forty-Seven): Allan Peterson [by Angela Ball]
A HORSE REMEMBERS A horse remembers none of its ancestors heels ascending to splint bones and knows not its namesake in the sea It cannot see itself through history as I cannot me for my unknowns sunsets pulled down by their long gold wires my highest calling… Read more »I Breathe Heavy (Was It a Sigh?) | Anuradha Fonseka
Imagination you fed me Blind images I drank And breathed your words I lived unreal All gone now, I see well I breathe air and move myself With real food and Water I carry on my life You are past, let’s hope so We are done, not you and I anymore For your good and… Read more »My New Life | Naduni
Holding you in my arms Saw the world for the first time The warmth of the sun Is not unfamiliar It is this warm yellow Vision, unfamiliar Breathing heavily Like a big, grown up man Reclining on my breasts Big and tender Full of love for you The bloody bundle Has turned to an angel… Read more »Murmurations | by Nilufar Karimi
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationPhotograph the Moments | G. S. Katz
Acoustic folk rock band in the park Summer night, twilight then dusk Locals only, no tourists Free concert, perfect weather Our community, our brethren 90 minutes of perfection Taking it all in Grateful Knowing autumn is suddenly around the corner Breathe deep Catch the vibe Close your eyes Photograph the moments Save The post Photograph… Read more »The Tragedy of My Life | Anuradha Fonseka
Oh no…!! Not to accuse him I write this My story this is, the tragedy of my life I was in hell; I knew it when he showed The better beauty of life He took my hand and showed How fast the human heart can beat for another That magnetic and fiery thunder Produced when… Read more »Things I’ve Missed: Tim Seibles, Charles Simic & Peter Johnson [by Nin Andrews]
Maybe it’s just my age, maybe it’s the era we’re living in, but these last few years have been tough, and I’m not even thinking of covid or politics–I’m not even going to mention them. (Okay, I just did.) But suffice it to say, I’ve had a hard time keeping my nose above water. I… Read more »Natalie Shapero: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
_________________________________________________________ Sunshower Some people say the devil is beating his wife. Some people say the devil is pawing his wife. Some people say the devil is doubling down on an overall attitude of entitlement toward the body of his wife. Some… Read more »Hands | G. S. Katz
Holding hands with you Like ducks swimming in pairs Never far apart Love, devotion, unity The post Hands | G. S. Katz appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineTwo Tongues | P.K. Deb
For my effective expression, wonderful maybe but I possess a pair of tongues- one by birth and another by profession. Ever-active these are to simplify the jumbled lanes of my heart to other, yet unable to restrict a critical estimation, as these differ from each other so similar these are too to some extent. Different… Read more »Plural and Universal | Naduni
I was solid But you were fluid I was determined But you were undecided I was dedicated But you were preoccupied I was hopeful But you were existentialist I believed in you But you believed in none I wished for a child of you But you laughed at the very thought I yearned for stability… Read more »The Essence of My Spirit | Naduni
Among the people I met in my long drawn life Few could read me Still fewer could love me You are one of them Like the smell of a strong coffee In my working night A mere, floating thought of you Boosts up my spirits The cheer of my pleasure The tear of my fall… Read more »Thirteen Sonnets from “Ithaca” [by David Lehman]
from the Autumn 2022 issue of The Hudson Review: Happy as Ulysses is he who ventures forth, who leaves behind his idols and his homeland and mourns the loss of his mariners who were shamed like hogs under a witch’s spell or swallowed whole by a one-eyed colossus, and still he opposes the wind with… Read more »Poetry Month Freebies, Events & More! | by The Editors
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationHorizon | Nathy Dulanto Bernuy
On the horizon I could see Dreams become reality Souls drifting in the sea Looking for an opportunity Finding a ray of hope This feeling I was not looking for Waiting in this exhausted world I called to my thoughts Warmth in this soul felt The sadness in silence hummed A wounded heart beat All… Read more »How to Be a Good Friend | Kaleena Stroud
Be supportive. Remain close to the heart and keep close to the chest. Hold tight but don’t smother. Make an ex-lover stare. When in doubt, go nude. Never go to bed with one: you’ll always regret it in the morning. Don’t pretend or lose it when wasted. Finding a replacement isn’t easy. See also: “10… Read more »Frailty, Thy Name Is Man | Anuradha Fonseka
He loves me…He loves me not He loves me…He loves me not He loved me yesterday… Today he says he can’t He loves me but doesn’t let me love him I love him and love him more for loving me He loves me but hates me for loving him He loves me but hates me… Read more »Can’t Be Found | G. S. Katz
ANNOUNCEMENT: PLEASE TURN OFF ALL ELECTRONIC DEVICES In today’s world We live in 24/7 Communication A lot of it is text useless Though guilty myself When the instant communique Makes me smile I like when I am commanded To power down devices That joyous moment When I can’t be found I know what you’re thinking… Read more »WEDNESDAYS WITH DENISE: March 29, 2023
For today’s post I want to congratulate Dong Li on his first poetry book The Orange Tree, winner of the Phoenix Emerging Poet Book Prize, to be published by the University of Chicago Press on March 31. Through the title poem, we get a speaker who recounts a family story braided with the history of… Read more »“Diary Poem: Uses of Frank O’Hara” by Jennifer Maiden [Introduced by Thomas Moody]
“Chatty abstraction” is how Eileen Myles described the defining quality of New York School poetry in an essay in the Fall 2003 issue of Mississippi Review. “John Ashbery heard John Cage’s randomness of composition and was a fan of abstract expressionist painting and John Ashbery decided that we could do that in literature, too,” Myles… Read more »Radar | G. S. Katz
Flying under the radar Off course on purpose Blackened wings Off the grid If you want to find me There is no password But there is a code Remember what I told you My protectors are none My allies have faded My course is clear New frontiers await The post Radar | G. S. Katz… Read more »Lust and Love | G. S. Katz
I came to you with lust And ended up in love But the best part is I can still have both The post Lust and Love | G. S. Katz appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineSquibs 488-497: The Bar Mitzvah Boy and the Photographer [by Alan Ziegler ]
488: THE BOOK The great narrative and portrait photographer Paul Aniess died on May 13, 1970. There was a large decrease in the number of professional photographs taken on Long Island the morning of his funeral, as 100 cars driven by Paul’s colleagues joined the procession in Queens. Paul Aniess produced hundreds of photo books—each… Read more »Haircut 1972 | G. S. Katz
I was a long haired hippie freak back in the day But the parental units were hassling me all summer So to please them I went to the barber and chopped it all off A moment of pleasing and 12 months of regret Hair to a guy back then was his freak flag Defiance on… Read more »Haircut 1972 | G. S. Katz
I was a long haired hippie freak back in the day But the parental units were hassling me all summer So to please them I went to the barber and chopped it all off A moment of pleasing and 12 months of regret Hair to a guy back then was his freak flag Defiance on… Read more »My Dear Purple Flower Tree | Naduni
I didn’t know your name But I knew you were always there Shedding continuous purple Onto the green velvet carpet That kissed the lovers’ feet Being no lover myself I’ve never trodden any of your purple Sinews So, I believe I have never caused you any Pain I observed them, watched them morning and evening… Read more »Land Line | G. S. Katz
Land line, corded phone Clarity I can actually hear you Expensive to still own But totally worth it An iconic tie in To the past No signal fades Person to person A total keeper Land line My friend The post Land Line | G. S. Katz appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author:… Read more »Anger Is My Joy | G. S. Katz
When I’m ticked off You’ll know it Life is not LOL or smiley emoticons or this: 🙂 When you disrespect me I will be sincere In telling you To blow off Anger is my joy I use it to defuse Don’t say you weren’t warned Have I made myself clear? The post Anger Is My… Read more »Alliteration (Part III) | by Armen Davoudian
Go to Source Author: Poetry Foundation
Happy birthday, Robert Frost
Who said poetry makes nothing happen? — SDH Related Stories Maurice Manning: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch] Go to Source Author: The Best American Poetry
Anniversary of Walt Whitman’s Death [Terence Winch]
131 years ago today, Walt Whitman died at age 72. _______________________________________________________________________________________ Here is one of his most famous exhortations, from the preface to Leaves of Grass: “This is what you shall do; Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and… Read more »Confession | G. S. Katz
Yesterday Confessed to my beautiful wife of 24 years That I am a poet She had no idea Was blown away Told her how it came to be And read her a few examples of my madness It felt good to tell her I was living a lie Now she knows the real truth From… Read more »Good Night Luv | G. S. Katz
The day has been erased Washed and hung out to dry The only thing left is us So good night luv Sweet dreams See you in the morning Maybe a spoon or two before dawn The post Good Night Luv | G. S. Katz appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry… Read more »Friday, March 31, 2023, at 6:30 pm: An Evening with Terence Winch at the Arts Club of Washington [by Stacey Lehman]
Put this on your calendar and be there! Terence Winch, September, 2022. Photo by Tom Goodwin An Evening of Poetry By and With Terence Winch OPEN TO THE PUBLIC Friday, March 31, 2023, at 6:30 pm That Ship Has Sailed, Terence Winch’s ninth collection of poetry, synthesizes the serious and comic to address sex, love,… Read more »Triumph | Naduni
I see the softest eyes that ever were On the blue of the singing water And imagine you are here When I feel as if you are there In the blue of the soothing sky I feel you are here With me, around me Above me The blend of happiness, a tear in my eye… Read more »Triumph | Naduni
I see the softest eyes that ever were On the blue of the singing water And imagine you are here When I feel as if you are there In the blue of the soothing sky I feel you are here With me, around me Above me The blend of happiness, a tear in my eye… Read more »Road Salesman | G. S. Katz
people places personalities income different from month to month self starter smart phone email and text lots of stress trying to control what you can’t once you put the order in the takeaway after all these years people are people are people and bathrooms are harder to find than making the sale… The post Road… Read more »Two poems by Lee Upton from “The Day Every Day Is”
POLITICAL AMBITION A pig swallowing an entire apple tree then sleeping under covers Politics must be hard You can’t step into the same politics twice I take off my boots When I try to put them back on they won’t let me Politics is wearing them now Politics can always step into a victim twice… Read more »Maybe God Is A Cat | Daniel Klawitter
“In 1911, the little town of Nakhla in Egypt was the scene of one of the most remarkable events in history: a chunk of rock (later discovered to be a piece of the planet Mars) fell from the sky and killed a dog,the only known canine fatality caused by a cosmic object.” –Paul Davies, The… Read more »Short and Sweet | G. S. Katz
You have my back l have yours Your love never was for sale Money can’t buy you Grace and dignity Your smile worth millions I’m the richest man going From the day I met you The post Short and Sweet | G. S. Katz appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry… Read more »Willis Reed, Legendary Center of the World Champion N. Y. Knicks, RIP [by Stacey Harwood-Lehman]
Basketball great Willis Reed spoke about his literacy project. David was eager to get his predictions for the upcoming Knicks season. In 2003, then chairman of the NEA Dana Gioia, invited David to join him in Washington for the annual Washington Book Festival, hosted by Laura Bush. It was a great event. Dana had even… Read more »
WEDNESDAYS WITH DENISE: March 22, 2023
Did you ever wonder who your favorite poet would be if she weren’t a poet? A rock star maybe? Here’s Anne Waldman (part Debra Harry and part Madonna) in a music video from 1982! I first heard about this on my favorite podcast Breaking Form (hosted by James Allen Hall and Aaron Smith) and now… Read more »The Lover of Beauty | Lambon Salifu Muhammeed
Love me not because of my beauty, For beauty is a mortal! Mine will fade off your sight if a new beautiful is discovered. Love me because I’m your breath and soul. If you love me because of my beauty, you truly do not love me. You are just a lover of beauty! The post… Read more »The Lost Cause Of The Progenial Mundane | Richard William Kirkpatrick-Thorne
The Lost Son Burned For Hundreds Of Kilometers, An Only Engine ACross The Spark-Jetting Track, Silver-Bullet Cometing On InterContinental Iron, UnDieing Steel Smashing InTo The Thin Air Shields Of Buffoons… … Those Gods Armed With Blowing Horns And UnUberance Universal, Some Drifting On Prairie Fumes And Trade Winds, Latching UpOn The Wild Grasses By The… Read more »
“It Might As Well Be Spring” [with Dick Haymes in 1972]
Related Stories She Got Pinched in the Assss. . . tor Bar! [by Stacey Harwood] Go to Source Author: The Best American PoetryThe New York School Diaspora (Part Forty-Six): Dorothea Lasky [by Angela Ball]
The Ballet The dancers In a terribly bright Light blue gauze Retained the mystery Skating on a lake Blue and ice An illusionary time Where poetry feels inevitable The terrific clown Who lies inside Every blue dress Does he see me Always a star Always a root Horrible auras At the door But no… Read more »Ugh | G. S. Katz
Ugh Lately, the universal term for bad is Ugh If it’s not good It’s Ugh We are reducing ourselves To cave person speak In a word Ugh… The post Ugh | G. S. Katz appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineFree Matadors | P.K. Deb
Be careful, the silent matadors are approaching again Succeeding a suffocating life of long captivity. They are ruinous and free of moral chain, Hence, invincible to invade our sensibility. Responsible they are, for wars and blood-shedding, Capable of mincing integrity in a moment, Compelling us to bow down to their heartless lading And their freedom… Read more »
Steve Reich: The Cave [by Lewis Saul]
REICH, Steve (1936- ) The Cave (1993) The Steve Reich Ensemble Paul Hillier, cond. (1:43:29) The Cave is a multimedia opera in three acts with a libretto by Reich’s wife, Beryl Korot. The Cave of the Patriarchs in Hebron This is a sacred place where Muslims, Jews and Christians pray. The music and… Read more »Steve Reich: The Cave [by Lewis Saul]
REICH, Steve (1936- ) The Cave (1993) The Steve Reich Ensemble Paul Hillier, cond. (1:43:29) The Cave is a multimedia opera in three acts with a libretto by Reich’s wife, Beryl Korot. The Cave of the Patriarchs in Hebron This is a sacred place where Muslims, Jews and Christians pray. The music and… Read more »Why everything is going to be OK. [by Jennifer Michael Hecht]
Dear Bleaders, I’m supposed to be cleaning! I was given a specific task: straighten up the kid’s bookshelves for Jessie’s birthday party this weekend. But then my husband, who suggested this task, took the kids and went to Goodwill to get rid of some of the heaps of stuff of which we’re getting rid, leaving… Read more »Imploding Voices Warn | Jacob Erin-Cilberto
the New York boy found his country falling in upon itself like an earthquake stricken high rise the empire state’s enigma shaken to his core as the mountains disappeared and the water tasted stagnant the Midwest called his name as he spit out foul liquid from his beleaguered brain when pastures diluted themselves and he… Read more »Calico 1303 oceloT | Richard William Kirkpatrick-Thorne
UpOn That Rocky Crag, On High With The Founding Ghosts Of Marshes… Once To Be As Kings, With Questions Travelling Across The Dire Breaking, Where No Copper Could Be Thrown Up To Cover, At Times To Eclipse And Quicken, The RestLess Paramount AFlame… Then To Be As Rover… … Treading CoastLines And Then To LaundryLines,… Read more »Joanna Fuhrman: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
_______________________________________________________ The Poetry Reading The mustached cowboy-hatted thrice-divorced old-man poet famous for sleeping with flaxen-haired (or was it flax-seed eating) quote-unquote nubile graduate students is at the podium reading his poem personifying a wedding dress— how sad it is, all alone in… Read more »That Single Fleeting Moment* | by Karthika Naïr
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationRhyme | G. S. Katz
I don’t know I don’t like to read Poems that rhyme It’s kind of a cop out A gimmick That sing song sludge You call your verse Take some time And do it right The post Rhyme | G. S. Katz appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineZen | Michael Walter
What would the present be, stripped of this building, this person, this winter’s day? More at https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/MichaelWalter. The post Zen | Michael Walter appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry Online“Saturday” [by Mark Ford]
After bursting through the allusion-barrier so dramatically, as related on Thursday [Oct. 16, 2008], there has been no stopping me, and I would like to conclude my very enjoyable stint as your guest-blogger with a poem in a genre my young self would have despised, ie. the poem about another poet –- which, come to… Read more »Time | Naduni
When I first saw your Sensual eyes The copper of the sunset I found the warmth And assurance I was looking for I found a safe haven in those eyes How much I loved those copper colored eyes That penetrated my soul And kept me awake at night The eternal passion Soft yet strong The… Read more »Filling Up of Heart | P.K. Deb
The filling was begun by the ancestors But couldn’t, so couldn’t bloom A smile, full of colours and fragrance And at last they got lost un-smiled. The pages of history get added and added, Civilization is lifted up and up, Ashes are turned into gold With the magical touch of knowledge And reason becomes the… Read more »Yehuda Amichai, From an interview with Lawrence Joseph (1992) and a Poem (“Memorial Day for the War Dead”)
Lawrence Joseph interviewed the Israeli poet Yehuda Amichai for The Paris Review, Spring 1992. Amichai was born in Germany in 1924. With his family he fled from Hitler in 1936, emigrating to Palestine with his orthodox Jewish family. He fought form the British in World War II, for the Haganah uderground in 1948, and for… Read more »Winter Light New York City | G. S. Katz
quiet streets walking my dog neighbors nodding “good morning” newspapers on the stoop wet leaves coffee brewing sun breaking through cascading between buildings perfect winter air crisp and inviting the day awaits you all the promise make it happen… The post Winter Light New York City | G. S. Katz appeared first on Best Poetry…. Read more »Ignored | Nathy Dulanto Bernuy
Why is it so hard to smile Always over thinking is not right I need you by my side All feels so sad Everything is meaningless Without you all is boring I feel so ignored Not having you around Now that you’re gone I feel so lost Trying to keep myself busy Is not helping… Read more »Applications Now Open for Summer Poetry Teachers Institute |
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationCrocus & Daffodil welcome you to Clare College
What you see when you approach the gate at Clare College, Cambridge, in March: The vew of the bridge and the old court in the near greern future: Related Stories Columbia To Host Richard Howard Tribute March 31st Go to Source Author: The Best American PoetryThe Ride Out Saturday | Mark Butler
The night before our trip I dream again of Syrian women bending to kiss the dry lips of their dead children. At noon we roll along the turnpike riding the ridges and valleys under a brittle blue, fleeced with white trailing to the south. At five, we pick our way through the gray towns east… Read more »Ambiguity | Naduni
What is it that you hold for me? So tender yet so passionate, So sensitive yet so ferocious, So loving and caring and arousing. Do your eyes gleam with desire? Or wet with affection When you hold this flower to me? Who ARE you, above all? Are you an angel Bringing eternal love and Warmth… Read more »“The Other Sestina” [by Janice Erlbaum]
Janice Erlbaum participated in the group reading we did for “The Best American Erotic Poems” at KGB Bar on March 10. 2008. She read her sestina (“The Temp”) from the book, but time constraints stopped her from reading a second sestina, which she has posted on her own blog and which you will find below,… Read more »Happy Birthday Ern Malley! [With an introduction by Thomas Moody taken from David Lehman]
Yesterday marked the 105th birthday of Ern Malley, who remains one of Australia’s most internationally renowned poets and our greatest ever literary hoax. After I disclosed that I am an Australian in our first ever email exchange, David immediately wanted to know where I stood on the whole Malley affair. While the hoax overall has… Read more »Retaliation | P.K. Deb
Amazingly, the ball is flying back to me, my protruded eyes witness its dreadful spinning and speed; and the haughty heart shrinks and realises a ruinous sequence is to be ensued. A few moments back… my high-strung racket stroked the ball and posted it to the inaccessible address of the rival. As over-powered I was… Read more »Connection | G. S. Katz
like gloves that fit perfectly two eggs sunny side up finishing your sentences Connection bumps in the road using humor to defuse knowing it’s temporary Connection answers without questions a sip of your coffee the road is long Connection karma skin imperfection Connection… The post Connection | G. S. Katz appeared first on Best Poetry…. Read more »I Love Me, Vol. I [by Lewis Saul]
I LOVE ME, VOL. I Pull up. Was it a hat I saw? No, it is open on one position. Are we not drawn onwards, we Jews, drawn onward to new era? Do not refer to Nod … Lew, Otto has a hot towel. Cigar? Toss it in a can, it is so… Read more »Things I Did for You | Abby Kloppenburg
You said you loved music, so I spent my money on CDs, stole my Dad’s guitar and brought up Pure Prairie League every chance I got. I scribbled lyrics on my fingers, and concert dates on my mirror. You said you loved America, so I hummed the National Anthem, wrapped my hair in a striped… Read more »Windows of My Past | Joseph Romano
There’s a wonderful world I found at last. When I look into the windows of my precious past. These windows pass me one by one. And I look in to each to see the wonderful past things I’ve done. A feeling of comfort soon soothes my fears. As I see all the happy things I’ve… Read more »Columbia To Host Richard Howard Tribute March 31st
David Alexander >>> Note: Miller Theatre is asking that people who want to attend make a reservation. Here is the official announcement with a link for reserving: https://www.millertheatre.com/events/a-tribute-to-richard-howard Richard picked the poems for The Best American Poetry1995. It was wonderful to work with him. –– DL Related Stories The Year… Read more »Columbia To Host Richard Howard Tribute March 31st
David Alexander >>> Note: Miller Theatre is asking that people who want to attend make a reservation. Here is the official announcement with a link for reserving: https://www.millertheatre.com/events/a-tribute-to-richard-howard Richard picked the poems for The Best American Poetry1995. It was wonderful to work with him. –– DL Related Stories The Year… Read more »The Year Kay Ryan Went to AWP (To Cover It): 4 Excerpts
A few excerpts from Kay Ryan’s “I Go To AWP” (written for Poetry, in 2005, the year AWP was in Vancouver) Simone Weil would have starved herself to death before she would have gone to AWP. Another Fear I have a weak character. I am very susceptible to other people’s enthusiasms, at times actually courting… Read more »On Me | Lambon Salifu Muhammeed
Doubt not, she worth than nature Arena of beauty, thy love I seek Lie here with me forever On thy bosom, perish my loveache Let rain on me thy magic An immortal, not dust grown The post On Me | Lambon Salifu Muhammeed appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineAnd Took My Breath Away… | G. S. Katz
it’s a quiet walk down a dark street a dim light glowing in your bedroom you took my hand you looked into my eyes you laid me down and took my breath away… The post And Took My Breath Away… | G. S. Katz appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry… Read more »The Year Kay Ryan Went to ASWP (To Cover It): 4 Excerpts
A few excerpts from Kay Ryan’s “I Go To AWP” (written for Poetry, in 2005, the year AWP was in Vancouver) Simone Weil would have starved herself to death before she would have gone to AWP. Another Fear I have a weak character. I am very susceptible to other people’s enthusiasms, at times actually courting… Read more »Lawrence Raab: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
________________________________________________________________ Original Sin That was one idea my mother always disliked. She preferred her god to be reasonable, like Emerson or Thoreau without their stranger moments. Even the Old Testament God’s sudden angers and twisted ways of getting what he wanted she… Read more »Electric Shepherd | Billy JnoHope
Future hack love in the machine age We dream of android dreaming where cyber breath actually hisses Ego future disconnect non tactile response Phantom heart beating in the matrix soul Code the dystopian template suffer the electric shepherd to be crucified The post Electric Shepherd | Billy JnoHope appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to… Read more »Raw | G. S. Katz
need you to show me your body you need to dress up for me and then strip down to nothing I am your audience I am your voyeur I know the darkness and the light you need to do this for me I need you to expose your being before me for me I am… Read more »Squibs 486-487: Charles Simic [by Alan Ziegler]
486: Charles Simic Was Generous to Children On Memorial Day 1979, my ten-year-old nephew, Craig Luchen, was kicking around a soccer ball in his backyard during a family gathering. Craig was ahead of the curve in his soccer devotion (long before “soccer moms”), and had yet to meld with the piano, so we didn’t have a… Read more »Slow down, and put on your “Panama Hat”: Major Jackson’s Pick for March 10
I’m Major Jackson, and this is The Slowdown. After I finished my MFA at University of Oregon, I packed up my worldly possessions (some clothes, a lotta books) in my beat-up minivan and was off to New Orleans. A week prior I was called with an offer to teach at Xavier University, an HBCU there. The… Read more »Mary Jo Salter on W. H. Auden (& more) in the new “Literary Matters”
Mary Jo Salter on W. H. Auden in Literary Matters What is the secret meaning of the last line of “Epitaph on a Tyrant”: “And when he cried, the little children died in the street”? To what extent does “New Year Letter” owe its greatness to Auden’s mastery of the tetrameter line? David Lehman thinks… Read more »Rebozo [by Mitch Sisskind]
Herman Fishman asked, “How can “I know if my wife is possessed “By Lilith in our conjugal bed?” Julius Jaffe said, “If a wife refuses “To lie beneath her husband, feh! “She has been possessed by Lilith.” He continued, “A man and his wife “Need a secret word like rebozo “Whereby to recognize… Read more »Resurrection | Christine Emmert
The elephant ears are ready to listen, unrolling more each day to bird’s insistent call. The grapes promise they will come once the rain is dried off in summer’s slow warmth. Again my garden grows. Poppies give way to day lilies and then a profusion of blossoms less exclusive. Busy insects mark off the seconds… Read more »To Whom It May Concern | Jasmina Tacheva
I thought I knew the (b)order(s) the same routine each day & then you came a metal rod in the heart of this illusion you brought the deadly mechanism to a stop your atonality is so seductive- like schoenberg or matisse you despise the fake harmony of life- you- the disruptor of (b)order(s) I hope… Read more »“Lesbian Corn” [by Elaine Equi]
Lesbian Corn In summerI strip awayyour pale kimono.Your tousled hair too,comes off in my handsleaving youcompletely naked.All ears andtiny yellow teeth. — Elaine Equi from the archive; fiurst posted October 1, 2008 Related Stories “The Publisher of Heaven” [by Ron Padgett] Go to Source Author: The Best American PoetryHow is Rebecca Journo’s “Portrait” like the proverbial hedgehog? It does tricks that count [By Tracy Danison]
“Portrait” by Rebecca Journo. Photo © Courtesy Collectif La Pieuvre Not too terribly long ago, for my getting-ready-for-bed tirade, I was telling my partner that dance performance creators don’t pay enough attention to the effect they make on spectators. “I’m telling you, Karine,” I muttered, “They waste their time on their same-old same-old stories and… Read more »Wave of Intimacy | G. S. Katz
When I look at your mouth I try to picture my lips on yours An exquisite tongue dance All of our longing colliding in a wave of intimacy Holding you close knowing our moments are brief An erotic coupling for those who dared… The post Wave of Intimacy | G. S. Katz appeared first on… Read more »Life | Luis Santana
Trapped in the spectrum of doubts prism Cast upon the ocean of confusion Grasping for the shores of reason Only to find the the barren landscape or reality Sitting there wet realizing From reason and reality come ideas Leading to doubt and confusion Stranded in the viscous cycle of thought The post Life | Luis… Read more »WEDNESDAYS WITH DENISE: March 8, 2023
For today’s post, I offer you two stunning epistolary poems—Matthew Olzmann’s and David Hernandez’s poems seem to sing to one another: Letter to Someone Living Fifty Years from Now Most likely, you think we hated the elephant, the golden toad, the thylacine and all variations of whale harpooned or hacked into extinction. It… Read more »Definitive, Unsure, Maybe | G. S. Katz
definitive unsure maybe god bless you if you believe bless you if you don’t paper or plastic? The post Definitive, Unsure, Maybe | G. S. Katz appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineI and Me | Roy K. Austin
I am a neighbour with open gate, me is a glutton not pulling his weight, I am high like a drifting cloud, me down below has the mind of the crowd filtering, straining, tangled in knots, while I like a kite am free from the lot, me is the cause of each scattering part, I… Read more »Wednesday [by Mark Ford]
It was announced on the radio this morning [Wednesday, October 15, 2008] that the British Library has paid half a million pounds for a collection of the manuscripts of Ted Hughes. Hughes was a great believer in the importance of writing with a pen, rather than on a keyboard, and I remember a late letter… Read more »Were it given to all to see into the heart of each! Pierre Pontvianne’s Motifs [By Tracy Danison]
Partner dance, the true illusion of being together. “Motifs” by Pierre Pontivianne. Photo © Lena Pinon Lang Motif usually means “intention or motive”. For Pierre Pontvianne, I think, the word carries the connotation as well of “recurring pattern” or maybe “recurring sense”. However the title may play, the Motifs stage is a wide-open, squared-off, white… Read more »The New York School Diaspora (Part Forty-Five) Matthew Yeager [by Angela Ball]
The Ongoing Lamentation of Anna Nicole Smith “You have a beautiful face Mr. Gray. Don’t frown.” – Wilde ….Right now, for instance, there’s my terrycloth robe, the walls, the curtains, the carpet, my slippers, and the sofa. Six pink things. Six pink things I can see. There’s also the mirror I like, with the real… Read more »Autumn in Georgia | C.J. Hemsley
It’s autumn in Georgia, and nature’s death, has never looked more beautiful. The hills roll away like sleeping lions. The untamed splendor of dying leaves is strangely magical. As God paints the mountains in primary colors, they bleed into one another, Creating rust-colored mountain ranges with ice capped peaks. It’s autumn in Georgia, and nature’s… Read more »In the Rags of a Servant | C.J. Hemsley
He spoke to me: “As I walk the land, Submerged in thought, I hear the footsteps of my ancestors, conquering the darkness with their small candles. Their once extant spirits have crossed-over: moonlighting as heralds from another world, riding the winds, praying I breath in their ceaseless energy, So their good can emanate through me… Read more »In Her Footsteps: Editor’s Discussion, March 2023 | by Robert Eric Shoemaker
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationThe ONE | Neha Raithatha
With Time and Again We gain Life that teaches Could be itchy Lessons are learnt Hearts that were burnt With Years to come People have gone Love that calls Is never recalled Waiting that is Sounds humor Destination change With age Breath taken Is pain to return Numbness Now that is Smelling the freedom Emotions… Read more »Without Belle | E.C. Vento
If I stay right here and don’t look outside… shut off the phone and pull down the blinds… there would be no day and there would be no night… the world would not exist… and if the world does not exist… then there is no you or kiss to miss. The post Without Belle |… Read more »Leah Umansky: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
______________________________________________________ In My Next Life, I Want to Be an Ad Man I want to be donned in somehow. Donned in everything. Donned in the forgotten and the ecclesiastics of sex. Drape me in the charged. Drape me… Read more »We Have Not Forgotten | Roy Pullam
It is ten years The tears have dried But our poor hearts Have not found Their mend So many memories Captured In the black crepe Of your loss Still slip back In a moment Of ease Reminding us Of how bright Your star blazed And how We miss the light The post We Have Not… Read more »The Cast | Roy Pullam
He hocked up hate And spit it In the direction Of the two gay men Pressing his point With the authority Of the Bible Promised damnation The cold lesson Of Leviticus Old testament righteousness That made them less That gave him authority To lend judgment To play God And I Was not so prepared To… Read more »“The Publisher of Heaven” [by Ron Padgett]
The Publisher of Heaven I looked at my leg and became a publisher. The day was bright with my leg. The trees laughed quietly, the wind shifting their leaves this way and that, in unison, each one a good example of a leaf. There is a halo in search of each of us, but we… Read more »The Game | Roy Pullam
Time is a card shark Stealing the chips of youth Pilfering our ambitions Bending our backs And our will Playing with sleight of hand Where the aces Are palmed Leaving the deck Full of simply survival cards But we all Have to play Taking what Is dealt Just hoping for a trump That will Lengthen… Read more »New Year’s Resolutions | G. S. Katz
I don’t make them They just become fragile and break I’ll just continue on Maybe we’ll meet for whiskey or tea Or both Perhaps a meat pie at the pub I gave up eating red meat mostly Those meat pies though I’m never quite sure what kind of meat is in there Could be tofu… Read more »A Kick in the Ass (by Mitch Sisskind)
When somebody went to prison He’d say they went to college or If somebody was sick he’d say They had the sniffles regardless 0f the cancer raging or whatever They had the sniffles, he said. If somebody fucked up he’d say The guy needed a kick in the ass And because people were always… Read more »“That Ship Has Sailed” by Terence Winch [by Stacey Harwood Lehman]
Terence Winch’s That Ship Has Sailed (University of Pittsburgh Press) arrived last week, and reading it has given me many pleasurable hours. Here is “Father,” a favorite poem that in a few brief lines conjures an entire life: Father I have your cuff links and tie clips. I have a box with your IDs in… Read more »It Gets Old | J.K. Durick
I linger less now, but pause quite often I know I have been here before Time has taught me that much at least Things play out again, the outcome the same I’m watching the first snow and know What’s next – the driveway, the walkway I once could play in it, would get my sled… Read more »Looking Within | Daniel Miltz
What I always turn to For inspiration or energy When I am downcast Or in need of invigorating karma With knowledgeable answers hurrah Swarm my medulla oblongata The post Looking Within | Daniel Miltz appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineSonnet of a Night Owl | Daniel McGee
I know so well the warmth of cold moonlight, For night is home to all keen thought, blissfully unmaligned. Helios holds no sway with me, his journey out of sight, Selene, my muse, guides my sweet nocturnal mind. Supine, I float, and watch my ethereal phosphenes fly, Till epiphany alights and I feverishly spring to… Read more »From Sundial to Stopwatch | Roy Pullam
The curtain is closing On future planning The uncertainty of age Is like a vulture Waiting on a fence pole I must deal With life In chapters A book is too long And I might not Finish it I look back When time Was a burden When I thought In years Plotting goals The calendar… Read more »“Fe” by Sarah Day [Introduced by Thomas Moody]
Sarah Day is the author of nine volumes of poetry, including Tempo (2013) shortlisted for The Prime Minister’s Literary Awards, The Ship (2004) winner of the Judith Wright Calanthe Queensland Premier’s Award for Poetry and joint winner of the Judith Wright Prize ACT National Poetry Awards, and most recently Slack Tide (2022). A former editor… Read more »“Fe” by Sarah Day [Introduced by Thomas Moody]
Sarah Day is the author of nine volumes of poetry, including Tempo (2013) shortlisted for The Prime Minister’s Literary Awards, The Ship (2004) winner of the Judith Wright Calanthe Queensland Premier’s Award for Poetry and joint winner of the Judith Wright Prize ACT National Poetry Awards, and most recently Slack Tide (2022). A former editor… Read more »WEDNESDAYS WITH DENISE: March 1, 2023
Patricia Smith’s latest poetry book Unshuttered was published on Feb 15. Starting twenty years ago at a Connecticut flea market, Smith collected more than 200 photographs of African Americans, each image between 120 and 180 years old. She uses the photographs (cabinet cards, cartes de visite, abrotypes, daguerreotypes, and tintypes) as points of departure, giving… Read more »Golden Days | Roy Pullam
There is a mint In my front yard The rich gold Banked Beneath the sugar maple I feel wealthy The beauty So grand That passersby Slow to take In the sight It is the blessing Of fall When nature Gives its final gift Before it Brings on death The exposed skeletons Of the trees The… Read more »I Am the Sun | Zachary Koplan
“I will hang up on you if you keep breathing like that,” I interrupted you, as you complained that you can’t stop eating candy for breakfast and salad for dinner. Other times, I wished that I believed in energy, or felt sad because I know, one day, people will look at my brother and say,… Read more »Cri de Coeur [by Jim Cummins]
Oy vey, my country! I would sob if it weren’t such … an American crisis: goofy, headstrong, distracted, with a bunch of old men in dark suits running around looking for their mommies. And we’re poets: what do WE know? — Jim Cummins from the archive; first posted October 3, 2008 Related Stories Auden… Read more »Cri de Coeur [by Jim Cummins]
Oy vey, my country! I would sob if it weren’t such … an American crisis: goofy, headstrong, distracted, with a bunch of old men in dark suits running around looking for their mommies. And we’re poets: what do WE know? — Jim Cummins from the archive; first posted October 3, 2008 Related Stories Auden… Read more »Who Will Stop the Mad Man? [by Lera Auerbach]
My mother was born in 1940 to a Jewish family in Dnepropetrovsk, Ukraine. As Hitler’s army marched East in 1941, my grandparents abandoned all their possessions (including their beloved library and cherished collection of musical instruments). They boarded the train – heading towards Siberia. The news of ghettos and the fate of Jews in Hitler’s… Read more »Providence 1945 | Roy Pullam
A black cloud Hung over my birth home No doctor available The skills of a neighbor woman Spare but effective Another mouth Added to four He had trouble feeding A broken down miner His back In a corset In the other bed My birth cry Matched by The desperate longing Of my mother 2:30 did… Read more »Dopamine | Gordie Dnably
Watery damson bulbs and moons, Birthing hairy excuses or muses. Forgoing every limit set by mourners. Perpetuating reform. Braised lilac orbs and moons, Yielding excuses or apologies. Siphoning reaction from laborers. Boosting oases and stamina. Devilish… bluish… ovallish… crystal, Erecting poor lattices for unwary creepers. Accepting devotion and denying its teeth. Fostering opuses then gradually… Read more »“Permanently” [by Kenneth Koch, born today]
Permanently, by Kenneth Koch One day the Nouns were clustered in the street. An Adjective walked by, with her dark beauty. The Nouns were struck, moved, changed. The next day a Verb drove up, and created the Sentence. Each Sentence says one thing—for example, “Although it was a dark rainy day when … Read more »Dawn Comes in the Berry Patch | Roy Pullam
She shook me awake It was still dark I could smell the biscuits Baking in the oven Of the coal stove Dad sat at the table His mug in his hand Mother made sandwiches We ate in haste Taking our buckets We hoped to get At the briar patch Right at dawn Dad had found… Read more »The First Death | Roy Pullam
I did not know cancer The mystery More than my 6 year old mind Could grasp Just that my playmate My cousin Was in a little white coffin In the middle Of the living room Of her house My mother Held my hand As I saw Mary last Her little white dress Her hair in… Read more »Alliteration (Part II) | by Armen Davoudian
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationRoger Reeves: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
________________________________________________________ Cyclops and Balthazar I was not a very good dog in my former life. I bit My owner, James, often. When he prayed, I howled His one eye opening. He said I sounded like a cyclops… Read more »Fruitcakes | Roy Pullam
We raked the leaves With our shoes Like children On Easter The same zeal For finding treasures Pecans in twos and threes Where they fell Beneath the brown An angry squirrel Barked his disdain From the top Of the tree We made search circles Making sure We covered the circumference Of the tree Gathering the… Read more »Travelling Light | Paul Tristram
Slender is the night when you are tightrope walking the ‘Straight and Narrow’ as a means of escape. The Past is snapping at your ankles as you stuff your pockets deep with items reserved strictly for future use. Memories, photographs, the jaded parts of yesteryear are cast swiftly and (Finally) unemotionally into the small, cleansing… Read more »“Invited to Life: Finding Hope After the Holocaust” [by B. A. Van Sise]
Related Stories “The Wild Bunch”: Last of the Great Westerns [by David Lehman] Go to Source Author: The Best American Poetry
Something very much like love: Sylvère Lamotte and Magali Saby dance “la faille” [By Tracy Danison]
Sylvère Lamotte, Magali Saby, “Danser la Faille”. Photo © Caroline Jaubert I am still bowled over by the experience of Danser la faille, Sylvère Lamotte and Magali Saby’s conference dansée(“dance commentary”). When Saby, whose mobility is severely impaired by myositis, a motor-neuron condition, and choreographer Sylvère Lamotte dance together it is … well … divine… Read more »“The Wild Bunch”: Last of the Great Westerns [by David Lehman]
My latest “Talking Pictures” column for The American Scholar (February 23, 2023) is titled “Brilliant Carnage: Sam Peckinpah’s slow-motion bullet ballet” I have seen The Wild Bunch, Sam Peckinpah’s 1969 masterpiece, many times. The film marks the definitive end of the truly Western Western, a farewell to the time when desperadoes played poker in frontier saloons,… Read more »My Sons | J.K. Durick
1. The Older We build a place, a common ground for us to use to energize the topics we need to keep the talk going. There’s a distance we must travel each time. It frightens me — the distance seems greater each time. 2. The Younger And finally, he’s learning to be patient: he smiles,… Read more »Your Breadcrumbs… | Paul Tristram
Your Breadcrumbs… Led me nowhere nice or pleasant… but, there Is wisdom in this, for I never walk down the same dead end, twice. Once free of your demented, inane circles everything levelled out quite quickly. You have to tear off a strip of flesh from the walls of your soul every now and again,… Read more »Let’s | Jashanpreet Kaur
We should write a song A song about these lost souls A song about the shattered hope A song about these guarded hearts A song about their forced courage But no one wants to hear sad songs So let’s write poetry instead. So let’s write About a boy A little nothing Who ran from his… Read more »Summer 1957 | Roy Pullam
Barker Hill Had a thunderstorm Dynamite jarring the ground Knocking the bottom From Uncle Ed’s well Turning the mortar In his chimney Into dust The roar of the big trucks Night and day Hauling locally To Hart’s tipple It was his home His refuge From the people At the base Of the hill But they… Read more »In Defense of Intellectual Labor | Daniel Klawitter
It begins innocently enough With a wondering. With a however hung On a what if. With a maybe Married to a possibility Not yet exposed Or explored. Sure, there are answers— Some of them are even Convincing. What is deplorable Is thinking the obvious Is obvious Just for existing. It requires Some agility— Some frisky… Read more »On Quicksand | Roy Pullam
I hid In the shadow Of my blemished youth Unable To determine What I should be What would Get me the acceptance I so longed for Bending with the wind In order To find my way In the flood Of adolescence Seeking to defy radar Be a ghost That came and went With whatever fad… Read more »Happy birthday, W H. Auden
Their Lonely Betters As I listened from a beach-chair in the shade To all the noises that my garden made, It seemed to me only proper that words Should be withheld from vegetables and birds. A robin with no Christian name ran through The Robin-Anthem which was all it knew, And rustling flowers for some… Read more »Auden (an Aquarius, born Feb 21) on Psychoanalysis
Psychoanalysis, like all pagan scientia, says: “Come, my good man, no wonder you feel guilty. You have a distorting mirror, and that is indeed a very wicked thing to have. But cheer up, For a trifling consideration I shall be delighted to straighten it out for you. There. Look. A perfect image. The evil of… Read more »Master of the Wheel | Roy Pullam
Throwing mud Making a being From the clay The essential element Of the earth Shaping with molding hands A vision Others cannot see Until it is done It is a lonely world The artist vision That sees beyond 20/20 The wheels turning Both in the head And with the manipulation The earth showing Its resistance… Read more »ATM Life | G. S. Katz
Manhattan New York City It’s not a Zen zone It’s a money machine ATM life You gotta make a lot of it Just to stay average Yet there is a beauty in that It’s a flesh on flesh town Intermingling of the masses Nobody knows who’s got what The gardeners work on rooftops My lawn… Read more »“Coming Soon to a Screen Near You” [by Tom Disch]
The soul has its own entertainment industry as complex as Hollywood’s, with premieres scheduled every night of the week. The papparazzi have been popping their flashbulbs since before your first erection. Rival producers vie to cast Ingrid Bergman as the nun who proved her love for you by teaching you arithmetic. But ah! it… Read more »Behind the Bandages (She’s Feeling Pretty Spread Thin!) | Paul Tristram
The burning and stinging is excruciating just before fresh injections. But, they’ve chiselled a new face out of the battle-scarred ‘Picture Of Dorian Grey’ that crawled from the wreckage and ruin of three Armada divorces, which would have slain a woman with half her constitution, twice over. Her soul’s on autopilot as the medication hums… Read more »Give Me Free Verse | JD DeHart
Don’t chain me to rhyme or metrical expectations, let words fall where they may This is not a problem but process statement stacked One of play because if adults can’t play with words, well then Where can they play? The post Give Me Free Verse | JD DeHart appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to… Read more »A World in Syllables | by Karthika Naïr
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationEliot of Becket (Thomas a) and Beckett (Samuel)
And yet it is useless not to seek, not to want, for when you cease to seek you start to find, and when you cease to want, then life begins to ram her fish and chips down your gullet until you puke, and then the puke down your gullet until you puke the puke, and… Read more »Sarah Arvio: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
_____________________________________________________________ Sponge Soul like a dirty sponge that soaked up all the dark bits from yours all messed up and mixed in with the dirt of the days the old hairs and hatefulness Oh my god I knew there was… Read more »Without You I Am Everything | Paul Tristram
Boundary walls and prison fences crumbled down and fell apart. The Gothic Chapel which was forever preaching ‘Doom’ and ‘Gloom’ and its ‘Woe, Woe & Thrice Woe’ took down its dusty old, heavy curtains and opened up the stained-glass windows for a Spring-clean jumble sale. I noticed beautiful, multi-coloured wild flowers popping up everywhere in… Read more »Talking out Loud | G. S. Katz
I went off booze for a little while Clarity was okay I prefer boozing though Not like the old days When getting drunk was a given This is more of a social thing Meet a friend for a few beers at happy hour Seeing more and more geezers like me there NYC is like London… Read more »Three Clerihews [by Jim Cummins] (& 3 by someone else)
Sporting Life Wilt Chamberlaindiscovered sinrequired a logto log them in. * Pete Rose, brother,by any othermoniker would stink,is what I think. * Joe DiMagruled like the Raj.But when he passed,they capped his ass. Related Stories A Great Larkin Story (Not Mine) [by Jim Cummins] Go to Source Author: The Best American PoetryNowhere Near the Bottom | Paul Tristram
‘It’s taken me years to get this far’ she thought to herself, as she stopped upon a thin, narrow shelf. Just over two-thirds up the darkened pit she had naively let herself drop into. ‘The Falling’ had seemed to take forever, there had been a ‘Splash’ followed by a ‘Crunch’ Scars had formed and broken… Read more »Emotional Hiatus | Paul Tristram
She’s laying upon a sun lounger within the shadows of the back garden. Trying to ignore the silly songbirds singing Springtime lullabies of love. She’s stopped chewing her fingernails at last and her Pityriasis Rosea has receded back and faded, leaving just a faint daisy chain of small purple flowers around her otherwise pale left… Read more »Lunch with Tim McCarver in February 1987 [by David Lehman]
Tim McCarver died yesterday at age 81. Back in spring 1987, McCarver, a terrific catcher who caught Bob Gibson with the Cardinals and Steve Carlton with the Phillies, and was now a tremendous play-by-play man for the New York Mets, had a book coming out. I wasn’t crazy about the book’s title: Oh, Baby, I… Read more »“A bona fide work of art . . .” Copland Dance Episodes at New York City Ballet [by Mindy Aloff]
The “long-footed godesss” Mira Nadon , aloft, and company in ‘Copland Dance Episodes’ Photo © 2023 Erin Baiano People are talking about Justin Peck’s new ninety-minute ballet, Copland Dance Episodes, for thirty principals, soloists, and corps de ballet members of New York City Ballet. It is a bona fide standing-room only, standing-ovation hit and also… Read more »Death in the Suburbs | Ian Fletcher
It came as no surprise at all when the old lady expired never more to open the door of her empty suburban home after the two grueling months away in the intensive care ward her organs failing one by one. Though he deemed it a mercy that she had now passed on there at the… Read more »Thank You, Mona | JD DeHart
Oh, Mona Lisa, thank you for teaching me today at the coffee shop, a lesson in how to smile without smiling I’ve always tried to offer strangers a warm mitigating grin that says, trust me. I’m not so bad. Maybe it seems childlike. I don’t know. It certainly feels that way. Modicum of wordless kindness…. Read more »The Bennington Diary #2 (January 1998) [by David Lehman]
Bennington Diary January 14, 1998 Ed. Note: Back when the Inernet was a new toy, Slate had a five-day diary feature where writers reported on their activities in the field. In January 1998 I signed on to write about the experience of teaching in the low-residency program MFA at Bennington College. Wake up to dismal rain,… Read more »(Wide) Open Space at Etoile du nord, insight and a lot of pleasure [By Tracy Danison]
Cie Suzanne – “To Life”. Light and space inspired by Andrei Tarkovsky. Photo © filipfoto_avoiretadanser The more often I go to dance and performance events at the Etoile du nord, the more often I want to go to events at the Etoile du nord. For one thing, the dance performance programs that include artist question… Read more »A Relocation Problem | Donal Mahoney
We’ve moved my wife and I from home to the last place we’ll ever live and she wants to know why I’m sitting around not helping to unpack. So I tell her the problem which is her problem too but she keeps unpacking. I’m not at home, I tell her, but I’m not here either…. Read more »Sam | Roy Pullam
Three fingers; three candles Her broad smile The justification of the big day Her questions universal Her thirst for information A credit To any philosopher The nature of death The origin of flowers An endless barrage Of unanswerable queries Questions formal education Discourages With the corset-tight standards With the rigors Of what to learn And… Read more »The Benington Diary #1 (January 1998) [by David Lehman]
Back when the Inernet was a new toy, Slate had a five-day diary feature where writers reported on their activities in the field. In January 1998 I signed on to write about the experience of teaching in the low-residency program MFA at Bennington College. This is installment #1, dated January 12, 1998 Today is day four of… Read more »Recommendation: “Why Dance Matters” by Mindy Aloff [by Stacey Harwood-Lehman]
Raphael Soyer Raphael Soyer (American, b. Russia, 1899-1987) “Dancing Lesson” I’ve been reading Mindy Aloff’s Why Dance Matters (Yale University Press, 2022) and was delighted to see this much deserved rave review by Willard Spiegelman in the Wall Street Journal (paywall). The range and depth of Mindy’s dance scholarship is, frankly, astonishing. I’ve had the… Read more »And Then | J.K. Durick
We fall through the cracks, disappear; invisible folks, our story becomes so thin it slides between the pages of the book they’re writing, marginal at best, fading away drifting, jetsam afloat, adrift, some derelict debris, down, forgotten, so forgettable, and then we blur, we become background, some shadows, we’re easy enough to forget, we recede,… Read more »Grades, Keeping 2-S | J.K. Durick
I remember when grades were posted on the wall outside the dean’s office sometimes typed up, others filled in ink a bit hard to read, always hard to take just a letter up by our initials or number alphabetical order was easy to figure out we knew how we all did, comparison was built into… Read more »She Got Pinched in the Assss. . . tor Bar! [by Stacey Harwood]
[In 2011] I visited my mom for a couple of days and while with her I went through some of her old photo albums. Whenever I do, I find something that had previously escaped my attention. This time, I came across this bit of memorabilia from a different age (below left, click to enlarge): … Read more »
George Gershwin plays “I Got Rhythm”
Related Stories What Broadway meant: Ethel Merman (1960) Go to Source Author: The Best American PoetrySorry Poem | JD DeHart
I’m sorry, dear words, for promising you place then being fidgety. Tossing you out. I’m sorry, dear poem, for failing to write you down. You see, I thought you’d stay awhile but then you ran away with whatever else was in my shopping list, never to be reclaimed. Sorry at last for being fickle with… Read more »Breakdown | Ian Fletcher
We all must have our anchors to keep us sane, whether they be family, friends, a job or hobby, solid things to ground us in reality or perhaps enable our escape from it too much truth being dangerous as the wise old poet once claimed. Alas, she, she who had all of these has slipped… Read more »KGB Bar: 25 years ago. . .
Below: photograph of Paul Violi and Star Black at KGB Bar; David Lehman and Stephanie Brown; Laura Cronk, Megin Jimenez, Michael Quatrrone; John Deming and Matthew Yeager; Deborah Landau and David Lehman; Star Black at the lectern. About the Series: Labeled New York’s best poetry series by such publications as New York Magazine and Time… Read more »KGB Bar: 25 years ago. . .
Below: photograph of Paul Violi and Star Black at KGB Bar; David Lehman and Stephanie Brown; Laura Cronk, Megin Jimenez, Michael Quatrrone; John Deming and Matthew Yeager; Deborah Landau and David Lehman; Star Black at the lectern. About the Series: Labeled New York’s best poetry series by such publications as New York Magazine and Time… Read more »“River” [by Stephanie Paterik]
River The river never threatens to dry itself up, or cast itself into itself. The river holds the plank but never walks it. River, you must be my summer friend. I will explore every blade of your manmade banks until I know you properly, and I will write you these stories about myself, not as… Read more »Don’t Dream | Ananya S. Guha
In midnight’s volatile hush Dreams take over Amidst the noise of a dog barking One dream holds centre stage Me in school And the school slowly Transforming into a many-domed House, with schoolmates playing. I mull over the dream And remember the teacher who Admonished, don’t dream. The post Don’t Dream | Ananya S. Guha… Read more »Crossing Over | G. S. Katz
Juggling thoughts Staying relevant Replacing desire Can you do that? Crossing over is not so bad The cashier was flirting with me at the chicken joint Or did I perceive friendliness for flirting When you deal with chicken all day, I might look pretty good. The post Crossing Over | G. S. Katz appeared first… Read more »Unreadability (Part II) | by Gabriel Ojeda-Sagué
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationMichael Mark: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
_______________________________________________________ Visiting Her in Queens Is More Enlightening than a Month in a Monastery in Tibet For the fourth time my mother asks, “How many children do you have?” I’m beginning to believe my answer, “Two, Mom,” is wrong. Maybe the lesson… Read more »Image | Aroop Mitra
Standing before the full length mirror I am taken aback raising my left arm my palms face you imitating those saints in byzantine icons the image raises its right palm not i (but i-image) darkness swamps images converges under water cover my right it’s left my crooked he’s a crook More at https://www.facebook.com/groups/lapli2/. The post… Read more »Nocturnal Creatures | Ananya S. Guha
Nocturnal creatures aren’t ready to die in fear of being nocturnal only we the day ones living under sun are as blind as bats. The post Nocturnal Creatures | Ananya S. Guha appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry Online“The Variable Foot” [by Nin Andrews]
This comic is based on a few lines from the introduction to William Carlos Williams in The Oxford Anthology of American Poetry that made me laugh: “I write in the American idiom, “ Williams noted, “and for many years I have been using what I call the variable foot.” One of the secrets of American poetry… Read more »Weather Personified | J.K. Durick
Around here they all like to say, “it’s spitting snow,” as if they had somehow invented the concept, even the weatherman says it, but they fail to run with the idea, “it’s spitting snow” suggests a figure this large indelicate being, the “it” in the phrase, hovering over the day, spitting down on us, perhaps… Read more »Actually | JD Dehart
Sometimes I speak in figment allowing the simulacrum of life splashes of image, hints of rumor ruin my day. I move as if in the fight of my life when I am alone with my surging thoughts. Real life, what is actually going on around me, sits back, shaking its head, marveling that I always… Read more »“Ultimately Justice Directs Them” [by Craig Morgan Teicher]
Ultimately Justice Directs Them 1. The soldiers are coming. The soldiers are coming to break America. The soldiers are dispatched from America and they are landing their boats on American shores. 2 Why are the soldiers coming? Not because they believe in what they were told but because they believe that ultimately justice… Read more »“Rightly to be great / Is not to stir without great argument. . .”
How all occasions do inform against me And spur my dull revenge! What is a man, If his chief good and market of his time Be but to sleep and feed? A beast, no more. Sure he that made us with such large discourse, Looking before and after, gave us not That capability and godlike… Read more »“Stiff” [by Barnyard Kipling]
Stiff If you can keep revising when all around you are bringing polystyrene cups into those windowless rooms with the long tables; if you can keep on journaling while all around you mask feelings and ideas in words that don’t say what they think they say; if you can ‘kill your babies,’ and also adopted children, siblings, spouses, friends,… Read more »Fairness | Krushna Chandra Mishra
It’s a big joke To say fairness in practice is And to hope for it in all cases Is a thing all fair in itself. Where for the masses Fairness is nobody can show In all fairness when people go on working To arrive with great certainty at the doors Of justice where fairness lies… Read more »Snow | Pezhman Mosleh
I wish people would be pure like snow And would be melted with warmness And would become a moment creator like water And would go against any block like overflow The post Snow | Pezhman Mosleh appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineThe Hungarian pianist Ervin Nyíregyházi (Hungary 1903 – Los Angeles,1987)
Related Stories A Great Larkin Story (Not Mine) [by Jim Cummins] Go to Source Author: The Best American PoetryWEDNESDAYS WITH DENISE: February 15, 2023
This year marks the 10th anniversary of the publication of Jan Beatty’s “Dear American Poetry.” A hilarious clapback to the poetry publishing industry, this poem is as delightful today as the first day I encountered it. Dear American Poetry, I see you’re publishing: straightman/straightman/white white white how nice. Are you kidding me? Best American Poetry,… Read more »Wooden Homes | Ananya S. Guha
Husks in trees winter is short of those fruits lying in labyrinth roads and dusty shops, I waver in this net of time radiate in flow then the afterglow of the sun, mists unfurling trees, restaurants in noise weather gloves, woolens caps, tea served will gesture to the winter warm and serve me in old… Read more »Fallen | Nancy May
fallen leaves broken branches twilight years More at https://twitter.com/Haikuintraining. The post Fallen | Nancy May appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry Online
More than dancin’: “Partitions(s) – Du décollement des sentiments et des affects”, Jean-Christophe Boclé [By Tracy Danison]
“Disparition(s): Partitions(s) – Du décollement des sentiments et des affects”, Jean-Christophe Boclé. Photo © Charlotte Anneix The Partition(s) subtitle, Du décollement des sentiments et des affects (“On dis-attaching feelings and affects”) I think must mean something like “letting go” or even “purifying”. “Must” because it’s hard to describe the crystalline sensibilityJean-Christophe Boclé achieves for every… Read more »A Great Larkin Story (Not Mine) [by Jim Cummins]
David Yezzi’s post and David Lehman’s comment following bring up the basic issues all Larkin lovers (I don’t think there ARE any Larkin haters, except maybe Czeslaw Milosz) mull over frequently. When you read Andrew Motion’s biography you see what a controlling, often obnoxious personality he was; the compartmentalizing of his love/emotional life is particularly repellant. My favorite index… Read more »Clench | Tempest Brew
Twist fist power sudden tighten nothing passes thru strain feign a grain of sand stuck in the sieve leaves a vacuum. The post Clench | Tempest Brew appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineAt a Graduation Ceremony | Ian Fletcher
They inhabit a different reality safe in the cocoon of their youthful world like expectant passengers on a quay about to embark on an endless cruise their adult life a great ship that will sail across oceans of possibility. Alas, my ship has passed over those seas and nears its final destination that dark port… Read more »Queens or Bust [by Andrei Codrescu]
If you are moving to New York to do your obligatory two years of poetic apprenticeship among the sophisticated, critical, merciless, and horribly smart (or not) natives, be sure that you move to Queens. You heard me right. Not to Manhattan or G-d forbid to gluten-free Brooklyn, but to Queens. The first thing about… Read more »In Another World | Marie MacSweeney
Landscape of frenetic days linked to the demands of now, and inside it she and me, one a prowling wolf, the other an astronomer probing space. We cling to the present with our sharp telescope and our precision claws until a branch snaps beside us and she lunges from her lair, spine flexed, teeth bare,… Read more »Minding | M Spear
I’m going to imagine a better life for us painting its bright bits with neuron connections finding the reality in gray pallet, washed over tones of the real world. The post Minding | M Spear appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineBianca Stone: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
Photo by Daniel Schechner _______________________________________________________ Set Designer Once, Mark Leidner talked me into doing set design, unpaid, in the Poconos where I would be forever traumatized by the overpopulation of deer, growths on their bodies and bald patches,… Read more »After the Mend | Paul Tristram
They couldn’t touch her anymore, something had changed deep inside. She closed doors all around herself, seemed to have stopped smiling and was only seen walking alone. Luckily, this was only temporary, a thoughtful pause between chapters. She was fighting quietly, being patient and careful, waiting for the right people and correct opportunities. Her diligence… Read more »The Silent One | Ian Fletcher
You always were withdrawn and self-contained so by your nature you are still constrained for since you have been lying underground you have slumbered there without a sound with reports that not a single whispered word from your abode in the beyond has been heard. It seems therefore that your taciturnity is destined to continue… Read more »Lament of Fishermen | Ananya S. Guha
Blue river of compassion how those waves open unfurl into righteous men riding your waters crescent moon and the hill on other side mourns lapping waves, cries of the seagull, lament of fishermen in an island that is sinking. The post Lament of Fishermen | Ananya S. Guha appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to… Read more »Aging | J.K. Durick
There’s not going to be that moment, we’ve all had them, When a doctor tells us that it’s all just a common cold or Gas pains or merely an imbalance of the humors that will Correct itself with time, or we can exercise and diet back From what we thought was the brink. No, not… Read more »from “Julius Jaffe: The Poems” [by Mitch Sisskind]
Mystery Julius Jaffe said, “Some may ask how God revealed “The whole future of the world to Adam even before “The world was created. Some may ask how Adam “Witnessed this revelation even before the creation “Of Adam himself.” He went on, “Oy! Even to inquire “Regarding the highest emanations of the sefirot “Causes a… Read more »from “Julius Jaffe: The Poems” [by Mitch Sisskind]
Mystery Julius Jaffe said, “Some may ask how God revealed “The whole future of the world to Adam even before “The world was created. Some may ask how Adam “Witnessed this revelation even before the creation “Of Adam himself.” He went on, “Oy! Even to inquire “Regarding the highest emanations of the sefirot “Causes a… Read more »Great Books and the Abyss [by David Lehman]
When education and consumerism merge, students get what they want, and one thing they appartently want is all A’s – as striking students at the New School in New York City demanded in November. They also want an igloo of protection from the weather of reality. But the very virtue of great books is not… Read more »61 Is Fine By Me | David Lohrey
Is 61 old? It is my birthday and I called my mother. She said how are you? And was disappointed when I replied just fine. “Are you happy to be getting older?” Happy? Does one have a choice? Is it getting older or getting younger? If one is 60, one becomes 61 or 59? No,… Read more »The Phantom | Ian Fletcher
My past is a gray phantom that haunts me wherever I go hoarding all of my memories and the people I used to know a specter who countenances no resurrections at my bidding from his dark abysmal vaults. He feeds on my experiences thus gaining strength as I age weighing on the here and now… Read more »
What Broadway meant: Ethel Merman (1960)
Related Stories John Forbes (Part 1) [Introduced by Thomas Moody] Go to Source Author: The Best American PoetryPhotographer Sarah Meunier does drag [by Tracy Danison]
Corrine works decadence at Cirque Eléctrique, a Paris cabaret. Photo © Sarah Meunier When dancers and mountebanks were banned in the City of Light, while others quailed in their closets or pottered around snazzy country houses, Sarah Meunier was photo-reporting the Covid quarantine for The Best American Poetry’s “Beyond Words” section. In exclusive photos of… Read more »Metamorphosis | Ananya S. Guha
Your wayward paths are leftovers of those trickling down rains, sent umbrella hunting with father insisting take two, there will be more but water scarcity continued, in a town which had clouds hovering every moment, threatening to burst skies with a downpour scattering hills, trees and flowers, which had hardly bloomed. Azure skies of my… Read more »Dry Spell | J.K. Durick
I miss the words doing their job filling pages Designs falling into place syllable to stanza The silence this silence pushed back Away for another moment or two That’s what I miss most The words folding me into themselves The post Dry Spell | J.K. Durick appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author:… Read more »John Forbes (Part 1) [Introduced by Thomas Moody]
Last week marked the 25th anniversary of the death of John Forbes at age 47. Ironic, understated, comic and deceptively erudite, Forbes’ poetry represented for many Australian poets, as Ken Bolton writes, “a high-water mark against which to judge their own work.” A keen student of philosophy, art, military history, and cultural theory, Forbes in… Read more »WEDNESDAYS WITH DENISE: FEBRUARY 1, 2023
For today’s post I offer two poems written by amazing friends and poets with whom I have joyfully collaborated. These (solo) poems are both called WHEN I WAS STRAIGHT—Maureen’s written first (from Little Ice Age, 2001) with Julie’s homage to follow (When I Was Straight, 2014). When I Was Straight (by Maureen Seaton) When I… Read more »Driftwood | Nancy May
pieces of driftwood answer questions blowing out candles More at https://twitter.com/Haikuintraining. The post Driftwood | Nancy May appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineAll through Mind | JD DeHart
You can start at the memories Of putting on your dad’s shirts Pretending to be a detective Because they were trench coat long Then you can fast forward To the pushing and shoving second grade Boys’ restroom, nestled in the valley The tractor mailbox on the way to high school The long pacing telephone conversations… Read more »2AM, and the Rabbinical Students Stand in Their Bathrobes [by Yehoshua November]
2AM, and the Rabbinical Students Stand in Their Bathrobes 2AM, and the rabbinical students stand in their bathrobes at the edge of the yeshiva parking lot, watching the practiced motions of muscular firemen disembarking from their engine. Soon, it will be determined the youngest student in the building pulled the basement alarm after learning, over… Read more »RENOIR: Grand Illusion (1938) [by Lewis Saul]
Screenplay by Charles Spaak and Jean Renoir. Renoir was 43 when he directed Grand Illusion. One of the greatest filmmakers of all time, Renoir directed several terrific films before this one: Boudu Saved From Drowning (1932) — an electric performance by Michel Simon — and The Lower Depths (1936); and a few great ones… Read more »One by One… | Ananya S. Guha
Nothing takes the sting out of fear death lurking somewhere a bullet straying somewhere nothing takes the sting out of fear stricken in moments when wind plays devil, and water swirls in mad tempest nothing takes the sting fear is a death disaster fear is a broken shield of a car fear is the calling… Read more »Mount Auburn | Jessica Beck
There is a stone staircase in a tower in a cemetery just outside the city. After the climb up you will look out breathless among the bones and the flowers. The wind will feel like hands in your hair, it echoes with giggles of the dead, divine creatures and monsters. Don’t be afraid. Remember you’ve… Read more »Devil #2 [by Miranda Beeson]
#2 Devil Manolo me Mammon You gold-encrusted god of plenty Park me on Park Avenue Gild my walls. Chandelier my halls Jet my days. Jaguar my bluestone nights Pool me in my private Mediterranean Yacht me & unstopper me Margaux & Coach me Cover me in coin. Booty… Read more »Corridors of Time | Ananya S. Guha
It is another day, informal with these rains hounding you casting shadows across hills inside the worm creeps, desultory walking monotones increase so do drones of heavy vehicles, let’s go a roundabout way, placing myths in corridors of time. The post Corridors of Time | Ananya S. Guha appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to… Read more »A Phantasma | Ananya Dhawan
I swam across seas blinded by thrill, I knew no one. When the waves rose to touch the shore I rose too, the apprehension within me solid to the touch. I flew across skies Managing to avoid those voiceless shrieks, the vivid fears, the piercing pulls of gravity. I ran across mountains, braving the days… Read more »Alliteration (Part 1) | by Armen Davoudian
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationKaveh Akbar: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
Kaveh Akbar. Photo by Paige Lewis ________________________________________________________ Stop Me If You’ve Heard This One Before I can’t even remember my name, I who remember so much—football scores, magic tricks, deep love so close to God it was practically religious. … Read more »Stream of Consciousness | Stan Morrison
I am in awe of creative ideas irreverence for the revered life’s too short to sit and wonder life’s to long to fill with hatred life’s too short to sit and wait life’s too long not to love everyone, “Gather ye rosebuds while ye may…” The post Stream of Consciousness | Stan Morrison appeared first… Read more »Cherries | G. S. Katz
Avoided them for 35 years A person I almost married Was a cherry eater We ended badly Swore them off forever Till now Funny how I held a grudge against a fruit Enjoying them again They are dangerous though The pits Going slow, enjoying the ride The post Cherries | G. S. Katz appeared first… Read more »Squib 485 [by Alan Ziegler]
Baseball Portfolio #1: The Story is in the White Space Related Stories The Tears of Antigone: An Astrological Profile [by David Lehman] Go to Source Author: Alan ZieglerThe Tears of Antigone: An Astrological Profile [by David Lehman]
Antigone, a classic Aries with Sagittarius rising and a fair amount of Leo and Gemini in her chart, epitomized the feminine powers extolled by Ovid in the Metamorphoses. She was very beautiful, with a profile like that of Greer Garson in Pride of Prejudice,and a force of personality that overshadowed that of her worthy husband,… Read more »Beast with Two Backs | Wanda Morrow Clevenger
some journals pay with contrib copies — a whole slew of lambent art covers and typeface baby punch Dali designs some ask love of the craft pittance I’ve shelled a few times to further the starved cause, compare apples to oranges, pass around at writers guild meetings some journals only blow PDF kisses — printer… Read more »Late Night Flight | J.K. Durick
Past midnight and in my book the story takes flight The characters have all found their seats, checked Their luggage, stowed their carry-ons overhead And are settling in, this is the red-eye, non-stop Coast to coast, crossing time zones, flying so high This late that no one can hear it or see it, but it’s… Read more »Learning how to be dead [from “Mr. Palomar” by Italo Calvino]
This is the most difficult step in learning how to be dead: to become convinced that your own life is a closed whole, all in the past, to which you can add nothing and can alter none of the relationships among the various elements. Of course, those who go on living can, according to their… Read more »Smatter of Night | Ananya S. Guha
This scatter of rains these outpourings of smell a dash of the human touch like that much, the sidewalks are lousy crammed with people busy but drowsy umbrellas sky high walking back home tiredness on the steep these hills on a heap this scatter of rains the smatter of night. The post Smatter of Night… Read more »Floss Away! | G. Louis Heath
Floss your mind with these flossy lines. Relax, give it a good flossing. Floss the pre-frontal cortex, home to your best thoughts and plans. Then briskly do your hippocampus, to keep your memories fresh. Dementia is a terrible thing. Don’t forget to get the dark corners where the id takes refuge. Floss away the repression… Read more »Happy birthday, Mozart — and Jerry Kern [by DL]
Spring 68 at Columbia was the season of the strike, the occupation of the buildings (Low, Hamilton, Avery Mathematics, and Fayerwether where a righteous mininster married a young couple), and Mitch and I went to the West End Bar to talk tactics because we knew the “tactical patrol force” (TPF) was going to come and… Read more »Happy birthday, Mozart — and Jerry Kern [by DL]
Spring 68 at Columbia was the season of the strike, the occupation of the buildings (Low, Hamilton, Avery Mathematics, and Fayerwether where a righteous mininster married a young couple), and Mitch and I went to the West End Bar to talk tactics because we knew the “tactical patrol force” (TPF) was going to come and… Read more »
They Didn’t Believe Me (Jerome Kern’s breakout song: 1917 )
And when I told them How beautiful you are They didn’t believe me They didn’t believe me Your lips, your eyes Your curly hair Are in a class beyond compare You’re the loveliest girl that one could ever see And when I tell them And I certainly am going to tell them That I’m the… Read more »Poet, Loner, Thief | G. S. Katz
Those are the words that come to mind I need you close, but not too close Seducing you with my thoughts Taking liberties with your heart Sometimes you get into that in between time Surveying the landscape Hovering above the fog I mean you no harm To the contrary It’s love darling Plain but not… Read more »Five Poems | Nancy May
the East wind blows catching a snow storm holding childhood dreams —– mayfly in the autumn dusk on a tsunami wave —– Father’s Day getting to choose the reflection for himself —– traffic lights looking both ways on the road of life —– winter sunrise a trail of thoughts down memory lane More at https://twitter.com/Haikuintraining…. Read more »“Yonder, a Rental” [by Anna Maria Hong}
Time to howl at the celestial sphere, that full frontal silver dollar, the very paintball of pallor and elemental other. It’s all or nada as noonnight’s empanada discloses her pretty quarter, the priest’s collar hung high on the hook of evening’s fluent wall. Hung like a juror bent on acquittal who can’t stall any longer,… Read more »
Two Songs, Different Eras: Discuss. [by Stacey Harwood-Lehman]
Related Stories The Hollow Crown: From Shakepeare’s “Richard II” Go to Source Author: The Best American PoetryFreed | G. S. Katz
My graphic poems used to embarrass me Yet I couldn’t stop writing them Did I want attention ? Praise? Or a gentle rebuke? No matter Studying Bukowski He probably never deleted anything He has freed me The writing stands The post Freed | G. S. Katz appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author:… Read more »Cycles | Stan Morrison
My mother’s plants flourished in our garden her azaleas and jasmine bloomed in the spring following her death from their vulnerable transplanted state they prospered and assumed new prominence with stronger roots and assured strong contours, like my mother, I love to nurture, I delight in signs of new growth. The post Cycles | Stan… Read more »The Hollow Crown: From Shakepeare’s “Richard II”
From Richard II No matter where; of comfort no man speak: Let’s talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs; Make dust our paper and with rainy eyes Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth, Let’s choose executors and talk of wills: And yet not so, for what can we bequeath Save our deposed bodies… Read more »
All The Things You Are [by Lewis Saul]
VARIOUS ARTISTS All the Things You Are Ten versions Oh, I coulda picked 20 or 30, there are so many great recordings of this oft-played standard by Jerome Kern and Oscar Hammerstein II, which is from the 1939 musical Very Warm for May. The intro appears in #3, 4, 9 and 10. Probably written by… Read more »Tumbleweed | Nancy May
summer’s end tumbleweed on the beach cold rain clouds More at https://twitter.com/Haikuintraining. The post Tumbleweed | Nancy May appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineLongevity | Ananya S. Guha
Longevity is everybody’s business, how old are you, have the pills, don’t forget the blood pressure. Have your lipid profile done once a year for good measure. Be sure the sugar is not high, but if your hair is white, then you will be blackening it, all the night. The post Longevity | Ananya S…. Read more »Johnny Minimal
Johnny Minimalnever went over the top.He only went to waragainst unnecessary need. He kept everything under controland kept it all bottled in.A cork in his mouth;He was a man of very few words. He gave his love in small doses.Just enough to keep her going.He never whispered sweet nothings‘Cos nothing sugary was sweet to him…. Read more »An Inheritance of Imaginaries | by Karthika Naïr
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationRenia White: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
__________________________________________________ sometimes I flash forward and cry I am afraid to have this thought. a 1.5 bedroom apartment in a city I can bear, metallic hangers and art featuring dark girls, their faces obscured by large flowers… Read more »Writing, Drinking, Baseball | G. S. Katz
Sublime pleasures Quiet passion Rituals Complexity Taking chances with words Drinking more than I should Writing, in your face Direct and straight up Just like the booze Taking no prisoners Watching a no-hitter fall apart Still a shutout though Always on the verge Utopia somewhere The post Writing, Drinking, Baseball | G. S. Katz appeared… Read more »Anantomy of Desire | Ananya S. Guha
The anatomy of desire works in tandem with peculiarities, money-spinning, yarns, lies, spirit of the demagogue. Falsification in vogue. Mystique carries with it grasping tendencies, when morale is high. People are wont to do it well nigh. Anatomies often are a quirk for all heavens falling apart till do us part. The post Anantomy of… Read more »“Scarface Nation” [by Ken Tucker]
Highly recommended. Scarface Nation: The Ultimate Gangster Movie by Ken Tucker (St. Martin’s Press) Not merely the behind-the-scenes making of the 1983 De Palma/Pacino film (and the 1932 Howard Hawks/Paul Muni version), but also a critical analysis of how Scarface has influenced pop music, TV shows, YouTube videos, and political culture (see the chapter “President… Read more »Eulogy | Alan Inman
This is a sad rite for the person I used to be, the words I used to worry over, This is a beautiful release so that my fingers can stretch to explore a new earth and identity. The post Eulogy | Alan Inman appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineReluctant Recipients | HR Creel
I carry a gift they do not want. I offer it and they scoff. I write while they look on with rolling eyes faces full of disdain. The post Reluctant Recipients | HR Creel appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry Online“The Big Heat” [by John Harbourne]
The most dramatic moment in The Big Heat, a memorable Fritz Lang noir for the early 1950s, is when Gloria Graham turns the tables on her tormentor, Lee Marvin, by emptying a pot of boiling coffee on his face. Related Stories “Last Words” [by Mary Jo Salter] Go to Source Author: The Best… Read more »“Last Words” [by Mary Jo Salter]
LAST WORDS by Mary Jo Salter Forgive me for not writing sober, I mean sooner, but I almost don’t dare see what I write, I keep mating mistakes, I mean making, and I’m wandering if I’ve inherited what my father’s got. I first understood it when he tried to introduce me to somebunny: “This is… Read more »
Poetry & jazz: Dana Gioia reads “Meet Me at the Lighthouse”
Related Stories My Goal is to go to Mongolia Go to Source Author: The Best American PoetryChildish One | Alan Inman
I loathe the childish me who pushes to get his way, who still hesitates to share his toys, who grins when he gets what he wants. The post Childish One | Alan Inman appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineToss Up | Ridley Flock
It’s a toss up, my life in the air I fly above the swollen earth looking for a spot to land I am a restless space Traveler, uncertain of true home, distant stars call my family name. The post Toss Up | Ridley Flock appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry… Read more »My Goal is to go to Mongolia [by David Lehman]
All day yesterday I tried to write a song in the Cole Porter manner beginning “My goal is to go to Mongolia,” but the melody of “Columbia, the gem of the ocean” kept getting in the way. Well, I’ll see what I can come up with when I’m over there. It’s flattering to know they’re… Read more »François Gremaud & Samantha van Wissen’s “Giselle…”: A model classic [by Tracy Danison]
Samantha van Wissen. “Giselle… Comédie Ballet” by François Gremaud. Photo © Dorothée Thébert Filliger Theater pieces always manage a “…triumph…” or a “… wonderful…” printed on the program. Could mean anything – “With thousands of slaves in tow, Julius Caesar brought his triumph to Rome…”; “It is wonderful, the persistence of the Ancien Régime …” But… Read more »Too Early | Sawyer Carpenter
It’s too early for a buzz but he’s pounding them down anyway. Again. Like he always does. By noon, the driveway will smell like burning rubber and the children will pray he does not wrap himself around a tree. Again. The post Too Early | Sawyer Carpenter appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source… Read more »Change | Ananya S. Guha
The rains today have washed roads, created ripples of surprise, as the sun peeked amidst clouds to make this summer annunciation. After winter’s foreboding for months in toil, summer’s declaration hazily came. In fits and starts. Bits and pieces and winter sporadically entered. Change of seasons. We clamour for change every time these hills are… Read more »More Clerihews [with thanks to Rick Winston]
In 1995, Henry Rathvon and Emily Cox ran a clerihew challenge, and Rick Winston made a copy of the results: Mr. Rathvon and Ms. Cox Don’t fit any convenient box. They push one to wax Ogden Nashish For contests more addictive than hashish. Such is the opinion of contestant RPhill5136, whose views are expressed… Read more »“Australia” by Ania Walwicz [Introduced by Thomas Moody]
In Ania Walwicz’s “Australia” we get a critique of the country through the eyes of an outsider. The poem’s diction (a vibrant, broken English), paired with the accuracy of complaints (“You silent on Sunday. Nobody on your streets. You dead at night. You go to sleep too early. You don’t excite me”) hints at an… Read more »I Am the Comic | G. Louis Heath
Who squeezes all the adrenaline out of your pituitary gland. I have no mercy at the open mic, rolling you into the aisle, pummeling you with dark humor, wreathed in ebony crepe. I leave you DOA, dead on the aisle. The post I Am the Comic | G. Louis Heath appeared first on Best Poetry…. Read more »Strands | Camille Clark
I still find pieces you left behind, small memories captured in still life photographs, a strand there, a filament here, evidence that you filled this space, even though you have moved on to other plains. The post Strands | Camille Clark appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineWeather Report [by Lewis Saul]
Warm and sunny, with intermittent showers of be-bop, funk, and … jazz fusion. At some point in the 80’s that term became a bad word. Perhaps jazz fission would have been better. (clean energy) ** Weather Report was born after the great Joe Zawinul and Wayne Shorter ended their tenure with Miles Davis with two… Read more »Ours | by Charif Shanahan
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationMemories of the BAP 1992 Launch (ed. Charles Simic)
Bill Wadsworth, executive director of the Academy of American Poets, organized the launch readings of the 1992 and 1993 editions at the Alliançe Francaise in New York City. Bill kept these photos from the 1992 event, including a group portrait of the participants, a portrait of the series editor and one of Lynda Hull with… Read more »Mid-November | Stan Morrison
The vines are so spent nearly devoid of fruit, a few bunches hang on only to be plucked later, late harvest is sweeter more prized for enduring, the skies grey chill tule fog rushes in, cold silence then storms that promise new birth. The post Mid-November | Stan Morrison appeared first on Best Poetry. Go… Read more »Remembrance | Ananya S. Guha
Mother, the poetry that I write today is a whistling blowing song, discovered in the wind that ruffles my surroundings. Yet it was at your behest that I recited verse moved by music and the sonority of words. I did not possess stage fright as I recited poems written by others. Yet today poetry has… Read more »Mannequin Street
Cracks on wallsbring fears that buildings will come crumbling downwith cries of Everyone out right now!‘cos of no foundations underground. I gotta run for my lifeleaving my life behindas dead guitarists destroy their guitarson screen stage in a rock n roll grind. No one reacts.Nothing is shocking enough.A city of mannequins stare out over rubbleas… Read more »Daniel Wolff: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
_________________________________________________________________________ The Drift of the World You are not forgotten. How could so large a part of us ever be? When you left this life, a marker dropped. Time swirled slowly past, and who we remembered you as worked itself free…. Read more »Newness: Editor’s Discussion, January 2023 | by Robert Eric Shoemaker
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationDestinies | Ananya S. Guha
I arrived one day in this place, a hill town of salubrity, every moment here was a pine drop, moment of the wind, evanescent hills waiting to be glimpsed, contours rested in broad frames of the mind, rains unleashed weather spots, fruits the odour of pines. I will come back to these hills with picture… Read more »En Route | JD DeHart
We found each other along the way not like a stardust romance across the room but real work and real life. The post En Route | JD DeHart appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineOut There | Marie MacSweeney
Grab any day and it is not enough. We are unbearably alert, afraid that there is nothing else out there, yet hopeful as skies darken and earth calms down enough for us to search out what might lie hidden. There is a slight stammer when we speak, which we must always own, carried casually, like… Read more »Oblivion | Ananya S. Guha
I am moved by death in many stubborn ways: some news, an obituary, an in memoriam; but it is moving, a slow passing into dying deep embers, where the wound is unhurt, uncut, only in oblivion. The post Oblivion | Ananya S. Guha appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineIs Poetry Kaput? [by Michelle Rochefoucault]
It used to be God whose decomposing corpse made the big stink. Nietszche announced the death. Freud put forth the exposition in The Future of an Illusion and Civilization and Its Discontents. In its cover story of April 8, 1966, Time made it official in a cover story wisely phrased as a rhetorical question: “Is… Read more »Jan Steen, “The Drawing Lesson,” circa 1665.
Jan Steen, The Drawing Lesson, ca. 1665, Oil on panel, The J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles. Related Stories Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God [by Jonathan Edwards] Go to Source Author: The Best American PoetryCobwebs | Ananya S. Guha
Grandmother’s house now there are no cows only bricks narrate relics of history as the house spins spiders into cobwebs. The post Cobwebs | Ananya S. Guha appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineThe Language of Water | Marie MacSweeney
Centuries of wheels over water, child’s footsteps across the footbridge echo mine. Blennerville and Percy Place, the harbour, ships loaded and unloaded, gunshot and rebellion beside the canal, ricochet defacing Georgian glass and stone. Winter-fat river in Brecon Beacons struts through tavern doors, drowning these once dancing floors though it is St. David’s Day and… Read more »Tea | Rebecca Cowgill
winter horizon in the eye of the storm a refreshing cup of tea The post Tea | Rebecca Cowgill appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineMayfly | Nancy May
reading the tea leaves a difficult future for the mayfly More at https://twitter.com/Haikuintraining. The post Mayfly | Nancy May appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineShe Likes Swans | Paul Tristram
She likes swans and ballerina feet shuffling. The bend of a Welsh harp (The actual musical ability is irrelevant!) The circumference of a peach not an apple nor an orange. The sound the word ‘Pastel’ makes whilst giggling through gulps of fizzy lemonade. Old heavy brass door knockers (Yes, that’s the very ones!) Clouds do… Read more »The Maimed Hand | Ananya S. Guha
Try writing with a maimed hand words will not write, only speak the finger may not move but words will into a long loop, an arc, a clever movement the heart and mouth will move hands will not write, the mouth will, and words will take shape of the earthly, into a slow movement of… Read more »WEDNESDAYS WITH DENISE: JANUARY 11, 2023
If you are, like me, endlessly fascinated with the sonnet and all it can hold, you’ll want to get yourself a copy of The American Sonnet: An Anthology of Poems and Essays by Dora Malechand Laura T. Smith which will be released tomorrow by University Of Iowa Press. From Phyllis Wheatley to Diane Suess, from… Read more »“Fantasia on Kierkegaard and Sir Gawain and the Green Knight’ [by David Lehman]
Back in 1983 I wrote a piece titled “Fantasia on Kierkegaard and Sir Gawain and the Green Knight” that Laurence Goldstein published in the Spring 1984 issue of Michigan Quarterly Review. Wonder of wonders, it is on the Internet, this effort to “conjecture, or ‘make book,’” on what the Danish philosopher would have made of… Read more »Charles Simic (1938-2023)
The saddest moments in my life as an editor occur when word reaches me that a guest editor in The Best American Poetry series has passed away. Charlie died some five months shy of what would have been his 85th birthday. Born in Belgrade in 1938, he had dreams and memories that he could draw… Read more »Snake Bite | Ananya S. Guha
Snakes do not bite water is tight for man to decipher the bite which is ridden with fallow hope of escaping blood and vague articulations of death as, the hit back is not poisonous only somnolent. The post Snake Bite | Ananya S. Guha appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry… Read more »Snake Bite | Ananya S. Guha
Snakes do not bite water is tight for man to decipher the bite which is ridden with fallow hope of escaping blood and vague articulations of death as, the hit back is not poisonous only somnolent. The post Snake Bite | Ananya S. Guha appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry… Read more »Why Are They Jealous of You? (Because You’re Nice and They’ll Never Achieve That) | Paul Tristram
Life gets harder the older we get. Besides the backstabbing, betrayals, slander, physical, emotional and mental attacks. We lose people to death… more and more. Oftentimes things seem to go wrong far more than they go right. There are hard decisions to make, important crossroads that we cannot understand the full consequences of until further… Read more »Kenneth Koch: The Poem Writes Itself [by David M. Katz]
from David M. Katz’s blog, we lift this tribute to Kenneth Koch: Below I offer to readers of this blog a pre-New Year’s gift in the form of “You Want a Social Life, with Friends,” a delightfully funny poem by Kenneth Koch (1925–2002). “Kenneth Koch” by Alex Katz. National Portrait Gallery, Smithsonian Institution. ©… Read more »Another Year | Ananya S. Guha
And it is the second day of the year, how different from the first which had a clatter of noise and sound burst. We have proceeded from first to second arithmetical progression of hope. Should there be deception, disappointment that this second is more dubious than the first? My hill town is now breathing spaces… Read more »Burning Questions | Scott Thomas Outlar
Seventy degrees in the middle of December – Sitting on the porch in short sleeves – Thinking about solar cycles and polar icecaps – Wondering how the globalists will get rich on carbon taxes – How soon will it be until air is no longer free? More at https://17numa.wordpress.com/. The post Burning Questions | Scott… Read more »Unreadability (Part I) | by Gabriel Ojeda-Sagué
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationCathy Eisenhower: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
______________________________________________________ Things to Do in a Post-Doug Lang DC Be sad. Be very, very sad. Worry about Sandra, Phyllis, Terry, and Bernie. Worry about Rod and Dan. DM Sandra. Text Phyllis. Text Tom. Cry while watching the crane a block… Read more »Winter Moon | Rebecca Cowgill
winter moon taken of life support stars sparkle in the night winter moon lilies on your coffin a final goodbye The post Winter Moon | Rebecca Cowgill appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineBurning Bush | Marie MacSweeney
Pacing that cold beach of a dark night you fish for truth in those swathes of space where a ship’s lighting embraces the moon. There is a slice of sky and shingle where you cast your nets, spreading starlight around you for illumination. The gods mock this, their gimlet eyes fixed on you. Bareback, they… Read more »A World-Sized Love in a Universe of Hate | Paul Tristram
That’s just what it can feel like out there sometimes and that’s exactly when you need to shine brightest. Don’t stop being nice because bitter people don’t like it, instead only be nice to the people who appreciate you. They’re only jealous because the light has left them, leaving spite and meanness to lord over… Read more »Goodbye | Rebecca Cowgill
On the platform, a goodbye kiss between us. The post Goodbye | Rebecca Cowgill appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineHer Necklaces
She wears purple and pearlEmerald green; a girlWho hangs with the worldWrapped round her neck. Years after she was bornIn her will she’s swornNever to compromise or pawnThe weight round her neck. As the accused play for sympathyAnd the victim acts guiltilyHer matchmaker stares criticallyAt the stones round her neck. Song written by JDG, guitar… Read more »
Santé, Bonheur! Joy! Imagination! Discernment! Thoughts on some upcoming dance and performance [By Tracy Danison]
Entanglement: Jann Gallois and Rafael Smadja perform Gallois’ “Compact”. Photo©Cie Burnout Happy 2023. Best wishes. For this year, I propose taking it as it comes and, for what’s left, letting the heart decide. This past New Year’s Eve I watched 18-year-old Ukraine refugee acrobat Sofia Kotetens gorgeously, meticulously tie herself in the emotional knots of… Read more »Claude Rawson on Stanley Fish, Derrida, the Rise and Ruin of Critical Theory (1991)
The more things change, the more they stay the same — or get worse. From “Old Literature and Its Enemies” by Claude Rawson, London Review of Books, 25 April 1991. The identification of theory with a more or less coercive political agenda has been pointed out from time to time, and its more triumphalising publicists… Read more »Post-Op | William Zink
I wept outside the room, standing there with your sisters waiting for the nurses to put you on the bed. I heard your voice— there was banter—from you, not only them—as though you were having coffee at the end of a walk through the mall. I wept, clenching my fist, waiting to see you. I… Read more »One When | Robin Wyatt Dunn
one when no one shall bend my ear to your recourse the voice of course is morse (but not mine) in sea I find the memory mine not yours but mine not yours but mine! won’t you let me out? keep me here: I found wax inside your ears and bent them in to fill… Read more »In Absence—This Unknowing [by Bianca Stone]
When you leave, faceless old lover, element that I have tried for so long to explain—I will be suspended between two large stones for a moment thinking you were good before I am revived. I will be laundry that has gotten loose from the line. Pantyhose flying into traffic. So long, handsome. When you go,… Read more »Little Woman | Marie MacSweeney
Dance pursues her. Those neat feet giggle. Her toes hunt new ground in a ballet pirouette. She taps life into pavements, colours the sun. In her dream the long arm of the jungle is shaking her free of trees. The post Little Woman | Marie MacSweeney appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author:… Read more »Forest Stones | Paul Tristram
Beyond the ivy-clung forest stones her hermit’s hearth does glow with the scent of wild herbs and other hedgerow matter. ‘Tis bottling night again, the ladle is overemployed, with the rhythm of eye measurements, dipping and diving with the flow. Simmering time’s for ladder knotting, whittling worms out of the soul. Busy yet still slipping… Read more »Academic Graffiti [by W. H. Auden]
Auden collected his clerihews under the title Academic Graffiti (1952, 1970). Here are several of my favorites from the Auden oeuvre: When Karl MarxFound the phrase ‘financial sharks,’He sang a Te DeumIn the British Museum. * MallarméHad too much to say:He could never quiteLeave the paper white. * When the young KantWas told to kiss his aunt,He… Read more »Academic Graffiti [by W. H. Auden]
Auden collected his clerihews under the title Academic Graffiti (1952, 1970). Here are several of my favorites from the Auden oeuvre: When Karl MarxFound the phrase ‘financial sharks,’He sang a Te DeumIn the British Museum. * MallarméHad too much to say:He could never quiteLeave the paper white. * When the young KantWas told to kiss his aunt,He… Read more »“Microbiome” by Andy Jackson [Introduced by Thomas Moody]
Andy Jackson’s Human Looking (Giramondo) won both the Prime Minister’s Literary Award for poetry and the Australian Literature Society’s Gold Medal in 2022. The book’s title possesses a canny doubleness that can inform us of how we might enter the collection: life is, to a large degree, a cumulation of looking, both as observer and… Read more »Rubbish Movies | George Sandifer-Smith & Kathryn Charlotte Hill
Full-blooded nights of twelve or thirteen hours are one of my favourite Christmas traditions, spent having you all to myself, collecting the years I didn’t know you greedily together in one room of deep reds. We watch rubbish movies as you pull my cardigan close around yourself; it swallows you up. I don’t love you…. Read more »Understated | G. S. Katz
I’m my own man understated elegant in a rough way a cup of black tea in a coffee frenzied rush hour not a pretty boy I don’t do things to be different I am different if you’re looking for cool look elsewhere I’m pleated pants in flat front chino land no validation needed comfortable with… Read more »Breslin and Buffett: “To thine own self be true” [by Mitch Sisskind]
I got turned on to Jimmy Breslin when I read his novel Table Money many years ago. Later, I read his biography of Damon Runyon — a real masterpiece in my opinion. I was looking forward to his new book about Eppolito and Carracappa, the crooked NYPD homicide detectives. I didn’t see how it could… Read more »
Karlheinz Stockhausen [by Lewis Saul]
Karlheinz Stockhausen (1928-2007) would not make many Top Ten Composers of All Time list — but he makes mine! I first encountered his music when I was 15 (1967), and I knew the tingling in my ears meant that I had found something special. My beloved late father — who could sit and listen to… Read more »The Greatest Poet Who Has Ever Lived | Daniel Klawitter
I’m the greatest poet who has ever lived- Or at least, the greatest who’s just like me! My awesome rhymes will blow your mind Like a cinnamon-flavored breeze. Yes my poems are so delicious You eat them up like toast. I’m sure you like other poets, But like my poems the most. My verses are… Read more »Under-Statements | JD DeHart
There is a conversation here I am not aware of, a group of words clustering, looking for a new home There is a meaning hidden, like a child playing a game, tucked inside a line, a Derrida-like violence to language What I have said is what I have said but then that word passes through… Read more »Schopenhauer & “The Will to Live” (on the day he was born, Feb. 22, 1788)
The Will to Live “They say that Schopenhauer is pessimistic. That is not saying very much. [His] is a grandiose and tragic vision which, unfortunately, coincides perfectly with reality.” – Witold Gombrowicz, A Guide to Philosophy in Six Hours and Fifteen Minutes Arthur Schopenhauer was a competitive man who felt nothing but scorn for Hegel…. Read more »Happy birthday, David Shapiro, author of “January”
David Shapiro wrote: at 8:42pm David, please take the test I left out in the rain. Freud’s the name, theory’s the game, lying on the couch seems inane, free association is the main, transference too is the cane, Oedipus walks in the rain. Take it, I’m an easy marker, for Freudian reasons and some Adlerian…. Read more »A Brief Sad History | Tempest Brew
they thought they were something puffed up chemical-filled full of themselves until the change arrived the seasons shifted then they found themselves flat on the rug The post A Brief Sad History | Tempest Brew appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineKernel | Russ Cope
There’s a bit of truth in all fiction. There’s a bit of me in you. A bit of you in me. I sneeze and the universe says, yep, I know what that’s like. I spread and diffuse and merge and we all speak together The post Kernel | Russ Cope appeared first on Best Poetry…. Read more »Tom Mandel: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Between Past and Future I. (In the academy: a conversation between master and student) Rabbi, when will the Messiah come? Why do you ask me? Go ask him. But Rabbi, how will I find the Messiah? No problem. He sits among the sick and homeless at the gates of the… Read more »
Maxine Sullivan welcomes the new year
Loch Lomond (“you take the high road, and I’ll take the low road, and I’ll be in Scotland afore ye”) A Hundred Years from Today (“so laugh and sing, / make love the king, / be happy while ye may,/ there’s always one / beneath the sun / that’s bound to make you feel that… Read more »Open to the World | Paul Tristram
She couldn’t comprehend the selfishness, greed, betrayal, two-facedness and general nastiness housed inside the average human being. Until it bulldozed her bright spirits several Gigantic times in succession. Then she couldn’t understand how sharing, being kind, nice, understanding and playing fair was not the obvious and easiest way to be? And in fact merely marked… Read more »Fang | Russ Cope
Today we found a tooth made of stone, impressed in rock. It’s probably the earliest known specimen of fang, long before we were walking out of the soup and learning how to devour each other. I imagine I could build a whole animal around this one piece, just start with the tooth and go from… Read more »Titian’s “Venus of Urbino” on New Year’s Eve [by David Lehman]
New Year’s Eve Champagne and a ribeye, that’s the ticket, Beethoven’s string quartet in C# minor, and good riddance to the plague year. The mind can provide, provide, and theories will continue to propose themselves in politically incorrect seminars in which ardent young men declare the whole study of aesthetics may be divided between Titian’s… Read more »“More Mush from the Wimp”
6) The least read (most ignored) “important” poet in English is (a) Dryden (b) Spenser (c) Pope John Paul II (d) John Lennon in his “Rubber Soul” period (e) Sara Teasdale (7) Who said it: “Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely.” (a) Queen Victoria (b) Gertrude Stein (c) Harold Acton (d) Herald Square (e)… Read more »Roots of the Story | Tempest Brew
let’s travel to the roots of the story ancient myth sex crime murder whatever it happens to be and fully explore The post Roots of the Story | Tempest Brew appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineTransformative | Tempest Brew
mind takes me to a place I do not want to go mind tells me something new while kissing me old The post Transformative | Tempest Brew appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineHappy birthday, Sandy Koufax (born December 30, 1935)
Related Stories You Shouldn’t Say “Should” Because It Makes People Feel Stupid Go to Source Author: The Best American PoetryXmas Special (2022)
I’ve updated my latest poems since October in a new collection. Some new poems, some previously posted poems tweaked, and lots of new collages. You can find it all up in the menu with other collections from 2022. Go to Source Author: aprettykettleofpoetryMackerel Skies | Paul Tristram
It feels strange to frown at the heat and brightness exploding through my kitchen window. August was after all so very bleak and grey. Great Admiral’s dance close by and the mackerel skies outside pull my thoughts and mood to them magnet-like. I find myself memory walking upon a beach in Bude, barefooted, relaxed and… Read more »Gunk | JD DeHart
stuff of age and life and moving, unable to quantify, unable to move forward, simply clogging up the mechanism listen to the choking sound of an engine that’s got the colic welcome to the system, (I hope you like it here) the gears they don’t work sometimes and the smiles you see are only blinking… Read more »WEDNESDAYS WITH DENISE: DECEMBER 28, 2022
Happy New Year, everyone! Here is a poem by Ted Kooser. YEAR’S END Now the seasons are closing their files on each of us, the heavy drawers full of certificates rolling back into the tree trunks, a few old papers flocking away. Someone we loved has fallen from our thoughts, making a little, glittering… Read more »Quote of the Day: David Sedaris’s Advice to Oberlin College Grads
Choose one thing to be terribly, terribly offended by, this as opposed to the dozens or possibly hundreds that many of you are currently juggling. Stand up for what you believe in, as long as I believe in the same thing. Those of you who’d like to ban assault rifles, I am behind you 100… Read more »Zeus the Action Hero | JD DeHart
They found him on a far-reaching casting call. There had been a time when he would pretend to be a swan. Pretending to be Stallone sounded cooler. Lights, camera, action, and it was all thunder and bolts, fastidiously signing autographs when the director yelled cut. More at http://truthaboutsnails.blogspot.com/. The post Zeus the Action Hero |… Read more »Tip of the Hat | JD DeHart
Gentleman caller who tips his hat in cordial gesture, but hides inside the soul of a beast. The post Tip of the Hat | JD DeHart appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry Online“A Message on the Machine” [by Tom Disch]
Hello Tom. The day has come round at last the day appointed for our meeting, the day you are to die and I decreed to be your executioner. So you must look your best. If you do not I will be dishonored before all my rivals and companions, a… Read more »
The Critic [film by Mel Brooks]
Related Stories Two Prose Poems [by Nin Andrews] Go to Source Author: The Best American PoetryConceptual | G. S. Katz
Reading recent email They explain matters of state Years of interplay Living in the 2nd Life Not going to explain attraction Something so powerful Shook my personal foundation Real, not real, conceptual at best Muse, lover, friend Aura, float, conflict Love fest, steady, vision Pleasure, poison, beautiful… The post Conceptual | G. S. Katz appeared… Read more »Three Baby Sharks | Paul Tristram
It was our Wedding Anniversary, we were walking along the seafront. There was a little guy in his late fifties standing next to a fishing pole, so we sauntered on over to ask him if he was having any luck? He looked nervous as we approached? In a rock pool smaller than a bath at… Read more »Have you ever seen the goddess dance? Dorothée Munyaneza does Radouan Mriziga’s “Akal” [by Tracy Danison]
Dancer, singer, choreographer Dorothée Munyaneza. Photo © Maya Mihindou Believe it or not, my critical skepticism evaporated when I saw the golden horns. A second before, Akal’s mythology is contrary to fact, its suppositions stretched beyond belief. Dorothée Munyaneza’s golden horns? Macbeth’s AK47. A second after, the priestess of Neith is processesing to center stage…. Read more »Two Prose Poems [by Nin Andrews]
“Yes” and “Never Say Yes” (by Nin Andrews) Yes Orgasms are bad news. In the town where I grew up, orgasms were against the law. No one had an orgasm, not even God. By the time I was twelve, I wanted an orgasm. Just one, I begged. Then one day, everything changed. My body caught… Read more »The Picture Framer | Glen Wilson
The large print is starting to curl, I’ve been putting it off all week. The happy couple; bodies turned towards each other, faces forward. They picked out a mahoghany frame, its not with current trends, a classic that will age with them, keep their story within one tenderly hung rectangle. We used to smile like… Read more »Impending Monday | G. S. Katz
Ugh The post Impending Monday | G. S. Katz appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineCatullus, Sappho, and Jackie DeShannon [by Susan Morrow]
Catullus (above left) is the best translator of Sappho (right), managing to create both a sense of the original and something that stands as an original poem on its own. Catullus was (according to the Oxford Classical Dictionary) “doctus,” learned, “but he used doctrina in his own way.” He was an original mind, and… Read more »“God has Pity on Kindergarten Children” [by Yehuda Amichai]
God has pity on kindergarten children. He has less pity on school children And on grownups he has no pity at all, he leaves them alone, and sometimes they must crawl on all fours in the burning sand to reach the first–aid station covered with blood. But perhaps he will watch over true lovers and… Read more »Merry Christmas! “Little Tree” [poem by e.e. cummings]
View this post on Instagram A post shared by Edna (@ednaschoice) Related Stories Wm Logan on Frank O’Hara Go to Source Author: The Best American PoetryStarwatching at Your Own Risk | Trish Saunders
For years afterward, the children would remember their visit to the planetarium with great fear. They were enthralled by streams of stars stretching across a vast dome of sky. Only the brochure frightened them. “Welcome to Mauna Kea Observatory on the Island of Hawaii. You have never before stood so close to the stars. Throughout… Read more »Emergence | Scott Thomas Outlar
Yellow and green in place of black A heart in place of coal Friendship in place of treachery Water in place of wine Oxygen in place of smoke Health and happiness in place of sickness Life and love in place of cancer Truth and honesty in place of false hope A song in place of… Read more »Xmas Special
Pouring out this year’s Xmas Speciallifting up glasses to read this year’s nominationsin rhyming alphabetical orderLet’s do the do, you the you. The list was too longso let’s cut to the quick.Pour that Xmas Special, Normand we’ll write the list in no time, give us me specs. The family, the friends.The Christmases past that forever… Read more »Wm Logan on Frank O’Hara
Re: “Death is often a good career move in poetry” (the first sentence of William Logan’s review of Frank O’Hara’s Selected) as if FOH committed suicidewhen all he did was watch the tide drunk as in a Song Dynasty tunetrying to embrace the moon — DLfrom the archive; first posted July 1, 2008 Related Stories Let… Read more »Motherhood | Rozann Kraus
not all of us (ovaries not withstanding) choose membership nor are we all recruited some born to it others learn as they go accidents gone well or trusting in miracles and science our names are many all, the sound of needs hungry, tired, scared, lonely, anxious, hurting day and night confused the now is never… Read more »Labeled | Wanda Morrow Clevenger
officially labeled “caregiver” like this appointment is some grand godly gift vastly improved from Webster’s wife and mother and grandmother that begs a radical set of credentials Lynda Carter’s twin bracelets a sonogram of Oak Island with no option but to wear sensible shoes and tip the Concierge More at http://about.me/wandamorrowclevenger. The post Labeled |… Read more »
Let Doris Day take you on a sentimental journey home. .
. Related Stories Pilgrims on the Ocean [by Terence Winch & Eileen Estes] Go to Source Author: The Best American PoetryHerb Engelhardt invents the haiku
Greasy Spoon I watched the owner pocket a two-dollar tip left for a waitress. And I felt sorry for the guy, knew he would die hated by his kids. — Herbert Engelhardt (1925-2021) Herbert Engelhardt was born in New Jersey in 1925. He served in the Pacific Theater of World War II from 1943 to… Read more »Wedding | Nancy May
a cascade of blossoms smiles on faces camera flash More at https://twitter.com/Haikuintraining. The post Wedding | Nancy May appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineI Don’t Relate to Happy Shiny People | G. S. Katz
People who are happy all the time Are a pain in my butt I relate to moody and irritable specimens like myself Who have to create out of despair towards the middle Maybe that’s why I wear so much black It matches my monochromatic moods Looks smashing cool and keeps those shiny people in check… Read more »Some Cinematic Suggestions [by David Lehman]
For The American Scholar, I’ve posted short essays on the movies I’ve listed here. Here are links to, and brief excerpts from, the articles. To this post, which first appeared on March 27, 2020, I have since added my piece on The Manchurian Candidate from January 22, 2022. Click here to see other Talking Pictures… Read more »The Poetry Foundation’s 2022 Staff Picks | by Harriet Staff
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationWithout Answer | Scott Thomas Outlar
There is always something better but never quite anything perfect There is always more to do but never enough time or the right path to reach the end There was no beginning and there shall be no ultimate conclusion There will come a fire with unquenchable flames that no flood, no miracle, no public service… Read more »I’d Dream about Love If I Could | Steve Higgins
I’d dream about love If I could. Instead I dream about motorbikes and racing cars About writing books and a sailing barge But I’d dream about love, If I could. Sometimes I dream about a pretty girl With beautiful hair and big round eyes She dreams about love, Well, if she doesn’t, she should. I’d… Read more »Pilgrims on the Ocean [by Terence Winch & Eileen Estes]
Terence Winch & Billy McComiskey, 2016 Eileen Estes, Susan Campbell, & Chérie Campbellcat ——————————————————————————————————————————————————————- Last year I collaborated with one of my all-time favorite singers, Eileen… Read more »Tanya Larkin on Cavalli, Koch and Paestum: Is There Any Comparison?
“I don’t want to talk about love, I just want to make it.” (D’amore non voglio parlare, lo voglio solamente fare.) I hear this Patrizia Cavalli line, made famous in Kenneth Koch’s poem “Talking to Patrizia” and think, I don’t want to talk about poems, I just want to make them. And yet here I am talking… Read more »A Woman’s Dream | Raviera
To Whoever said come out of your dreams and live in the real world… Dreaming is the only time to feel real freedom… I dream of a safe environment for my sisters and daughters. I dream of freedom. I dream of world where love and kindness is real. I dream of a world where I… Read more »Broken | Raviera
Nothing killed me No one could beat me I won a thousand wars against many And still I stood with my head held high And a big smile But the day my own people abandoned me Something died in me Now I am not alive anymore I breathe no more I see no more I… Read more »
Dmitri Shostakovich: The Nose, Op. 15 (1927-28) [by Lewis Saul]
The Nose, Op. 15 (1927-28) Royal Opera House Orchestra of the Royal Opera House Ingo Meszmacher, cond. (2:13:27) The 22-year-old wrote his first opera (although he began others, the only other satisfactorily complete one is Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk [see my post]) a mere decade after the Revolution. Based on the short story of… Read more »There’s Nothing Sexy about Scotch Tape | G. S. Katz
It provides a function Been around for ages Gotten better over time The matte finish less sticky than ever before Despite the chemical smell it’s a tried and true product From Scotland I presume Though that could be a misnomer Like buying it in bulk At the big box store 48 rolls Won’t buy it… Read more »Sex Drives Come and Go | G. S. Katz
When I was younger It was all about sex When I was in mid-life It was all about sex Now I’m approaching twilight Dusk thereafter It’s still about sex But a good sandwich… The post Sex Drives Come and Go | G. S. Katz appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry… Read more »Don’t Bury the Lede [by Walter Carey]
In the current Atlantic,the time-waster who got the coveted assignmentto write about “The Waste Land”on the poem’s one hundreth birthdaybegins with these three questions:“Why is April the cruellest month?Why did the chicken cross the road?Why do people watch golf of television?” Really. — WC Related Stories On Seeing the Nutcracker Suite as an Adult [by… Read more »Revisiting Scent | G. S. Katz
I stopped for a long time Took a job where smelling good Would definitely work against me The urge never went away though Now I’m back again But only during my time off Talking scent Fragrances for men That when applied Take me back in time to my sensual past Armani, Boss, Burberry Brit To… Read more »Basic | G. S. Katz
I used to be more complicated Maybe took some pride in that Now I just don’t give a damn Take me as I am or not at all I’m not changing Basic needs and wants Simplicity Aging rocks in that way Not wearing different color socks yet That would be a problem The post Basic… Read more »The Citizen | by Austin Allen
Go to Source Author: Poetry Foundation
On Seeing the Nutcracker Suite as an Adult [by Stacey Harwood-Lehman]
Several years ago, a colleague who was leaving NYC for L.A., asked me what should be on her “bucket list” of things to do before heading west. “See a performance of the New York City Ballet’s “Nutcracker Suite,” I said, without hesitation. That was my answer then, and it would be my answer today, even… Read more »Paul Tran: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
________________________________________________________________________ Lipstick Elegy I climb down to the beach facing the Pacific. Torrents of rain shirr the sand. On the other side, my grandmother sleeps soundlessly in her bed. Her áodài of the whitest silk. My mother knew her mother died… Read more »I Won’t Listen until I Do | G. S. Katz
She’s gone Left this earth Fought the battle Went quietly A little morphine To speed her path There are messages On the voice mail Ones I saved along the way Knowing this day would come Can’t listen yet Maybe in time Knowing they are there Gives me comfort In a morbid kind of way She… Read more »Precious Time | Naduni
You rest in peace Under my swollen eyes I never knew My tear glands could produce So much tears Till I experimented at your death Everybody is here Our friends, your parents Even my coworkers and yours They remind me the god given precious moments I wasted without spending with you Holding your hand for… Read more »Sterling Hayden as Johnny Clay in Kubrick’s “The Killing” [by John Harbourne]
For more of John Harbourne’s pioctures, visit this site: johnharbourneartist.com copyright (c) 2022 by John Harbourne Epitaph for a Genre: On Kubrick’s “The Killing” [by David Lehman] Adapted by Stanley Kubrick and Jim Thompson from the pulp novel by Lionel White, The Killing is classic noir. The plot is about an expertly planned racetrack heist that goes… Read more »‘Please understand before one of us dies’
Death always makes you think.When you’ll be brain dead.And everyone you love.Your heart not beating blood red. What is the secret to immortalitywhen your life is just normality?No idea. Just do the best you canand if possible be human. I don’t always do it.Bit of a temporary twit.But try.Might get there before I die Go… Read more »Faded Reconnaissance | Cole Severns
He appeared from the rolling hills of the countryside. Among the maples, cedars, cottonwoods. The deep thuds of pumping oil wells. His days of exploration, scaling barbed-wire fences, throwing two-seamers. Always afraid to miss out. Fascinated. Infatuated. Fully immersed. Never sheltered, the son of a worldly traveler, the son of a blue-collar splicer. Learned, open-minded,… Read more »The Chasm | Cole Severns
Rejection, burned deep into my insides. Obscured by a thin veil. Fleeting hope’s eternal torture. Connection to warmth and safety, unceremoniously severed. Phoning-in my purpose. A free man trapped in a self-made prison. Haunted by pervasive thoughts. Loneliness ever present, my loyal companion, my inviting refuge. Discarded without remorse. Desperate for time to save me…. Read more »“Disappearance—My Euridyce” [by Lynn Emanuel]
Disappearance—My Euridyce 1967, New York City, East River From Jackson Pollock, I had learned to hate Botticelli’s “The Birth of Venus”– Those white, white sheets– thrown back covers of the breakers’ unmade bed, and Venus uncombed, unkempt, always just decanted from sleep, that hair– a serpentine peignoir tossed across her shoulders— I scrubbed my… Read more »You Tubers (The World’s your Oyster Card)
Clock hands jump hours like feet.No one keeps up with time flying.Buskers grab pennies droppingand I’m just wondering whying. Fall asleep and wake up to another daycos that’s the beauty of being here.Just hoping tomorrow will staylong enough to keep hearts beating, very dear. Been on holiday and away from workwhich is what it’s all… Read more »“Shanked on the Red Bed” [by Susan Wheeler]
Shanked on the Red Bed The perch was on the roof, and the puck was in the air. The diffident were driving, and the daunted didn’t care. When I came out to search for you the lauded hit the breeze On detonated packages the bard had built to please. The century was breaking and the… Read more »WEDNESDAYS WITH DENISE: DECEMBER 14, 2022
Stephanie Burt’s We Are Mermaids was published earlier this year. It’s a delightful look at the emotional difficulties and triumphs of girlhood, the places of watery air and airy water, the brackishness of in-between spaces. The gorgeous poems are about trans identity, yes, but also about all the ways everyone—trans or not—has inner superpowers wanting to be unleashed…. Read more »Farcible (2) | JD DeHart
We are only toes and ideas. Moving awkwardly down the celestial street. My typical, your atypical, we all sit at the blinking screen. Typing answers to the ever-test. My voice is a cadence of moving muscles, peristalsis, undulations, a life of certain limitation, always pretending eternal yet occupying minutes. More at http://jddehart.blogspot.com. The post Farcible… Read more »The Beautiful Struggle | G. S. Katz
I was pretty comfortable Tenured, money in the bank Respect of my peers Bored out of my bloddy mind What I worked so hard for Turned out to be The death of hope My fire softened by complacency When Dylan was at the height of his fame He went to work washing dishes in a… Read more »An Angel Spoke
Don’t feel part of this world but this world is a part of me.Light a fag and swirl off into space and swirling smoke.Nah, can’t be botheredbut got a psychedelic wheel with an angel spoke. Go to Source Author: aprettykettleofpoetryAnnouncing the Poetry Foundation’s Fall 2022 Grant Awardees |
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationMy Lineage and Me | Naduni
‘Oh! Please master, I beg you to stop…’ ‘Not yet! Kneel down and hold your hands together behind you!’ ‘Yes master’, I obeyed, Then and there. Throughout my life I obeyed you. ‘Do this, do that, not that idiot but THAT!’ Whenever you made an order, I was at your hand and your foot But… Read more »Poetry as Criticism | by Timothy Yu
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationOcean | Nancy May
ripple on ripple footprints in the sand ebb in the ocean More at http://twitter.com/Haikuintraining The post Ocean | Nancy May appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineAccepting Applications for New Poetry Magazine Podcast Host |
Go to Source Author: Poetry Foundation
Festival Signes d’Automne 2022 at the Belleville Swan # 1: a right approach, time and place for contemporary dance [by Tracy Danison]
“Wel come” by Joachim Maudet with Pauline Bigot and Sophie Lèbre, cie Les Vagues, produced for “Festival Signes d’Automne” 2022, Regard du Cygne. Photo © Jean Gros-Abadie I ended the 2022 edition of the Signes d’Automne program at studio Regard du Cygne with a performance called Wel come by Joachim Maudet. On the corner of… Read more »
Four Interesting Covers [by Lewis Saul]
A cover song is a new recording of a previously released song that someone else wrote. So the first two examples don’t really fit that definition — they are more like transformations: Miles Davis was 19-years-old when he took the bandstand with Charlie Parker and played this solo on the tune Now’s the Time from 1945: … Read more »Artificial (1) | JD DeHart
Their sound brought to mind the ticking of a clock, their voice and cackle the thought of a toaster oven. They are regulated, skin-thin beings, and have rarely shown what truly lies beneath. Thought I sit in their space, breathe their medical breath, I have yet to know their true names. The post Artificial (1)… Read more »The Numb Generation | Andrew Darlington
my grandfather marries in 1915 plants a son, goes to France and never comes home… Len grows up among doting women who wipe his tears, care and cosset, always there for his pleasure… until after the second war he meets my mother in 1947 to plant his own son… no post-traumatic stress disorder for his… Read more »Love Whenever
Don’t ever doubt my love for you.Sing those romantic songs cos I wrote them.Broke down for you, felt them from the heart.Every flower, every stem. Troubles come and troubles go.People come and people go.In moments when all seems lost and stands still,I’ll love you and always will. Go to Source Author: aprettykettleofpoetryHigh Reason Treason
Kill who?Kill me?Kill you?Kill a Facebook Catesby? My court is a kangaroo.I’m guilty.I can Instagram anything true.And filter it falsely. That’s nothing new.But gone globally.In a zoo.Caged up and free. Go to Source Author: aprettykettleofpoetryThe I in Tradition: Editor’s Discussion, December 2022 | by Robert Eric Shoemaker
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationEros, Attention, Acceptance: A Writer’s Arsenal | by Alina Stefanescu
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationThe Mad Wiseacres | P.K. Deb
In the kingdom of wiseacres wisdom is made captive property and all are automatic to be bewitched and involved in blind chasing and counter-chasing. So my sister’s wit chases me, my brother’s wit bites me and my friend’s wit barks at me since my wit makes them foolish. Some may be wistful wooer to one… Read more »Pragmatic Lack of Faith | G. S. Katz
I want to believe But I don’t And cringe when someone says God help me Knowing there is no God In a conventional sense So I struggle Wanting to join the club But being locked out One more time You can’t fake it after all Can you? While my passion for non-belief is strong It… Read more »Ann Pedone: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
_______________________________________________________ The Third Poem 1 A month after I quit grad school, I got a birth control patch. Two days later, I met my ex-boyfriend 1.1 An alphabet emerges 1.11 Aggressions, chicken bones, young… Read more »“Shaking Martinis” [from John O’Hara’s “Butterfield 8”]
“Tell Mrs. Liggett what you told me about shaking Martinis,” said Nancy. “Oh. yes,” said Farley. “You know, like everyone else, I suppose, I’ve been going for years on the theory that a Martini ought to be stirred and not shaken?” “Yes, that’s what I’ve always heard,” said Emily. “Well, in London last year I… Read more »Love for the Ages | Madge Paige
Our love isn’tJust for now,It’s a magnificentGift to beEnjoyed for all time.I can’t envisionBeing with anyoneBut you.I feel contentmentBeyond wordsWhen I’m with youMy gorgeous flower.Come with me,Let’s go into eternity,Together forever,A love for the ages. The post Love for the Ages | Madge Paige appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry… Read more »The Demise of Mr. Wise | Donal Mahoney
The demise of Mr. Wise came as no surprise to the clerks in his department, those weathered women who for years had borne his scorn so well. The story goes that Mr. Wise that day, balancing his tray at lunch, stepped lightly past the puddings, pies and cakes and pitched across his broth. Two feet… Read more »When | Mónika Tóth
When I miss your soul, I send my heart, hidden explorer, to you. I imagine we are together again, at least for a few moments, and our souls thread like in the old times… The post When | Mónika Tóth appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineI Still Think | Alan Inman
I still think there is a kindness in people buried somewhere deep there is a healing property a possibility in the quiet hum there is a door wide open to a better life a better place a better frame of being. The post I Still Think | Alan Inman appeared first on Best Poetry. Go… Read more »Marvelous Poets: Dante. . and more on Marvell [by David Lehman]
There is something cold and terrifying about Dante. Of the three books composing his “Divine Comedy,” the most compelling has always been the “Inferno,” which Dante envisioned in painstaking detail down to the last punishment meted out to a Florentine enemy or rival. Justice, not love, reigns supreme where the entering souls are told to… Read more »From theater to performance: “Waiting for Godot” in Ivana Muller’s “Slowly, slowly … Until the sun comes up” [by Tracy Danison]
*Peter Woodthorpe asked Beckett one day what “Waiting for Godot” was really about: ‘It’s all symbiosis, Peter, it’s symbiosis,’ he said. Woodthorpe played Estragon in the first British production. – Wikipedia. Photo © Atelier de Paris When I was a student in the mid-70s, Samuel Beckett’s Waiting for Godot was to modern theater what Macbeth was to… Read more »My Mood | Mónika Tóth
sky is gray air is sharp my heart is broken my soul is broken I am awake but I should be asleep The post My Mood | Mónika Tóth appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineThe Last Fight | Chris Byrne
When you hide behind the trees. Seeing the forgotten plains slowly remembering the green fields wanting to forget never to remember. Never seeing the wood for trees losing the battles, yet never the wars making a last stand seeing the trees standing alone doing what’s right. Never doubting the strength within rising high above seeing… Read more »Not to Begin | Daisy
the saddest tragedy not able to even take one step to try to be something you thought you couldn’t enjoy life at least some never knowing what might have been or never was because you never tried The post Not to Begin | Daisy appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry… Read more »When I Was Young I Didn’t Drink Gin | G. David Schwartz
When I was young I didn’t drink gin But a knew a man, a boy back then Who ate and drank noting but gin Gin in a glass Gin in a cup Gin in a brownie and gin with The rest of the sup. The post When I Was Young I Didn’t Drink Gin |… Read more »“Transit of Venus” by Marty Hiatt [Introduced by Thomas Moody]
Marty Hiatt is a Berlin based poet and translator who runs the intrepid Baulk Press. Originally from Melbourne, Hiatt’s work keeps alive the correspondence between the experiments in French poetry of the late 19th and early 20th centuries and those taking place in Australian poetry today, exemplified by his great long-poem “The Manifold”. His translations… Read more »“Transit of Venus” by Marty Hiatt [Introduced by Thomas Moody]
Marty Hiatt is a Berlin based poet and translator who runs the intrepid Baulk Press. Originally from Melbourne, Hiatt’s work keeps alive the correspondence between the experiments in French poetry of the late 19th and early 20th centuries and those taking place in Australian poetry today, exemplified by his great long-poem “The Manifold”. His translations… Read more »
Pearl Harbor according to “The Godfather”
“Say, what do you think of the nerve of them Japs?” Sonny asks. “Dropping bombs on our own backyard on Pop’s birthday here.” To which Fredo, who didn’t go to college to get stupid, replies, “They didn’t know it was Pop’s birthday.” The flashback finale of The Godfather, part 2. Related Stories Benjamin Garcia:… Read more »Ekaterina
That was quite a kissthat would last decadesunder a night sky no one could missunless blind or so unromantic it fades. How a heart gets bloody.How the anatomy of cruelty rules.How someone can seeand then change into a leader of fools. Your name was on my lips,now a name in infamy.When the tipping point tipslove… Read more »Death In Amor | JayM
Slow, tender, close in an intimate embrace, A waltz on the spiral of a trembling leaf in the early morning breeze, Jouful moments of movement, Alive in a dance of luminescence, Leaving a trace of inexhaustible lightness upon the ground; Footprints of ardour in the sunlight; a mellow shower of cascading delight, Alternating between the… Read more »I Am Hard | Mónika Tóth
I am hard like the earth. Solid and unwavering. Silent like the air. The post I Am Hard | Mónika Tóth appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineWilliam Makepeace Thackeray: Pendennis [by Lewis Saul]
Fifty years ago, your Editor, a few friends and I were drinking strong black coffee at a nice little café in the Montparnasse district of Paris. I was studying music composition and — frankly — had never read anything other than texts on music (with the exception of Theodore Dreiser, a high-school independent study project)…. Read more »The New York School Diaspora (Part Forty): Dara Wier [by Angela Ball]
95% of Thoroughbred Horses Descend from Eclipse I’m walking slowly the way trees walk. I’m letting my branches slip over steaming coastline. My bucket, my stick, my good boots. My eyelids shoot out lightning bolts. They’re over before anyone sees. I tie them down with strips of old bed sheets. If you’ve never ripped… Read more »No Flowers | Leonarda Addario
There are no flowers anymore In this room, Nobody comes by To say hello or spend some Quiet time reading. It wasn’t always this way, Not so long ago there was Joy, life, fun Permeating this chamber, Not just empty curtains Blocking the outside view. The post No Flowers | Leonarda Addario appeared first on… Read more »I Love Her, I Truly Do | David P. Carroll
The first ever time I Saw you in life, I knew it was love true love, You’re the woman I need to love, Holding hands walking the Summer Beach Feeling true love holding you, Its true love beating inside my heart listen to it beat, Filling my heart and soul with loving thoughts of you,… Read more »On Vocal Type and the Power of the Pegasus | by Tré Seals
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationBenjamin Garcia: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
________________________________________________ Le Daría Mis Pulmones Toward the end, she could only lift a cup of coffee. Closer still, even that became too much for her, my mother. A sponge, then, I’d dip in coffee, or dip… Read more »Believe Me | Mónika Tóth
dedicated to my best Romanian friend Vasile For You Beautiful. Believe me, Your soul your heart Wonderful You are perfect Believe me The post Believe Me | Mónika Tóth appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineIt Can Happen in a Second | Donal Mahoney
Solid middle class he is always has been always will be until tomorrow on the highway in the rain this bus topples over on his Dodge Durango. He will never walk or work again. In six months or a year his savings will be gone. He will be for life a ward of the state… Read more »A Question from Emily Dickinson [by David Lehman]
I have a great fondness for two-line poems. Robert Frost’s poem “The Span of Life” is a perfect couplet, enacting the life of a dog as if in a diptych representing youth and old age: The Span of Life The old dog barks backward without getting up. I can remember when he was a pup…. Read more »Call for Poetry Submissions
Best Poetry Online has an open call for poetry submissions. Please feel free to submit your poems for publication on this website. The post Call for Poetry Submissions appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineDream | Heath Brougher
They could not stop thinking about the dream as a grin of mad desire woke up to find summer upon their faces. More at https://www.facebook.com/heath.brougher. The post Dream | Heath Brougher appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineYeats & Paul Violi
DL You that would judge me, do not judge alone This book or that, come to this hallowed place Where my friends’ portraits hang and look thereon; Ireland’s history in their lineaments trace; Think where man’s glory most begins and ends, And say my glory was I had such friends. William Butler Yeats >> From… Read more »Athena Sonnets (by Mitch Sisskind)
‘What are words that you hate, Athena, ‘And what are the words that you love?’ Until now I had never called her Athena But here was born a delicate intimacy Between us and moreover I really was Curious re Athena’s word preferences. She hung fire… Read more »A Dream | Fotoula Reynolds
A dream dropped me on a hilltop As simple as it was beautiful White clouds tinged with blue And I wondered – Is this all there is? Down in the valley where laughter cried Birds forgot where to fly And blades of grass swayed Without fear of being wrong A dream dropped me on a… Read more »A Dream | Fotoula Reynolds
A dream dropped me on a hilltop As simple as it was beautiful White clouds tinged with blue And I wondered – Is this all there is? Down in the valley where laughter cried Birds forgot where to fly And blades of grass swayed Without fear of being wrong A dream dropped me on a… Read more »Poetry Submission Websites
If you’re looking for poetry submission websites where you can submit your poems, then welcome to Best Poetry Online, a place where you can have your poems published online. The post Poetry Submission Websites appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineNoir City Festival (Oakland, CA, January 2023)
Related Stories “Midston House” [by David Schubert, 1913-1946] Go to Source Author: The Best American PoetryInterstellar Theme Park [poem by Jack Skelley]
Photo by Gary Leonard (Ed note: Ever since we posted the conversation between poets Jerome Sala and Jack Skelley we’ve been fielding requests for their poems. Here is Jack Skelley’s Interstellar Theme Park, from his book of the same title. You can find it here.) Interstellar Theme Park by Jack Skelley Based on Alejandro Jodorowsky’s… Read more »Poem about love on day Christine Mc Vie died
So, we got into scrapesArguments that weren’t even worth discussing.if we had an ounce of sense,we would have let it lie from birth. We made sure we were different.At loggerheads for the sake of it.What happened baby? Being stubborn?Or just well into it? So, I’ll carry on drinking.Carry on thinking.Making obvious rhymes.Playing innocent to obvious… Read more »Stop Being So Horrible | Sarina Harding
why is it that you don’t seem to care about anyone? why are you so mean? what did someone do to you? you do realize that there are a million other things you could do instead of trying to hurt others get some help go talk to a therapist work out your demons find that… Read more »A Predictable Life | Donal Mahoney
He was predictable all those years going home after work doing odd jobs around the house getting ready for work the next day. He remained predictable after the divorce going home after work doing odd jobs getting ready for work the next day. He was still predictable after he lost his job applying for benefits… Read more »The Complete Collection of Lies
They came in with the tide, from a shipwreck and an old seadog’s cry:So ingrained, they became grains of sand by and by.Hidden in an hourglass, so sky-highthey got lost back in time, my oh my. An exotic head with a black glass-eyewas buried so deep any tear would drybefore it had a chance to… Read more »On the brink of a blink
There are lots of moments you should have been there.Moments we would have laughed about something someone said or did.Some place that would have been to shareOr, if not, to be told where it was hid. Now, nostalgia is very easy to print and bind or download and save that very day.Moments the brain’s lowly-paid… Read more »New Paths | Nancy May
spring rain we both now walk separate paths The post New Paths | Nancy May appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineStanding Ovation on Standing Ovation
Predictable predictors get so used to predicting what will happen,it’s almost like nothing does.Snatching depression from the jaws of happinessthey wear puppets on their gloves. Isn’t it just the waythat bottles of wine spin at the end of the daywhen things were just getting better?When it seemed there were enough hours left to out-welcome any… Read more »Please | Cattail Jester
Please don’t use your Tongue like a razor Or a stinger inside Please don’t use me Like an excuse to do Your worst Please think of please Not just to please yourself But to be pleasing. The post Please | Cattail Jester appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineMalediction | Vera Ashton
My dream has become our curse, A white dress, An aisle, Comfort. Trapped in a fairy tale that never ended, Monsters around every corners, Prince Charming running around corners, My glass slippers lacerated my ankles. I turned the wrong corner, Came face to face with the evil queen. Her tentacles wrapped around you. Your hands… Read more »Space for Love | Pushmaotee Subrun
For love to bloom again For couples to bond all over again, Instead of wilting in pain, Why not make it all a mutual gain, With private talk, understanding, patience, A dose of tolerance and perseverance? Love will certainly bloom in abundance. With space for intimacy, Thus, gaining supremacy. The post Space for Love |… Read more »My Nationalism | Ananya S. Guha
My nationalism is very tepid not warm like yours My nationalism is colour blind not swayed only by white or fair to many it is unfair My nationalism is not black and white, it is yellow, just right My nationalism looks at slums, dirty filthy, debris not really hubris My nationalism looks at blood with… Read more »“The Joy of the Gamble”: from a conversation with Aspen Matis and David Lehman
Aspen Matis (left): In the book’s eponymous poem, “The Morning Line,” you write of gambling as an aspect of human nature — and of human folly. With intensity and grace, the speaker evokes a seductive picture of chance as “abstract art,” observing how “the gulf / is sometimes wide between the odds / set by… Read more »Autumn Leaves | Lynn Long
Adrift in the wind Floating gently on a breeze Whispering sweet nothings Are the Autumn’s falling leaves Alive in vibrant color In hues of red and gold Painting the landscape Awakening the soul More at https://www.facebook.com/beneaththemoonlight/. The post Autumn Leaves | Lynn Long appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineHouse Call | Bryn Fortey
“i have this deal of death about my hands” (Ray Bremser, in the poem “Blood”) I had another fall this week only two paces from door to bed but the sudden darkness threw me off kilter and down I went as with previous falls I went down easily and did no real damage scraping some… Read more »The Professional | by Austin Allen
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationKathleen Rooney: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
________________________________________________ Western My favorite flavor of Western is revisionist; my second favorite flavor, spaghetti. Unforgiven is the best Western of all time; don’t at me. An acidic landscape, accelerated, unstructured. How long before no vestiges… Read more »5000 miles | Kristi Ocampo
The physical distance between us is immense, calculate it and it would show you the distance in thousands. But this is nothing compared to the monumental distance of our disposition, immeasurable as it is made up of myriad apologies and timidities– Consisting of reasons why we’re not fit for each other, reasons you have made… Read more »Poems about Love | Maryanne Howe
i used to write countless poems about love to a certain someone who i thought was the one for me i used to write countless poems about love to anyone who would listen for a moment i used to write countless poems about love to everyone but myself The post Poems about Love | Maryanne… Read more »The Answer | Cattail Jester
They ask me what The answer is Like I can read the sky Or tea leaves Be kind Or something Stop buying And give I don’t know Sound like a fortune cookie Just ask yourself. The post The Answer | Cattail Jester appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineWords Can Sound So Good | Riley Andersen
All those things you said to me that Weren’t true, I wish you had just Kept your mouth shut instead of Confusing me, leading me on, Making me think something more Was going on than realistically was. Words can sound so good but I found out they can’t always be Trusted, or believed, if they’re… Read more »Borges: “Translators have impoved my stories”
Jorge Luis Borges said: “I respect translators, and my stories have sometimes been greatly bettered by them. One of them told me so himself. Besides, I am so fond of English that I like anything better in English than in Spanish.” While the relevance of this quote to “No R” is not obvious, people of… Read more »Homage to “Laura” [by John Harbourne]
Diptych by John Harbourne. Copyright (c) 2022 by John Harbourne. All rights reserved.+ John Harbourne has made similar drawings of many other noir figures. www.johnharbourneartist.com Laura Then the doorbell rang. Time for one more cigarette. It wasn’t Laura’s body on the kitchen floor. He is not in love with a corpse Time for one more… Read more »Doug Lang, 1941-2022 [by Terence Winch]
My very dear friend Doug Lang, brilliant poet and beloved teacher, passed away at around 11:00 p.m. on Tuesday, 22 Nov. 2022, in his apartment at Springvale Terrace, the assisted living building in downtown Silver Spring, Maryland, where he had been a resident for the last five-plus years. His health had taken a turn for… Read more »Excavation Masters | Krushna Chandra Mishra
Skilled excavation masters Giving unknown years to digging Truths till, disfigured beyond recognition, They stand as the world, in applause, Greets and gratefully thanks them For the great skill of making things Lose the original lustre that, in truth, they held Once before, through years of masterly strokes, coats Of new paint in perfect alignment,… Read more »The World Is Too Little | Mónika Tóth
dedicated to my nice Romanian friend Vasile your name so unique I swear your eyes so sweet I swear your lips so soft I swear you are beautiful for me I swear without you the world is too little I swear The post The World Is Too Little | Mónika Tóth appeared first on Best… Read more »Porky Pie Positive
It’s a yes.The best of the best.The future looks bright.Looking forward to Good Morning with a Good Night. Anything can happen and it will.It can only go right, Jack and Jill.There’s a hundred reasons why.A change for the better is nigh. Think positive.Is there anything against you can argue with?Love will winand if it doesn’t,… Read more »Let’s Talk Turkey
Related Stories “Buffalo” [by Tom Disch] Go to Source Author: The Best American PoetryYou | Ananya S. Guha
Unrest in the university campus everyone creates a rumpus some are arrested some molested the university castigated as the worst when it is the best you people will never learn to catch the guilty you high priests of authority. The post You | Ananya S. Guha appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author:… Read more »Protest V | Gary Beck
Protestors marched on Wall Street opposed to abuses of greedy capitalists wallowing in luxury, while millions lose jobs, homes, hope for the future. Demonstrators were clubbed, pepper-sprayed, forcibly arrested, unheralded heroes speaking out for many, supported by few, destined to defeat by hirelings of the rich, elected legislators, appointed bureaucrats, serving the wealthy, forgetting obligations… Read more »Good Mourning Morning
Birds clamouring outside all treed.Trees outside full of birds singing ’bout something you need.Obsessive compulsive birds on play-backplaying back their dawn chorus on repeat track. Only thing for sure is unlikely to happen.Drum rolls roll to a dead standstill.Peace of mind is a mind-piece snappin’with Hitchcock birds gatherin’ over the hill. Go to Source Author:… Read more »WEDNESDAYS WITH DENISE NOVEMBER 23
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! Enjoy Richard Blanco’s poem “America,” which portrays how his family celebrated the holiday. https://richard-blanco.com/book/city-of-a-hundred-fires/america/ Go to Source Author: Denise Duhamel… and Débussy, too: Josephine Tilloy, Thi Mai Nguyen, Lisbeth Gruwez & Claire Chevallier
“Prémisse”, Thi Mai Nguyen. The Princess soliloquizes the “commemoratio dilemma”. A man of infinite jest. Photo © Danny Willems Etoile du nord and Théatre de la Bastille recently gifted me a little trinity of dance jewels: Josephine Tilloy’s Evila and Thi Mai Nguyen’s Prémisse at Etoile and Lisbeth Gruwez who danced pianist Claire Chevallier’s Débussy’s Piano… Read more »Andrzej Wajda: Ashes and Diamonds (1958) [by Lewis Saul]
Creeping authoritarianism. Teetering democracy. Dangerous political leadership. No, I’m not talking about the U.S. of A. but the centuries of sadness which is synonymous with the historically chopped-up country of POLAND. Specifically, the 24-hour period (May 8-9, 1945) during which this film takes place and the year it was made — 1958. ** Josef Stalin’s… Read more »Divided | Carl Handy
Mother preaches about forgiveness but hates her own son The son she birth under the sun Whose fault is it that his tongue became the gun that tried to destroy you? I’m confused, but I shouldn’t be mother I’m just a child caught in the muse Forced to take sides Not strong enough to break… Read more »Divided | Carl Handy
Mother preaches about forgiveness but hates her own son The son she birth under the sun Whose fault is it that his tongue became the gun that tried to destroy you? I’m confused, but I shouldn’t be mother I’m just a child caught in the muse Forced to take sides Not strong enough to break… Read more »A Waste | Chris Byrne
Skills get wasted over time, become obsolete, wasted, never used, forever idle, never using, forgetting the skills that once made you tick. Forgetting ever more the tricks of the trade, dying trades that will be forever forgotten, trying to remember good times when trades flourished. Remembering the wasted years, those years of hard toil, never… Read more »Employability? | DJ Tyrer
There once was a chap from Southend The Jobcentre decided to send On a course on Employability Which was more like futility And eventually sent him right round the bend! More at https://djtyrer.blogspot.com/. The post Employability? | DJ Tyrer appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineThe Flint, Michigan Water Crisis | Buff Whitman-Bradley
At the end Of long hot summer afternoons Parents call their children Home for supper And when the young ones come banging Through screen doors To slake their thirst And cool down For the evening meal They pour themselves Glasses of ice water When the kids return from school On frigid winter days And take… Read more »Bouquets for Fall | by Adrian Matejka
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationKit Robinson: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
photo by Eric Breitbard _______________________________________________________ This Poem This poem is incredible You should immediately memorize it and tell it to all your friends If you read this poem over and over You will be better able to read and… Read more »The Infinite Cartography of Etel Adnan | by Jennifer Scappettone
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationFirst Poem in a New Book | Paul Tristram
It’s nice to be able to look back upon those dark times with a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders and a calmness to your untroubled brow. It’s not because it wasn’t unpleasant, it was, but because it’s gone so far back into the past that it actually feels like a previous incarnation. What matters really… Read more »From the Moment I Set Eyes on You | Cristina Belmonte
you had my heart from the moment I set eyes on you and knew that you were the one for me beautiful inside and out I could not wish for more a dream I will never wake from love blooming in a meadow of hope feeling your presence in every breath a life of pure… Read more »A poem from Tony Hoagland on his birthday [ed. Terence Winch]
My Father’s Vocabulary In the history of American speech, he was born between “Dirty Commies” and “Nice tits.” He worked for Uncle Sam, and married a dizzy gal from Pittsburgh with a mouth on her. I was conceived in the decade between “Far out” and “Whatever”; at the precise moment… Read more »In the Rain | T. F. Rice
“The reason people find it so hard to be happy is that they always see the past better than it was, the present worse than it is, and the future less resolved than it will be.” –- Marcel Pagnol raining cats and dogs which is better than pet rocks to be better is not always… Read more »Crossing the Race Line | Bryn Fortey
come the late twenties and music, particularly jazz took some small steps in crossing the race line encouraging interracial performances Italian/American Eddie Lang born Salvatore Massaro cut some 1929 duets with African/American Lonnie Johnson bringing together the two men credited with giving the guitar prominence as a solo instrument though Lang had to be billed… Read more »
“Won’t somebody tell me where’s my Bess?” (Sinatra at the Waldorf, 1945)
Recorded for Columbia February 2, 1946. Sang at the Waldorf-Astoria’s Wedgwood Room, 1945. Sinatra Takes Over Wedgewood Room and Wins Crowd Despite His Illness The quality of laryngitis is strained these nights at the Waldorf-Astoria’s Wedgwood Room where Frank Sinatra is making a belated start on a short engagement. It is painfully obvious that he shouldn’t… Read more »Milton Berle (by Mitch Sisskind)
Young lady, does the name Milton Berle Have any particular significance for you? Does the name Milton Berle ring a bell? I thought not, so I’ve got news for you. Milton Berle in the early 1950s almost Single-handedly multiplied the number Of American television sets from only 500,000 to 26 million of the boob tubes; Without… Read more »Upgrades | Stan Morrison
a tattoo, I would say, is definitely not for you especially those with permanent/fading blue and with terrible graphics and artistry too ditto for surgery to enhance your looks after leafing through before/after books photoshopped/enhanced by medical crooks you’re not destined to look/act very smart no advantage for a horse before a cart vanity/deceit do… Read more »Irony of Rains… | TheAPwrites
While the half is drown, And half dry is frown, Half facing a scarcity, Half suffering from availability, Half is waiting impatiently, Half is out due to plenty, On half it’s flood, On half it’s dead bloods, Somewhere hope to dry, Somewhere tears dry, Some are tensed to low, Some are waiting for flow, Why… Read more »Ad-Verse Reactions: Poets / writers Jerome Sala and Jack Skelley quiz each other on advertising, pop culture, late-stage Capitalism and monsters
Both Jerome Sala and Jack Skelley have just released “new and selected” volumes. Both writers have had careers in advertising and PR. Both use pop culture (and many other related subject matters) as thematic material. Now both are interviewing each other. Jerome Sala’s book is How Much? New and Selected Poems (NYQ Books). Jack Skelley’s… Read more »“Ode to the Other Woman’s Ass” [by Denise Duhamel]
Ode to the Other Woman’s Ass You have occupied my husband’s imagination when he otherwise might have been bored. You gave him pretty shapes to behold at the mall, in the supermarket, when he peered from behind his Newsweek at the airport. Oh thong-wearer, the strings rising from your crack like bird’s wings in flight…. Read more »I Am So Glad I Met You | Mónika Tóth
dedicated to my nice Romanian friend Vasile I am so glad I met you You are my inspiration directing me each day. I am glad I have a friend like you to make my life complete. The post I Am So Glad I Met You | Mónika Tóth appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to… Read more »The Evil-Witted | Krushna Chandra Mishra
This harmony and unity In this co-existence in peace Is what leaves you troubled And to end this calm and joy In dubious devilish ways You want to divide us all Into armies to fight your battles With our heads and our blood In ignorance into which to wit You have pushed us for ages… Read more »Cycling | T. F. Rice
old photograph square with rounded edges my mother and her mother walk a pastel beach small frothy waves just reach the sand her belly swells with my looming presence in hand a paper cup with straw from some long gone eatery I notice how she stands her mother the same way interchangeable sandy feet, thin… Read more »That One Elusive Thing | Matthew Borczon
on the farthest side of the evening I’m driving on highways built over the bones of dinosaurs looking for that one elusive thing under a neon blue sky accented by fireflies as beautiful as stars. The post That One Elusive Thing | Matthew Borczon appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry… Read more »Musical Influences
Can’t say I want to sleepthough my eye lids are droopingcommon sense goes out of the windowwhen the mad moon is stooping. I want to see you again and againavoid you again and againlook for you again and againignore you again and again. If there’s time, let’s waste it.If there’s a cop out, let’s go… Read more »Genova (1994) /Genova revisited, or Cagliari (2022)
Genova Orange marmalade busesin a traffic jam along the portside streetwith Vespas and Fiatsand pedestrians on rush-hour feet. Local fishmongers, displaying crab, carpand swordfish, set up stall,while nearby, waterway mermaidswait outside bladderwrackety doors. Columbus’ city of catscobbled together like cobblestonescurled up on car bonnetsor licking on leftover fishbones. While in Centrostoricoin a riotous rundown taverna,a… Read more »
Caravan Palace [by Lewis Saul]
French swing — or “Gypsy jazz” — originated with a group called the Quintette du Hot Club de France, founded in 1934 by guitarist Django Reinhardt and violinist Stéphane Grappelli. Because Reinhardt was from a gypsy family, the term stuck. Perhaps the most important aspect of this early American-influenced jazz, was la pompe —… Read more »Discography (After Philip Larkin) | Jim Bellamy
At last, she yielded up her record, which, Scratched, glossed upon its deck, days thick. Oh, matted with its bakelite, the slick Defections of glib music spin to live. Lies smoke the words of these ‘stereo-images‘. My living eye must hanker after sound- With ponytails colliding with the moon, I lift my heady head against… Read more »Blood Moon’s Truth | Kenneth Vincent Walker
Blood Moon suspended Above our heads like a Cherry pie, all while her Deafening silence sways In the night unpretentious. As the taste for destruction Looms so defiant before Our very eyes as we concur, This world isn’t constructed For the insecure and poor. Blood Moon is the emblem Above displaying our grief, In a… Read more »Bouncy Comprehensive
Shuffling school sandals through soggy autumn leavesbeing told off cos you might get dog shit on themyou wallow in unpunishable sincos the hits keep on coming. Playing kiss chase and British bulldogsand turning into charging frogsyou go as traffic lights to the fancy dress party feeling embarrassingin a mum-painted white sheet with circles in red… Read more »Low Life/High-Rise | Sunil Sharma
Two workers non-descript Heads tied in kerchiefs Sunk cheeks and stomachs But rippling biceps under Their sweat-stained T-shirts Eating a cold lunch kept in A sagging newspaper Spread out on the dusty mound. The daily, their provisional plate and tiffin box, The humble fare being shared. Perched on the freshly-dug earth, Legs crossed, unmindful of… Read more »Meaningless | Chris Way
Can I squeeze the words out that describe what I feel The sounds heard and vocabulary real Is it not a struggle to pour myself out Like a fluid I fill my vessel without a doubt The noises made have to be trained to mean Filling the paper for others to have seen So in… Read more »Poetry in Conversation With Itself | by Timothy Yu
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationMaureen McLane: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
Photo by Laura M. Slatkin, 2016 Paris _________________________________________ Belfast Your velvet hills came to me last night in the pool how they hugged the fraught city the pubs filled and buzzing the Europa unbombed now… Read more »Homeless Moon | Sadia Mehmood Qurashi
O homeless moon! I love the way you shine! I’ll catch thee soon And make you mine! O homeless moon! You aren’t alone! I’ll be with you Till the dawn! The post Homeless Moon | Sadia Mehmood Qurashi appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineThirsty Butterfly | Sadia Mehmood Qurashi
Thirsty butterfly! Thirsty butterfly! Takes a sip to wet its throat which was dry Thirsty butterfly! Thirsty butterfly! The post Thirsty Butterfly | Sadia Mehmood Qurashi appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry Online
Mark Doty, David Lehman, and Michael Braziller Discuss Frank O’Hara
Frank O’Hara (right) with the painter Larry Rivers, with whom he collaborated on “Stones.” In 2010, at the Philoctetes Center in New York City, Michael Braziller moderated a dialogue between Mark Doty and David Lehman regarding the poetry of Frank O’Hara, who influenced both of us tremendously. The evening in question was November 11, 2010. … Read more »Architects of The Hell | Ximena Gautier Greve
They all wanted to be good. It strikes me that about desire. That the lovers incessantly express after all indecision troubadours of nightmares and sorrows under all lunar and terrestrial shadows, They all wore their lamps working on hands clean or dirty, bloody or diaphanous, murderous poetries of hatred and misunderstanding or tender feathers of… Read more »Life | GKaur
They say its from birth to death, I say its from breath to breath . They say its from good to bad, I say its the experience we had. They say its from regret to rejoice, I say its a matter of choice. They say its from easy to tough, I say its sometimes good,… Read more »Remembering My Dad on Veterans Day [by Stacey Lehman]
My dad landed on Utah beach, not as part of the first wave, thank god, or I probably wouldn’t be here, but later, to clean up. He was a soldier in the 94th Infantry Division that fought in the Battle of the Bulge and liberated a concentration camp. It was in Nennig, Germany, that the… Read more »Hail Kelly Full of Grace [by David Lehman]
Born today, Grace Kelly was twenty-six when she married Prince Ranier and became the princess of Monaco. Thus ended a brief but magnificent cinematic career. Astrologically, her charm, beauty, and royalty are all prefigured in her chart: Scorpio is not only her birth sign but also her rising sign! Born on Philadelphia on November 11,… Read more »Song Unsung | Willow
Once there was us In a swirling miasma Two beings finding Each other in The darkness A sound heard Across time Not able to be ignored Times spent in delight Changes coming our way A wave goodbye A song unsung The post Song Unsung | Willow appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author:… Read more »Potluck Poetry | Mary Bone
The poetry was potluck. I brought something to chew on. People were dozing off and falling off chairs. We took our leftovers home, to gnaw on another day. The post Potluck Poetry | Mary Bone appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry Online“On Heaven” [by Ford Madox Ford]
On Heaven –To V.H., who asked for a working Heaven That day the sunlight lay on the farms; On the morrow the bitter frost that there was! That night my young love lay in my arms, The morrow how bitter it was! And because she is very tall and quaint And golden, like a quattrocento… Read more »Two Poems by Nachoem M. Wijnberg trans. David Colmer [Introduced by Thomas Moody]
David Colmer is an award-winning Australian translator who has translated over 15 volumes of Dutch-language poetry, including Even Now by Hugo Clauss, which was shortlisted for a PEN Award for Poetry in Translation, and Self-Portrait of an Other by Cees Nooteboom. In 2001 he received the James Brockway Prize, an oeuvre prize for translators of… Read more »Bow Figurehead | Ximena Gautier Greve
Cut the seas figurehead, run ominous waves! … Shew us new damned reefs, coral of human vermilion loaded with chunks of rails the ruthless sowed on the high seas. The Pacific roars its distress rises to sky its monstrous waves, as arms that last rocked agonizing bagged bodies on the innocent cradle of sea …… Read more »Fall Runes | Ralph Monday
For nine days a Bradford leaf hung from a single spider filament, slowly turning like seasons on an axis. Suspended like Woden on Yggdrasil it too, speared, spoke in autumnal runes. Yesterday, gravity induced piercings, the rains came; tattooed anecdotes, transparent crayon sketches, filtered down through yet green branches. They packed an old narrative. The… Read more »In-Tray
Unfortunately, a lighthouse blackout tomorrowwith ruddy comic hang-ups of yesterdaywill shed light on polls todaythat old fogeys push upon child prodigies to say: “It’s a wing and a prayernow we’re at the top of the stairwith our world ruled by yoursas we walk like our pets on all fours.” Think don’t think.Blink don’t blink.Stay don’t… Read more »On Election Day, let us recall election years that really mattered. . .
Related Stories “The Triumph of Bullshit” [by T. S. Eliot] Go to Source Author: The Best American PoetryCompassionate Cordiality | Krushna Chandra Mishra
Let these trying times be over And we shall find our true selves Once again that in shame and shackles We seemed to be fast losing away When the world arrayed against us In its own fabricated lies it told To make people close to us buy Versions they packed in nonsense In their own… Read more »I Love Myself | Mónika Tóth
Stars in my eyes Warmth in my heart Beauty in my soul I love myself The post I Love Myself | Mónika Tóth appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineIntroducing the New and Improved POETRY Magazine App! | by The Editors
Go to Source Author: Poetry Foundation“The Triumph of Bullshit” [by T. S. Eliot]
Did you know that T. S. Eliot wrote a poem entitled “The Triumph of Bullshit”? Neither did I until I started reading The Poems of T. S. Eliot, volume one (Farrar, Straus & Giroux), the massive tome edited by Christopher Ricks and Jim McCue in an heroic act of scholarly dedication. Of its 1311 pages, approximately nine… Read more »Ballet de Lorraine Season 2022-23 #2: a tale of sentiment and feeling [by Tracy Danison]
Loîc Touzé’s “No Oco”. Photo © Laurent Philippe There’s a lot of contrast – in chronology, in genre, in philosophy – in Ballet de Lorraine’s 2022-23 season. I expect that’s why it has opened with Loîc Touzé’s No Oco (Portuguese for “Not empty”) and Maud Le Pladec’s Static Shot. Though the choice of Le Pladec, born… Read more »Ballet de Lorraine Season 2022-23 #2: a tale of sentiment and feeling [by Tracy Danison]
Loîc Touzé’s “No Oco”. Photo © Laurent Philippe There’s a lot of contrast – in chronology, in genre, in philosophy – in Ballet de Lorraine’s 2022-23 season. I expect that’s why it has opened with Loîc Touzé’s No Oco (Portuguese for “Not empty”) and Maud Le Pladec’s Static Shot. Though the choice of Le Pladec, born… Read more »Richie Hofmann: Pick of the Week [ed.Terence Winch]
___________________________________________________________________________________________ Male Beauty I bought a bag of hard green pears today. I came home and sat in our room listening to music for hours,… Read more »Chimeric Entanglements | by Alina Stefanescu
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationLemonade | Baris Semerci
crystal clear water ordinary autumn day plan from outer space lemonade without lemon in case of emergency More at https://twitter.com/hwl76/status/1180781115017224197. The post Lemonade | Baris Semerci appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineIgnored Identities | Krushna Chandra Mishra
Ignored in ways conceived by crooks only these mighty masters building others’ fortunes have never tried to stop and ask if their own destinies could in definite ways be given certain shape and design through their own passionate and dedicated involvement as marked in their generous contributions in all these magnificent instances in raising which… Read more »Sonnet, 11/5/2019 [by Mitch Sisskind]
Sonnet, 11/5/2019 (by Mitch Sisskind) In the old days working at Republic Steel We gathered nightly at Moose Cholak’s Calumet Inn on 99th Street and Ewing. It was when polyester double-knit pants Were coming in and one night this guy Said to me, ‘No reason to worry about ‘Pants anymore what with the way these ‘Double-knit… Read more »So Lucky | Mónika Tóth
I see, the unique beauty of your soul I like your soul you are always such a beautiful kind-hearted person I am so lucky to have in my life The post So Lucky | Mónika Tóth appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineWhat Is Love | Envein
Love is something that can’t be controlled. More than a feeling, it’s a part of me. Brought out by the beauty than only i see. Yet is caged like a bird. Should i set it free? To fly through the air, to explore the skies. To perch on my shoulder and wipe the tears from… Read more »Every Moment
Every moment makes me think of a minutewhen any one of them might have changed in sixty seconds.If I was never good enough, that’s too bad.If happiness never made it, that’s sad. Evenings that went pear shaped in a moment.Days that could have been saved if nights hadn’t left them for dead.I never said anything… Read more »From Marsh Hawk Press: The Chapter One Project for November
November 2022 The Chapter One Project for November: David Lehman: “The Birth of The Best” Every September a new edition of The Best American Poetry appears, quickening pulses, provoking arguments. From one year to the next, the editor’s name on the cover is different, as is the cover art. The series editor is the one constant…. Read more »Unprepared | Geosi Gyasi
I live under a Chinese-made bridge in the city Unconcerned about the cracks of life in its walls Many years ago, before the crackdown of mushroom Houses, in city places like Sodom and Gomorrah where I used to live; my body would have rested on pure Rubbish-like mats woven by Hausa women In my new… Read more »One Day | Fotoula Reynolds
I will climb to your highest point I will stand at columns so grand I will trace your footsteps in the sand And my eyes will drink your Aegean beauty I will take in your serene landscape I will slow down and bask in the Warmth of your summer sun and I will drench myself… Read more »
Lee Wiley, “Looking at You” (1939)
“Looking at you, I’m filled with the essence of, the quintessence of, joy. Looking at you, / I hear poets tellin’ of lovely Helen of Troy.” — Cole Porter, lyric writng at its most inspired The great jazz singer Lee Wiley was part Cherokee Indian. A tall, handsome woman with olive skin and blonde hair,… Read more »Serendipity (by Mitch Sisskind)
Gramps applies unguentine and a mixture of baking soda and super glue with desenexand cera-vu moisturizing lotion over lidocaine with benadryl vitamin e vitamin c zinc andwhat have you nothing works until by chance in a littleside drawer in the bathroom looking for something elsehe discovers an old tube ofrite-aid brand cortisone-based anti-itch cream that had never been opened. what are the odds! … Read more »Mum, Why Did You Go? | Claire Mills
Mum, I miss you with all my heart. Life isn’t fair, Life took you, we had to part, I look around and don’t see you through my eyes, Now it’s just goodbyes. Mum, why did We have to say goodbye? I don’t know. What is my life now without your insight? Inside, I begin to… Read more »I Am So Glad | Mónika Tóth
I am so glad I know you in your arms I feel strong you are my hope I feel like I am born again how I love you The post I Am So Glad | Mónika Tóth appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineDimensions of a Rejection | Vera Ashton
It’s not the little memories that hurt the most, It’s not the future memories that could have been, It’s not the physical touch of your firm hand, It’s not even the lust in your eyes when I strolled through the door. It’s knowing that you have cast me aside. It’s knowing I’ve been thrown in… Read more »Child Trafficking | Ananya S. Guha
Mortgage bodies, transport children to another area for domestic work, pimping, begging and whoring. This is how we bring a new dimension to the education of child slaughter. The post Child Trafficking | Ananya S. Guha appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry Online“Band Practice” [by Terence Winch]
We have three bottles on the kitchen table. One is filled with the music of a hundred old hornpipes in the key of D that no one plays anymore. We drink and play. Pretty soon they’re no longer hornpipes, but tricky little reels from long-dead masters remembered by no one but us. We play them… Read more »Here comes the new “Hudson Review”
A magazine of historic importance, which published A. R. Ammons back in 1960. The Hudson Review, Autumn 2022 (Volume LXXV, No. 3 ESSAYS The Art of Betrayal: Translation in an Age of Suspicion Tess Lewis A Donne Deal Meg Schoerke FICTION The Hottest Summer Laura Freudenthaler Tess Lewis, trans. Two Stories Mark Jacobs POETRY From Ithaca David Lehman The Purple Box Jeffrey Harrison Limestone, with… Read more »Lucky Times | Krushna Chandra Mishra
When nothing is understood And people’s ways hold out great warnings Rule of law as rule and law only reigns When people find out how some of these were made To perpetually suppress them into silence and vivid action When they are sure that people who need think of them Instead of doing things for… Read more »Lucky Times | Krushna Chandra Mishra
When nothing is understood And people’s ways hold out great warnings Rule of law as rule and law only reigns When people find out how some of these were made To perpetually suppress them into silence and vivid action When they are sure that people who need think of them Instead of doing things for… Read more »Fish Rain | Mary Bone
A waterspout rained fish. The fish got a wild ride in a vortex, saw the clouds and some returned to the sea. The post Fish Rain | Mary Bone appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlinePotluck: Editor’s Discussion, November 2022 | by Robert Eric Shoemaker
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationFriday Night Binge in the City of London | Rose Mary Boehm
His big sweaty palm leaves a mark. She barely notices his touch. She’s on her fifth Rum and Coke Rum to get that tension down, Coke to keep you standing. Old-fashioned drink but who cares and she doesn’t do stuff. He wishes for a large ungulate and a shiny armor. It’s a sweet summer night… Read more »Before the Storm | Rose Mary Boehm
Lattice is the delicate but firm separation between two worlds. The evening sun lets almost black silhouettes undulate on her small blankets. Her tiny fingers pick holes into the stiff layer of wallpaper, where pink flowers meet pink leaves. Father has told her the story, has sung her the song. He now stands cut out… Read more »Taking a Walk | Ananya S. Guha
I walked in my little home town, after Christmas dwindling streets, people and houses. A friend shakes hand. I look the other way forgetting to wish, wanting to love and say many ecumenical things. But I have just come back from the bar, after downing two and a half gins and burying my dreams into… Read more »The Shore | Elissa Capelle Vaughn
I had a nice stay at the bottom of the ocean I fell in love with a ghost who was my only light in the darkness I followed them deeper into the sea Past the anglerfish, urchins, and eels We met a Coelacanth on the same journey to the bottom A giant squid who told… Read more »Smoke Rings (For Natalie) | Rp Verlaine
The once was is gone a rumor like smoke rings escaping your lips on a summer’s day where those thought to be in love admit defeat exhaling it As if it were the temporary renamed as forever. The post Smoke Rings (For Natalie) | Rp Verlaine appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author:… Read more »Of a Piece | Rp Verlaine
“Tell me,” she says Not wanting to know What I do/ don’t A first date since you… …as Inquisition or decision on hold To be dissected inspected or left In checkmated dread several moves ahead And I’m willing to lose If at the end, the gain Tells me I’ve achieved Something close to feeling again… Read more »Reconnaissance | Ananya S. Guha
Winter trees spiral and the grading slopes of these hills take you downhill for another reconnaissance. The post Reconnaissance | Ananya S. Guha appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineWeathering the Storms | Mary Bone
Watching the sun rise over the horizon, we had a beautiful view of the ocean. Children were finding sea shells and other treasures along the shore. We had weathered many storms before the sunshine came our way. The post Weathering the Storms | Mary Bone appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best… Read more »Selling on the edge, g’bye hoopla and two contributions: Rituel N°5, Françoise Dupuy, Laura Sheleen & Elizabeth Regina (by Tracy Danison)
The humus fanatic has it right. Once dead, our contribution evolves. Photo © Romy Alizé Rituel N°5: La Mort by Émilie Rousset and Louise Hémon produced at the Atelier de Paris earlier this month drolely and elegantly highlights how commercial culture manages to spew up a honey-mouthed and optimistic “business of death”. It has a… Read more »Quadruple Abecedarian: His First Solo Vacation” [by John Deming]
Quadruple Abecedarian : His First Solo Vacation Ancient, it seemed, Zach’s mama listening to Diz’ blow his horn; yams, cob corn, and savory chicken cooking to xantho-brown; stoic Zach on coccyx down in that wonderful yard, smelling deeply. Now everything was different. Viciously labyrinthine, the age XXXV. Formerly wed, now uncommitted, off alone to Honolulu…. Read more »Some Great Country | Celestine Key
i didn’t think it would ever come to this where I literally could not breathe because some heartless people in a faraway place were so selfish that they cared more about giant corporations giving them money and keeping them in power than for a little person like me to be able to breathe some great… Read more »Communion | Ren-Ren P. Montano
We are natives of a land that none of us owns. Yet this world offers no place; none except the outskirts, where the abominations of our kind are left undisturbed. Privilege is as rare as desert rain. The pigment of our skin is darker than fair. We are unlettered. We are voiceless. We have nothing… Read more »WITH THE SUN [by Mary Gilliland]
Want more shade? Want more sun? A plant demonstrates its answers—via height or sturdiness or angle of inclination. About the spring ephemerals, though, there’s no need to worry the question. They emerge when trees are bare of leaves. The thing about bulbs: they are easy to plant and, when conditions optimize for new growth—the slant… Read more »“Seasons in the Abyss” [by Michael Robbins]
Seasons in the Abyss Du Fu, you doofus, that’s not a goose. You’re drunk. Please allow me to introduce… no, that’s not your horse. (No, nor woman neither.) Into every life a little Freud must fall. I’m a fraud. I stole that pun. Like I said: I’m afraid. Into every light a little moth must… Read more »Photonic Heartbeats | Ron Vesci
Opening Eyes… To the Mystic Forefront… Truth’s Storefront… Indivisible Byproduct… Mass Produced… In Infinite Quantities… Only derailed by doubt and fear… Prior to self contraction… Is the Heart’s Treasure Trove of Abundance… Inside the Flow of Breath… The Peaceful Delivery… Chilling Enterprise… Dancing with Her Presence… Singing… From the Mythic Plateau… Photonic Heartbeats… Lighting the… Read more »The Girl the Birds and the Boy | Jenny Middleton
Parakeets, jade bright and lit with watery sunrise lean swiftly to their reflections as they soar through dawn, born seemingly from the tongue like twirl of willows and a tangle of dun branches that trail the river and its way. All night they have sat here- the girl, the birds and the boy, blanket wrapped… Read more »What Picasso Saw (1940)
after fifty-nine years he saw the woman with two faces there was no such thing as an ex-Catholic or an ex-Spaniard living in France first Paris with Max then back to Madrid an old guitarist what can you do with blue, blindness and the female nude with two faces Ma Jolie Fernande Eva, Gaby, Pacquerette,… Read more »It Was 50 Years Ago Today [by Lewis Saul]
And the Band didn’t begin to play anything. Actually it was 51 years ago today, which adds an extra, unwanted beat to an overworked couplet … The Composer (me), The Poet, The Joker, and The Fencer were café-hopping on a beautiful autumn evening. The place was Paris, and there were great cafés on each corner… Read more »New Departure | Stan Morrison
children fighting get adult interventions you really hurt him, so say you’re sorry give him back his toy, never do that again take turns, be kind, share with everyone time out to reflect on your behavior nations fighting seek out new alliances time out and reflection signs of weakness might makes right the eternal anthem… Read more »My Muse | Mónika Tóth
dedicated to my nice Romanian friend Vasile you are my best friend the joy shine in my eyes you are my muse the happiness shine in my eyes you are my soulmate my life is enriched like a ray of sunshine I adore you The post My Muse | Mónika Tóth appeared first on Best… Read more »Parts of a Whole | Bradley Knebworth
we were never similar about as different as could be possible yet somehow we managed to figure it out and give each other the space respect and love to blossom always there for each other two parts of a whole The post Parts of a Whole | Bradley Knebworth appeared first on Best Poetry. Go… Read more »Moon | Nancy May
moonlit skies upturn boat on the shore The post Moon | Nancy May appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineThe Amateur | by Austin Allen
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationKC Trommer: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
__________________________________________________________________________________________ Off the Roosie after O’Hara I get off the 7 and head home, past the Chase and the Jackson Heights penguin that, last week, someone dressed as a bunny, and I’m thinking of Frankie’s I-do-this-I-do-that poems, and my phone is dead again and I can’t afford to replace… Read more »Courtroom Drama | Stan Morrison
one expert identified the sneaker treads another testified about the blood spatter a producer of “forensic frenzy” took notes it was a perfectly purulent television matter a hostile witness reluctantly took the stand exhibits a to z and everything else in between the jury was either excused or sequestered objections and overrules peppered the scene… Read more »Chennai Floods | Ananya S. Guha
When rains lashed Chennai city in India, floods washed children and offered tears to them so that they could weep again, for sorrows of their ancestors and the city slept peacefully after that, as after every holocaust, there is baleful silence. No one is talking about it anymore. No one is weeping, No one is… Read more »Auden on critics
“There are people who are too intelligent to become authors, but they do not become critics.” Related Stories Three Poems by Amy Gerstler Go to Source Author: The Best American PoetryFrom the Heart | Lynn Long
We are but two strangers Across a distant shore Who share hello and nothing more Yet, still… there is beauty in this My sometimes friend My sometimes muse My light within My soulful truth Alas, of this- You know not- for I keep it secret Within my heart… More at https://www.facebook.com/beneaththemoonlight/. The post From the… Read more »Pure Creation | Heath Brougher
If you were to give us feedback on our cultivated and sincere ideas we would sooner starve to death rather than swallow one bite of your outside and unwanted mediocrity that you always attempt to poison us with. More at https://www.facebook.com/heath.brougher. The post Pure Creation | Heath Brougher appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to… Read more »Three Poems by Amy Gerstler
My Ego is a dented suit of armor, a designer gown with grimy lining. She’s the cause of false beliefs. She fucks up my ability to love. She’s prickly and tender as an artichoke heart. She proposes to me so frequently I can’t hear other people speak. She’s a self-annointed guide who materializes at my… Read more »now-then
Listening to a compilationThe Passions – I’m in love with a German film star.A song that takes me backIt really moved me and there you are. Go to Source Author: aprettykettleofpoetryMigraine | Ananya S. Guha
A migraine is nothing less or more than spilled- over memories that gnaw the mind like a rattling snake. Whenever I have one, I look for remedies like picking at my ulcers or discussing gastronomics with doctors who finally prescribe medicines And when it recurs like the proverbial last word I take refuge in wholesome… Read more »Rather a Flaccid Child | Jim Bellamy
Rather a flaccid child. Not good with his hands, he chose the high up clouds for his deceptions. Yet now he never seems to feel or smile nor any of the rainbowed raves of living placate the westward ravel of his guile, neither might the clowns of heaven save him. Once above a mind, I… Read more »star struck down
pop forgetyou earn what you getand throwing awayyour throw away lineswon’t save youlike some self-proclaimed saviouralready in printin a fish ‘n’ chips newspaper spouting off, drowningin free-flowing wordsgoing to towningthey say: ‘serves you right!’cos you couldn’tkeep your mouth water-tight facts get fictionalisedin your eyesand you say ‘really?’that’s not what I meantno comment Go to Source… Read more »Missing (2022)/Missing Person (2003)
Missing Where is she? Look for her!Why aren’t you looking for her?Her bedroom is how she left itthough a crime scene, every millimetre. Someone knows something.People don’t just vanish into thin air.Runaways might. But homebods don’t.Everybody’s going spare. Let’s look at it this way.Her face is on every street.It only takes a second to recognise… Read more »Dark Poem and or Lecture; I’m Starting to Think Some of the World’s People Lack Something; Don’t Know We Hate Our Madness, Darkness, a Poem, or Lecture | L Lawliet
I often realize this throughout my 23 years alive, what seems like many other lifetimes, past live’s in the world of people, humankind as a whole seem not to reach out to others they don’t get to know the real person behind what they show others they could be angry at the world or at… Read more »Blind Love | Mónika Tóth
your beautiful eyes pierce my heart The post Blind Love | Mónika Tóth appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry Onlinefrom “Modern Love”: XVII by George Meredith (1828-1909)
At dinner, she is hostess, I am host. Went the feast ever cheerfuller? She keeps The Topic over intellectual deeps In buoyancy afloat. They see no ghost. With sparkling surface-eyes we ply the ball: It is in truth a most contagious game: ‘Hiding the skeleton,’ shall be its name. Such play as this, the devils… Read more »from “Modern Love”: XVII by George Meredith (1828-1909)
At dinner, she is hostess, I am host. Went the feast ever cheerfuller? She keeps The Topic over intellectual deeps In buoyancy afloat. They see no ghost. With sparkling surface-eyes we ply the ball: It is in truth a most contagious game: ‘Hiding the skeleton,’ shall be its name. Such play as this, the devils… Read more »“Abecedary” [by Tom Disch]
Abecedary A is an Apple, as everyone knows. But B is a …. What do you suppose? A Bible? A Barber? A Banquet? A Bank? No, B is this Boat, the night that it sank. C is its Captain, and D is its Dory, While E – But first let me tell you a story…. Read more »Dwyer & Lehman at Parkside Lounge (317 E. Houston) Wed October 26
Related Stories Alex Perez Takes his Leave — from the “Literary Community” or from his senses? Go to Source Author: The Best American PoetryMoss Covered Shoes | Mary Bone
A pair of moss covered shoes were found in the forest. Had someone walked a mile in them? There had to be a story here. Perhaps the moss felt like carpet between someone’s toes and they left their shoes behind. The post Moss Covered Shoes | Mary Bone appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to… Read more »Alex Perez Takes his Leave — from the “Literary Community” or from his senses? [by David Lehman]
It’s no secret that literary people and humanists are reluctant to take an unpopular position that deviates from the party line. So it is noteworthy when someone pops off, refusing to yield to the forces of self-censorship. An enterprising editor named Elizabeth Ellen [left], the poet and writer who runs Hobart magazine, undertook an e-mail… Read more »Let There Be Darkness Thick | Krushna Chandra Mishra
The day dawns clear Dispelling darkness dim With eyes regaining the power They seem losing for long To see things near and far In a joyous satisfaction. Throughout the day Changing views good and bad they settle their scores To impose on the din of life a silence of death And rejoice in the blinding… Read more »Footsteps | Shelly Blankman
They didn’t hear the footsteps, not at first. The street dark, hushed, just the steady tapping of raindrops against the asphalt. Hand in hand, they ambled toward home, one immigrant, both gay, celebrating a year of firsts, a life of forevers. So much to plan before they married. Visas, lawyers, whom to tell and when…. Read more »It’s Easy to Say You Believe in Love | Samantha Davis
So you mean they’re married? The simple question leads to a complex answer of an eight year old girl, a long explanation which she is tired of answering she has nothing to be ashamed of, right? So why does the cute boy sitting next to her on the bus not understand? He isn’t dead. The… Read more »“Beauty is No Show” [by Bill Hayward]
Just in: Berlin International Art Film Festival… Related Stories Amaud Jamaul Johnson: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch] Go to Source Author: The Best American PoetryLimbo Land
Showers splatter unfinished sentencesdown from hot air word cloudsto a thunderous monotonous boom.Nothing gets better or worseas people floathanging from stringless balloons. City ring roads go round in vicious circlesand mayhem motorists get nowhere.Ring a ring a roses school children sing incessantly on repeatand no one ages beyond the moment the traffic jam stuck them… Read more »About Love | Mónika Tóth
I softly lay my lips on yours Maybe love I hold you within in my heart In my soul Every season Maybe love Dear With a simple look You took my breath away I don”t know I cry like a child The post About Love | Mónika Tóth appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to… Read more »Mountain | Spencer Bock
Males are your superior. The ones you look to for answers. They are your father, your brother, your son. But above all They are your boss. No matter your age, man is your boss. No matter your color, man is your boss. As long as you’re a woman, a man is your boss. You will… Read more »A Belated Congratulations to Emma Trelles, 9th Poet Laureate of Santa Barbara, CA
Our valued contributor Emma Trelles is the 9th Poet Laureate of Santa Barbara, and in August 2022, she was named one of 22 Poet Laureate Fellows across the country by the Academy of American Poets. The daughter of Cuban immigrants, she is the author of Tropicalia (University of Notre Dame Press), winner of the Andrés Montoya Poetry Prize and… Read more »Amaud Jamaul Johnson: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Spirit of the Dead Watching “Men are apt to idolize or fear that which they cannot understand, especially if it be a woman.” —Jean Toomer Like so many stones, a handful of jasper or black opal scattered along the banks of the Papenoo, Gauguin has fixed his eye upon a native… Read more »blood fellows behind me from my knees | L Lawliet
i one time ponder why i cant stand on my own two legs all the time i often contemplate why my knee’s are so weak that i speak these words for all to be heard. i look down at my weak knee’s , i say why are you so weak when i have all this… Read more »Love Is Everything | Raquel Averill
Love is everything Love is all Love is the thing that gets you up in the morning Sustains you through the night Provides sustenance to your soul Fill your life with it Enjoy its wonderful bounty Relish it Without love there is nothing And it starts with you The post Love Is Everything | Raquel… Read more »“Dictionary of Omissions” [by Boris Dralyuk]
Dictionary of Omissions “The chief shortcoming of the Dictionary is, paradoxically, that it is so good that one wishes it were larger…” — Modern Language Review The atlas of my sunken continents, the empty bowl I used to keep my fish in, the shoebox of expired pawn tickets, and this, my Dictionary of Omissions…. Read more »Prod. Tox | Raven Van Blizz
A place filled with toxicity. Influence speaks with fluency. Flaws are under scrutiny. Opinions are mutiny. Gossiping is trendy and always up to date. Colleagues are user-friendly, greedy and full of hate. If only I could stay at home with no worries or headache, I would. But it would be best to stay calm while… Read more »When Princess Sleeps | Mary Bone
When Princess sleeps there is no sound. Her dreams are deep. Castles in clouds on mountain tops. She gets waited on when her shoes drop to the ground. This is what dreams are made of. The post When Princess Sleeps | Mary Bone appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineThe Waste Land at 100 | by Robert Eric Shoemaker
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationPlatonic Love | PYG’s Whisper
True love never dies Loyal souls never change Don’t distort the beauty of fairy tales Don’t blame it on life Don’t blame it on you Don’t fake your heart ‘Cause I won’t do Thought you were my angel So I gave you my wings Now you’re ready to fly? I whined hey wait But you’re… Read more »Time’s Burden | Satish Verma
I am not too well, he felt. The flames chased him in charred landscape. Fighting over, he pondered about the crime within, the surge to find a nest hole. A wounded pride where the salmonella hits. You enter a slot for more enticements. Any patch of vague tragedy among the barren desirability, shares the accident… Read more »“Double Agents: Lynn Chu and Glen Hartley” [by Kelly Jane Torrance]
Hartley recalls the course’s “wonderful teacher,” Donald Levine, AB’50, AM’54, PhD’57. He has even more vivid memories of his feisty fellow Burton-Judson resident. “Lynn was always very good at debating,” he says. “I’m a very argumentative and opinionated person,” Chu agrees. He studied English, while she majored in geography and went on to the Law… Read more »On Richard Howard’s Birthday
Twice, for the fall semesters of 1991 and 1993, I rented Richard Howard’s flat (5X, as in Xanadu) in the Waverly Mews (“but in your case it should be spelled m-u-s-e”). Richard taught at the University of Houston in the fall and I needed a place in the city and was wilgling to be kidded… Read more »Just Once | Michael Tasker
just once i wish something would work out that there wouldn’t be some problem that things would go smoothly that i wouldn’t have to jump through extra hoops that luck would go my way instead of against me The post Just Once | Michael Tasker appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best… Read more »Armed and Dangerous | Maddie Paulus
Two men run down the sidewalk, white chases black and a gun cocks The white man yells stop, bystanders hear a loud pop, and the front man drops Witnesses call cops and stand in silent shock, The cops come but They ignore that the street pools with red; they handcuff the man who lies still,… Read more »“Poem of a New Driver” by Belinda Rule [Introduced by Thomas Moody]
Last weekend, the Bathurst 1000, Australia’s most famous race, was won by Holden drivers Shane van Ginsbergen and Garth Tander. It was a historic victory as it was the final Bathurst 1000 to feature Holden, the iconic car manufacturer of Australian classics including the Kingswood and Commodore. Holden was the last remaining Australian car company,… Read more »LATER FLOWERS FOR THE BEES [by Mary Gilliland]
I garden at the end of a one-block cul de sac. This area bordering the woods is classified on the municipal maps as vacant land. Yes, it’s poetry. The gardens are anything but decorous, or planned. Strays are welcome. Wild volunteers turn out whimsical or handsome. Some alight of their own volition, or via bird… Read more »“Ode to Poking Around” [by Catherine Woodard]
“I wish to speak a word for the art of poking around,” begins philosopher and nature writer Kathleen Dean Moore in a fine art book beautifully built around her essay by lone goose press. I wish to speak a word for the artistry… Read more »Where I Can Breathe… | Ananya S. Guha
The day is at once at tandem with tepid sun, winter’s discomfiture, or feature. Outside the room music blares, Christmas is near children squabble, then singing. Sighs, life takes historical movement, years lapse and then these visuals. The town hasn’t changed much except for the number of boisterous cars, and pedestrians manipulating ways, hands up… Read more »Where I Can Breathe… | Ananya S. Guha
The day is at once at tandem with tepid sun, winter’s discomfiture, or feature. Outside the room music blares, Christmas is near children squabble, then singing. Sighs, life takes historical movement, years lapse and then these visuals. The town hasn’t changed much except for the number of boisterous cars, and pedestrians manipulating ways, hands up… Read more »Making It to the Top | Mary Bone
We’ve made it through a hard, uphill climb, just to make another dime. We do what we have to do, putting up with hullabaloo, just to make it to the top. After we get there, we never stop. The post Making It to the Top | Mary Bone appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to… Read more »Three Amateur Poems [by Lewis Saul, Rachel Saul and Jordan Schifino]
MEMO FROM THE BIG G Dear Whiskey-Tango-Foxtrot crowd: Your tin-foil hats are melting My glaciers And dripping down your Collective Consciousness Raising hell with my hosts You’re mucking around in the mud And I’m thinking about breaking my promise To Noah And bringing about a flood A Hallelujah-type event that only Four people will… Read more »Marsh Hawk Press Presents: Joanne Dominique Dwyer and David Lehman, Wed. Oct. 26, 2022
Marsh Hawk Press Presents: Joanne Dominique Dwyer and David Lehman Wednesday, October 26, 2022 6:00 – 8:00 pm at Parkside Lounge 317 E Houston St, New York, NY 10002 “Joanne Dominique Dwyer is an exceptionally talented poet, whose mind in motion on every page in Rasa gives pleasure. She writes that “Intimacy means profoundly… Read more »Your Lips | Mónika Tóth
your soul is lyrical line your heart is magnanimous your eyes are fire your look is great your lips are wonderful path your smile is beautiful shining The post Your Lips | Mónika Tóth appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlinePolitician’s Speech– an Indian Story | Ananya S. Guha
I will give you freedom and of course bread with freedom some money with money some honey laced with wine with the best sets to dine your homes will be changed you will have parlors and beauties, and change, transformation will be key words of your ditties the ballot box is very near innocent creature,… Read more »Not Rocket Science
I’m not the type to make a scene now maybebut little things might make me go just crazy.I keep myself to myself.It’s good for my healthbut may well like just kill me. The funny thing is that I joke about itbut something tells me that my smile’s just carpet.I have no need to impressjust need… Read more »Good Day
If you were me, what would you be? Would you be recounting?Lying on the carpet with my box of scrap-metal matchbox cars,counting blocks and abacus beads for countingthat never did me much good later on in bars. Today, I thought to myself as I was happily driving alonghow great life is and how thinking otherwise… Read more »Censorship | Baris Semerci
surfing internet reluctant self censorship rewritten poems sarcastic sense of humour hidden in innocent words More at https://twitter.com/hwl76/status/1170299695702454272. The post Censorship | Baris Semerci appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineFrom Poet to Critic and Back Again | by Timothy Yu
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationElisa Gabbert: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
photo by Adalena Kavanagh _________________________________________________ Bright & Distant Objects I read a headline that said, “Human hair behind pigeons’ lost toes, study finds.” I thought it meant that pigeons were growing human hair. . . behind their… Read more »Stop the Rain | Envein
The girl i loved left me just the other day. My visions and dreams have all been taken away. Leaving me with grief and sorrow to bear. Life ain’t easy and love isn’t fair. My tears are falling like the rain Clouding my visions of tomorrow Darkened skies add to the pain No I’ll never… Read more »No Relief in Sight | Envein
My life is like a tunnel and I’m searching for an end. Walking in the darkness alone without a friend. Looking for an answer, searching for some light. I cant escape the misery. There’s no relief in sight. The post No Relief in Sight | Envein appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author:… Read more »The Cartel Acadamy [by Armin Rosen]
One key difference between now and the 1920s, when the last largescale movement to exclude Jews from American campus life happened, is that Jews now lead and hold prestigious tenured chairs at major American universities, which host entire academic departments devoted to Jewish life and learning. That thousands of Jewish faculty and administrators, as individuals… Read more »In the new “Southern Review”: Poems by Terence Winch
Fallen World You never cry anymore. The trees don’t make you weep. The baseball season has almost gone missing, but you aren’t really concerned. You can’t go anywhere. There is a world of free love, grocery stores, off-track betting shops, and farmers markets. But that world has slipped into another dimension, like when you hang… Read more »Slums; All Years | Jim Bellamy
slums, all years; and the stars which rise console you if they would. words are said which sully with fears their fled disguise. and the night must blood the lunacies it lives. to these faceless passions, i make word thief:- even so distant, i can taste the grief, bitter and sharp with stalks, he made… Read more »Nightmares | Craig Warburton
I go to bed and want to sleep And wake up when alarm goes beep Some nights they do just stay away On others they come out to play Bolt upright and grab my head Screaming loudly in my bed I’ve been attacked I’m pretty sure I nearly break the bedroom door To a mirror… Read more »Ron Charles in the Washington Post on BAP 2022
Want to read more contemporary poetry but don’t know where to begin? For expert curation and variety, you can’t do better than “The Best American Poetry 2022,” edited this year by Matthew Zapruder. These 75 poems are arranged alphabetically from Aria Aber to Jenny Zhang, including Terrance Hayes, Sharon Olds, Louise Glück, Diane Seuss, Ada… Read more »Angry Father | Craig Warburton
An open palm descends on back Dealt with force a hefty smack Then another just as bad I’m scared, upset, a broken lad Stinging skin that’s turned bright red What goes on inside his head? For him to hit me quite so hard Then tell me not to be so mard The anger in his… Read more »Little Turtle | Mary Bone
Little turtle peeked out from underneath his shell. He decided to venture forth on a stormy day. He had a little flashlight to light his way. The post Little Turtle | Mary Bone appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineSteady My Laden Head [by Mary Gilliland]
The hours don’t count, I don’t count the hours. This is not a task but an activity. Unassigned. A practically involuntary part of the day, sowing itself in my unconscious during times I might not be physically involved. I’m winging it, without formal education. It looks like I have chosen to engage, but really the… Read more »Yom Kippur, Grand Concourse, Bronx, 1948 [by Stacey Harwood-Lehman]
Renee and Huy Harwood, my parents, eager to end the Yom Kippur fast. — sdl Related Stories BAP 2009: The Gala Launch [by Liz Howort] Go to Source Author: The Best American PoetryScurrying Home | Ananya S. Guha
You have never known serpentine streets which backlash winter’s withering cold, and the hills grow, tall masts overhead summoning that change will outgrow change and metamorphosis will be people in jackets in armoury, look strange behave with poignancy their smile takes a blast with the wind, they scurry home beggars on streets can only hope… Read more »Silent Symphony | Kandice Johnson
Do you honestly believe I am your muse? To write and compose The melodies of my agony I’m not your sheet of music My suffering is not Your notes for you to choose And to be honest Only a man Of dishonor And bad taste Would conduct a symphony Playing my tears of pain Boasting… Read more »In Praise of Bruno (1983)
Two redheads having a much-needed snooze in Ludlowville (July 1983). Related Stories BAP 2009: The Gala Launch [by Liz Howort] Go to Source Author: The Best American PoetryThe New York School Diaspora (Part Thirty-Six): Clarence Major [by Angela Ball]
Photograph of a Gathering of People Waving –based on an old photograph bought in a shop at Half Moon Bay, summer, 1999… Read more »Tweet Dreams | Ivan Jenson
A revelation will dawn on civilization like the second coming or the twelfth hour arrival of the prophecy promised by various dusty non-digital books and this sermon will amount to a hill of hallelujahs and certain sects will say “I told you so” and others will say “how could I know?” and the stoners and… Read more »
REBEL, Jean-Féry (1666-1747) [by Lewis Saul]
Les Élémens 1. Le Chaos listen: Stuttgarter Kammerorchester Thomas Zehetmair, cond. Baroque music is pleasing to the ear. Bach was the master of delicious polyphony and beautiful part-writing. Handel, Telemann and Vivaldi are crisp and to the point. Rameau and Scarlatti wrote some of the greatest, technically difficult, and exciting keyboard works of all time…. Read more »Labyrinth | Eliza Segiet
In the vortex of dance, wandering in the labyrinth of time she saw the ephemerality of existence. Today turns into yesterday as in the Heraklite river – fluid, smooth. Although trees live longer than humans, slouching between them one can see the scattered dandelions. And behind a tall wall of boxwood there is everything one… Read more »I’ve Tried to Tell You | Matthias Rupertsson
I’ve tried to tell you But you won’t listen, That’s the way you are, You say what you want to say And nobody else’s opinion matters. I see your face shut down, How hard you become when You close your heart and Block out all the sunlight, Hanging on to the illusion of control. I’m… Read more »Demolition | Mary Bone
Underneath bark and wooden planks, termites gnaw and chew destroying homes, making burrows. Tunnels appear as they make their own homes. The post Demolition | Mary Bone appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry OnlineCelebrating POETRY at 110! | by The Editors
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationA Petition to Recognize International Porcupine Quill Poking Day: Editor’s Discussion, October 2022 | by The Editors and Robert Eric Shoemaker
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationThe Failed Azaleas | by Alina Stefanescu
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationJack Skelley: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch]
Jack Skelley, photo by Gary Leonard ______________________________________________________ Green Goddess Who made the salad Whose tangy vinegar made me wince Who played pouty Venus to my impudent Caesar Who taught me to renounce meat Who flowed forth lubricants… Read more »I Disappear… | Jim Bellamy
i disappear into the nape of my head wide birds hiss after ashen gates- kids peer under worm-wearied ghost gibs o as we suck a burned nut then lost light drops us under golden graves- & night scatters female power? berried saints stopped here. More at https://jimbellamy.simplesite.com. The post I Disappear… | Jim Bellamy appeared… Read more »If You Knew | Mikayla Wyndham
If you knew where I’ve been I bet you would turn away, Avert your eyes, move Imperceptibly farther away, So unpleasant is my story. I’d like to share it with you But I know you can’t handle it, Just like most things. I guess I’ll just continue pretending That we’re a couple and Dream of… Read more »
Quote of the Day: Vladimir Samoylovich Horowitz (1903-1989)
Born on this day, 1903, in Kyiv, Ukraine. “Always there should be a little mistake here and there – I am for it. The people who don’t do mistakes are cold like ice. It takes risk to make a mistake. If you don’t take risk, you are boring.” — sdl Related Stories BAP… Read more »Over and Over | Vera Ashton
She sits at her desk, refreshing the page. Over and over again. Trying to gather information. From the empty pages. The black and empty void, The terror in her heart, The anxiety in her stomach, The fog in her brain. She knows she is torturing herself. But she sits at her desk, looking at the… Read more »Oceana (Redux) | Kenneth Vincent Walker
Dare I enter the ocean Of your tranquil eyes Submerging its depths Like a delirious diver? Upon holding my breath An intense passion arises As I bask in sheer beauty Soaked in all its surprises. I’m entranced by your kiss Loitering about in my mind. My heart fiercely beating a Pitter-patter out of time In… Read more »A Brighter Burn | Jenny Middleton
That night the light was slow A faint glimmer before a brighter burn. The singed green shade twisting in the faint breeze mouthed through half open windows. I’d got up, too hot to sleep, too tired really, for those ends of things that tangle a mind’s late thoughts when a moth traced the vagueness at… Read more »We Meet | Mónika Tóth
dedicated to my nice Romanian friend Vasile The ink The ink flows I write for you and I confess The truth is We meet Two beautiful heart Two beautiful soul Together we compose The best of poems The post We Meet | Mónika Tóth appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry… Read more »BAP 2009: The Gala Launch [by Liz Howort]
The Best American Poetry 2009 gala launch reading on Thursday, September 24 [2009] featured prize-winning poets (such as John Ashbery, Billy Collins, Mark Doty, and Richard Howard), but it will also be remembered for the record-breaking number of readers, twenty-one poets in all, some traveling from as far as California, Seattle, Cincinnati, and Kalamazoo. The… Read more »Wednesdays with Denise [by Denise Duhamel]
For this ‘Wednesdays with Denise,” I point you in the direction of Gulf Stream, Florida International University’s national literary magazine for which I am a faculty advisor. Here’s a throwback to Ashley M. Jones (an alum of FIU’s MFA program and now Alabama’s Poet Laureate) interviewing David Lehman about the prose poem: https://gulfstreamlitmag.com/archives/online-archives/online-8/features-8/gulf-stream-interviews-david-lehman/ Our latest issue… Read more »HomeHumanMachineFailureSpiral | by Anthony Cody
Go to Source Author: Poetry FoundationNested | Christine Emmert
Without wings I sit, high in the palm of the tree, looking down on earth beneath where others walk. I would fly away as snow drops but the white chastity of winter spreads around the landscape until it is lost. And what have I found here? A perch above that which is taken. The post… Read more »Paris I’ve Never Visited | Ananya S. Guha
Paris I’ve never visited only the uncanny wind whispered how a city was embattled with ashes coming out of a theatre. Where music thundered to heart beats where men sieged a house set it on fire immolated a lost civilization, and meanings of life, beauty, love were left smouldering, in ashes of ruin. Where politics… Read more »