Let’s wind up Let’s regress I don’t like the state The way it is I have no voice Or one I don’t use I think for myself When they tell me to The great freedom Hangs just in front Of the crowd whose Hands won’t snatch it.
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Those who cravenly succumb To acceptance of wrongness Are they who ignobly uphold The scales of injustice The post Scales of Injustice | Camille Rose Castillo appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry Online
Here’s the extended version from 1973, all ten minutes of it: the studio version: 1959: Related Stories Bobby Darin sings Beyond the Sea (studio version & in performance) Go to Source Author: The Best American Poetry
There never was the demon I sought in childhood or the dragon, the rabbit I read of in Blyton’s books or the skyscrapers I thought the city had, I’ve found them now in my whittled thoughts. The post There Never Was… | Ananya S. Guha appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best…
I wish I were a flower. Beautiful, cherished, and loved. But instead, I’m a weed. Part of nature, but people view them as a nuisance. They grow, unwanted in little gardens. Take up room, in which a pretty flower may grow instead. People don’t care about stepping on them and pulling out their roots from…
With the directness of paint-thinner, Louise Carter’s “Marrickville” strips away at the euphemisms and self-told fictions a young poet must decorate her life with to sustain her vocation. A share house is “a glorified squat for people / who don’t want to pay full rent”. The poem takes its name from a historically working-class neighborhood…
Pete reads a story about an artist who never sold a painting until he was 80 and then sold one for a million dollars. Finding the artist on the internet, Pete says his work is just odd shapes in bright colors. Another Jackson Pollock, Pete says, whose work Pete views as dry paint dripping, an…
