Poetry

  • Most Topular Stories

  • Swan By Albert Goldbarth

    Poem of the Day
    Poetry Foundation
    21 Jul 2014 | 11:00 pm
    By Albert Goldbarth
  • Worksop: Annual Town poem could win you A 1,000

    Poetry News
    22 Jul 2014 | 6:23 am
    A poem about Worksop or another town in your circulation area could win 1,000 in a free poetry competition.
  • Christopher "Jelly" Stanley - On Learning

    IndieFeed: Performance Poetry
    21 Jul 2014 | 12:00 am
    Christopher "Jelly" Stanley on IndieFeed Performance Poetry.  Show number 1364.
  • NinaAlvarez.net Listed in Top 100 Inspiring Sites for Poets

    Poem of the Day
    Nina Alvarez
    15 Jul 2014 | 11:46 am
    A collection of inspiring sites for poets and poetry has been published, and Poem of the Day is acknowledged on the list: http://mastersinenglish.org/poetry/ It’s an incredible honor. Many thanks, Master in English! (And many thanks to my actual masters in English. I’m still paying for you, so… keep it up.)Filed under: words
  • every ice cream topping in the world

    Wade on Birmingham » Daily Haiku
    Wade Kwon
    21 Jul 2014 | 10:00 pm
    The bowl could barely hold the sprinkles, cereal, chocolate chips and nuts. Read more haiku. Subscribe via RSS to Wade’s Daily Haiku. Or have it delivered daily by e-mail.
 
 
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    Poem of the Day

  • NinaAlvarez.net Listed in Top 100 Inspiring Sites for Poets

    Nina Alvarez
    15 Jul 2014 | 11:46 am
    A collection of inspiring sites for poets and poetry has been published, and Poem of the Day is acknowledged on the list: http://mastersinenglish.org/poetry/ It’s an incredible honor. Many thanks, Master in English! (And many thanks to my actual masters in English. I’m still paying for you, so… keep it up.)Filed under: words
  • Poem of the Day: Be a Sparrow

    Nina Alvarez
    13 May 2014 | 2:04 pm
    When we are soft – when the world is underneath us; when we are lost with longing Be a sparrow. You knew before you knew all else that this was artifice – and you searched for self-instruction. You learned to search for what was yours beyond modesty and immodesty. Be that person again – with a broken wing – if there was ever truth in you, find it now. Be true to that which is best in you, and rides during the Spring, and mounts in its own language. Be true to that which is highest born in you. Let it all be alive in the alchemy. Be choice. Be free and free, sister, in what was not…
  • Poem of the Day: I Thank You God For Most This Amazing

    Nina Alvarez
    20 Apr 2014 | 8:41 pm
    i thank You God for most this amazing day:for leaping greenly spirits of trees and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything which is natural which is infinite which is yes (i who have died am alive again today, and this is the sun’s birthday;this is the birth day of life and of love and wings:and of the gay great happening illimitably earth) how should tasting touching hearing seeing breathing any–lifted from the no of allnothing–human merely being doubt unimaginable You? (now the ears of my ears awake and now the eyes of my eyes are opened) — e.e. cummings  …
  • Top 10 Poems of 2013

    Nina Alvarez
    30 Dec 2013 | 8:56 am
    And here it is. For the 6th year in a row, the TOP 10 POEMS of the year at NinaAlvarez.net. Thanks for being here. Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and Vive le Poetry! 1. Ithaca 2. I Walked a Mile with Pleasure 3. The Lost Son 4. Ithaca (Video) 5. from Last Poems 6. What You Should Know to be a Poet 7. The Unicorn 8. The Serpent 9. Deathless Aphrodite of the Spangled Mind 10. Love Me Like You Never Loved Before   Thanks for nearly seven years of enjoying poetry together here at NinaAlvarez.net. I am a professionally produced playwright, award-winning poet,…
  • Poem of the Day: To You

    Nina Alvarez
    27 Dec 2013 | 1:11 pm
    Whoever you are, I fear you are walking the walks of dreams, I fear these supposed realities are to melt from under your feet and hands, Even now your features, joys, speech, house, trade, manners, troubles, follies, costume, crimes, dissipate away from you, Your true soul and body appear before me, They stand forth out of affairs, out of commerce, shops, work, farms, clothes, the house, buying, selling, eating, drinking, suffering, dying. Whoever you are, now I place my hand upon you, that you be my poem, I whisper with my lips close to your ear, I have loved many women and men, but I love…
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    Wade on Birmingham » Daily Haiku

  • every ice cream topping in the world

    Wade Kwon
    21 Jul 2014 | 10:00 pm
    The bowl could barely hold the sprinkles, cereal, chocolate chips and nuts. Read more haiku. Subscribe via RSS to Wade’s Daily Haiku. Or have it delivered daily by e-mail.
  • the ground is leaking

    Wade Kwon
    20 Jul 2014 | 10:00 pm
    The broken pipe let out a gurgling cry for help to the blacktop street. Read more haiku. Subscribe via RSS to Wade’s Daily Haiku. Or have it delivered daily by e-mail.
  • the potato salad express

    Wade Kwon
    20 Jul 2014 | 6:20 pm
    They inched forward, with hunger pangs and nostrils full of sweet hickory. Read more haiku. Subscribe via RSS to Wade’s Daily Haiku. Or have it delivered daily by e-mail.
  • the nine

    Wade Kwon
    18 Jul 2014 | 10:00 pm
    They sit in judgment, among us but above us, the law in their hands. Read more haiku. Subscribe via RSS to Wade’s Daily Haiku. Or have it delivered daily by e-mail.
  • square feet squared

    Wade Kwon
    17 Jul 2014 | 10:00 pm
    The tiny house grew room by room, floor by floor, to be a McMansion. Read more haiku. Subscribe via RSS to Wade’s Daily Haiku. Or have it delivered daily by e-mail.
 
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    GotPoetry.com News

  • Clark County high school students are invited to submit original...

    22 Jul 2014 | 2:48 am
    Clark County high school students are invited to submit original poems for the Vegas Valley Book Festival Spark! 2014 Poetry Writing and Recitation Competition. The deadline is September 2. Students will have the opportunity to recite their poetry during the Vegas Valley Book Festival, on October 18. Link!
  • Festival poet-in-residence hosts workshop for kids

    21 Jul 2014 | 7:48 pm
    Poetry News: With the sun shining, kids writing, brains working and parents lurking, Lancaster Festival poet-in-residence Nicole Sealey helped children create their own poetry.Link!
  • Stories shed at energetic poetry slam

    21 Jul 2014 | 4:44 pm
    Poetry News: Cat Abenstein from Regina performs a piece of poetry during the second round at the Saskatchewan Festival of Words' poetry slam competition on July 18, 2014 at the Mae Wilson Theatre at the Moose Jaw Cultural Centre.Link!
  • Hainault pupils from Forest Academy set to become published poets

    21 Jul 2014 | 4:12 pm
    Poetry News: Forest Academy School poetry winners : Asha Abdi, Zainab Arowoshaye, Chanice Barrow-Francis, Zoe Howard, Laiba Khalil, Angel Mckenzie, Camilla Mohamed, David Oyelami, Kristofer Smith, Natalie Stoker, Rhiannon Todd, Nelly Wreden and Veronica Zafirova Promising pupils are due to become published poets after their work on conflict and war impressed at ... (more)Link!
  • Valerie Macon resigns from Poet Laureate appointment after uproar

    21 Jul 2014 | 4:11 pm
    Macon states her passion for poetry and self-expression. She also mildly echoes McCrory's accusation of critics as elitists in writing that neither publishing ...Link!
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    Poetry of Life

  • Lost at Sea

    Praveen Kumar
    15 Jul 2014 | 12:22 am
    as the sun sets down on the horizon, i sit back up, trying to get a glimpse, of the journey ahead, in this vast, lifeless world! I am like a sailor, lost at sea, riding wave after wave of what the sea could throw at me, struggling to remain sane yet fighting hard to stay […]
  • Fear of Life

    Praveen Kumar
    10 Jun 2014 | 5:35 am
    I stare at the blank page, trying to write the thousand and one thoughts running through my mind; as i think to myself, about all that was, all that is and all that will be; fear takes over my senses, clouding my thoughts, fear of the unknown, fear of life; sometimes i want to run […]
  • You and Me

    Praveen Kumar
    12 Feb 2014 | 11:28 pm
    Happy Valentine’s Day! This poem is written for her. Just you and me, hand in hand overlooking the gentle waves, with the bright moon and stars in full display, we stand hand in hand; as the night crawls on, i remember the day when you swept me off my feet, into the canyons of love […]
  • New Year, New Beginnings?

    Praveen Kumar
    2 Jan 2014 | 12:00 am
    Its a brand new year for a brand new beginning, but as i rejoice, i find myself drawn into a deep, dark corner, far away from the happiness and joy that graces the occasion. A brand new beginning with new fears and new tears, a faceless enemy waiting for the one mistake, waiting and watching […]
  • Somewhere I Belong?

    Praveen Kumar
    8 Oct 2013 | 6:15 am
    lonely, confused and sad, it feels as if i was just a shadow of the day, in light i exist and in darkness, i am gone! what am i searching for? when i have nothing else to search for! surrounded by all sides, i try my best to survive, but i have only 2 hands! […]
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    Poems and Poetics

  • Homero Aridjis: [On Riding the Beast]

    Jerome Rothenberg
    19 Jul 2014 | 5:53 am
    The search for asylum winds through Mexico[note. Aridjis of course is a major Mexican poet & environmental activist, & his close account of the border refugee crisis calls further attention to the longer & more difficult part of the journey that the refugees have undertaken.   It seems to me important to see what has been happening in a context other than its relation to domestic United Statespolitics or its coverage by the entertainment news media that so much dominates our political & social thinking & reporting.  Homero’s account appeared first in The…
  • Peter Quartermain: “Incompletable Text,” a view of Jerome Rothenberg’s Eye of Witness (Part Two)

    Jerome Rothenberg
    15 Jul 2014 | 6:13 am
    [Part One of the Quartermain essay can be found hereon Poems and Poetics.  His complete view of Eye of Witness will appear early in 2015 in the twentieth issue of Lou Rowan’s Golden Handcuff’s Review, a major repository of poetry & poetics moving from one century & millennium to another.]There is indeed a politics in this, the politics of a “work intended – above all – to question and disrupt the power of dominant European discourse” (169); it underlies the whole of Eye of Witness and is a well-spring, and the rhetoric, embodying as it does Rothenberg’s persistent…
  • Geoffrey Squires: Five poems from “Irish Poetry 600-1200” (a work in progress)

    Jerome Rothenberg
    11 Jul 2014 | 5:44 am
    [Following his remarkable translations of the great Persian poet Hafez, Squires has embarked on an assemblage of translations from Old Irish, “the oldest vernacular poetry in Europe.”  Its relation to what John Bloomberg-Rissman & I have been assembling as outside & subterranean poetry should also be noted. (J.R.)]   1Over the sea comes Adzeheadoff his headwith a hole in his cloak for his headand a stick with a bent headhe stands in front of a table in front of his houseintoning impietiesand his followers all respondamen       amenTicfa…
  • Eric Sarner translated by Pierre Joris: An extract from “Experience of Water” in Coeur Chronique

    Jerome Rothenberg
    7 Jul 2014 | 5:50 am
    [a note from pierre joris posted originally on his nomadics blog 6/11/2014.]  “In Paris now, on the day of the opening of the Marché de la Poésie, a great yearly 4 day event. One major pleasure will be to meet up with old friend Eric Sarner. I had been very happy to learn a couple months ago that this excellent poet, my good friend & sometime translator, was awarded the Prix Max Jacob 1914 for his latest book of poetry, Coeur Chronique published by the Castor Astral with a preface by Michel Deguy. Sarner is a true nomad who lives between Berlin,…
  • Peter Quartermain: “Incompletable Text,” a view of Jerome Rothenberg’s Eye of Witness (Part One)

    Jerome Rothenberg
    3 Jul 2014 | 5:49 am
    [What follows is the first part of Peter Quartermain’s response to Eye of Witness, an in-depth view that leads me into & beyond areas of my work that needed & still need (for me at least) viewing & addenda from the outside.  Quartermain’s essay is scheduled to appear early in 2015 in Lou Rowan’s Golden Handcuff’s Review (GHR 20), so this is an opportunity to put it into circulation closer to the publication late last year of Eye of Witness & to turn attention to Golden Handcuffs as well.  The second half of Quartermain’s piece will appear…
 
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    Wild Horses Of Fire

  • The Gift of Death

    Thom Donovan
    7 Jul 2014 | 7:23 am
    It's the opening. We're basking in language itself. The silence of my friend. My love. The one beyond words in her silence.Eileen MylesLucy, when you waited until we got to the vet’s office to bleed-out on me, and when I thought that your blood was piss or shit pooling in my flip-flop, this was so typical of you, you never whimpered until that last day, your “one bad day” the vet kept repeating in hopes of consoling meIn this totally unsanitary way all I wanted was to mix your blood with mine, keep feeling its warmth on my foot and not wash it off, the memories of the dead being what…
  • Robert Kocik's A Book of Protections & AUSKO (gain)

    Thom Donovan
    6 Jul 2014 | 4:41 am
    In celebration of Ubiquitous Dividend at this year's River to River Festival (sponsored by the Lower Manhattan Cultural Counsel and Poets House) ON has produced a companion volume to Robert Kocik's SUPPLE SCIENCE. A Book of Protections includes reproductions of drawings Kocik composed in fall 2013, for the pre-order of SUPPLE SCIENCE. For more information about Ubiquitous Dividend go here and here. We are also posting a PDF of one of Kocik's earliest works, AUKSO (gain), published by Robert Fitterman's Object magazine in 1995, including an afterword by Stacy Doris. AUKSO…
  • It's night in San Francisco but it's Sunny in Oakland

    Thom Donovan
    6 Jul 2014 | 4:11 am
    Preorder hereWhat would it mean to take a snapshot of a large and various literary milieu after a moment of intense activism and struggle? It’s night in San Francisco but it’s sunny in Oakland includes a fair amount of post/Occupy poems, but also writings which channel the historical exigencies of Bay Area poetics—from SF Renaissance, through Beat, New Narrative, Lang Po, and less identifiable movements and genealogies. Many of these poems remind us that we are in a time after ‘the event’ in which life inevitably goes on, and more reflective modalities…
  • Archive of the Now page

    Thom Donovan
    12 Jun 2014 | 3:48 am
    http://www.archiveofthenow.org/authors/?i=174
  • Notebook 3/2012

    Thom Donovan
    11 Jun 2014 | 3:39 am
    Exercise for a disabled practice1.     Imagine your daily routine. What is something you do everyday that you take for granted? A movement? A way of interacting with others in space? How is the world around you constructed to accommodate this way of being in the world? How does language facilitate this experience?4.     Design an exercise based on your daily routines—movement, language use, ways that you engage your senses, etc. Instruct yourself (or a body similar to yours) on how to make your environment unfamiliar. What constraints or procedures could…
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    A window Within Myself

  • ~Adnan~

    7 Jul 2014 | 3:25 am
    Have you ever been handed over a baby and was given a task to take care of it at young age. Well 20 for me was young age and there I was an assistant teacher in Al Noor Centre for children with Disability. There he was glittering eyes angelic face , tiny body with of weight of a leaf. So tiny in size, his body age was 1 year child. He was 7 years old. That is Adnan when he arrived the first time at school a child with cerebral palsy. He was born with a physical disability, all I knew back then Adnan has physical disability that you could not even put him in a wheelchair. His bone were so…
  • Clenched

    23 Jun 2014 | 3:13 am
    The pain is tangledClenched so tightReleasing is a dream This pain resists Dwelling within pettinessYet to unlet go Takes hands of your soul To safely untie What once has been forgottenSimple Happiness
  • When Literature Heals: Nasra Al Adawi’s

    23 Jun 2014 | 3:03 am
    Book Review When Literature Heals: Nasra Al Adawi’s Brave Faces Nasra Al Adawi, Brave Faces: The Daring Stand Against Cancer. Muscat: Oman Printers, 2007. Unlike many writers who define literary creativity as a mere outlet for détente and self-indulgence, or perhaps an escape from the self and its unbearable limitations and frustrations, Nasra Al Adawi, an emerging poet from the Sultanate of Oman, can be confidently ranked among engaged writers who use their literary talent as a vehicle for altruistic expression and as an effective inspirational conduit for reaching out to those who need…
  • Broken ..

    2 Apr 2014 | 12:40 pm
    You found meA broken wall But I'm more than that I'm a shattered heart Still the hands thats pulls me downDedicated in demolishing my wallBut I'm still untouched As my soul is higher than that 
  • Amidst of soul breath

    30 Mar 2014 | 11:57 am
    silence calling silence
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    Sad Poems

  • Four Way Stops

    20 Jul 2014 | 8:40 pm
    the measured autonomy of silence is swift. a grave architect. all dry mortar and wet bricks. the hum of construction in dead ends and open drawbridges. death is never about the grave. only what's left. the distance wears her. pink cheeks and stained denim. she wanders. the leash forgotten. finding only new versions of lost. colorful and arrogant. as are all disappointments. the religion of skin is persistant. though less than reliable. there are never words enough. there are never the right colors. to prove those monsters exist. so we just bark. like dogs. frightened by all the noises too big…
  • Shades of When

    16 Jul 2014 | 8:56 pm
    her soft words. her hard decisions. the temperamental flood that is reason. all salt and confession. in dull needles and inadequate medicines. the obvious disease. the whisper of touch. struggles to focus. on objects much too close. a verbose silence wonders under her breath. epiphany's dense suicides. come rapidly and random. expectations are paper. a microcosm of wrinkled graves. time is a whore. sour pleasures festering in the remnants of sultry fever. more surrender than submission. if such a distinction can still be made. her fingers scraping the fissure. all marrow and old bruises.
  • Yesterday's Oligarchy

    13 Jul 2014 | 8:35 pm
    the number confides. yawning scars. the future in increments. chasing promises long since expired. meat clings to the bone. but hunger easily manipulates any given circumstance. soft scabs fester. a riot of flesh. small revolutions distort us. animals gnawing on leashes attached to no one. lazy roads ambling into storms that never burst open. the angle of if sharper than ever. the pull of gravity like a lover scorned. the distance is measured, not in effort, but in depth. we don't go anywhere. we are always taken.in inches. in miles. in pieces. the mosaic of touch always building upon its…
  • 11 Inches and 15 ounces

    11 Jul 2014 | 8:15 pm
    the empty penetrates. bent needles. dry syringes. humble diseases. linger on the end of her lips. all library paste and old magazines. alone becomes us. in rained on parades and faded colors.it's cold. all yellow nightmares on barren roads. all eyes. no voices. just angry stares.it's dark. chasing gravity through back doors in the sun. seldom villains and absentee heroes. no path. only the dying echo of the life that came before this one. it's hot. everything is white. blurred. and chaotic. flesh collides. words fall apart. it's bright. so loud. all hungry crows fighting over the carrion. the…
  • Darning Eden

    3 Jul 2014 | 6:54 pm
    silence is a dull blade. wandering cuts. shallow and jagged. distribute their pain in whispers. meandering bridges chase the din. this chaos of touch that promises relief.but mostly infects.the journey possesses. greater than velocity, less than mass. the science is strict. the interpretation more lenient. the itch is deep. too deep to scratch. still we venture further in. the colors remember. thick with the panic of when. All long dresses and sweet, sweet songs. as we take a moment to pretend there's still more than there is less. reasoning with the math. she finds the decimal is in the…
 
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    anachronizms

  • mmcxcvii

    21 Jul 2014 | 11:14 pm
    Duh.  Rhetorical questions.                —Rachel Blau DuPlessisI don’t do worst.  Except“A book is the goal,” (sigh)“...but not just any book.”Okay.  Then what?  Again,rhetorical.  Bombastical(see “flatulant”) (and otherwords I mean to remember,like “prolix”, “garrulous”,“fustian”) (well, that one’seasy), and the always con-fusing, my “high-flown”.“How did we ever get here?”I fawn with prolix emphasis.I mean influence.  I meaninterest.  Which,…
  • mmcxcvi

    20 Jul 2014 | 8:32 pm
    It’s Okay to Act OutWe are offered variousoptions for which torelieve ourselves.One is too random.Slow down again.10:30am, anescapist, alive.What’s wrongwith checkingonline?  Star-dust in a tight-assbox.  Run on themill.  Or through it.  Putting thebills into a bag.I tried to sitin Union Squareto finish thehalf-poem/half-novel,but insteadI went toBorders andspilled my latté.The story of me.
  • mmcxcv

    19 Jul 2014 | 9:56 pm
    I’m working.He’s justwaiting forthe rapture.Nah, I ranone mileuphill.Stophere.That’s it. We met in the middleto catchup—or else tocatch abreath.Call it aweekend.
  • mmcxciv

    18 Jul 2014 | 4:42 pm
    Day of _______A way to startcommunication.Think outsidethe box musthave nevermeant this.But irksome,texting andobsessiveattentioncompulsion.This year,already likeno other:$565.89.Dumbwordsfor to-day,alreadyMay.
  • mmcxciii

    17 Jul 2014 | 9:02 pm
    Slave LabourI realize only sometimesthat I should step back andremind you about something.But I forget why I’m here.Perhaps that’s what Imeant to tell youin the first place.
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    Chicano Poet

  • 19 Jul 2014 | 7:50 am

    19 Jul 2014 | 7:50 am
    This Is Just To Say(homage to william carlos williams)I have takenthe coldkosher plumsthat werein the iceboxand given themto yourexterminator
  • 17 Jul 2014 | 12:06 pm

    17 Jul 2014 | 12:06 pm
    Manifestation Along The South Texas Borderred wheelbarrowviciously attackedanddismantledinthe rainby thewhite chickenswithglazed eyes
  • 10 Jul 2014 | 10:52 pm

    10 Jul 2014 | 10:52 pm
    Chamaco Sailed The  Ocean BrownChamaco crossed the seaand slaughtered the Europeansmade the landhis ownand later took pridein declaringthat he wasone quarter Europeanthat one of his ancestorswas a European princess
  • 10 Jul 2014 | 8:31 am

    10 Jul 2014 | 8:31 am
    Wrinkle In TimeAnd here's the wrinkleChamaco was Shirley Temple's dimpleChamaco fought the lawand the law runDeserts and riverssang like Johnny RiversChamaco's dark looksreminded us of Katy JuradoThe sun was Mexicanby all accountsChamaco's arttuff like Humphrey BogartChamaco was a Martian" Marsha! Marsha! Marsha!"Chamaco wrote a love songfor the wrong cabronaChamaco had a way with wordswhich no one heard
  • 8 Jul 2014 | 8:42 am

    8 Jul 2014 | 8:42 am
    River DeathThe Border Patrol agentstood over the body.The Rio Bravoignores it all.The Rio Grandedon't give a damn.Chamaco has dieda thousand times before.Chamaco can't swimbut he loves that dirty river.Chamaco's soulspells trouble.Chamaco's mindswells double.Chamaco's dyingto die another day.
 
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    the dust congress

  • 12 Jul 2014 | 10:44 am

    12 Jul 2014 | 10:44 am
    the story begins I did not know who she was and the story ends I did not know who she was
  • 17 Jun 2014 | 9:45 pm

    17 Jun 2014 | 9:45 pm
    I was making it up but no one was buying I was the first big weekend of the summertime * Nice Breeze song Transparency played during this thoughtful Pilot Waves podcast/interview of Washington City Paper arts editor Christina Cauterucci.
  • 29 Apr 2014 | 7:46 am

    29 Apr 2014 | 7:46 am
    dream Francisco Goya dream Vincent Van Gogh dream Gerhart Richter don't dream Billy Joel Nice Breeze May Performances: Arlington, Virginia (Facebook Invite) Brooklyn, New York (Facebook Invite) WDC (Facebook Invite)
  • 16 Apr 2014 | 5:00 am

    16 Apr 2014 | 5:00 am
    I wish they didn't put mirrors behind the bar Lady Pink, The Death of Graffiti, 1982, The Attorney Arrives At His Office On April 16 -- klipschutz Of course it would be dark, the accounting firm next door, on the ultimate day after the night before. People hate lawyers and pity the bean counter. People hate themselves and withhold pity from the poor. Across my desk not one of you can look me
  • 14 Mar 2014 | 9:56 am

    14 Mar 2014 | 9:56 am
    many times we've been out drinking and many times we've shared our thoughts * Nice Breeze's "Transparency" is featured in the Washington City Paper. * WAMU's Bandwith blog includes Nice Breeze in its Brief Introduction to DC's garage rock scene.
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    rooted

  • calling into the ghosts

    gautami tripathy
    6 Jul 2014 | 10:32 am
    an image or an apparition blind to the ragged rain  a wavering candle hidden beneath a cape ghosts call for blood as he runs to the foot of the hill arms akimbo blind to everything other than to... [[ This is a content summary only. Visit my website for full links, other content, and more! ]]
  • reflecting a random thought

    gautami tripathy
    1 Jun 2014 | 8:56 am
    countless dreams- I don't wish to chase any now I would rather follow the sturdy terrain continue paving the way to that field where the scent of the flora beckons me I propel forward by an unknown... [[ This is a content summary only. Visit my website for full links, other content, and more! ]]
  • all that paraphernalia

    gautami tripathy
    25 May 2014 | 10:09 am
    I survey before me stuck in there a display for donations treat for some eyes maybe my smile is fixed I can't laugh anymore take me out of here, mate I have a meeting in few hours listen to my heart... [[ This is a content summary only. Visit my website for full links, other content, and more! ]]
  • a forgotten past

    gautami tripathy
    18 May 2014 | 11:27 am
    in the regency era- they with alabaster skin ask for bread. such graphic images, with plastic smiles- we observe the chaos. a force, not a disaster, follows people, even into the mines, within the... [[ This is a content summary only. Visit my website for full links, other content, and more! ]]
  • in between feeling

    gautami tripathy
    11 May 2014 | 10:32 am
     a clumsy attempt to fly dreams land on the sharp edge of axe shattering sky can't make her vanish clouds settle to listen to her pleas no amount of name calling can bring her down in her... [[ This is a content summary only. Visit my website for full links, other content, and more! ]]
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    something katy

  • Drabble #18: Shortbread

    24 Jun 2014 | 3:43 pm
    short on butter again, the scone sat unfinished on her plate.  a wounded monk in the crossfire of desire and reality.  she sat pouting, staring at the monstrosity of sweet bread like one might a snoring bedfellow.  not enough butter.  cheap. overall, she decided, she preferred biscuits over bread.  savory or sweet, didn't much matter the kind of bread, there was hardly ever enough butter.  but
  • Ten Reasons NOT to be Sad

    23 Jun 2014 | 6:29 am
    I am sad today.  I have a reason to be.  But I also have a lot of reasons not to be sad... One Ryan - my amazing and wonderful husband and best friend Two Rowdy - my amazing and wonderful and crazy (and secretly affectionate) feline friend Three Jack - another amazing and wonderful bag of feline fur who fits himself into tiny boxes and somehow makes it look comfortable Four Alli - yet another
  • Drabble #17: Mercy

    17 Jun 2014 | 2:51 pm
    mercy grows in the dessert between the grains of sand too small to see with even a microscope mercy grows in between the cracks and splinters of old shingles still clinging to the sheds after hurricanes mercy grows in the heart of the man who spent his weekend rescuing tiny kittens after he saw one fall out of a tree mercy grows in the front seat of the family car where dad is sat
  • Drabble #16: Juxtaposition

    10 Jun 2014 | 3:01 pm
    http://www.artisticmoods.com/art-print-by-lieke-van-der-vorst/ please don't be so sad. we are all the same. we fix our selves against imagination and the selves of others. squatting between look and touch, the smooth of the cool light blue on white with a matching saucer and the warmth of the tattered soft black fur around our paws.  the sweet insides of this one and the burning bitterness
  • Drabble #15: Wrinkled

    30 May 2014 | 4:22 am
    betty sat, legs dangling over the edge of the dock, as she consumed her second ice cream. she watched her friends diving into the sea. they would appear out of the sky like angels before splashing into the ugly water. the cast on her arm kept her from joining in. so she ate vanilla ice cream instead.  afforded by asking all the boys she knew if they could spare her a penny or two.  those who
 
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    Wordplay Poetry BlogWordplay Poetry Blog

  • Thank You Mary Jane

    admin
    21 Jul 2014 | 8:58 pm
    Thank you Mary Jane I’m so glad you and your sisters Maria and Juanita came by. Certainly Mario and Juan are happy to see buds like you and Maria and Juanita who were so lovely in their green flowers.
  • The Other Road Poem by Dandelion de la Rue

    admin
    19 Jul 2014 | 10:37 pm
    I watch them Trotting slowly On the road less traveled Four white horses Looking at Not Me Seeing me not In my parallel universe. But I see them. I slow Watching them Their road Trying to guess Their secrets And why they glow. I have no glow. It’s all a blur Here on the superhighway That magic energy lies only on the dusty rocky secret wild horse road. Horns honk I must go 55. I must keep up. The horses are behind me now Their road is disappearing into mist. But NO! I must not lose it. I pull over hearing shouts of rage and warning cries. You can’t stop here, You fool! But stop I do…
  • Slide Into the Sea You Blood Red Moon poem by Ken Peters

    admin
    19 Jul 2014 | 10:35 pm
    my constitution is killing me I know enough to care about the lead in the water or in the air somebody mistook their freedom for a license we should just be fair everybody complains about the water but just wait until it’s gone everybody complains about their life but just wait until it’s gone they all talk about the violence doesn’t touch them behind locked doors they don’t have to be out there hanging with the poor so if I never danced for my father and didn’t dance that much with my wife I can hear the drumbeat/heartbeat now I’m dancing for my life slide into the sea you blood…
  • To the Bed Pan Person Poem by David Michael Jackson

    admin
    19 Jul 2014 | 10:34 pm
    Nursing home Clean white dry sheets every day now. There are the memories of another place another time wet sheets every day bladder infection kidney failure. No don’t think about it, he says. The bed pan persons are doing the job as important as the doctors as the nurses totally un heralded There is a place for you in my tears We need heaven for you
  • While you were Waiting poem by David Michael Jackson

    admin
    19 Jul 2014 | 10:33 pm
    While you were waiting she was sleeping. While she was sleeping. I was wanting, yearning, without cigarrettes I have no perceived angst. Take the pill. These modern times go down with the pill. Why cry? The world will go on without your poetry. Why try, and yet trying is what you are about, going there, coming here to type again, knowing others will read, maybe they will try too. As the universe was expanding and burning out he typed these words on a computer screen. Let’s make it a good ride!
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    Silliman's Blog

  • 21 Jul 2014 | 9:00 pm

    21 Jul 2014 | 9:00 pm
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    20 Jul 2014 | 9:00 pm
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    18 Jul 2014 | 9:00 pm
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    Poet Hound

  • Amanda Oaks' Hurricane Mouth

    8 Jul 2014 | 3:01 am
    Amanda Oaks’ Hurricane Mouth is published by NightBallet Press and is a powerfully emotional collection of poems that describe the impact of words, thoughts, actions on relationships within the poet’s life. They are beautiful and hardscrabble, delicate yet tough in sinew. The poems are honest and brutal and life-affirming. It is another collection where I have “dog-eared” the majority of the pages and had to settle for a select few to share with you, dear readers:WE’RE ON OUR OWN OUT HERELate summer, picking peascornfield just feet away,I would tiptoe with the wordsof warning looped…
  • black hands of a morning calm by Ayshia Stephenson

    10 Jun 2014 | 3:14 am
    black hands of a morning calm by Ayshia Stephenson is published by imaginaryfriendpress (who doesn’t LOVE the name of this press?) and follows our poet’s experiences overseas where her skin color stands out more than she’s ever imagined. In South Korea she begins to feel uncomfortable even around her fellow Americans who reside in this country with her, longing to feel enveloped by the color black amidst the sea of night lights and South Koreans who stream past her. The collection is beautiful in the poet’s expression of her sense of self outside of her native country of America and…
  • Eric Shonkwiler's Above All Men

    6 Jun 2014 | 3:11 am
    Above All Men by Eric Shonkwiler, published by MG Press, is set in the future where drought has devastated the country. Cities empty out as people flee to the country in hopes to farm their way out. Existing farms face the hardships of running out of fuel for their equipment and are forced to grow what little they can by hand. Dust storms sweep across the landscape filling homes and barns with sand. The main character, David Parrish, does his best to help his neighbors and a gullible family duped into believing they can turn their luck around after leaving Atlanta. David’s son, Samuel,…
  • Music for another life. A Collaborative text by Kristina Marie Darling and Max Avi Kaplan

    13 May 2014 | 3:13 am
    Max Avi Kaplan’s photography capture a glamorous 1950’s high-style woman who is spun into a wife who reveals the unglamorous side of domestic bliss under Kristina Marie Darling’s skilled hands. I am not able to share the photos that pair with each poem, so please sneak a peek any way you can and/or purchase a copy for yourself, the photos truly set the scene for each piece. A woman named Adelle, who longs for domestic bliss and finds none, she is one who abandons the notion only to reveal the complexities of having been part of married life and then no longer being part of the world so…
  • Susan Yount's House On Fire

    29 Apr 2014 | 3:13 am
    Susan Yount’s House On Fire is published by Blood Pudding Press and carries with it the weight of overcoming childhood’s complexities and rising above the ashes. Her poems are raw and beautiful, provocative and daring. I am happy to share a sample below:Sissyholds the bloated baby goat.Tongue licks death. He bawlsrecoiling neck and I cannot stop this.Evident Baby is sick beyond kilter,straw sticks to his teeth. Yet Istill pretend to call the vetand help support Baby’s neck.Sissy looks at me and blue eyesballoon behind saline. Life whiffsin her hands while the phone rantsoff hook. She…
 
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    The Best American Poetry

  • All the Young Lives Betrayed [by Charles Coe]

    Charles Coe
    21 Jul 2014 | 4:00 pm
    In Sharon, Vermont, a quiet little spot off I-89, about an hour shy of Montpelier, sits the Vermont Vietnam Veterans Memorial. I had time to stop so I decided to take look, winding my way through the woods to the parking lot. The Memorial was dedicated in 1982, but by the mid ‘90s the site had fallen into disrepair and was in danger of being closed. An outpouring of community support convinced the governor to keep the site open, and Vermont legislators decided not only to rescue and restore the site, but to make it the center of a “green”...
  • In Favor of Barbara Stanwyck [by David Lehman]

    The Best American Poetry
    21 Jul 2014 | 1:14 pm
    I cast my ballot in favor of Barbara Stanwyck. Note: Readers of "astrological profiles" know that the use of astrological terms is laid on pretty thick but with tongue in cheek, firmly so, on the nervy assumption that the horoscope -- like the "haruspicate or scry," "sortilege, or tea leaves," playing cards, pentagrams, handwriting analysis, palm-reading, and the "preconscious terrors" of the dreaming mind in T. S. Eliot's "The Dry Salvages" -- may be a bust at prediction bur may turn out to be not only "usual pastimes and drugs" but the means of poetic exploration. Born in Brooklyn…
  • Croatian Vacation Photos [by John Lane]

    johnlane
    21 Jul 2014 | 11:42 am
    I am a writer but on my desk-top computer I have about 20,000 photos. You do the math on what they say about every picture being worth a thousand words, or as Rod Stewart says, every picture tells a story. Most of my photographs were taken while traveling. Most aren't very good in the way photographers measure quality, but most serve my purpose: reminding me of where I have been and what the place looked like and what I experienced. More than a few have prompted their requisite word count. Sometimes the images even announce how I felt or what...
  • “Stanza My Stone!” Cried No One On Any Sort Of Regular Basis [by Lindsay Daigle]

    Lindsay Daigle
    21 Jul 2014 | 9:06 am
    I like to terrify my students with what imagery is capable of. Moving past the “red as a rose” and “hot like summer” kinds of images is certainly at least one full 75-minute Introduction to Creative Writing class period (+ several reading and writing assignments). It’s when those reading/writing assignments urge the initial eyebrow-snaking “I hate poetry!” sighs out of their mouths that I know the true conversation has begun. When I hear those frustrated sighs, I can’t help but laugh a little, nod, smile, ask “Why do you say that?” I listen to the reply, still smiling…
  • The Fourth Annual New York City Poetry Festival: July 26 & 27

    The Best American Poetry
    21 Jul 2014 | 8:39 am
    250 poets. 5 boroughs. 2 days. ONE CITY. The fourth annual New York City Poetry Festival promises to be bigger and better than ever, with over 60 poetry organizations and 250 poets participating on three main stages; a Vendor’s Village where local booksellers, artists and craft makers will sell their wares; healthy and delicious food truck options (including Morris Grilled Cheese, the Palenque Columbian Food Truck, Big D’s Grub Truck, and the Mudtruck); a beer garden sponsored by Brooklyn Brewery, poetry­inspired installation art throughout; the Ring of Daisies open mic; and the 3rd…
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    Harriet: The Blog

  • Three Questions for Sheryl Luna

    Harriet Staff
    22 Jul 2014 | 6:00 am
    Yesterday at La Bloga, Daniel Olivas asks Sheryl Luna three questions about her most recent book, Seven. If you can remember way back to November, Carmen Giménez Smith had some good words to share about Luna’s recently minted title: This long-awaited second collection, Seven, is a raw and vulnerable collection about sin, failure, and redemption in seven sections. The book’s speaker is reclaiming her self and her body from a history of abuse, and the book faithfully depicts the dramatic evolution from silence to rage to conciliation. In many of her poems, Luna deploys Old Testament…
  • A Broad Range of Luminosity: Aase Berg & HDR Photography

    Harriet Staff
    21 Jul 2014 | 12:08 pm
    An interesting piece at The Hairsplitter on Aase Berg’s recent Black Ocean book, Dark Matter, translated and introduced by Johannes Göransson. Written by Ryo Yamaguchi, this one’s “full hydraulic force” is compared to HDR photography: High Dynamic Range (HDR) photography is actually a bit of a misnomer since most of it is really tone-mapped images—true HDR offers, in a single capture, a broad range of luminosity, the flowers in the shadow of the tree in perfect exposure alongside the delicate shadings of clouds in the sky, also perfect. We see, naturally, with our…
  • Simone Fattal and Etel Adnan at New York Times

    Harriet Staff
    21 Jul 2014 | 10:30 am
    Holland Cotter reviews “Here and Elsewhere,” a show of contemporary artwork from the Middle East, in The New York Times Arts Section. His review spends time thinking about and praising the work of Simone Fattal and Etel Adnan: publishers of The Post-Apollo Press, as well as painters and writers. This current exhibition at the New Museum features several of Fattal’s paintings and includes Adnan’s novel, Sitt Marie Rose, and the typescript of her book of poems, The Arab Apocalypse. From Cotter’s review: Hidden behind that noncommittal title is a potentially…
  • ‘If you can’t be free, be a mystery’: Billie Holiday, Rita Dove, and Jazz Elegies at Paris Review

    Harriet Staff
    21 Jul 2014 | 9:00 am
    At Paris Review, Chantal McStay considers jazz elegies, specifically in Rita Dove’s poetry that explores the life, legacy—and sound—of Billie Holiday. This past Thursday marked the 55-year anniversary of “The Day Lady Died.” In her article, McStay highlights a few ways that Rita Dove evokes Billie Holiday in her poem, “Canary.” Billie Holiday died fifty-five years ago today. Many eminent American poets have elegized Holiday, attempting to capture something of her exquisite voice, whose unique tough-tender grain suggested a life of extremes. Langston…
  • Chris Tysh in Conversation at Entropy Mag

    Harriet Staff
    21 Jul 2014 | 7:30 am
    Have you always wanted to speak with Chris Tysh about translation, but never have been in the same place at the same time? Look no further than this interview with Tysh at Entropy which is no substitute for an in-person convo but comes close enough to the hello you’ve been hoping for. From Entropy: When did you first become aware of Translation? How did that realization impact your understanding of literature? My keenest awareness of translation dates back to my lycée days, when we had to translate roughly a page a day of Latin (Caesar, Ovid, etc., the standard French regimen of yore)…
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    Dunstan Carter : Poetry

  • Lemon Tree

    dc
    18 Jul 2014 | 4:13 pm
    The sun whispered In the garden As nature throbbed, A single hummingbird Fluttered Frenetic, Flies buzzed all fussy And the wind Tickled leaves, As we wandered All dazed. A warm blooded sky, Hot light flickering, The weird Clicking crickets And their hypnotic Racket Flowing and growing Like an orchestra Thrumming, A dizzying oddness Pausing our thoughts. We held hands And stared straight at A single fruit sitting At the heart Of a lemon tree Singing, Simple and high pitched, An odd waspish whistle Of witch giggles And wonder, A strange treasure plundered, A sour delight; It was wondrous,…
  • Who?

    dc
    2 Jul 2014 | 3:56 pm
    Sometimes, Every now and again, We need to erase people From history. We strip them of awards, Take down plaques and paintings, Throw old tape into skips And burn stuff, Signed photos and t-shirts, Ticker tape and old contracts; Why deal with things When we have fire? We whisper suspicions in hindsight And rattle our tutting Like huge dripping drainpipes; Why deal with things When we have the rain? Gallons of dirty water Lapping against the stains We’ve been slowing leaving here For decades; Why deal with things When we can rebuild? Hundreds of glass buildings Reaching high and echoing the…
  • Charming Caveman

    dc
    26 Jun 2014 | 5:00 pm
    Give me that Moment again And you will see A night sky filtered All luminescent pomp, Fireworks Conducted by sparrows, A blaze of glory, Perfectly framed, Sucked in and then Kissed on your eyelids, All stylish And grand, Like only a charming Caveman can.
  • Before Sleep

    dc
    25 Jun 2014 | 5:48 pm
    I have words I’ve yet to promise, A handful of insults And a truth I need to bury, Far beyond the blind man’s winds and clouds Or the dreams trapped on the sand, Across the tide’s dark purple hue And beneath the questioning dusk, I shake dried mud from my hair And laugh at nothing won; I have promises I’ve yet to insult, A handful of truths And some words I need to bury.
  • The Sombre Exhale

    dc
    16 Jun 2014 | 4:18 pm
    The sombre exhale, The gentle throb of guilt And the moment you know That you’re wrong, The heavy swallow, The lowered shoulders And the slow, measured dance Of the sunlight As the air echoes shame To the beats of contrition.
 
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    Robert Peake

  • “Buttons” (Award-Winning Film-Poem for Children)

    Robert Peake
    15 Jul 2014 | 10:00 am
    I am delighted to announce that “Buttons” won the judge’s prize in the 2014 Southbank Centre Poetry Film Competition “Shot Through the Heart” children’s category. It will premiere at the prize-giving ceremony on July 18th at the Purcell Room in London. Click here to view the video Buttons Buttons themselves are a kind of love token, they fasten your coat to keep out the damp, and love is each stitch sewn tight and unbroken sticking them down like a well-licked stamp. Buttons make eyes for your stuffed toys to see, which bulge when you squeeze them right up…
  • Push-Bike by Elaine Gaston (Film-Poem)

    Robert Peake
    22 Jun 2014 | 1:00 am
    Click here to view the video Push-Bike Click here to read the text of the poem on the Poetry Society website. Process Notes Valerie and I were honoured to be selected to make a film from one of the seven commended poems in the 2013 UK National Poetry Competition. We admired Elaine Gaston’s “Push Bike” as a poem, and sought to carefully expand on some of its themes with music and visual imagery. I used the camera module on a Raspberry Pi to capture time-lapse of clouds out our front window, and mixed this in with public domain footage from Preligner archives. Valerie composed…
  • Filmpoem 2014, Antwerp

    Robert Peake
    17 Jun 2014 | 7:56 am
    Poets, musicians, and filmmakers from all over the world converged on FelixPakhuis in Antwerp last Saturday for a fantastic day of screenings and conversation. It was a pleasure to see John Glenday again, and to meet outstanding poets like Michael Symmons Roberts and Zeynep Köylü alongside filmmakers like Marc Neys and Adele Myers. You can read more of my thoughts on the day, and view a selection of excellent film-poems from the first screening curated by Alastair Cook, which provides a fine introduction to the genre overall, in my article on the Huffington Post. Click here to read the…
  • Aerial Manoeuvres (Film-Poem)

    Robert Peake
    11 Jun 2014 | 12:00 am
    Click here to view the video Aerial Manoeuvres In dreams, I am convinced I have always been able to fly– the updraft from the cliff will catch me like my mother when I launched from the stairs on a bird-brained impulse, avian memory, invincible faith. Airline rituals reassure me– the act is routine ad tedium– tyres drift up off the tarmac, metal wings skate the air. “Falling doesn’t hurt,” we joke, “it’s hitting the ground.” So I fall, and fall into myself, gasping awake on a feather bed. Larks slice through the dawn, and part of me goes…
  • Featured in The Poetry Shed

    Robert Peake
    4 Jun 2014 | 11:21 am
    Abegail Morley has kindly featured me today on her excellent website The Poetry Shed. I was lucky enough to catch her attention at the Troubadour Poetry Prize Reading last year, and not long after that she invited me to read at the Royal Academy as part of the Ekphrasis project. It has been a pleasure to get to know Abegail–one of those people diligently and unassumingly going about the business of doing good things in the world of poetry. She mentions the history of our acquaintance, along with a lovely nod to Transatlantic Poetry on Air, and reprints two of my poems on her site. Do…
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    The Nahmias Cipher Report

  • Lightning Strikes Twice? Malaysia Airline Tragedies

    Ayanna Nahmias
    17 Jul 2014 | 7:10 pm
    Ayanna Nahmias, Editor-in-Chief Last Modified: 22:10 p.m. DST, 17 July 2014 DONETSK, Ukraine — First, we preface this article with our sympathies for the families and friends of the 295 people who died when a Malaysian Airliner was shot down over eastern Ukraine earlier today. It is a horrific tragedy, in a world which has […]
  • Council Orders Indian Girl to be Raped as Punishment for Her Brother’s Crime

    Allyson Cartwright
    15 Jul 2014 | 8:59 pm
    Allyson Cartwright, Contributing Journalist Last Modified: 00:58 p.m. DST, 15 July 2014 SWANG GULGULIA DHOURA, India — A 13-year-old girl in a rural Indian village was condemned to be raped by the head of her village as a punishment for her older brother. The girl’s brother, according to CNN, attempted to rape a married woman, […]
  • Ramadan: Airplanes, Athletes, and Reality TV

    Sarah Jakubowski
    12 Jul 2014 | 9:36 pm
    Sarah Joanne Jakubowski, Ghana Correspondent Last Modified: 00:38 a.m. DST, 13 July 2014 ACCRA, Ghana — Ramadan, the Muslim month of fasting and contemplation, began on June 28th. Until recently, the concept of this religious event was distant to me as there isn’t a large Muslim population in my North Carolina home.  However, since coming […]
  • Meet Our Journalists

    Ayanna Nahmias
    10 Jul 2014 | 1:45 pm
    Ayanna Nahmias is the Editor-in-Chief. She is passionate about international affairs, geopolitics, and human rights and writes articles with an emphasis on women’s rights and child advocacy. She is working on her first novel and was interviewed about growing up in Africa as the daughter of a radical, Islamist expatriate on Radio Netherlands Worldwide. Click […]
  • Iranians Arrested after Celebratory World Cup Video

    Allyson Cartwright
    9 Jul 2014 | 1:42 pm
    Allyson Cartwright, Contributing Journalist Last Modified: 16:42 p.m. DST, 09 July 2014 TEHRAN, Iran — For the second time in the past few months, Iran authorities have arrested those involved in making a celebratory music video. Last month, six individuals were arrested and since released for filming a music video to the Pharrell Williams song “Happy”. […]
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    Magma Poetry » Blog

  • Blog Review 35: Pippa Little Reviews ‘The Years’ by Tom Duddy

    Pippa Little
    15 Jul 2014 | 2:40 am
    I’d only read one poem by Tom Duddy but its simple grace stayed with me. There was a mysteriousness and sweetness to it, a gut feeling that this was a real poem by a real poet (much as I felt when first reading John Glenday’s Grain). It was ‘The Touch’, and, like many of the poems in this posthumous collection, dealt with a rural Irish childhood memory of going running to fetch the doctor and being met on the doorstep by his wife “…whose briskly gentle hands/once fixed my collar as I stood in the rain”. I wanted to discover if Duddy’s other poems had that magic and…
  • Call for contributions – Magma 61 on the theme of ‘the street’

    Jon Sayers
    3 Jul 2014 | 8:35 am
    Magma’s original meaning in Greek is ‘mixture’ and so the theme of ‘the street’ seems a fitting reflection of our magazine’s ambition to represent the widest mix of poetry, from the formal to the informal, the mainstream to the margins.  The street, after all, is shared territory: all human life is there.  Magma, too, is common ground, and we believe all poetic life should be able to rub shoulders here. We are seeking poems that celebrate the street as a public thoroughfare, owned by no-one and everyone, where strangers pass and old acquaintance meets, where glances are…
  • Magma 59 Launch in Leicester

    Roberta James
    2 Jul 2014 | 6:26 am
    Join us for an evening of poetry and a celebration of Magma 59: Breaks at our regional launch Upstairs at the Western in Leicester, Thursday July 17th. Lorraine Mariner and Kathryn Gray will be joined by other poets from the issue. Drinks are available from the bar downstairs and can be brought up. Doors open 6.30 for reading at 7pm. The reading will conclude by 9pm. Entrance is free. You can reserve your place by booking on Eventbrite.  
  • Blog Review 34: Andrew Sclater Reviews ‘Lowland’ by Will Kemp

    Andrew Sclater
    1 Jul 2014 | 4:31 am
    Before I opened this book, I liked the cover’s atmosphere — sedges against a hazy grey-blue background. Imagine fenland, mist and water. The title Lowland stands pale and eerie across the top, as ‘there’ and ‘not-there’ as a vapour trail. The 80 pages are full of fenny atmospheres and remind us how vast landscapes dwarf human desires and aspirations. Lowland, Kemp’s second collection, is a sequence on love and unfulfilment, set against the lonely opennesses of East Anglia and the polders of coastal Holland. The North Sea stands as a great, chill, opaque-blue mirror refracting…
  • Magma 59: the new issue and its launch events

    Roberta James
    26 Jun 2014 | 1:31 am
    Magma 59 will be launched at two venues.   In London, the launch will take place at the London Review Bookshop, 14 Bury Place, London WC1A 2JL on Friday 27 June. Doors open at 6.30pm with readings 7 to 9pm with Colette Bryce and Lorraine Mariner.  Entrance is free, but please reserve a seat here.  Wine will be available with a recommended donation of £3.   In Leicester the launch will take place Upstairs at the Western on Thursday 17 July beginning at 7pm.  Entrance is free, and drinks can be bought at the bar.   As usual, at both events, lots of poets from the issue will…
 
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    Mark McGuinness - poetry

  • Poem: ‘The Illusionist’, in The Rialto

    Mark McGuinness
    26 Jun 2014 | 9:14 am
    My poem ‘The Illusionist’ has just been published in Issue 80 of The Rialto, which has been one of my favourite poetry magazines for years. The poem is loosely based on an experience of watching the filming of a TV magic show, one of those rare instances of what might be called poetic déjà vu: life starts to imitate a verse form, and you become aware during the experience itself that you are inside a potential poem. In this case, the verse-form was the pantoum, and I could almost see the machinery of the poem moving and grinding around me, in the two-steps-forward-one-step-back…
  • Lark in the Morning: The Verses of the Troubadours

    Mark McGuinness
    31 Mar 2014 | 9:23 am
    We all know vaguely who the troubadours were: those minstrels with (in Ezra Pound’s words) “trunk-hose and the light guitar” who wandered through the middle-ages, serenading ladies outside their windows and dodging jealous glances (and arrows) from the lord of the castle. They mastered the game of courtly love, or fin amor, and inspired generations of Romantically-minded poets, from Dante, Petrarch and Chaucer onwards. The bohemian aura of the troubadour persists to this day: the Troubadour Cafe is a legendary performance venue in West London, its tiny stage having been…
  • Machi Tawara, Mount Fuji Tanka Calendar

    Mark McGuinness
    10 Jan 2014 | 3:35 am
    Last summer I had the pleasure of meeting Machi Tawara when she visited the UK to read at the Ledbury Festival. She kindly gave us a copy of her latest book Mount Fuji Tanka Calendar – a collection of tanka for children and adults, with illustrations of Mount Fuji by U.G. Sato. From the publisher’s website: Twenty-four solar terms originally from Ancient China are still used in daily life Japan to signify the subtle changes of seasons. Mount Fuji, the spiritual home of the Japanese, is the motif of this story. See how its appearance changes along with the time of year! One tanka…
  • Charmless and Interesting: Robert Archambeau on Conceptual Poetry

    Mark McGuinness
    3 Aug 2013 | 5:33 am
    There’s a thought-provoking article article on the Poetry Foundation’s Harriet blog, by Robert Archambeau: What Conceptual Poetry Lacks And What It’s Got. In case you, like me, were wondering what he means by conceptual poetry, it turns out to be very similar to the more familiar (ahem) concept of conceptual art, i.e. work in which the idea is the most important part, and the execution (and attendant skills such as craft and technique) is of relatively minor interest. When it comes to art this means that, to put it bluntly, it doesn’t really matter whether you can…
  • ‘The Whitsun Weddings’: In the Midst of Life We Are in Death

    Mark McGuinness
    17 Jul 2013 | 2:42 am
    ‘The Whitsun Weddings’ is usually regarded as one of Philip Larkin’s brighter poems: a beautiful evocation of romantic love, with newlyweds riding the train to London against a backdrop of town and country scenes. The visual detail is gorgeous, like a succession of paintings by Constable, Lowry and Beryl Cook. In the context of Larkin’s oeuvre, it feels like a relief from the ghastliness of death and the mordant posturings of the self-conscious bachelor. All of which is undoubtedly true, and I have no intention of spoiling the sunny picture. But as Larkin writes,…
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    Poet Mom

  • Taking a Break

    January
    9 Jul 2014 | 2:13 pm
    Lying in a hammock in my backyard reading James Wright's "Lying in a Hammock at William Duffy's Farm in Pine Island, Minnesota"This was yesterday's FB photo. I'm surprised I had time to sit back for a few hours because I'm in kid mode most afternoons. In truth, we have a vacation coming up which has gobbled up all of my brain space. Couldn't even muster a confession for Confession Tuesday. So I've decided to take a short break from the blog. Too much to do in a short amount of time. I'll be back online later in the month. Bye!
  • The 5th of July

    January
    5 Jul 2014 | 10:23 am
    Hope you had a nice Independence Day! If you live on the East Coast, no doubt you were drenched in torrential rain from Hurricane Arthur.This picture (which looks a bit blurry--sorry) was taken at a local Fourth of July Parade. The morning was cloudy but rain free, so the town, Manchester-by-the-Sea, was able to get in a few events before the all-day downpour. I don't think I've ever been a part of a more quintessential New England event before. We sat curbside in lawn chairs and watched the parade go by. The crowd was decked out in red, white, and blue--like everyone shopped at Old Navy…
  • The Poetry of Work - The Work of Power

    January
    5 Jul 2014 | 9:58 am
    Scan of my ID tagNever have I been to a poetry reading where I had to go through a security checkpoint. But then again, never I have read poetry inside a power plant. Such was the venue of the latest Improbable Places Poetry Tour stop this past Wednesday.The reading was was part of the exhibit "Across the Bridge," documenting the visual and narrative legacy of the Salem Harbor Power Plant--created by the students of Montserrat College of Art. The reading was held in Turbine Hall and I can't emphasize that it was a completely different world for me. Physically, visually,…
  • Confession Tuesday

    January
    2 Jul 2014 | 7:28 am
    You know the drill.I confess I'm writing this on Wednesday because I didn't have much to say yesterday afternoon. Today, I'm at the Salem Athenaeum, which is my usual spot too write on Wednesdays. Here's the view outside. I would be sitting there but it's 80 degrees and humid at 10 a.m. Too early to be sweaty and gross. ****I didn't have much to say yesterday, but last night I was guest lecturing in a beginning poetry workshop at Harvard University. Let that sink in for a moment.*faints*I spoke for an hour to a great group of diverse students. It's an interesting experience to…
  • Bits and Pieces

    January
    29 Jun 2014 | 7:56 pm
    One word: kids. The beginning of the week started out extremely productive, then I got wrapped up in kids activities. Did not make too much progress on manuscript #3. Honestly, I'm so tired at night that by morning I don't want to write anything. As much as I want to stay focused, I can feel myself pulling back to enjoy the time with my family. Tonight is no exception with a sleepover in progress. I have managed to do a few po-biz things every single day, which feels immensely satisfying. The upcoming week should be a better one to write new poetry.****Today, I saw a musical…
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    Daily Poem With Gods Help

  • Intercept Affiliate

    Kenney
    21 Jul 2014 | 7:50 pm
    Intercept affiliate…-——————————–-Intercept affiliateThe balls thrown wide, I’d like to intercept, Can I catch this pass, I jerked to the side, And pulled a quadricep, Now I’m likely to end up in a cast, I need an affiliate, Who can help me assimilate, Something that will truly last, Or maybe a musician, who’s also a physician, And can help me get out of this cast-——————--copyright 2010 KenneyYoung.comOriginal article: Intercept Affiliate©2014 Daily Poem With Gods…
  • Trouble Distilled

    Kenney
    20 Jul 2014 | 4:50 pm
    Trouble distilled…-——————————-Trouble distilledSometimes when trouble is a Brewin, The water just needs to be distilled, It seems double when it’s passing through and, My fears just need to be chilled-———————--Original article: Trouble Distilled©2014 Daily Poem With Gods Help. All Rights Reserved.
  • Chamber Fire

    Kenney
    19 Jul 2014 | 2:52 pm
    Chamber fire…-————————-Chamber firePut another one in the chamber, And prepare to fire, Let everyone know that they are in danger, And that he he’s a liar, So many have died, In the name of war, Those in power have lied, To the Babylon whore, John Lennon spoke, Of a different circumstance, He tried to tell us all, Just give peace a chance-——————--Original article: Chamber Fire©2014 Daily Poem With Gods Help. All Rights Reserved.
  • Firehouse Emergency

    Kenney
    18 Jul 2014 | 2:57 pm
    Firehouse emergency…-————————————-Firehouse emergencyEmergency emergency, Somebody call the firehouse, Do it with urgency urgency, Cause I just saw a mouse-——————————--Original article: Firehouse Emergency©2014 Daily Poem With Gods Help. All Rights Reserved.
  • Zinfandel Discreet

    Kenney
    17 Jul 2014 | 3:44 pm
    Zinfandel discreet…-——————————–-Zinfandel discreetWhite Zinfandel, Was never my choice of wines, But when you’re out of everything else, These are tough times, Sober today, Through God and AA, You never know who you’ll meet, But if I run into you, At church or the zoo, I’ll try to be discreet-———————-- Original article: Zinfandel Discreet©2014 Daily Poem With Gods Help. All Rights Reserved.
 
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    cottonbombs

  • Lake Baikal

    cottonbombs
    20 Jul 2014 | 10:29 pm
    The lake is fed by as many as 330 inflowing rivers.[4] The main ones draining directly into Baikal are the Selenga River, the Barguzin River, the Upper Angara River, the Turka River, the Sarma River and the Snezhnaya River. It is drained through a single outlet, the Angara River. You don’t get to be the deepest lake in the world without taking in at least 330 rivers Lake Baikal is deep 1642 meters deep      
  • Fishing For Whales

    cottonbombs
    20 Jul 2014 | 9:57 pm
    What do you tell someone who had caught a blue whale at the end of his line and then lost it “There’s bigger fish in the sea?” Forgetting that a whale ain’t no fish no there’s not that was it. That was your chance at catching the big one sure, you could cast your line again and maybe you could even snag a baby beluga whale but, Ishmael your whale has sailed. Now what? Can you make do with a minnow?
  • If Everything Is Relative Then Relative Is Nothing

    cottonbombs
    12 Jul 2014 | 10:25 pm
    Someone just told me I only use 10% of my brain what he doesn’t know is I rent the other 90% out as an ant farm. I just decided what I want to be when I grow up a kid but kids today don’t have pen pals like microwaves make food faster but not healthier we have turned correspondence into instant popcorn I teach my students: Nothing worth learning can be taught in a classroom then in brackets I write: (You didn’t learn that here.) Sobriety is relative most of my relatives are drunk. Me? I’m relatively sober. The last time I threw a paper airplane made from a laptop out the…
  • Revenge Is A Dish Best Served Hot

    cottonbombs
    28 Jun 2014 | 11:44 pm
    So many seasons to sew harvesting last Winter keeping its ice in my freezer to cool my beer the Anti Christ to my Summer cause I’m blessed to be drunk on this hot as hell Summer’s day smiling and sunburned knowing with no photo I’ll never remember this day still Summer dies and Autumn dies and Winter gives way to painful memory and painful future. But I didn’t crack open that first beer to toast Winter it would be sacrilegious on such a glorious Summer’s day I’m just musing at the fact that the reason my beer tastes so good is that it’s been chilling…
  • Putting the Lou Gerhig in the Lou Gerhig’s Disease

    cottonbombs
    8 Jun 2014 | 10:11 pm
    I’ll write a mark, a letter, any number on my left hand something, anything to remind me of what I need reminding could be anything from as trivial as: get soap to as important as: call mom thank God for this pen to flesh and the word becomes flesh like a tattoo is physical memory to those who can see such melodies off their arms in such inspirational off the cuff moments that make up the cosmetics industry that make us more beautiful so that the abstract can be abstracted from reality so that reality can be seen from our pretty dreams how art can be both surface and symbol of what we…
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    Dark Matter

  • I Will Be Content

    Tony Brown
    21 Jul 2014 | 3:55 pm
    Originally posted on 7/5/2005, without a title, as a section of a larger essay. I ride this world as if Ganesh himself had plucked me up and placed me upon his back. I am grateful, but did not seek this. Eventually I will surely fall just as I have risen. I will be content. If I were nothing again, the nothing before something, just my parent’s desire, strong enough  to come forth, too weak to do more; if I were that nothing, I would still be content. Some of you understand how a tree falls when the elephant straightens. A leaf falls, and the tree lifts itself higher.   What will…
  • Exam Questions For The Next World

    Tony Brown
    21 Jul 2014 | 12:06 pm
    Originally posted 7/12/2013.   Section One: Explain intersectionality as it relates to systemic oppression. Include in your essay the following terms: blood dugout.  pitted bone. rape shop. sharpened stone. Section Two: If you are assigned  the role of scapegoat, how will you survive your turn in the wilderness? Show your work. Section Three: What five words ought to be erased or respelled in order to lift their magic?   Defend your choices without attacking others. Section Four: Define a process for removing the history in your own eye. Section Five: Will there be any room for any…
  • On Privilege

    Tony Brown
    20 Jul 2014 | 8:51 am
    Originally posted 7/25/2010. Definition: an oil, a thin clear oil, that gets on everything. When it clumps in dark corners it is obvious if you put a light on it, but when spread around it becomes invisible, intangible until you try to grip something. If you’re born coated with it the ones who came before you teach you how to work with it, how to forget about it as you make it stick where you want it to stick. No wonder you’re insulted when people calls you “slick” as they try to make you see how it shines so evenly on your skin while on their own it’s just a mess of smears and…
  • Prayer For A Sound Sleep

    Tony Brown
    17 Jul 2014 | 11:06 am
    Originally posted 1/11/2010. Please, no earthquakes or supervolcanoes tonight. If the world is going to end in my lifetime I want to be awake when it happens. There will be something to see in those last seconds before the curtain tumbles around us laden with stone and flame and I’ll surely be one of those  compelled to capture it and cram what little sense can be made of it into words  no one will read. I would like a good night’s sleep  before I face that, a good night thinking of good things to do in my good future. So please, no asteroid collision, no planetary…
  • Bull

    Tony Brown
    17 Jul 2014 | 10:49 am
    Originally posted 4/3/2014.   If you choose  to remake yourself  as a dead man,  bull-boy, when you have done yourself in, whether you do it yourself with a tool or weapon or whether you do it yourself with food or drug or antic mistake, everyone will know it was you and you will learn (while you are newly disembodied  but still able to hear everything  they’re saying about you) that your people will get as angry as picadors when a bull escapes  its obvious fate.  They will rage on about it for a time, wanting to stick that dead bull till it bleeds anew. Bull-boy,…
 
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    Heartful Whispers

  • In memory of Muhammad Ali.

    8 Jul 2014 | 2:54 pm
    This piece is a poetic translation of the Urdu original by the late Muhammad Nazir Bhatti             (my grandfather), entitled: Muhammad Ali ke Yaad me; and written about my little brother.           His memory came to wake me,It left me here bereft “What are you doing, dear grandfather?”It whispered as it left.I saw a field of flowers then,Where there were blossoms bright and blueBut one lonely flower caught my eye,Its scent, across the distance, flew. I too picked up my poets pen And left in its pursuit I searched…
  • 24/06/2014. Istanbul.

    24 Jun 2014 | 6:46 am
    I am gazing from the helmAs the world gazes back at me ,The faint taste of ocean tears, Tingling on my lipsAs I sip silently upon the wind.It rushes past me,Over me and under me And through me, all at once.Tugging at my veil,Unveiling layers upon layers Of cloaks, shrouding my soul,Unravelling time before my eyes,Laughter and sorrowsYesterdays and tomorrowsTangling and untangling until…Silence. Time has stoppedEvery clock halts andThe sand grain lingers in the hourglass. I see with perfect clarity The clouds that sail the skies with their silver lining, Oh, how the sun is shining. I see…
  • 3/06/2014. Ignorance is bliss.

    7 May 2014 | 9:16 am
    Look at youYou tread fearfully on the edgeTiptoes on the thread of space and timeTo you it is a straight line, that begins and ends with you;That self-importance is so comical. You stand at the peak of this ball of rockwhere you live to dieand you’re rewarded for your compliance to the cause.You don’t have to worry about the consequencesOf your actions,So carelessly put together,A recipe for a successful disasterYou are the chef, the master,of course only you matter, just ignore the chatter of everyone else.Greet all those beneath you with a friendly sneer,With the mask behind which you…
  • 4/4/2014. The Story I Am.

    4 Apr 2014 | 5:35 am
    You construct every sentence of my life,sentencing me to a life of your choosing,I am losing a battle with every demon you have penned,penniless within my soul, sold to the devil so long ago. I am a story with so many commas I pause for effect, cause and effect are illusions, delusions you have formulated in the mind of manlest he ever doubt the freedom he thinks he has.Everyone else keeps moving on,they are gone before I can blink,no time to think which road to takeafor you write my decision before it is madeand I am saved from the perilous evil of peace.I am but a…
  • 15/12/2013. Awakening.

    14 Dec 2013 | 6:08 pm
    I am regaining consciousnessrising from a coma where I heard nothing,besides the nattering of my own self-doubt.I am awakeningfrom the restless slumber which took my sleep,and tangled my days into nights without a care. I am returning to the body, which had remained for weeks, an empty shell:living, yet not alive; nor wishing to be.I am resurfacingfrom the depths of a confusion that would drown me.Gasping; breathing in a sweet lungful of hopeAnd I resolve to never return to that pit in which I had flung myself.And to climb mountains, one step at a time,not complaining for the hardship that…
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    More than Words !

  • You are the Holy Communion (JUMP INTO THIS)

    Adarsha Bhattarai
    17 Jul 2014 | 3:26 pm
    Dear ones, Jump now, in this abyss of absurd mind process, JUMP NOW, JUMP IN,JUMP OUT, to your own heart, bearing light, Come now, COME OUT OF YOUR BEING,COME TO LIFE, COME TO DEATH, COME IN,Just be Drop Dead, no motions, no silence, nothing just come, with naked mind, Jump Now, deep within, to the grace of living, ask again, WHO AM I ?WHOOOO AAAM I ?JUMP NOW, into the space craft, get yourself together,release all that you have kept hidden,all burdens, all fears, all anger, all jealousy, all…
  • 'Plato would Banish Me at Birth'

    Adarsha Bhattarai
    16 Jul 2014 | 1:51 pm
    In Plato's Republic, poets are banned and banished 'Homer' the first official unsung heroof western literature.Yes, in Plato's Republic,he is left out of all literary rows, Plato says, Iliad and Odysseyare not for good men.Who are those good men, I wonder. Poetry, He says, is the empty 'eloquence of fools'and Poets are those, who can corrupt the best soul. Poetry in Greek means 'to make' (poiein)Plato says,truth is the act of becoming, not making, So poets are deceivers, liars, Trompe-l'œil,meaning, making an…
  • Home was always, a million miles away !

    Adarsha Bhattarai
    15 Jul 2014 | 9:01 pm
    A million miles away from home, my shoes got torn apart,so did my heart, and mind, and eyes, and  ears,but I walked and walked, I walked when I was sad,I walked when I was happy,I walked when it rained and snowed,I walked when it was scorching hot home was always a million miles away, but I walked, Winters Summers SpringsAutumn I walked, as I died, and then just rewind !Home was always, a million miles away !
  • He is a Stinking Flesh covered with Ego of Man

    Adarsha Bhattarai
    14 Jul 2014 | 3:45 pm
    As the faulty path,of dammed men stretches, to those innocent lives, millions are lost, millions are shot, but hope is constantly in the edge, through tears, through blood, through sorrow, through hunger, hope is again seeded in the gut, a boy, hears his first gunshot, and encounters deathhe also dies, he becomes a man, of the cruelty laid upon him, his sister is taken away, he needs to remain calm, he needs to focus and remain a man, the book says so, the lord has demanded that, it is not his…
  • Dear Trees, Are you Listening ?

    Adarsha Bhattarai
    12 Jul 2014 | 5:19 am
    My Dear Trees, do you hear the world talking ?do you hear them shouting ?asking for some lovefor some reason to be !Dear Trees, do you see humans anywhere?surely, I dont !all are but a distant memories calling, some memoriesof when I was namedsome memoriesof my mothers smellsome memoriesof my first kisssome memories of my first feeling of blisssome memories, that speaks of sadnesssome memoriesthat soothes the soul !Dear Trees, are you listening ?when I am not talking ?Dear Trees, do I exist or am I just memories ?Dear Trees, if tomorrow, I forget…
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    DaPhunkeeProfessor.com

  • Producers Notes: Building The Groovalottos Album Pt. 1

    Mwalim Daphunkeeprofessor Peters
    15 Jul 2014 | 9:40 am
    The Groovalottos keyboard player and producer, Mwalim DaPhunkee Professor, began his habit of keeping a journal while working on a project many years ago when he produced his first demo back in the mid 1980's. Usually, these notes are simply a tool used to keep the project on course, but for this album, he decided to share his notes as they come. Welcome to part One:This is going to be a premiere album by a band of seasoned players, so the album needs to be a statement... a calling-card of sorts. After many months of gigging and rehearsing, The Groovalottos were ready to start recording…
  • PRESS RELEASE: 1st Gathering of the National Congress of Black American Indians and All Our Relations set for July 19th in Washington DC

    M *7) - Daphunkeeprofessor
    10 Jul 2014 | 1:26 pm
    FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE:July 10, 2014CONTACT:Jay Winter Nightwolfwahyasunoyi@aol.comMJ Petersinfo@daphunkeeprofessor.com1st Gathering of the National Congress of Black American Indians and All Our Relations set for July 19th in Washington DCWASHINGTON DC - The National Congress of Black American Indians will be holding it's first gathering for people of mixed Native American and African American ancestry and all our relations on Saturday, July 19, 2014 at the Plymouth Congregational UCC, 5301 N Capitol St NE, Washington, District of Columbia 20011, 11am to 5pm.Speakers…
  • "The Meaning of July Fourth for the Negro" by Frederick Douglass

    M *7) - Daphunkeeprofessor
    4 Jul 2014 | 6:04 am
    The Meaning of July Fourth for the Negroby Frederick DouglassAs we celebrate the 4th of July, or in my case attend my tribe's powwow, this is also a day to reflect upon the powerful words of Frederick Douglass in his speech delivered one day shy of 162 years ago in Rochester, NY. As we reflect upon the social and political climate of today, including the prison industry, much of what was said then still stands.Mr. President, Friends and Fellow Citizens: He who could address this audience without a quailing sensation, has stronger nerves than I have. I do not remember ever to have…
  • NOTICE: July 19th in Washington DC is the first gathering of the National Congress of Black American Indians

    M *7) - Daphunkeeprofessor
    29 Jun 2014 | 3:01 pm
    Be A Part of A Historic Gathering!!! The First Gathering of the National Congress of Black American IndiansJuly 19th in Washington DC
  • Friday Night Philosophy: Know The Difference...

    Mwalim Daphunkeeprofessor Peters
    30 May 2014 | 7:49 pm
    This evening, I had a conversation with one of my folks about a relationship that they just ended. Morally, we are supposed accept and embrace the people we love's flaws and imperfections, as 'nobody's perfect'  However, with that, we sometimes owe it to ourselves to distinguish "Imperfect" from plain old "F--ked Up".- DaPhunkee One
 
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    The Arkside of Thought

  • Garden Tools (or How to be a Misogynist)

    Sahm King
    21 Jul 2014 | 10:49 pm
    The sharpest tool in the shed was some rusty and dull hoe, a former rake that needed replacing because the garden was full of dead leaves fallen from old bushes. You need a shovel, though, if you want your gold dug. GARDEN TOOLS (or HOW TO BE A MISOGYNIST) 7•22•14 SAKFiled under: Freeverse Poetry, The […]
  • Frosty

    Sahm King
    21 Jul 2014 | 10:30 pm
    Assholes drive Escalades,  unless they’re poor, then they write poems that make little sense save to themselves or those of an inability to discern deep truths foolish enough to ask what it means. I don’t know what the fuck it means. It just came out that way. Came out like an atheist comes out, playing […]
  • What Are You?

    Sahm King
    20 Jul 2014 | 9:30 pm
    Filed under: Freeverse Poetry, The Poetry of Sahm King Tagged: art, blog, culture, inspiration, life, lifestyle, People, poem, poems, poetry, sahm king, thoughts, writing
  • A Song for Babylon

    Sahm King
    20 Jul 2014 | 1:57 pm
    Could I sing sing would I o’er animal-gut twine merry musings for the mother of prostitutes and abominations and she, as Luna doffing miracle and omen and donning Helios’ nonpareil tee, would chafe the eye and, too, the mount and also the canopy in the valley and the peak of man’s own greatness erected against […]
  • Newton & the Days

    Sahm King
    19 Jul 2014 | 8:02 am
    Day breaks, shards of sunshine. Night falls, and gravity runs sand through its fingers. NEWTON & THE DAYS 7•18•14 SAKFiled under: Freeverse Poetry, The Poetry of Sahm King Tagged: culture, life, musings, People, poetry, sahm king
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    Miklos Arany

  • Dear Boys

    MA
    21 Jul 2014 | 6:16 am
    Run and Like the wind Unsettle the world With your dreams Of making it Diving in deep Finding the lost In the uncharted Take care Have courage Be the falcon And the falconer Love and Like the hunted Share your lives Without measure
  • 444: Poems from Two Centuries

    MA
    21 Jul 2014 | 6:15 am
    http://www.amazon.com/444-Poems-Centuries-Miklos-Arany/dp/149933219X/ref=sr_1_1_bnp_1_pap?ie=UTF8&qid=1403930117&sr=8-1&keywords=miklos+arany
  • Black and White in Shades of Gray

    MA
    7 Jul 2014 | 4:17 pm
    Freed from every hunger, Desire and greed fallen Like flying towers of sand. Released from the sharp Edge of fear and the dull Weight of regret, suspended In the border between Finite earth and limitless sky, We have nothing, want nothing, Lose consciousness and aren’t. We’re trapped by escape, Lost and found by strangers, Slipped under the door Like a surreptitious love Letter delivered between Dusk and dawn at a house That is unoccupied even By ghosts, subtle as Supernumerary dimensions And groomsmen side-by-side In black and white.
  • 444: Poems from Two Centuries

    MA
    7 Jul 2014 | 4:16 pm
    http://www.amazon.com/444-Poems-Centuries-Miklos-Arany/dp/149933219X/ref=sr_1_1_bnp_1_pap?ie=UTF8&qid=1403930117&sr=8-1&keywords=miklos+arany
  • Hamsa

    MA
    28 Jun 2014 | 12:10 am
    Light lifts and darkness falls As the sun sinks, the rising horizon Joining Earth and sky at a glance, Restless wind stirring the leaves Like breathing in waves, something On the wing, soul in flight, unquiet. Tonight is dry, solitary, peaceful As a hunter before the hunted breaks From cover, both suddenly wide awake The world is better when we sleep And our dreams arrest, our fires Slumber, fear and hunger balance.
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    Bechdel Babes

  • Disability: It’s probably not what you think.

    Bechdel Babes
    10 Jul 2014 | 8:21 am
    Disability, along with feminism, is a systematically misunderstood concept. Ideas of disability are so convoluted, so medicalised that we often miss the harsh reality individuals in society face. The social model of disability… Continue reading →
  • Existential Dread as Ethical Opportunity

    Bechdel Babes
    11 Jun 2014 | 6:20 am
        I always feel queasy when people ask me for advice or talk to me as if I have some remedy for their existential problems. I study philosophy, I must know the… Continue reading →
  • Whatever you do, don’t mention poo: a transition to motherhood

    Caitlin McGregor
    29 May 2014 | 3:58 am
    The first months of motherhood: expectation vs reality
  • Reclaiming the C-Word

    Bechdel Babes
    19 May 2014 | 7:21 pm
    There is only one word that, if I uttered in front of my Grandma, I’d probably get punched in the face for (by the woman herself). While it’d be hilarious and a fantastic… Continue reading →
  • Race in film: The Transfiguration of Lavender Brown

    rheaviewmirror
    12 May 2014 | 6:02 pm
    The Harry Potter series was was a fundamental part of my childhood. I spent years dragging my parents past midnight to buy the latest book or go to the latest film premiere. I… Continue reading →
 
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    Walking Is Still Honest

  • Troop Zero by Cee Williams

    Jeremiah Walton
    29 Jun 2014 | 9:43 pm
    The saliva was directed towards my cousin so I didn’t cry…like he did - the epithet however was meant for the both us - black boy scouts selling candy bars in the suburbs.
  • Our legs are tired

    Jeremiah Walton
    8 May 2014 | 1:23 pm
    We’re closing up shop at W.I.S.H. with ideas for opening up in the future.  Nostrovia! Poetry, our father publisher, is a time consuming project, and along with Gatsby’s Abandoned Children, UndergroundBooks, the threat of homelessness, and the upcoming Mobile Bookstore, my plate is piled high with a meal I’m just starting to cut through the appetizers of. If you’re after publication, Nostrovia! Poetry is currently accepting submissions through multiple venues. Thanks for walking with us. Cheers! -Jeremiah Walton, Gatsby’s Abandoned Children
  • Taking a break on the park bench

    Jeremiah Walton
    11 Mar 2014 | 7:43 pm
    “Where are the goddamn poems?” We’re closing up shop to submissions so we can get the Skinning Honesty anthology zipped and ready for publication. If you’re seeking venues to submit your poetry, art, and writing to, our big brother Nostrovia! Poetry is open to passion.
  • Corpses under clouds

    Jeremiah Walton
    8 Mar 2014 | 10:27 am
    Sky Burial by Michele Seminara I look so unremarkable but then I imagine so do you. And the secrets inside that we like to hide are probably boring too. So listen why don’t we share them? Cut our guts open and air them? We can have a sky burial and invite birds of carrion to transform our dark feelings to food. (First published in The Blue Hour Magazine 2013)
  • Riding the Nightmare

    Jeremiah Walton
    7 Mar 2014 | 8:14 am
    Riding Dark Horse Nightmare by Joan McNerney to prison library where sewer backs up flooding cages of books my brains are washed by a short scientist detectives trail me arrested by police giving up to handcuffs  ether now on train calendars peel off cars 1942   1962   1982 2198   1892   1294 passengers screaming screaming off track burning 3rd rail in swamp struggling to reach green reeds i   am   a fixed target paper duck *pull trigger*fire pin*thru barrel*into muzzle* b u l l e t                 s h o t paper duck mowed down.
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    Gatsby's Abandoned Children

  • WHERE ARE THE TRACKS?

    Jeremiah Walton
    19 Jul 2014 | 10:49 am
    WHERE ARE THE TRACKS? I’ve corned myself in a circle Reinforcing the angle with dark paintings, perpetrating a gravity these bones cannot handle. “Self loathing applied with a nasty needle” Look how people love to read about others hating themselves. Love notes are savvy scab cripples reading Braille of the goosebumps left over. Stars of a bruised zodiac constellate crawling through eye sockets like centipedes. Talk about death to make light of the race. Living is malleable like memories dated with a thumb tack chisel, carvings climbing with a growing tree (slipped, stabbed…
  • Submit to my ezine

    Jeremiah Walton
    19 Jul 2014 | 10:09 am
    Please submit to my ezine: 1000 snails crawl through salt maze The sea horses will not stop screaming. Dammit, who let them in again? Another dolphin saves humanity Who’s idea was it to give them rights? “In this episode, I’ll show you how to rob a k-mart and look profound while doing it.” Similar altercations where individuals who transcended self into the other through means other than repetitive sexual interactions occur frequently in the background noise under the dusty ceiling fans that haven’t been turned on in years Literature’s cops are too scared…
  • Crack pipe faith

    Jeremiah Walton
    17 Jul 2014 | 10:13 am
    Faith in people is pricey bloody like guillotine head bucket or French history. Genocide of hope is passing like a crack pipe that shits serotonin. This is not a good type of sadness. Tagged: authors, literature, poems, poet, poetry, writers, writing
  • Matters in Death

    Jeremiah Walton
    17 Jul 2014 | 10:08 am
    REMEMBER NONE OF THIS MATTERS IN DEATH Writing poetry will not make your life better Painting beautiful pictures will not fill the dumpster in your chest The greatest novel cannot be written, cannot save chunks of soul Chunks of soul? What is this shit? Another piece of brain clit? Another nerve ending extended to dirty the hurt? Go outside rise Phoenix from the ashes of love notes Nothing shall re-write your juggernaut of time Step into the moonlight like a drunken werewolf Devour waking hour with heart Life is best eaten raw Death will cower before your loyalty to his sister Their mother…
  • Eating sand

    Jeremiah Walton
    15 Jul 2014 | 10:42 am
    Girl poses with dead shark, prompts a PSA not to touch dead sharks. 375 lb murder drone crashes next to P.A. elementary school. Nazi guard dragged away to be lynched by liberated prisoners. Chewing a piece of bazooka because the fire inside your body is dead and your hoping something to explode Nodding out with a cigarette in your mouth, making your arm flesh sing, sounds like an alarm clock. Take my bones and their unfriendly names and set me on fire again. It’s all broken to sand “When did it convert to sand?” “Winter.” Ash doesn’t even stick it just…
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    Poetic Hope

  • A Few Gray Hairs

    22 Jul 2014 | 5:00 am
    A few gray hairs who cares you have angel eyes you have a heart of gold you have a love that shines for all to see you have a love that can shape lives with but a touch A few gray hairs on an angel's head who really cares I know I don't I love you just the same By Joseph Kemper © 21 February 2014 I hope you like the poemPlease remember to comment, like, and shareThank you.You can find my new book, "A Poet's Heart: Love Poems Volume 1" Here http://www.amazon.com/Poets-Heart-Love-Poems-Volume/dp/1492992933
  • Remember You Love Me

    21 Jul 2014 | 5:00 am
    When the storms come and try to wedge their way between our hearts I simply stop and remember you love me Then I remember you care Then I remember you would never hurt me Then I remember you only want to help me Then the storms lose their strength and can never find their way between our hearts or into my heart By Joseph Kemper © 21 February 2014I hope you like the poemPlease remember to comment, like, and shareThank you.You can find my new book, "A Poet's Heart: Love Poems Volume 1" Here…
  • Hold on to Me

    19 Jul 2014 | 5:00 am
    Have no fear I am here and I will never leave so you may freely cleave to my heart for we shall ne'er be torn apart so when you are afraid remember I shall always come to your aid so just hold onto me for we shall always be By Joseph Kemper © 20 February 2014I hope you like the poemPlease remember to comment, like, and shareThank you.You can find my new book, "A Poet's Heart: Love Poems Volume 1" Here http://www.amazon.com/Poets-Heart-Love-Poems-Volume/dp/1492992933
  • The Last of Hope

    18 Jul 2014 | 5:00 am
    When does hope run outCan you spend too muchWhen does it failCould it beHope's strength only failsWhen you give upBy Joseph Kemper © 19 February 2014I hope you like the poemPlease remember to comment, like, and shareThank you.You can find my new book, "A Poet's Heart: Love Poems Volume 1" Here http://www.amazon.com/Poets-Heart-Love-Poems-Volume/dp/1492992933
  • True Support

    17 Jul 2014 | 5:00 am
    Heading east of the full moon I seek to find her everywhere else I have searched but still could not find her I push I strive but still I cannot find her then I stop and see she has been right behind me the whole time My Thoughts about the PoemThe idea for this poem came from the prompt of the week on the Poets of G+ community on Google plus. I actually like the way it turned out.By Joseph Kemper © 19 February 2014I hope you like the poemPlease remember to comment, like, and shareThank you.You can find my new book, "A Poet's Heart: Love Poems…
 
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    Cute Love Poems for Her

  • My Fantasy, Made Reality

    Robyn-Dale Samuda
    7 Jul 2014 | 5:57 pm
    ‘Twas merely a fantasy A wild dream beyond reality My imagination captivated My vision held at ransom For the sake of your beauty Beauty that penetrates my soul Diving to the deep waters of my heart Stimulating my complete desire Etched and sealed in memory Mesmerized by even a mere glance Touching you, kissing you, I’m in awe Never could I truly envision How perfect these moments could be The earth waits, time remains still When your body is pressed against mine My heart leaps in your presence Awaken by your glow Dormant, patiently waiting My joy hidden and reserved For your love…
  • Heaven Needed Mom

    Robyn-Dale Samuda
    6 May 2014 | 6:52 pm
    So many things of Mom I miss – Her gentle hug and tender kiss. I still can feel her warm embrace. And picture yet her loving face. A mother’s tasks are never done. And heaven must have needed one. For angels came and took her hand And led her to God’s promised land. She’s surely kept quite busy there While brushing little angels’ hair. And making sire they’re dressed just right. Not staying out too late at night. Although there’s sadness, this I know – she’s waiting there, her face aglow. I close my eyes and I can see – Her arms…
  • I Love You

    Robyn-Dale Samuda
    4 May 2014 | 10:00 am
    Young and afraid I should have said “I love you.” I hear in my heart her reply: “Do you really want me? I’ll be with another.” Shy, greener than green, I couldn’t say it. “I love you.” The post I Love You appeared first on Cute Love Poems for Her.
  • 10 Beautiful Poems for Mom on Mother’s Day to Show You Love Her

    Robyn-Dale Samuda
    3 May 2014 | 12:10 pm
    #1 A Mother’s love is something that no one can explain, It is made of deep devoation and of sacrifice and pain, It is endless and unselfish and enduring come what may For nothing can destroy it or take it away… It is patient and forgiving when all others are forsaking, And it never fails or falters even though the heart is breaking… It believes beyond believing when the world around condemns, And it glows with all the beauty of the rarest, brightest gems… It is far beyond defining, it defies all explanation, And it still remains a secret like the mysteries of…
  • Love in the Daytime

    Robyn-Dale Samuda
    3 May 2014 | 10:19 am
    My lover Shines like the sun. I may be burned Black as a frying pan, Sweating buckets And keeling over With vertigo, But why worry? My lover Shines like the sun. She pours over my body And breathes into my soul. It feels so good When she lights My love on fire Like dry wood. The post Love in the Daytime appeared first on Cute Love Poems for Her.
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