Poetry

 
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    bentlily | One poem a day

  • You are more than a sweaty turnip

    Samantha Reynolds
    18 Jun 2013 | 11:42 pm
    I take offence on your behalf to what they focus on as you press your way week by week into my skin like this week one website compared you to a turnip and made note of your sweat glands and why the term rump like you are a cut of steak am I the only one who wonders if you dream yet and what about your amygdala a word so beautiful it could be your name that almond-shaped slice of your mind where your memories nest will I feel it when it grows collecting your slippery thoughts when you dream inside of me do I get to watch.

  • The almosts

    Samantha Reynolds
    17 Jun 2013 | 10:56 pm
    If I met God I would ask if the almosts were real or just plot points to make me think I was steering like how I almost became a homeopath and married the quiet man with the beard or how I almost moved to Whitehorse and named him Bose and the time I almost went for it and then didn’t if God could arrange it I would ask to see the movie for each one the unspooling of those fates I extinguished the taste of all those lives I didn’t chew.

  • The only thing you need to know about your father

    Samantha Reynolds
    16 Jun 2013 | 10:39 pm
    There are a thousand reasons why I love him or just this one the only thing you need to know about your father is this day an old woman who couldn’t find her car and your father who passed you to me so he could walk the streets with her eventually driving her in our car where they found her own way on the other side of the park she never would have found it was all he said as we drove to the dinner party only a little bit late while I roped the memory around my heart practicing how I would tell you about it every few years or so this little kindness that explained so much.

  • Sirens

    Samantha Reynolds
    15 Jun 2013 | 9:20 pm
    I have forgotten what it feels like to be so sure like how you tell me that zebras like figs but only for breakfast and how you will be one of these zebras when you grow up or how one stick can be your granny but when I pick another stick and suggest it could be your aunt you look at me with pity these days I am always asking you questions just to watch your face as you sort the possibilities and announce the winner but when the ambulance drove past us and I did my quick ritual that I always do to ward off grief you dropped a rare question into the air mama, why do the sirens take them away…

  • Crap

    Samantha Reynolds
    14 Jun 2013 | 5:26 pm
    You draw faces now with eyelashes and nostrils but you still can’t say your L’s like how you call our friend Raura and she’s a speech therapist which makes it funnier but I forgot this quirk today when our neighbour’s daughter practiced her front handspring for you raw with flush and pride and you looked straight at her and yelled crap crap crap so that an awful moment dragged its silence across the air before I realized you were applauding without your hands and I told the girl this but she had already moved on to a perfect round-off looking back at you grass-stained and determined…
 
 
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    Poem of the Day

  • Poem of the Day: from The Princess [Sweet and low, sweet and low]

    Nina Alvarez
    18 Jun 2013 | 11:39 am
    Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon; Rest, rest, on mother’s breast, Father will come to thee soon; Father will come to his babe in the nest, Silver sails all out of the west Under the silver moon: Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep.   -Lord Alfred Tennyson Filed under: poem, poem of the day, poet,…

  • Poem of the Day: The Visitant

    Nina Alvarez
    1 Apr 2013 | 12:37 pm
    HAPPY FIRST DAY OF NATIONAL POETRY MONTH!   1 A cloud moved close. The bulk of the wind shifted. A tree swayed over water. A voice said: Stay. Stay by the slip-ooze. Stay. Dearest tree, I said, may I rest here? A ripple made a soft reply. I waited, alert as a dog. The leech clinging to a stone waited; And the crab, the quiet breather. 2 Slow, slow as a fish she came, Slow as a fish coming forward, Swaying in a long wave; Her skirts not touching a leaf, Her white arms reaching towards me. She came without sound, Without brushing the wet stones, In the soft dark of early evening, She came,…

  • 6 Years of Celebrating Poetry! And nearly 200,000 hits.

    Nina Alvarez
    7 Mar 2013 | 8:54 pm
    Happy 6th Birthday to this little poetry site. I want to thank it and thank its readers for being such a source of pleasure to me. I have done little to facilitate it: sharing my favorite poems, posting once in a while, but it seems to thrive nonetheless. In honor of this – as well as nearing 200,000 hits – here is one of my favorite poems by Rilke. I first posted it in 2009, but only part. Here is the whole thing:   For the Sake of a Single Poem   …Ah, poems amount to so little when you write them to early in your life. You ought to wait and gather sense and sweetness…

  • Poem of the Day: How Do You Make a Living as a Writer?

    Nina Alvarez
    15 Feb 2013 | 6:03 pm
    You know there is no money in poetry; you know that there isn’t. And still you write your poems. You know there is no money in publishing; you know that there isn’t. And still you write your books. People ask me: How do I make a living as a writer? I say if you are trying to make a living, you are doing it wrong. Come to this place bestowed on you with reverence. Let there be no moneylenders in your temple. Come often enough with all that you have, asking nothing but to be there at that one particular altar. Then, maybe after a long time, you will go home and find your coffers full of…

  • Poem of the Day: Sonnets from the Portuguese XXV

    Nina Alvarez
    18 Jan 2013 | 2:05 am
      A heavy heart, Beloved, have I borne From year to year until I saw thy face, And sorrow after sorrow took the place Of all those natural joys as lightly worn As the stringed pearls, each lifted in its turn By a beating heart at dance-time. Hopes apace Were changed to long despairs, till God’s own grace Could scarcely lift above the world forlorn My heavy heart. Then thou didst bid me bring And let it drop adown thy calmly great Deep being! Fast it sinketh, as a thing Which its own nature does precipitate, While thine doth close above it, mediating Betwixt the stars and the…
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    Poetmeister ...on the road to Parnassus

  • Memorial Day

    janetleigh
    27 May 2013 | 1:00 am
    Ordinary men act extraordinary, fierce purpose prevails. A band of brothers fight to the death for each other and the world-at-large. War, like it or not, determines one’s survival. “Life” does not take sides. Peace is an ideal; easier said than done, right? Honor our fallen. Life at war with life; there is no permanent peace ’til heaven’s on Earth. Armed Services all remind me their loyalty: one Band of Brothers. Stark reality sinks in.  Strangers died for me! Life is greatest gift. Nation under God, One Purpose, One way of Life: Brother’s Keepers all. I bow to fallen soldiers…

  • Independence Day – 2012 – 4th of July

    janetleigh
    4 Jul 2012 | 7:26 pm
    Let us not forget our heritage won in blood shed by forefathers, sons mothers daughters father’s will and freedom’s gift *To Be Left Alone* the right to decide where we live, who we help and what we think, is ours not based on kings screed men’s greed, slaves freed, those who lead or kangaroo courts. We alone decide with God’s grace and will as guide be governed wise; men of truth and faith, goodwill towards All, self-abased, best from common place. Our Nation shall, Sir Wise, survive the test of time devised by wise men. Nations face crises, our is not exempt. …

  • ‘Golgatha’ by Glenn Buttkus

    janetleigh
    8 Apr 2012 | 3:15 am
    GOLGATHA I am the Christ, he whispered, and they laughed at him; at his thin unshaven face, at his long blood-caked hair. But no one looked at his eyes the way I did. He could have told them, if they would but listen. He remembered Antonia, the cold castle walls and the cockroaches that chewed his ankles. The club and the chain, and the many-tailed whip that tore hunks of flesh from his body. Roman guards that had beat him. Thorns in his hair tearing at his scalp. Men who had feared him, pummeled him with their fear, Blackening his eyes; those sad eyes that could see infinity. Herod was fat,…

  • Easter OBITUARY

    janetleigh
    8 Apr 2012 | 2:15 am
    Tagged: 33 AD, Calvary, Easter 2011, Easter OBITUARY, Golgatha, Our Lord and Savior Christ Jesus

  • Gold mine

    janetleigh
    26 Aug 2011 | 1:06 am
    Gem Fall by Teresa Young Love visions emerge. Mother lode of emotions sift gems through gold pan. Tagged: gratitude, Love's gold mine, Poetmeister, sifting memories
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    Wade on Birmingham » Daily Haiku

  • in the bones

    Wade Kwon
    18 Jun 2013 | 10:00 pm
    The weariness of existence permeated his flagging body. Read more haiku. Subscribe via RSS to Wade’s Daily Haiku. Or have it delivered daily by e-mail.

  • the power of the power pen

    Wade Kwon
    17 Jun 2013 | 10:00 pm
    The ideas the words tumbled forth pouring waves of unwieldy prose. Read more haiku. Subscribe via RSS to Wade’s Daily Haiku. Or have it delivered daily by e-mail.

  • condition clear, condition red

    Wade Kwon
    16 Jun 2013 | 10:00 pm
    A furious wave of panic rose within, then left. Trembling remains. Read more haiku. Subscribe via RSS to Wade’s Daily Haiku. Or have it delivered daily by e-mail.

  • branch dressing

    Wade Kwon
    15 Jun 2013 | 10:00 pm
    Tendrils snag any low-hanging limb, tangoing their way to the sky. Read more haiku. Subscribe via RSS to Wade’s Daily Haiku. Or have it delivered daily by e-mail.

  • rise of the cyber impostors

    Wade Kwon
    14 Jun 2013 | 10:00 pm
    Online, everyone is me and I am hidden among the fakers. Read more haiku. Subscribe via RSS to Wade’s Daily Haiku. Or have it delivered daily by e-mail.
 
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    Surroundings

  • A Few Transtromer Nuggets

    Rob
    15 Jun 2013 | 5:17 am
    ‘...a biblical saying never set down: “Come unto me, for I am as full of contradictions as you.”’ (Tomas Transtromer, ‘Below Freezing’)‘Many workshop poets comb their personal memory and write poems about their childhood, filling the poems with a clutter of detail. This clutter sometimes ensures that the piece will remain “a piece of writing” and will not become “a work of art”’ (Robert Bly – ‘Tomas Transtromer and “The Memory”)'So much we have to trust, simply to live through our daily day without sinking through the earth!Trust the piled snow clinging to the…

  • A David Bowie Retropective - 1. Tonight (1984)

    Rob
    14 Jun 2013 | 2:52 am
    I was listening to David Bowie’s classic seventies material, which contains arguably the best songwriting and most influential body of work in rock music history, and I realised I hadn’t paid much attention to his later work, specifically the albums since Let’s Dance brought Bowie to a mass commercial audience in 1983. I have decided to listen to the albums he’s brought out in the last 30 years (30 years!) and see what he’s been up to all this time. I have hopes for the more recent stuff. Not so much for the eighties and nineties, but I am open to be proved wrong or at least to hear…

  • Notting Hill and Hollywood Values

    Rob
    22 Jan 2013 | 5:57 am
    What a grim day yesterday was! Blue Monday, apparently, and it lived up to its name here with a dark sky and periodic blizzards, which ‘got’ me more or less every time I was caught between places with no shelter. Umbrellas are useless in Edinburgh. I don’t even know why anyone stocks them in the shops. None could have survived yesterday’s crosswinds.So, last night after 9pm, I was tired and fed up and in no mood to write or read and there was nothing worth watching on the TV, so I decided I would watch ITV2’s millionth repeat of Notting Hill, Roger Michell‘s 1999 movie starring…

  • The Next Big Thing

    Rob
    16 Jan 2013 | 12:58 am
    I’ve been tagged by poet and Magma secretary Jennifer Wongto give this interview for an expanding blog project called The Next Big Thing. You can read her interview here. The idea is to say something about the process of writing a forthcoming book or manuscript. I am supposed to post my thoughts and then tag other writers to do the same on 23 January 2013, although this date is flexible. I am a week late myself.Where did the idea come from for the book?The idea emerged mainly from the process of writing it. In the second half of 2011, I placed all the better poems I’d written since…

  • Christian Ward and Plagiarism

    Rob
    15 Jan 2013 | 2:56 pm
    Plagiarism is wrong, I’m in no doubt about that. It is intellectual and (sometimes) emotional theft. It is wrong, but it is not anything like as wrong as, say, murder, rape, or even the fact that up to half of the food bought in Europe and the USA ends up in rubbish bins – that really is worthy of scandal.Christian Ward’s plagiarism of poems by Helen Mort, Tim Dooley, Paisley Rekdal, Janice Soderling, and others (does anyone seriously think there won’t be others?) has been shared so many times on Facebook and so much has been said about it – much of it virulent and hysterical, in my…
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    GotPoetry.com News

  • News Magazine for Writers

    18 Jun 2013 | 10:15 pm
    A contest oriented helpful on line magazine for writers of all descriptions including poets. http://winningwriters.com/newsletter/public/2013/nl_public_1306.htm

  • Two Langston Hughes poetry reading events in Reno

    18 Jun 2013 | 11:53 am
    Two Langston Hughes community poetry reading events are offered in conjunction with the 2013 Nevada Humanities Chautauqua festival. The first is at 6:30 p.m. Wednesday at Sundance Books and Music, 121 California Ave. The second is at 2 p.m. June 22 at the South Valleys Library, 15650A Wedge Parkway, Reno.. Link!

  • Two poetry contests looking for submissions

    18 Jun 2013 | 11:51 am
    Poetry News: Any subject or style of poetry or prose poetry is acceptable. Poems should be original and consist of 24 lines or less.Link!

  • Johnson: A cherished poet is honored as 'ours'

    18 Jun 2013 | 9:22 am
    The house also celebrates Warren's poetry, the second part of his one-two literary punch. He was the nation's first Poet Laureate and won two Pulitzer prizes for ...Link!

  • Persian Poets' Tour 2013

    18 Jun 2013 | 9:05 am
    Poetry News: Persian poetry is famed for the richness of its heritage, with many classical poets such as Rumi and Hafez read internationally.Link!
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    Poems and Poetics

  • Pierre Joris: from DIS/ASTER [Part 3 of RIGWRECK], with an Author's Note

    Jerome Rothenberg
    18 Jun 2013 | 6:31 am
    Disaster: not thought gone awrywhen all this first started             my body broke out into real bad rashes                        my eyes my face my neck my chest my back my shoulders big giant holes on the back of my legs,             holes the size of a #2…

  • Diane Rothenberg: On the Insanity of Cornplanter, Part Two (redux)

    Jerome Rothenberg
    14 Jun 2013 | 3:33 am
    [During a month of travels -- to Romania & Paris -- I will be posting some pieces published previously in the early days of Poems and Poetics, to keep the site fully active while I'm away from the home base. For those following this on the Jacket2 site, the postings will of course be seen as if for the first time. (J.R.)]Four Iroquois chiefs painted from life, circa 1710The existence of the content of Cornplanter’s visions is serendipitous.  A copy of the manuscript (or the original) was in the collection of the Cornplanter family aand was found and recopied by  a young man,…

  • Bruce Stater: from ‘The Journey of Metaphor & Remembrance’ in Labyrinth of Vision (redux)

    Jerome Rothenberg
    10 Jun 2013 | 5:05 am
    [During a month of travels -- to Romania & Paris -- I will be posting some pieces published previously in the early days of Poems and Poetics, to keep the site fully active while I'm away from the home base. For those following this on the Jacket2 site, the postings will of course be seen as if for the first time. (J.R.)]Say the poem is a journeytaken with silent walking stickson a path strewn with memoriesdeaf, dumb,blind & beyond measure.Its mouth filled with wordsits pockets filled with stale bread.Say it is an elixir derived from chlorophyllor the royal jelly of expressionistic…

  • from Daichidoron: 32 Ways of Looking at the Buddha (redux), with 13 Buddhas of My Own

    Jerome Rothenberg
    6 Jun 2013 | 5:54 am
    for Hiromi Ito      (1) When the Buddha walks. his feet are so close to the ground that there is not even a hair's space between his soles & the earth; (2)  the imprint of a wheel appears on the soles of the Buddha's feet; (3)  the Buddha's fingers are exceptionally long & slender; (4)  the Buddha's heels are broad, round & smooth; (5)  the Buddha has a web-like membrane between his fingers & toes; (6)  the skin of the Buddha’s hands & feet is soft & smooth; (7)  the Buddha’s feet have unusually high insteps;…

  • Heinrich Heine: Two Poems, after the French Transcreations by Gerard de Nerval

    Jerome Rothenberg
    2 Jun 2013 | 5:54 am
     [During a month of travels -- to Romania & Paris -- I will be posting some pieces published previously in the early days of Poems and Poetics, to keep the site fully active while I'm away from the home base. For those following this on the Jacket2 site, the postings will of course be seen as if for the first time. (J.R.)]H. Heine (1797-1856) on cover of Die Jugend, 1906                [To be noted: the high credit that Heine gave to Gerard de Nerval for his French prose versions after the German rhymed…
 
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    Wild Horses Of Fire

  • The Death and Life of American Cities May 26, 2013

    Thom Donovan
    10 Jun 2013 | 12:14 pm
    The Death and Life of American Cities May 26, 2013 &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&************ Jennifer Tamayo#$%%%%%%%% Brandon Brown^^^^^^ Frances Richard))))))))))))))Judah Rubin ((((((((((((((((((Charley Lanning****^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^Geoffery Olsen ((((on-goin' feature::::: "Pedagogy")))) _____------_______Samuel Solomon ___------------------------///// --------> from from Reproducing the Line:.1970s Innovative Poetry and Socialist-Feminism in the U.K #************ Thom Donovan @@@@@@ -----((((exercise on Bruce Boone's Century of Clouds…

  • Scary Topiary's Arthur Echo PDF

    Thom Donovan
    10 Jun 2013 | 12:12 pm
    A (Soma)tic collaboration, ARTHUR ECHO documents a Winter 2009 day [CA] Conrad and [Thom] Donovan spent listening to cellist Arthur Russell's WORLD OF ECHO on a twelve-hour loop in a five-story Philadelphia house. This chapbook appropriately inhabits the pop music tradition of the split single, as both poets tune into Russell's masterpiece to generate separate sets of notes on occult topics like angel milk & rock salt, the nutritive body, ecophenomenology, and lyric poetry. A unique tribute to Russell that conjures a reverberant portrait of close-listening and vital friendship from…

  • Cee Vee

    Thom Donovan
    24 May 2013 | 8:53 am
    I am currently seeking employment in archive management, freelance journalism/criticism, and education/academia (Modern & Contemporary Poetry, Poetics, Emergent Journalism, Creative Writing, Visual Art Practice/History, Interdisciplinary Studies).Here is a link to my CV.

  • Appropriation and Affective Production In Rob Halpern's “Obscene Intimacies”

    Thom Donovan
    2 May 2013 | 11:30 am
    Inspired by Eileen Myles' piece in The Volta, I am posting an essay which originally appeared last summer, in the "Crisis Inquiry" issue of Damn the Caesars (ed. Rich Owens)._______________Last year at School of Visual Arts I taught a class titled “Appropriations: 1915-present.” One of my goals for this class was to consider various uses of collage, documentation, appropriation, citation, and recontextualization within a Modernist/avant-garde writing tradition. Another goal, not explicitly stated by my course objectives, was to discover how these techniques have and could affect…

  • Lit

    Thom Donovan
    25 Apr 2013 | 9:59 pm
    --after Marissa Perel's Night Ballast It's like blue was enoughNot moonlit not sunlit but lit all the sameWhat the night saysThat the body spiritless doesn't already sayBefore we had names or blue was identifiedAs what remains from movingIt takes one to know oneHumility who was afraid to sayWe are all Homo Sacer Whose hands were remains Humble because they've known humilityProne the sun is brazen to come out like this a parody of all that is visibleInvisible withdrawing from whose pain is everything dance could inscribeLike a spotlight without a spotlightLike a song of joy when…
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    32 Poems Magazine » Blog

  • A Rabbit’s Foot

    georgedavidclark
    17 Jun 2013 | 5:27 am
    Contributor’s Marginalia: Amit Majmudar on “Fly” by Richie Hofman There’s a “20 under 40” list The New Yorker has for novelists, but if there were a “15 under 30” list for poets, Richie Hofmann would be on it. It seems the Poetry Foundation agrees with me on that. “Fly” begins in Pliny and ends in love. Not a bad natural history for a poem. The compound Epcot-center eye of the fly is the perfect rabbit’s foot against blindness. I would keep a cockroach against death. The title, “Fly,” refers both to the insect—and the “flighty” lover. Daphne flies from…

  • 32 Poems 11.1 On its Way to Fine Mailboxes Everywhere

    georgedavidclark
    1 Jun 2013 | 1:39 pm
    The latest 32 Poems shipped yesterday, so American subscribers should start checking their mailboxes the first of next week. In this number we feature new poems from Chad Davidson, Anna Journey, Amit Majmudar, Caki Wilkinson and nearly two-dozen other poets as fine as you’ll find anywhere. The issue has been a joy to put together and we can’t to share with readers. Let us know what you think, and of course if you don’t yet have a subscription, now’s the time to remedy that. Follow this link to get your copy on its way. In the meantime here’s a sneak peek to whet…

  • Weekly Prose Feature: “Usually a Window, But Occasionally a Stage: An Interview with Matthew Olzmann” by Emilia Phillips

    Emilia Phillips
    31 May 2013 | 5:23 am
    Matthew Olzmann is the author of Mezzanines (Alice James Books). His poems have appeared in New England Review, Kenyon Review, The Southern Review, Inch, Gulf Coast and elsewhere. With Ross White, he coedited Another and Another: An Anthology from the Grind Daily Writing Series. He’s received fellowships and scholarships from Kundiman, the Kresge Arts Foundation, The Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference, and the Kenyon Review Writers Workshop. Currently, he teaches in the undergraduate writing program at Warren Wilson College and is the poetry editor of The Collagist. Emilia Phillips: First of…

  • Weekly Prose Feature: “‘Invention Aids Understanding’: An Interview with Dana Levin” by Emilia Phillips

    Emilia Phillips
    24 May 2013 | 6:11 am
    Dana Levin is the author of In the Surgical Theatre, Wedding Day, and Sky Burial, which The New Yorker called “utterly her own and utterly riveting.” Levin’s poetry and essays have appeared recently in The New York Times, Los Angeles Review of Books, APR, Agni, and Poetry. A recipient of fellowships and awards from the Rona Jaffe, Whiting and Guggenheim Foundations, Levin teaches at Santa Fe University of Art and Design in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Emilia Phillips: Let’s start at the surface and work our way deeper. Your poems constantly reinvent themselves on the page. In just three…

  • Weekly Prose Feature: “‘No Subject Should Be Taboo’: An Audio Interview with David Wojahn by Emilia Phillips, with Transcript”

    Emilia Phillips
    17 May 2013 | 12:16 pm
    David Wojahn was born in St. Paul, Minnesota, in 1953, and educated at the University of Minnesota and the University of Arizona. His first collection, Icehouse Lights, was chosen by Richard Hugo as a winner of the Yale Series of Younger Poets prize, and published in 1982. The collection was also the winner of the Poetry Society of America’s William Carlos Williams Book Award. His second collection, Glassworks, was published by the University of Pittsburgh Press in 1987, and was awarded the Society of Midland Authors’ Award for best volume of poetry to be published during that…
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    Sad Poems

  • Deflated Balloons

    16 Jun 2013 | 8:15 pm
    wear the thunder with a shifting serendipity. just barely loud enough to hear. voices turn colors. the scrape of the wind. nudges the shadows. as the stubborn glass fights the sun. the idle numbers. this sweating betrayal. as the world slips away. meekly interrupted. rumbles of skin. like heavy clouds. too shy to rain on us. every monster with a new name. every corner with an angle obstuse. the motor fumbles with the mechanics of idle. motion all it knows. time is a series of nooses. we are not linear, though our skin would argue differently. time boasts its angles. and swelling circles. the…

  • Embalming Auctions

    13 Jun 2013 | 8:46 pm
    you'll see me there, but it's someone else. a goblin imitating the mirror. a stranger trying on my skin. ignoring the wrinkles. excited by the darkness. searching for alone in a hurricane of faces. desperately remembering the quiet edge as the loud one approaches. you'll see the tar. the dense portal of silence that sits between us. i've been searching for the map. all my life. still haven't found it. voices like blank paper. taunting me to read what was never there. i try to remember the world i knew before. the inside. all jelly and vinegar. thick and sharp stabs to the senses. and their…

  • Limping Horses

    10 Jun 2013 | 8:56 pm
    heavy scars like soup and bones. spoiling. the lost meat lingering. steeping in the foul baths of frail wars. the deaf soldiers of skin. and our words' blind warriors. perishing together in their thirsty apocalypse. patiently waiting. for our pencils to break. and our blades to bend. the edges spoil us. with rabid temptations. consequence on the other side of dense walls. sober songs put her to sleep. an invasion of flesh. more curtain than wizard. the fairy tale choking on the science. as the space comes forward to define us. so small we are. in the shadow of these crippled clouds. all empty…

  • Sober Villains

    7 Jun 2013 | 9:34 pm
    broken locks and heavy doors. scribble absent faces. the charm of death uses her. a blackjack of strangers. guilty with kings and aces. a dead flower on the barren floor. mindlessly giving names to things that have no faces. identity comes in floods. waxing wolves with faces in their claws.this temporary pain is exciting. as the infection spreads. swelling gods with transparent robes. dole out life in a mosaic of skin. broken shards drawing their images. in blind metaphors and heavy medicines. she waits for the wind to inhale. in her broken cup. on the tedious mountain. she climbs. the coy…

  • Beautiful Poison

    6 Jun 2013 | 9:31 pm
    when the end comes it will be soft. cardboard eyes and clay tongues. trembling with whispers dew drops. the broken lamp. the dead switch. the tornado. all these things virulent inside her head. a long and painful infection. the razor boasts blood and pus. only tendons interfere. the bullet promises a quick oblivion. only cowardice poisons the plan. the drugs leverage addiction and release. slow and deliberate. never enough. a thin spectre of death that tears at every tug. the end comes in silence. a funeral absent words. and starving for the dead. a constant hunger. tears in the glass listen…
 
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    anachronizms

  • mcmxxxii

    18 Jun 2013 | 9:40 pm
    I forgot why I was doing this.   I forgot why I was doing this.Stranger conversations than this have begun withless enthusiasm.  And tasted less like onions.The bubblegum in his mouth grew less and less dry, like the language of commodity.  If I really knewthat I were here would I really care?  Rather than, say,there?  My primary plant wilted as this did not blowmy mind.  At all.  For emphasis?  Which threw me intoa bingo frenzy.  I daubed well into the night and awokefrom a narcotic frenzy of shallow, binary dreams.  Andto discover that…

  • mcmxxxi

    17 Jun 2013 | 3:14 pm
    He must have a different pair of software than I doI thought one of the rules was that it was okay so long as he’s straight.  (Hewants to come stay the night.  Like on a Thursday and a Monday or something).Omigod someone’s calling and I’m not answering the phone.  (That’s the 4th one.I’ve gotten 4 so far.)Don’t you make fun of me just yet.

  • mcmxxx

    9 Jun 2013 | 11:41 am
    a twist in my sobrietythere are only 2 things i will ever ask of youin this next 5 minutes:1. strawberry milkand 2. afrin

  • mcmxxix

    8 Jun 2013 | 2:40 pm
    heyhellooooi just wanna check to make surethatit’swellit’s okfor meu knowto go to the living roomfor just a couple of seconds yo(& i'm a wee bit in the raw...)...coast all clear?rogerand out

  • mcmxxviii

    7 Jun 2013 | 1:35 pm
    If literature has a holy task, is it to resurrect the dead?                                                                  —Lyn HejinianIt’s a joyous Christmas in the tunnel of lovedespite all the hacking and sneezing.Christmas came ten months early this yearand we…
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    Chicano Poet

  • 18 Jun 2013 | 5:17 pm

    18 Jun 2013 | 5:17 pm
    MolcajeteThe cherry tomatoof her thighslike a molcajetethe hot stuff poundedthe lava stoneflakes flyingher pyramidsin the distanceoh Mejico Mejicoher called her namethe volcanowill spew lavathe volcanowill spew stonesuntil naturehas been satisfied.

  • 13 Jun 2013 | 6:57 pm

    13 Jun 2013 | 6:57 pm
    CamaroThe vinyl roofon his Camarohad rotted awaylike mintwhy she had becomeobsessed with himno one knewin a worldfull of nobodieshe was her only squeezeas they cruisedthe angry townwith chihuahuasin towthe wordnot the doghe in his boxer shortsshe in her satin pantiesedible or nothe ate themthat rusty Camarowas quite a treat.

  • 12 Jun 2013 | 4:32 pm

    12 Jun 2013 | 4:32 pm
    Mal MascarasHis abuela knew wellthat he was worse than cactus thornsla zorra slinkingbetween garbage canshe'd downfresh hot tortillas with no respectlike a normal hijo de lapicked cottonbut from a muchacha's blousehis proclivities were no angelshis abuela knewhis dark sidewhich had to bespit out like sandia seedsyet she loved him madlyher favorite grandson Mal Mascaras.

  • 6 Jun 2013 | 4:56 pm

    6 Jun 2013 | 4:56 pm
    Blessed Be The Fruit Of Thy WombHer namewhich starts with the letter Eeats him aliveher white skinfirm as a tongueher dark hairmakes him deliriousher lipsput forth at nightwhen sinsbecome prominenton the surfaceof the moonhe holds herclose to his chesthe searches her wingswith ravenous eyesindecent with desireworldbe damned.

  • 5 Jun 2013 | 3:11 pm

    5 Jun 2013 | 3:11 pm
    RecuerdosThe moon floating in her beerlike a light bulbher girlfriendtagging along as a testkeep your tearsin the basementher mother had always told herthe pond behindher childhood homebrokenthe bicycleshe'd gotten at eightofficially her ponyrusted in a shedprom dresses and skinned kneesa thing of themendedragged edge.
 
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    the dust congress

  • 13 Jun 2013 | 2:58 pm

    13 Jun 2013 | 2:58 pm
    Call Me, Call Me Any Anytime Call Me Chris Protopapas, telephone shop nyc, 1976 * Excerpt from Land of Hope and Dreams: Rock and Roll, and the Rebuilding the Middle Class: The music industry is a microcosm of what is happening in the U.S. economy at large. We are increasingly becoming a “winner-take-all economy,” a phenomenon that the music industry has long experienced. Over recent

  • 11 Jun 2013 | 3:57 am

    11 Jun 2013 | 3:57 am
    I'd like to know completely what others so discretely talk about Alma W. Thomas, Spring Grass, 1973 Three Poems by Richard Brautigan: 15% she tries to get things out of men that she can't get because she's not 15% prettier I Live In The Twentieth Century I live in the Twentieth Century and you lie here beside me. You were unhappy when you fell asleep. There was nothing I could do

  • 3 Jun 2013 | 8:20 pm

    3 Jun 2013 | 8:20 pm
    it's the simple stuff I need Pep Suari, A Patchy Woman, 2005 * Watch the book trailer for Klipschutz' This Drawn and Quartered Moon. * Download all issues of Ed Sanders' mimeograph mag: Fuck You, A Magazine of the Arts. * "Give me the luxuries of life and I will willingly do without the necessities." -- Frank Lloyd Wright

  • 30 May 2013 | 7:16 pm

    30 May 2013 | 7:16 pm
    Her mind was dirty but her hands were clean At the temple beautiful Sofya Mirvis, 2009 * Dust Congress House Poet Klipschutz has a new book out, This Drawn & Quartered Moon. Buy it now! More Soon..... Worn Words -- W.S. Merwin The late poems are the ones I turn to first now following a hope that keeps beckoning me waiting somewhere in the lines almost in plain sight it is the late poems

  • 22 May 2013 | 10:49 pm

    22 May 2013 | 10:49 pm
    The past keeps knock, knock, knocking on my door And I don't want to hear it anymore Ann Sanfedele, 7th Street between 1st and 2nd NYC, early 1970s (note that the egg shop on the right is only open Thursday) * From Harper's June 2013: -- Percentage change in the past twenty years in the Consumer Price Index: +41 -- In the price of beer: +40 -- Of Books: -1 -- Number of students
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    rooted

  • escaping from banality

    gautami tripathy
    16 Jun 2013 | 9:19 am
    The Promenade, 1918, by Marc Chagall  don't you dare giggle she is not flying it is just a crazy illusion her chattering teeth shatters the silence I will scoop some moonshine that will... [[ This is a content summary only. Visit my website for full links, other content, and more! ]]

  • universe will not hand it over to you

    gautami tripathy
    9 Jun 2013 | 7:12 pm
    you need to escape from your solitude let your shimmering emotions spill into the curb let your steps direct you towards the yard watch the thundering jets the spewing hatred within... [[ This is a content summary only. Visit my website for full links, other content, and more! ]]

  • dance of life

    gautami tripathy
    3 Jun 2013 | 10:54 am
    Waking, Walking, Singing, in the Next Dimension? 1979 by Morris Graves  each one of us swirl with the wind- limbs move with nimble grace. in the train of thoughts; no myth can exist in the... [[ This is a content summary only. Visit my website for full links, other content, and more! ]]

  • gravity rolls around defying physics

    gautami tripathy
    20 May 2013 | 8:22 am
    Lighthouse Dandelions by Jamie Wyeth  in the bleak darkness dandelions seem so nebulous the clouds hover to take away the light such a vision for someone who is watching from up... [[ This is a content summary only. Visit my website for full links, other content, and more! ]]

  • chants fill the mind rolling down to the heart

    gautami tripathy
    12 May 2013 | 9:16 am
    Old Couple: photo by Togan Gokbakar  do they wish to rekindle  to get that spark back to get back to that vow made long ago life now is such a drone chants are circling around them... [[ This is a content summary only. Visit my website for full links, other content, and more! ]]
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    something katy

  • she keeps winning him

    5 Jun 2013 | 10:41 am
    he woke up to the sound of morning commuters.  horns honking, pedestrians shouting.  a hammer or a wood pecker? he was shivering from a cold breeze. the window in the living room was wide open over the fire escape.  his hair was sticky from sweat.  his teeth felt fuzzy from all the cookies and cakes and coffee from the night before.  his knees were stiff from sleeping on a sofa.  he felt old,

  • the bake off

    4 Jun 2013 | 7:37 pm
    his shirt was hung to dry, and she insisted it would need to be ironed.  so he had no choice.  he had to stay.  but for this he was grateful.  he had nowhere else to go. so he stayed. and they spent the time it took for a fine linen shirt to dry in a small humid apartment by competing in the kitchen.  specifically, they held a two-person bake off.  he made chocolate chip cookies with ground

  • hand washed

    3 Jun 2013 | 11:54 am
    he watched carefully as the young woman thrust his fine linen shirt in and out of the sink basin.  she'd filled the sink with hot water and woolite to wash it.  he watched her, gave her his full attention, ignoring the café between his hands.  the fine china warming to nearly unbearably hot in his hands.  her knuckles grew redder with each dunk into the hot, soapy water.  he held back the

  • his last shirt

    2 Jun 2013 | 8:57 am
    he watched a young woman remove his three hundred euro shirt from the grungy laundromat machine.  it was his last shirt.  he was paralyzed from saving it.  he watches as she unfurled it. the corners of her mouth turned down in a frown before she looked around, holding the shirt out in front of her.  paralyzed and embarrassed.  everything was falling apart. his marriage, his house, his job,

  • early morning news

    28 May 2013 | 10:51 am
    dan woke up to the smell of bacon. irresistible. he rolled over on his pillow, still sleepy.  he read the clock and rubbed his eyes.  as he clobbered down the stairs in his dressing gown the scent of coffee accompanied him.     sissy was there, slippers and hair pinned back with a spatula in her hand, frying mushrooms and eggs in the pan while the bacon cooked in the open oven.   "this is
 
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    Poetry Blog of Poems from Wordplay

  • Stateside Brothel.Poem.Robin Ouzman Hislop

    Robin
    15 Jun 2013 | 7:43 am
      She’s sat down at the large couch end, in the room is a grand piano bed, there’s a menu. Husband sent her because even on viagra he cant get it [...]

  • Galleon. Poem. Robin Ouzman Hislop

    Robin
    5 Jun 2013 | 11:06 am
          The music plays on as softly as the drizzle on the window pane, melodic & chained, insistent, after awakening from a bitten dream

  • Wordplay poem by David Michael Jackson

    site admin
    20 Mar 2013 | 11:19 pm
    Wordplay you say was it play then was it the trees then the trees and the wind and the child playing among the roots in the dirt in the dirt in the, no, in the wind. Do all the yesterdays go back as far as all the tomorrows go forward forward forever and backward backward [...]

  • Maps.Poem.Robin Ouzman Hislop

    Robin
    14 Jan 2013 | 12:23 pm
    Map 1. (i.) Extend the environment on a mental horizon, a fluctuation of memory embedded in the scene & a configuration of chance abreast with the makeshift reality: the rational mind hangs like a millsone around the neck as it grinds out the day. (ii.) On the periphery the [...]

  • Fragments from Hinterland.Poem.Robin Ouzman Hislop

    Robin
    14 Jan 2013 | 12:16 pm
    i. Morning brings the gull’s squall, surreal beyond the curtained windows, starting faint dawn’s debate flighting harsh and sweet. ii. The trees are ivy clad in a laurel bay, like a galleon’s mast & rigging sunk to the bottom of the sea. iii. Somewhere in the secret paths [...]
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    Silliman's Blog

  • 18 Jun 2013 | 9:00 pm

    18 Jun 2013 | 9:00 pm
    Slavoj Žižek <!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--> <!--[endif]--> talking on <!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--> <!--[endif]--> The Event: <!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--> <!--[endif]--> Politics, Art, Ontology <!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--> <!--[endif]--> at the University of London <!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--> <!--[endif]--> Birkbeck <!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine

  • 17 Jun 2013 | 9:02 pm

    17 Jun 2013 | 9:02 pm
    Kurt Brown ? – 2013

  • 17 Jun 2013 | 9:01 pm

    17 Jun 2013 | 9:01 pm
    Maurice Nadeau 1911 – 2013

  • 17 Jun 2013 | 9:00 pm

    17 Jun 2013 | 9:00 pm
    Madison Morrison 1938 – 2013

  • 16 Jun 2013 | 9:00 pm

    16 Jun 2013 | 9:00 pm
    The poetry of Solidarity Park Life in Taksim Square One writer freed, others in jeopardy in Turkey Soluble Personhood: on (and in) Julian Assange, Leslie Scalapino & Lucas De Lima Talking with Rae Armantrout Michael Redhill on Margaret Avison 25 things to know about sexism & misogyny in writing & publishing Dedicating Huffstickler Green The oldest book in the USA Philip Pullman:
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    Poet Hound

  • Drawing Water by Eva Heisler

    11 Jun 2013 | 3:17 am
    Published by Noctuary Press, Eva Heisler’s Drawing Water is a collection that focuses on lines and how they blur and come into focus, their very presence or absence when a line breaks or continues on, it brings forth imagery that is fresh and innovative. Samples below:The page is the body of a ghost (but I don’t believe in ghosts).--This line describes the intimidation of a blank page, in my mind. It is such a simple phrase and yet so poignant as we all stare at blank pages when trying to think of something new to say or write or how to respond, whether it is paper or e-mail or walls, the…

  • Sofisticated White Trash by JJ Campbell

    4 Jun 2013 | 3:23 am
    J.J. Campbell’s latest collection, Sofisticated White Trash, is published by Interior Noise Press and is filled with the raucous, the indiscreet, and the kinds of poems that live up to its title. This book is not for the faint-of-heart, Campbell writes the nitty gritty sides of life and tackles a wide range of topics from being the weird guy at the supermarket to sex to the feelings of being down and out. Below are some sample poems:a day in the lifeit was one of those rare occasionsthat i actually left my cageyou knowfor a few odds and endssome rays of sunshinea breath of fresh airor…

  • A Deep and Gorgeous Thirst by Hosho McCreesh

    21 May 2013 | 3:17 am
    Hosho McCreesh’s A Deep And Gorgeous Thirst is a collection of poems filled with drunken days and nights that will have you laughing or crying into your own drink, or you’ll want to raise your longneck and clink it so hard against your friend’s that it would shatter to the floor. It has everything a good raucous batch of drunken poems should have: tales of tragedy, comedy, and inspiration. Pour yourself a glass of wine or grab yourself a beer and sit down and enjoy reading. I’m proud to provide a brief sample of this 254 paged collection. I’ll only share two poems since they are…

  • Poems Found by Poet Hound

    15 May 2013 | 3:21 am
    https://sites.google.com/site/whiteknucklechaps/john-dutterer/in-the-center-of-an-asian-supermarket-there-is-a-black-hole-1“In the Center of an Asian Market There is a Black Hole” by John Duttererhttps://sites.google.com/site/whiteknucklechaps/john-dutterer/nuclear-appalachia/yukon/in-memory-of-ruben-gonzalez“In Memory of Ruben Gozales” by John DuttererThanks for clicking in, please stop by again next week…

  • Palimpsest by Kristina Marie Darling

    14 May 2013 | 3:32 pm
    Kristina Marie Darling’s collection, palimpsest, is published by Patasola Press and the definition of the word perfectly describes its interior: “a parchment or the like from which writing has been partially or completely erased to make room for another text.” Darling is known for her footnotes, appendixes, glossaries and this collection includes the same wonders as previous texts. This collection also includes chapters to a story we long to hear more of. What I love about Kristina Marie Darling’s work is that it ultimately touches a chord in you while allowing you the space to dream…
 
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    Harriet: The Blog

  • VICE Got All Necrophilic on Female Writer Suicides

    Harriet Staff
    18 Jun 2013 | 1:00 pm
    Jezebel’s Jenna Sauers was on it last night [1.5k reading her post as of this one] when she wrote about VICE’s newest “fashion spread,” since redacted, which attempted to shock us all with romantic/brutal reimaginings of some female writers at the exact moments of their stylish suicides. Captions for “Last Words” included designer notes for stockings mock-hanging Taiwanese author Sanmao, for instance [that's her, taken when alive, above]. Yep. The images from the shoot can still be seen, if you’re up for it, on Jezebel, but Vice did take down the post…

  • Jen Hofer’s Reads at HTMLGIANT Include Grace Period, Troubling the Line, More

    Harriet Staff
    18 Jun 2013 | 11:00 am
    We’re digging these lists of summer reads over at HTMLGiant–and today is Jen Hofer’s, which is particularly mindful, and Aaron Kunin-full, hooray (yes, we’re also reading Grace Period). More of the poetry! Grace Period: Notebooks, 1998-2007, Aaron Kunin (Letter Machine Editions, 2013) Here you will find at least two worlds, and then some. In an interview conducted by Tom Fleischmann in Seneca Review, Aaron Kunin said: “Is my interest in the gesture of withdrawal from the world compromised by the worldliness of the speaker positions in my writing? That is a real…

  • You Too Can Learn to Write Surrealist Poetry

    Harriet Staff
    18 Jun 2013 | 10:30 am
    No, it’s not bootcamp, but it is a fantastic way to automate the poetry side of your brain. This Thursday the Annex at Spudnik Press is offering a workshop in surrealist poetry. Surrealist writers employed numerous approaches in order to create new, unexpected work and to access the unconscious mind. This workshop will explore such generative writing practices and ideas, from Automatic Writing to Cut-up and Collage. Students will exercise their minds through traditional surrealist games and techniques, leaving with brand new text and image based work ranging from absurd to profound.

  • Eric Baus on Barbara Guest’s ‘Saving Tallow’

    Harriet Staff
    18 Jun 2013 | 9:00 am
    Eric Baus writes about Barbara Guest for the Lost Roads Press blog, LINES, recalling her early poem “Saving Tallow”: Barbara Guest’s poem “Saving Tallow” from her book The Blue Stairs plays in my head on repeat, in small patches, almost daily. There are so many unpredictable, wildly assured lines in the poem (“There was once a shadow/called Luis; there was once an eyebrow/ whose name was Domingo”) and so many deft atmospheric shifts, but the lines that affect my body most when I hear them are: “no one drew back/the curtains; there were no curtains” In isolation, the…

  • Nominate the Next State Poet of Nebraska!

    Harriet Staff
    18 Jun 2013 | 7:30 am
    Resident of the Cornhusker State? This year, poets, you can nominate a fellow Nebraska-resident and poet, for the position of State Poet of Nebraska. From Nebraska Arts Council: The Nebraska Arts Council (NAC), Humanities Nebraska (HN), and the Nebraska Library Commission (NLC) are seeking nominations for the next Nebraska State Poet, a designation that recognizes and honors a Nebraska poet of exceptional talent and accomplishment. Nominations must be submitted online no later than midnight, CST on July 26, 2013. Nominations may be made by any organization or individual in the state of…
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    One Poet's Notes

  • Lightsey Darst: "June"

    18 Jun 2013 | 7:50 pm
    The VPR Poem of the Week is Lightsey Darst’s “June,” which appeared in the Spring/Summer 2008 issue (Volume IX, Number 1) of Valparaiso Poetry Review. Lightsey Darst received a National Endowment for the Arts Fellowship for Literature in 2007. Her work has been published in Antioch Review, Gulf Coast, The Literary Review, New Letters, and elsewhere. She is the author of Find the Girl (Coffee House Press, 2010). Also a dancer, she writes about dance for The Huffington Post.  Tuesday of each week One Poet’s Notes highlights an excellent work by a poet selected from the issues…

  • Photo of the Week: "Weir Bridge in Late Spring"

    14 Jun 2013 | 10:02 pm
    I remind all interested that my new photographs are available at a daily photo journal blog. I invite everyone to visit the blog for commentary about the photo and to click on the images there to examine them in high resolution or to magnify them for a detailed look.

  • Donald Stinson: "On Three Hats of My Father's"

    13 Jun 2013 | 9:52 am
    The VPR Poem of the Week is Donald Stinson’s “On Three Hats of My Father's,” which appears in the Fall/Winter 2004-2005 issue (Volume VI, Number 1) of Valparaiso Poetry Review. Donald Stinson has had poems published in Briar Cliff Review, Loonfeather, Southwestern American Literature, and Verve.  He teaches writing, literature, and humanities at Northern Oklahoma College.  Tuesday of each week One Poet’s Notes highlights an excellent work by a poet selected from the issues of Valparaiso Poetry Review, except when other posts with news or updates preempt the usual…

  • Photo of the Week: "Lake Seen Through Trees"

    9 Jun 2013 | 9:11 pm
    I remind all interested that my new photographs are available at a daily photo journal blog. I invite everyone to visit the blog for commentary about the photo and to click on the images there to examine them in high resolution or to magnify them for a detailed look.

  • Jeff Knorr: "Alfalfa"

    4 Jun 2013 | 9:23 pm
    The VPR Poem of the Week is Jeff Knorr’s “Alfalfa,” which appears in the Spring/Summer 2013 issue (Volume XIV, Number 2) of Valparaiso Poetry Review. Jeff Knorr is the author of three books of poetry, The Third Body (Cherry Grove Collections), Keeper (Mammoth Books), and Standing Up to the Day (Pecan Grove Press).  His other works include Mooring Against the Tide: Writing Poetry and Fiction (Prentice Hall); the anthology, A Writer's Country (Prentice Hall); and The River Sings: An Introduction to Poetry (Prentice Hall). Knorr lives in Sacramento, California and is Professor of…
 
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    Dunstan Carter : Poetry

  • A Bird’s Song Released

    dc
    12 Jun 2013 | 11:45 am
    When I die I want my soul To curl into rings of smoke, Hovering at my wake And inhaled slowly By the ones I loved and left; A smoke that tickles chests And prompts a thousand memories, Funny stories passed on, Shared in bars and at parties As hearts flutter happy. I want to be kept alive in song, In certain words strung together, Like the passwords Of true friendships, A golden reason for living; And in the midst of the forest Where my ashes blow free, I want to gaze at the sky, Dizzy with peace, Busy no longer – a bird’s song released.

  • The Hollywood Freeway

    dc
    8 Jun 2013 | 8:05 am
    I caught the never too truthful sycophants Feasting on waste in the lay-bys, The circling buzzards couldn’t get a look in. The road let off the fizzy aroma of celebrity, Dreams passed by like butterfly trails And the birdsong concluded its fanfare. Fame is fleeting and random by nature, All multiple destinations unshackled from patterns, As fragile as the beggars who crave it; And here I am now in the left over dust clouds, Choking on dirt that tastes like dead laughter, The kind that you find on the Hollywood Freeway.

  • Differently

    dc
    4 Jun 2013 | 5:11 pm
    Here we all roll Through our Series of moments, Not letting on; And here we all stutter As something unexplained Shudders into our lives. Imagine If we did nothing But interpret Things differently And glide.

  • In The Dark

    dc
    28 May 2013 | 5:23 pm
    The mist As it slowly Reveals buildings, The night sky Minutes before Dawn bursts, The autumn wind As it whips Its confusion; You’re there In my head As I wander, I leave my love In the dark.

  • The Truth

    dc
    21 May 2013 | 2:58 pm
    When doubts hurry breath Shake trees until the leaves fall And call it the truth
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    Frozen well

  • Striking a new note

    Naren
    1 Jun 2013 | 10:33 pm
    Hi, It’s been some time now. I am hoping to be back with newer themes that involve some kickass badassery …Continue reading »
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    Robert Peake

  • British Poetry Special, Silk Road Review

    Robert Peake
    15 Jun 2013 | 6:32 am
    Today I received copies of Silk Road Review Issue 10, containing a feature on British Poetry that I edited for the journal. It features a wide range (in terms of age, occupation, background, and geography) of poets whose work I have come to admire in the two years since I relocated to the UK. From the introduction: So what is “British” about these poems? First, there is a unique focus on language, its heft and chewiness. To some extent, all good poetry takes up this cause. But in Great Britain, one’s use of language is intimately tied to one’s place of origin. A…

  • Cleansing the Wound

    Robert Peake
    11 Jun 2013 | 7:31 am
    In my latest poetry review on Huffington Post UK, I look at the newest collections of three poets with decidedly unique worldviews. More than this, what excites me about the trajectory in each collection is that in addressing gender, they have moved beyond postmodern deconstruction and disillusionment, expressing integrated perspectives whose reconciliation feels earned. That is, they do not simply open the wound for the sake of it, but to cleanse and thereby better heal. A nun spikes her drinks with sacramental wine and wears red lace underwear. A soldier’s wife sits by the bed of a…

  • Four Poems Online in The Galway Review

    Robert Peake
    31 May 2013 | 1:00 am
    It has been a good week for digital poetry. The Galway Review is now playing host to four new poems, starting with the four-part sequence “Apologies for All Seasons“. Given the weather we have been having throughout the British Isles lately, this seems quite appropriate. It is followed by three other poems involving dark religious imagery. Read the poems here.

  • Learning the Letters (Film-Poem)

    Robert Peake
    29 May 2013 | 3:42 pm
    <a href="https://vimeo.com/67239318" data-mce-href="https://vimeo.com/67239318"><img src="http://www.robertpeake.com/files/2013/05/child.png" style="max-width: 500px;" data-mce-src="http://www.robertpeake.com/files/2013/05/child.png" data-mce-style="max-width: 500px;" /><br />Click here to view the video</a> Learning the Letters Britton, South Dakota, 1939 "F" is for future, bright as a lens, bubbles in the scrubbing basin, thin as the skin on aunt Agnes's hand, the breakable surface of a pollywog egg. It's no shame to be poor, but a shame to be dirty, since soap is…

  • Four Poems Online in Boston Poetry Magazine

    Robert Peake
    27 May 2013 | 11:03 am
    I am pleased to have four poems in Boston Poetry Magazine, a new journal focusing on poetry from New England (and, in my case, Old England). The poems will appear in the print version later this year, and are also now available to read on the magazine’s website. Enjoy.
 
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    peony moon

  • Emily Berry: ‘A Sculpture about a Phone Call’

    peony moon
    17 Jun 2013 | 3:53 am
            Emily Berry is a poet, freelance writer and editor. She grew up in London and studied English Literature at Leeds University and Creative Writing at Goldsmiths College. An Eric Gregory Award winner in 2008, she co-edits the anthology series Stop Sharpening Your Knives and is a contributor to The Breakfast Bible, a compendium of breakfasts published by Bloomsbury. Her debut poetry collection is Dear Boy, published by Faber & Faber.   Her website is http://www.emilyberry.co.uk/.                  “Dear Boy (Faber & Faber, 2013) is the dramatic and inventive…

  • Days of Roses II

    peony moon
    12 Jun 2013 | 1:46 pm
    Cover artwork© Rachel Howard       Contributors are Liz Berry, Robert Selby, Harriet Moore, Lydia Macpherson, André Naffis-Sahely, Alan Buckley, Declan Ryan, Malene Engelund, William Searle and Rory Waterman.         *         The Sea of Talk Liz Berry for dad     That last Summer before school robbed language from my mouth and parcelled it up in endless   Ladybird Books, you made me a boat of words and pushed us off from the jetty into the Sea of Talk.   You let the waves navigate. My fingers stroked shoals of nouns in the chatter – goosegog, peony – ,   verbs…

  • Kobus Moolman’s Left Over

    peony moon
    7 Jun 2013 | 9:24 am
            Kobus Moolman was born in 1964 in Pietermaritzburg. He has published five previous collections of poetry, as well as several plays. He has also edited an anthology by South African writers living with disabilities. He has been awarded several literary awards, including the Ingrid Jonker Prize. He teaches creative writing at the University of KwaZulu-Natal in Durban. Left Over is published by Dye Hard Press, Johannesburg.                 “There is a relentless asking in Moolman’s poems … Left Over feels like a follow-on to Light and After, a continuation…

  • Angela Readman: Six Poems

    peony moon
    5 Jun 2013 | 9:53 am
             Angela Readman’s collection Strip was published by Salt. Her poems have since been commended in the Arvon International Poetry Competition, and won the Ragged Raven and Essex Poetry Competitions. She was shortlisted in the 2013 Jane Martin Poetry Prize. ‘Return to Sodom’ was published in 2012 by Kumquat. The other five poems are new work.       *       Return to Sodom     Curiously, I returned to Sodom to visit the woman worth her weight in Amen’s. The sky was a widow, veiled as the best of us.   I saw a temple’s old coals, the pitched stones of…

  • Andrew Philip’s The North End of the Possible

    peony moon
    30 May 2013 | 11:40 am
    © Image by Thomas Ritchie       Andrew Philip was born in Aberdeen in 1975 and grew up near Falkirk. His first full collection of poetry, The Ambulance Box (Salt, 2009), was shortlisted for the Aldeburgh First Collection Prize, the Seamus Heaney Centre Prize for Poetry and in the Scottish Book Awards. His work has been published in the United Kingdom, the United States of America and Ireland, translated into Italian and included in anthologies such as The Forward Book of Poetry 2010, The Best British Poetry 2011 and Adventures in Form. He is poetry editor at Freight Books, Scots…
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    Best Poems - The Famous Poems Encyclopedia

  • Weaving waves

    shailendra singh
    12 Jun 2013 | 8:07 pm
    Bewildered, baffled, bleeding heart, Weave waves of a ubiquitous part, Whispering with wind what others say, I and she care scarce for this hay. I and she and she and I,read more

  • Its gonna be sunday

    shailendra singh
    12 Jun 2013 | 7:54 pm
    someday I will not find myself obsessed , with the challenges I am blessed, I would not find myself surrounded , with the things that have left me confounded, I will not find myself entangled,read more

  • "FLESH"

    Marcin Malek
    12 Jun 2013 | 12:54 pm
    Thou who art immeasurable allow me measure myself — The one who knows that he is but does not know true cause And when all curtain falls please make a gesture and give will to the fleshread more

  • …ONLY TRYING MY BEST

    Marcin Malek
    12 Jun 2013 | 12:48 pm
    My thoughts were far away of yours that night like rolling rocks falling deeply in to a darkness where winds are brushing fields under the head of skyread more

  • Repentance

    Shailendra Chauhan
    11 Jun 2013 | 11:27 pm
    Go to the tree Tell it what is right Go to the river Tell the water your fears of mind Idols carved on stones are there in temples Go and confess to them Although you wishread more
 
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    Poet Mom

  • Improbable Places Poetry Tour at Beverly Arts Fest

    January
    18 Jun 2013 | 8:52 am
    It's rare these days that I get nervous before a poetry reading. But I have to admit I was freaking out in the hours on Saturday leading up to the poetry and jazz reading for the Improbable Places Poetry Tour.Let me first say that this is one of the best events I've ever been a part of. You know those types of readings--the ones when you know instantly you're a part of something special. It was the kind of event that reminded me why I'm a poet. All credit goes to the beautiful, talented, gardenia-wearing Colleen Michaels! This was the last stop of the poetry tour for the season; she had the…

  • Confession Tuesday

    January
    18 Jun 2013 | 7:47 am
    Happy Confession Tuesday! You're hiding something ... I just know it. Unburden yourself. You'll be glad you did.This is my new planner. I love it! It has little to-do lists for each day of the week. I'm constantly writing lists on envelopes and notepads, but this is just fun. I mean look: it's color coded and aesthetically pleasing!****I thrive when I have a purpose and when I can organize around a schedule. I like having plans. I like knowing what will happen next. I even like knowing when I have time to be spontaneous. Sounds boring, but it works for me. I've often thought this part of my…

  • Get Lucky

    January
    15 Jun 2013 | 4:07 am
    The kids have been out of town for a few days. Whenever they are away, I always feel out of sorts. They define my day--who needs lunch, who needs to go where after school, who has a playdate with whom. As much free time as I not just need but require, I am rudderless without them.****It's times like this when a to-do list is useless for me. There's no sense of urgency. When I have all the time in the world, I procrastinate--which is not a bad thing. Sometimes I hide behind tasks to avoid writing, which I consider my real work. That's what I'm doing now: hiding from real work. The warm weather…

  • Confession Tuesday

    January
    11 Jun 2013 | 6:58 am
    Tie up time is now, kids!Happy Tuesday, folks. Time to confess. Share a little of yourselves and we promise to do the same.(Boy, do I have lots to confess!)****Last week I was all happy happy, joy joy. This week, not so much. Well, that's not completely true, but pretty close. Life has a way of giving me a gut-check when I least expect it.First, I missed my reading last week at the Collected Poets Series. I had been looking forward to it for months, but I had a oil leak right before I hit the road. I believe it is the only time I've canceled on a reading. My apologies to series…

  • Confession Tuesday

    January
    4 Jun 2013 | 7:09 am
      Iron EllaHappy first Tuesday in June! Time to break out the sunblock and bare all. Share a little of yourself with us and we promise to do the same.****I mentioned this on Facebook but it doesn't seem official until I do it here. Salem State University has hired me as a full-time assistant professor tenure track! Yahoo! I was full-time temp before, so this is huge. Can't thank Salem State enough for the vote of confidence after going through a national search. Woo hoo!Also, and something I did not know until last week, I have this summer off. Last year, I worked with the fine folks at…
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    Daily Poem With Gods Help

  • New Songs

    Kenney
    18 Jun 2013 | 4:24 pm
    New songs… ——————— New songs This week I have been blessed, Two new songs to sing, With parts of my heart addressed, Let joyfulness my spirit bring ——————– The post New Songs appeared first on Daily Poem With Gods Help.

  • 18 Jun 2013 | 7:09 am

    Kenney
    18 Jun 2013 | 7:09 am
    The post appeared first on Daily Poem With Gods Help.

  • Excellent Discreet

    Kenney
    16 Jun 2013 | 7:04 pm
    Excellent discreet… ——————————– Excellent discreet Most excellent are they, The people I meet, When they come my way, I needn’t be discreet ————————- The post Excellent Discreet appeared first on Daily Poem With Gods Help.

  • Study Discover

    Kenney
    15 Jun 2013 | 4:45 pm
    Study discover… ————————— Study discover All night I study, Hoping to discover, That that was lost, I need to recover ——————— The post Study Discover appeared first on Daily Poem With Gods Help.

  • Exit Sniffle

    Kenney
    14 Jun 2013 | 5:41 pm
    Exit sniffle… ——————– Exit sniffle Sniffle sniffle I begin to cry, Sniffle sniffle tears in my eyes, Towards the exit I make my way, With nothing explicit I need to say ———————– May The Lord keep you safe & bless you in all that you do… The post Exit Sniffle appeared first on Daily Poem With Gods Help.
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    cottonbombs

  • Come Back, June (We Miss You)

    cottonbombs
    12 Jun 2013 | 8:35 pm
    I wonder if June knew she had been invited weeks ago where is she? By now we should find ourselves in the throws of a Summer sunset sunlight lapping against the pavement like warm waters upon tropical surf sea flirting with sand running his fingers through her hair like a cool breeze to beat that mean heat that sticks to your skin like you were first shampooing with boiling asphalt then you turned the faucet to cold and found mercy in the cooling pools of God’s love in the disguise of a shower tap or a sweet Summer’s breeze; now, in this frosty mist so out of place and unwanted…

  • Who Dreams of Vishnu?

    cottonbombs
    3 Jun 2013 | 9:47 pm
    Finding if I got here writing these words we now spent sharing the same time and space I got here by hook and by crook yet you got here by guide book crafting this draft which seeps beneath these sheets we love on now think of the ink stained upon these streets of papery pages that leads the idiots and the sages to these latest rages of the ages this zeitgeist is to live in cages but these cages do not contain us in these same dimensions beyond first, second, third and fourth there are as many ranges as there are brains who contain us and our minds are Vishnu who dreams of me and you all this…

  • A Guide Book To Guide Books

    cottonbombs
    23 May 2013 | 10:28 pm
    Wandering wondering which way to go though there’s no doubt what way to go though I don’t know where’s the difference any way? I wonder while I wander without giving any kind of guide book any kind of look I wander Japan to India without any kind of look at any guide book seeing so many backpackers wandering with their guide books giving clues wondering if I got here blind, why can’t you? And everywhere I go I find backpackers lugging about their big fat guide books and I know guide book or not we share this same view and if Columbus had taken a guide book he’d…

  • This Side of Midnight

    cottonbombs
    13 May 2013 | 8:51 pm
    We sit this close to midnight finding ourselves in the dark when your hand overlaps my hand and we lose sight of where yesterday lands and tomorrow starts so I hold you tighter to hold on to tonight though I know time slips through our fingers as sand and dust seeps under our doors and sets to rest on photographs of lives long lived this our resurrection comes from within and only the light of memory lets us see where nothing seems like something and something reads as nothing in this dark on this side of midnight how the dorsal fin is the scariest part of the shark and we see what is lost to…

  • Science Is History

    cottonbombs
    7 May 2013 | 11:01 pm
    Columbus sailed on an ocean of faith trusting his ships were mightier than any storm believing the curve of the horizon’s frown was actually fortune smiling upon him for being first for seeing that if the earth was flat the horizon’s spine wouldn’t curve like that and though we now know Columbus wasn’t the first to cross the Atlantic our History books are still frantically saying so we get lost when we start teaching History like Math “Those who forget their History are doomed to repeat it” true but unlike Math in History one plus one doesn’t always…
 
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    Hijaabi in the Rain

  • What Poetry Could Suffice?

    15 Jun 2013 | 2:51 am
    Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) delivered his last sermon (Khutbah) on the ninth of Dhul Hijjah (12th and last month of the Islamic year), 10 years after Hijrah (migration from Makkah to Madinah) in the Uranah Valley of mount Arafat. His words were quite clear and concise and were directed to the entire humanity.After praising, and thanking Allah he (peace be upon him ) said:“O People, lend me an attentive ear, for I know not whether after this year, I shall ever be amongst you again. Therefore listen to what I am saying to you very carefully and TAKE THESE WORDS TO…

  • Misunderstood Feelings

    8 Jun 2013 | 12:14 pm
    You thought I found it funnySome sort of dark humour lining my lipsI need to smile at odd timesBecause to cry publicly is unacceptableYour words touch the surfaceBut these scars run deepYou honestly thought I think thatIf you want to guess my thoughtsThen here take them allI know it hurts, I know you tryI know you're kindI think sometimes I know it more than youLets assume thatAll your assumptions are wrongAnd yes I will write poetry About the insignificantBecause perspective gives weightIt's little things like this that tie me downCuriosity turns to cynicism so quicklySometimes our kindness…

  • Foreshadowing

    7 Jun 2013 | 10:12 am
    Friday's cannot just deteriorateI on the other hand can quite easilyThe first three hours are bearableBut soon after that I find myselfWilling this non muslim to reciteAny surah would do, I thinkBecause the more she speaksthe more I think of the ironyShe speaks of genes and base sequencingMicroorganisms , batch culture growthEnzymes and all sorts of odditiesAnd there is no elephant in the roomBut a universally accepted truthThat we focusing on little details missI didn't make these things and neither did youI didn't create myself or youThere is a GodAnd today is FridayWhat are we doing?It…

  • The Heaviness of a Heart

    3 Jun 2013 | 11:11 am
    There is a heavinessIn my bones I thinkThere is a weight that chokesLittle parts of me are dyingThey say sometimesYou dig your own graveAnd sins stick like dirtTo the tips of my fingersAnd there is hurt everywhere I lookI am scared of my graveScared what I've dug for myselfThis worldly life absorbsDeeper, deeper stillI am so far belowIt chokes, it chokesEveryday is a little closerThey will say goodbye to me for the last timeAnd I will close my eyes for the last timeMy chest will heave for the last timeRegrets pile to the point of suffocationAnd life dies into idle afternoonsI am trying to be…

  • Final

    24 May 2013 | 2:32 pm
    It felt like my final Friday thoughIt wasn't or at least it shouldn't beBecause home is where the heart isAnd I really shouldn't need to explainThis Jummah was fuller than usualFrom the corner at the back of the hallMy silent prayers reached somewhereWhere they were heard and responded toIf this is the final jummah thenWhere are you?They tell me to forget , to move onBut the piles and piles of prayers are recordedWe have prayed for you in rain, in sujoodWith such painful hope we prayedI wonder at the day thatWe make it home to JannahWill I look in wonder whereAre you, did you make…
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    Dark Matter

  • Jill And Dave (And Social Justice Poetry)

    Tony Brown
    18 Jun 2013 | 4:12 am
    (–radically revised from an earlier version) This is a social justice poem about Jill,  hanging up and staring at the yard for so long that it breaks into pixels and shimmers through tears. This is a radical empowerment poem  about how at the shop her husband Dave,  after hanging up,   cries into his sleeve as he cleans out his tiny locker  and walks to his truck  with a box full of  suddenly unemployed tools. This is an anticapitalist poem about a perfect day   royally screwed up; about how the last five minutes have become exactly like…

  • Note to regular subscribers: The Duende Project

    Tony Brown
    18 Jun 2013 | 3:22 am
    Wanted to suggest to all the regular subscribers to the blog that you might want to take a look and give a quick listen to the new CD from my poetry and music band, “The Duende Project.”   It’d be great if you thought about purchasing a track or even the whole album, too, of course,  but mostly I’d love it if you gave it a listen. Performing and playing with Steven and Chris is a critical part of how the poetry gets out there for me.  I’d love it if some of you who read the work regularly got a sense of what that is like. Thanks in advance,…

  • Notes Left Behind In An Empty House

    Tony Brown
    16 Jun 2013 | 5:16 pm
    Went to borrow skin from Johnny – back soon. Call if you need anything — will be going by the Louvre on the way home so… Have the kids the dog and dragon Back by 3 Left something black in the fridge for you Better than it looks!  love Did you pay the ferryman? He called twice Had to run to the ice pack Forgot the reason why – hope to remember before I get there Don’t wait up Don’t open the cellar door! Will explain when I get home Remember I love ya Peaches We needed peaches That’s right, peaches I left 40,000 dollars for you under the eaves…

  • Pearls

    Tony Brown
    16 Jun 2013 | 3:22 am
    It is morning, someone says, though I could tell that by myself. My first thought is of the landscape near the closest football stadium. My second is of a scrap of paper. Upon it these words: “your prime is seven.” My next thought is of an esoteric cabal of crushingly huge men chanting prime numbers as they thunder across the world, because this early I’m primarily an engine for cobbling together random things. It is morning, someone says, though it’s obvious to me. My next thought is that I ought to sit up in bed and see how I feel. My first action is to sit up…

  • Hard Up Early

    Tony Brown
    15 Jun 2013 | 3:09 am
    Early and hardly up with the light and the clatter of the   cat beating on the blind to try and see outside. Birds, squirrels, then someone starting a loud car — must be the red van two doors down, know that rattle and growl by heart by now, it has taken all spring to get this loud and now it’s distinctive as any robin’s liquid call. I don’t blame the cat for being a cat when it’s this busy this early. She’s trying to tell me some creature surely ought to care about the bustle, it’s too much for dawn to contain, and  who can say what will…
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    Heartful Whispers

  • 10/02/10. Guilt.

    16 Jun 2013 | 3:25 am
    Apologies rattle in the dungeons of your mindTrapped, unsaid,Echoing against the corners Of the darkest places.How can you utter the words ‘forgive me’With the same tainted lips with which you tellThe reason you need to be forgiven?With the same lips that snarl in disgustAt yourself,Tell me, how another’s forgiveness will change anythingIf you cannot ever forgive yourself?You are wrapped warmly,In the coldness of your selfish heartIn a blanket of shame.But no amount of self-reproach could rectifyThis sin.Remorse cannot undo the damageNor slow the decay of the heart, touched by…

  • 10/06/13. Be.

    10 Jun 2013 | 3:11 pm
    They say I'm wearing rose-tinted spectaclesbut I take them offand nothing's changed,we are still ourselvesand each other.There is no need to think twiceand worry about every last detail,of the past we can not changeor the future we do not hold.Who are they to try and warpour minds with their doubts?To try and cloud the sunthat shines within us?Because there's no harmin just being happy.So I don't think longon why I'm smiling,or in fact, why I shouldn't,because I have, and always had,all I need to be content.Despite its complexitylife is simpleand we can just,be.

  • 02/06/13. Fireflies.

    2 Jun 2013 | 5:53 pm
    We are fire-fliestrapped in glass bottlesglowing in the darkness of our own minds. The universe beyond us holds,in the cradle of its great vastness,more knowledge than we could ever hope to find here,basking in the warmth and comfort of our own glow.There are those who refuse to believethat anything more radiant than ourselvescould be.But little do they know that we,we are but the smallest of flickersamongst the fires of worlds, held in a cement unknown,intangible.Because we are trapped in our glass bottlesboundaries of our own makingwithin our minds.But then there are those curious fewWho…

  • 18/05/13. Old Photographs.

    18 May 2013 | 8:33 am
    I look back at rusting photographsdusty smiles of happy dayson glossy paper,where youth is eternal,and there are no worries beyond who can do the longest handstand.Now I'm standing years ahead in time,laughing at the girl who I used to beyet missing it all at oncebecause things could have been done differently. But, I guess if that were sothe Me now, would never knowhow far it was, that I had come. The circles my thoughts ran in my headhave shaped me into who I am,for better or worseevery hardship, a cursein my eyesbut a blessing in disguise the skies were always blue behind the clouds. These…

  • 11/05/13. Independence.

    12 May 2013 | 2:01 pm
    Slowly your crutches have worn awayand slowly your supports have leftyou whimper, feeling weak, abandoned,you don't see this, as a gift.You must rise strong and independentstanding firm on your two feetlearn to ride the untamed waveslearn to take the heat.Be grounded in your beliefsdon't forget from where you came,but know where it is you're goingand don't be held back by your shame.Don't be led by others,for you always have a choiceTrue strength comes from within youso trust your inner voice.Don't lean upon anotheron them you can't relythe wings grow on your own backonly you, for you, can…
 
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    Repetitive Hair Disorder

  • Edgar Allan Crow: Spoken Word Version

    Colin Lichen
    3 Jun 2013 | 7:48 am
    Here’s a reading of my Edgar Allan Crow poem – a sort of homage to ‘The Raven’. Sadly, it is not me reading, rather, someone with a ‘proper’ voice.

  • Hard to Live With

    Colin Lichen
    30 May 2013 | 3:12 am
    On the day you said you’d stay my heart leaped for the window, but through times good and bad, and bad, and bad; happy days and sad, even very sad, you remained grounded; which, ironically, was the cause of your death. (c) Colin Lichen – 2013 Follow @colinlichen

  • This morning

    Colin Lichen
    18 May 2013 | 3:06 am
    I noticed spring; her presence betrayed by a careless red fleck upon the village green. (c) Colin Lichen – 2013 Follow @colinlichen

  • Boxes

    Colin Lichen
    10 May 2013 | 7:06 am
    His dreams produce a muffled rattle, trapped in a French ratpack box that John Major (‘not the first minister’) gave him in thanks for some words that might have saved his life: a compass indicating the right direction only occasionally; him happy to follow without correction; a packet that would make tea the colour of gravy, though few ever did, its flavour not dissimilar; a toilet-tissue totaliser; a catapult (broken), and a white plastic spoonman – welded with Zippo over supper (don’t ask), and hand-patterned packets wherein once lay 7.62mm diameter confirmations of whether…

  • Self-Promotion Friday

    Colin Lichen
    10 May 2013 | 5:20 am
    I’m very pleased to have had my poem ‘Gilbert and George’ published in Too Obscene magazine. Those of you who are not familiar with the career/work of Gilbert and George will, I fear, find little of merit in the poem. There is a $2.00 charge for the magazine (of which I get $0.00). This one-off project is definitely worth a read if your taste in poetry extends to the ‘obscene’. Update – June 11th: The magazine is now available to download, free of charge! I’m very pleased to have had my poem ‘Adventure’s Beckoning’ published in The…
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