Want to get new excerpts, musings, and more from The Bibliophile right away? Sign up for our weekly online newsletter here! *** An interview with Robyn Sarah, author of We’re Somewhere Else Now […]| Biblioasis
The figure of zeugma in Vergil's AENEID and Bob Dylan's "Isis."| Ad Fontes
This is the poem for Sadje’s W3 Poet of the Week poetry prompt. Sadje asks that we write a poem from the heart that uses imagery – vivid language that appeals to the senses. There are no restrictions on form, meter, or length. I selected the form Rime Couee. This is a French form of … Continue reading Looking at Fall’s Reign→| A Different Perspective
This week on the W3 Poetry Prompt, Carol anne has (as Poet of the Week) challenged us to write a Blitz poem about the change from summer to autumn. I love the Blitz poem form – it is part stream of consciousness and part chess-like strategy. Anyway, I was able to fit some of the … Continue reading Looking at Changing Seasons→| A Different Perspective
My friend saintvi, has been writing poetry again. She used to be very active on Xanga but has nearly stopped posting on WP (though I did manage to get her to join in the scavenger hunts). She started sending me note cards with her poems. She was reluctant to post them online because they are … Continue reading Looking to Resist→| A Different Perspective
Today is another Blackout poem from Barbara Kingsolver’s book ‘Pigs in Heaven’ page 45. I don’t often shop at WalMart and I rarely venture into their food section. This last week I found myself smack in the middle of WallyWorld’s produce aisle. (There is a reason the internet is filled with video clips of WalMart … Continue reading Looking Invisible→| A Different Perspective
This week A.J. Wilson challenges us with the W3 poetry prompt of writing an ekphrastic poem based on one of two paintings (see below). I selected the Georgia O’Keefe Abstraction Blue. Ange’s requirements are simple: use the word blue and limit the poem to 15 lines or less. I chose to write in enclosed tercets … Continue reading Looking Empathetic→| A Different Perspective
n spiritual contexts, a karmic relationship is often seen as a connection based on past-life interactions, where souls reunite to resolve past issues or learn specific lessons. Once these karmic lessons are integrated and the debt is paid, the relationship, which was once binding, can end.| Poetry For Healing
The poet Alice Notley died on May 17. But death was a place that she had visited before, a state with which she had long communed. Step into the uninvidious nonvoid inter alia especially be- Tween the live and dead for I have been there often and know it she writes in The Speak Angel […]| n+1Articles – n+1
My weapon is better My weapon is organic It is an organ, a pulse, a history| n+1
A huge congratulations to Fatema Alzari whose poem “Fragments” was selected by Marianne Chan as the SECOND PLACE winner of the 2025 Misfit Poems Prize competition. Writing about absence often becomes an act of curation — selecting and stitching together… The post 2025 Misfit Poems Prize SECOND PLACE WINNER: “Fragments” By Fatema Alzari appeared first on Frontier Poetry.| Frontier Poetry
Frontier Poetry is excited to congratulate Marianne Chan’s pick for the THIRD PLACE winner of the 2025 Misfit Poems Prize: “[FLASHCARDS FOR WHEN I START FORGETTING]” by Kristina Kim. Memory is patchwork. Flashes of emotional resonances that accent disparate details:… The post 2025 Misfit Poems Prize THIRD PLACE WINNER: “[FLASHCARDS FOR WHEN I START FORGETTING]” By Kristina Kim appeared first on Frontier Poetry.| Frontier Poetry
There’s a sensuous quality to Rory Kilalea’s poem, “Old Man (In Johannesburg)” and it evokes some of the descriptions of Asia found in Jenny Xie’s Eye Level. Kilalea is minimal in his descriptors but “breathing sex and / neon” has the simple… The post Poetry: “Old Man (IN JOHANNESBURG)” by Rory Kilalea appeared first on Frontier Poetry.| Frontier Poetry
In the midst of never-ending what-ifs and might-bes, the journey is never easy— weighed down by worries umpteen. … More When Worries Worry| Void Thoughts
A book about walking might not seem like the obvious choice for me, now a full-time wheelchair user, but this is about so much more than the mere physical act itself. As well as the obvious meaning, the “old ways” explore and traverse humanity’s various journeyings and their resulting connections over the millennia; covering not just the more well-known tracks, but lesser-known ones too, over mountains and even the those more fleeting passages across the seas. These are journeys rooted...| reviewsbywriters.blogspot.com
Where do poets find doorways into new work? Discover different forms of poetry inspiration in this guide through writing more poems.| Writers.com
By Dan Kriesberg Contentment Defined as: The time when one is in wildness When one’s community Expands to include the trees, water, rock beings all beings Surrounded by wildness Hugged Going deeper, breathing easier It takes time and distance To shed The skin of human-dominated places And join The wildness of mountain, lake, forest, and river Photo: Morning from Pharoah Mountain. Photo by Dan Kriesberg.| The Adirondack Almanack
I used to wear a fancy blouse The neckline it did scoop But now I wear it buttoned up So you can’t see my droop I used to wear a sweater tight Don’t mind me if I brag Now I use a big sweat shirt So you can’t see my sag I used to wear […]| ladysighs
One day I met with youIt was a surpriseYou came into my dreamsI loved your lips and eyes But you did not remainTo fill my wishes and desiresNow nothing is left for meBut my tears and my sighs The One-Day Prompt| ladysighs
A bit of exciting news, folks. My good friend and superb poet Maggie Watson has been nominated for Writer of the Month for August 2025 at Spillwords Press. Earlier this year, Maggie won the award for Publication of the Month for April 2025 at Spillwords Press, so she’s on a roll. I want to ask … Continue reading Our Friend Maggie Watson Nominated for Author of the Month for August 2025 at Spillwords Press| Silent Pariah
The latest installment of my short haiku/senryu collections titled “A Few Haiku (20)” is now available at Gobblers by Masticadores. These small collections consist of six haiku and/or senryu. Many thanks to editor Manuela Timofte for sharing this mini-collection. I hope you enjoy them. “A Few Haiku (20)”© 2021 by Michael L. Utley (#115) where once was … Continue reading “A Few Haiku (20)” published at Gobblers by Masticadores| Silent Pariah
We’ve all seen the headlines, how the homeless are being harassed, their tents and belongings bulldozed away, being told to …Continue reading →| Deborah J. Brasket, Author
The 20th-century Greek-Alexandrian poet wrote of a faded grandeur that stood for all humanity.| New Statesman
| Migratory Legends
Poem by Charlotte Perkins Stetson Gilman The garden beds I wandered by One bright and cheerful morn, When I found a new-fledged butterfly, A-sitting on a thorn, A black...| Migratory Legends
In his poem "Interception," Ben Corvo writes about the aftermath of an imagined ending The post Interception appeared first on The Lehrhaus.| The Lehrhaus
Aeschlyus, one of the greatest Ancient Greek playwright and poet, is still relevant today. His work preaches us to learn from the past and yet today, most people have yet to learn their lessons. The post Gaining wisdom, losing wisdom first appeared on North East Bylines.| North East Bylines
"Bitter Creek: An Epic Poem" by Teow Lim Goh tells the story of Chinese immigration and how it affected the American West. The post Poets and Poems: Teow Lim Goh and “Bitter Creek” appeared first on Tweetspeak Poetry.| Tweetspeak Poetry
In her new chapbook "Incompleteness Theory," poet Danelle Lejeune successfully mixes poetry, science, and humor. The post Poets and Poems: Danelle Lejeune and “Incompleteness Theory” appeared first on Tweetspeak Poetry.| Tweetspeak Poetry
"Fluent in Blue" and "Human Resources," the most recent collections by Erin Murphy, continue her focus on form and order. The post Poets and Poems: Four Collections by Erin Murphy, Part 2 appeared first on Tweetspeak Poetry.| Tweetspeak Poetry
Two collections, "Taxonomies" and "Fields of Ache," by poet Erin Murphy reveal a focus on form, order, and classification. The post Poets and Poems: Four Collections by Erin Murphy, Part 1 appeared first on Tweetspeak Poetry.| Tweetspeak Poetry
She climbs the steps with gentle care,to where the arrows climb through stairs,Colorful worlds faraway skies,day dreams written where wonder lies. The ocean hums as waves roll near,a storm will come, it’s shadow clear.She runs inside, the thunder sighs,the house a shelter from gray skies. Fresh raindrops scatter on the glass,each bring soft whispers as... Continue Reading →| Grace of the Sun
Free epub ebook download of the Standard Ebooks edition of Poetry: A collection of occasional and dramatic poems by a Victorian poet, educator, and critic.| standardebooks.org
The crew has come: caravan of trucks stationed on the street, unstacking cones and digging ditches, deft and efficient. Here in our yards, long years of earth have been hefted by hand and heaped up on tarps. A pneumatic mole emerges from the trailer, and a heavy hose is hauled into place. With a pop, the pumping compressor wakes with startling strength. The strata are threaded, pierced by the pounding power that forges a buried boulevard. This burrow will convey packets with payloads, pulses ...| IEEE Spectrum
By Eric Colburn See my brother break a leg, and see his headslammed against the pavement by a cop,see him...| LIBRE
By Eric Lawson Curse this aging, ever shrinking bladder!Forced to stumble down the hall to urinatein the middle of the night has fully awakenedme from my slumber and now I’m left witha restless mind and a fidgeting body on edge.Too hot for clothes, too alone to care.No respite from intrusive thoughts.No relief from the day’s…| LIBRE
Here’s a new limerick challenge for you this fine Monday – your word is: SPELL Last week’s prompt was SING. You came up with some great limericks: Therapy Bits: There once was a bird on the wing, Who loved every morning to sing. With a voice bright and clear, It brought all who could hear, A […]| Esther Chilton
Here in the UK, it’s a bank holiday – and we’re having a mini-heatwave. I hope you’re able to keep cool. Here’s a new limerick challenge for you – your word is: SING Last week’s prompt was JUST. You came up with some great limericks: Nicola Daly: Giving into his voracious blood lust Vlad the Vampire […]| Esther Chilton
Where I Reside The annals of society; where I reside As far removed as the dark side of — The moon Cold concrete graves encased in Steel bars Piercing supernatural lights Policed and patrolled by Horned custodians Sanctioned — to exact violence Draped in red white and blue capes Nature? This is anything but This… Continue reading 8/14/25 poetry roundup #2| Malik Speaks!
He stood there with the flowers, the closed door haunting his mind - reminding him of the loss. The faded walls reminding him of his age,but the golden railing brought a smile, reminding him of the hope to relive those golden days beyond the closed door.But will the door open?- Isha Chawla| Musings
She finally learned to stand without worrying about the ebb and flow. Her thoughts stayed calm even in the storm ,And for the first time she breathed without the fear of drowning or of turning back!- Isha Chawla| Musings
I couldn't look up to the sunSo I knelt before the moon. It shined, smiling at me, Whispering - You were not meant for the dazzle but for the magic in the shadows! - Isha Chawla| Musings
What will they say? What will they think? Let my dreams sink. For my mind was made to believe - what will they say? What will they think?And slowly my mind was on fire asking again - what will they say? What will they think? But then my mind asked - Who were "they"? I […]| Musings
Customised my old poem a bit, didn’t add music here. Do tell how is the visual poetry?| Musings
I chased the unopened doors with the curiosity to open them one day but left the other doors behind which were wide open just for me. – Isha Chawla| Musings
Yao Feng, Great Wall Capriccio and Other Poems, translated by Kit Kelen, Karen Kun and Penny Fang Xia (Flying Island Books 2014) Beijing born Yao Feng is a much awarded poet, translator, artist and…| Me fail? I fly!
Once a day dawned dark, the clouds hanging limp like wisps of smoke that clog the lungs after a fire has burned beyond its life. Tear-stained faces watched a man displayed, his torn body nailed to a tree torn from the ground and weeping over its foul fate. His face contorted with pain as his… Continue reading Last Words→| nuakh
After my last fiasco with portrait drawing, many months ago, I mustered the courage to try again ( I may have starting trouble but I don’t give up easily). This time, I think, there is an improvement and yet, it’s a little off because I did not use grid lines. They are the bane of […]| Eúnoia
Two new poems for The Clearing by William Thompson, Felling and Fenland's Pompeii.| Little Toller Books
Thomas Parnell's A Night-Piece on Death reveals how death, decay, and nature merge in the eerie roots of Gothic poetry, writes WILLIAM BOVE| Spooky Isles
This week for Tanka Tuesday, Colleen Chesebro asked us to create a Taiga. A tanka is a 5-7-5-7-7 syllable structure, or s-l-s-l-l, which consists of 5 lines written in the first-person point of vie…| The Showers of Blessings
for Newton knew the mysticism of music and mathematics, the alchemy of seven seven notes and seven wonders, seven sacred luminaries circling a single sun, a kaleidoscope of reason, with indigo blue shoehorned in....| The Good Life Review
she has a plan. she parks her bike and buys a bag of potato chips. she gets back on, crosses down to main street, to the ice cream place. it’s a jumble of fenced-in water pumps now, but when she walks up it’s the ice cream place, pink and white. she buys a vanilla cone...| The Good Life Review
Neil, another darn good horseman offered to take the outlaw, save him from the abattoir. He couldn’t tame wild from Junior either, called him Lucky-to-be-Alive Spot, kept him as a companion for Ghost...| The Good Life Review
Writing poems is a great warm-up exercise for writing.| Tim Covell
Tomorrow, August 31st, is Independence Day in my country. It was a pure coincidence with scheduling for Hotel Masticadores that Michelle chose this window to share our poems. The two pieces we wrote celebrate our country’s push for freedom and self-determination. “Our blood our toil, Our Soil” by Nigel Byng & “I Shall Return… Then […]| Helping You To Succeed
She needs no introduction, and I felt that her poem needed to be shared. Someone somewhere needed to read this. Maggie Watson at her defiant best. Please click the link below and be inspired. Do enjoy. (written August 2025) I could retrace my steps.I could return to the cocoon I emerged from.I could assume the […]| Helping You To Succeed
I wrote this poem as a critique of certain political parties that espouse pro-life policies for “life” in the womb but won’t lift a finger to enact laws to help children once they’re actually born (anti-gun legislation, free healthcare and school lunches, etc.). They regard children as disposable fodder.| Nightmare MagazineRSS - Nightmare Magazine
An open poem to the Minister of Teachers from Dame Fiona Kidman| Newsroom
I have recently completed a four-week online Future Learn course on the poetry of Robert Frost. Robert Frost: The American Voice This course is offered by Ralston College. I came across it because I subscribe to Ralston College’s newsletter. I… Continue reading →| Jenny Connected
«Our blood our toil, Our Soil» by Nigel Byng X «I Shall Return… Then Leave Again» by Michelle Ayon Navajas This collaboration is a powerful poetic dialogue confronting the legacies of colonialism, imperialism, and historical trauma. Nigel’s poem delivers a sweeping indictment of European colonialism and capitalist exploitation, emphasizing resistance and unity among the oppressed.... Leer más →| Hotel by Masticadores
«hollow bones» by D.M. Navajas i’ve been livingunder the assumptionthat i deserved the wayyou loved meor didn’tor triedor failedmy bones are very hollowi need less weight to flyi think i had much more to givebut you didn’t let me trymy heart is made of tallowthey burn me when i risei won’t be burdened by how... Leer más →| Hotel by Masticadores
«Night» by Maria Michaela The crickets playThe fireflies slowly come outThey blink and twinkle like stars from the skyI take in the momentYou by my sideI turn and see the silhouette of your faceI close my eyesWanting to remember all that you are right nowMidnight is fast approaching © Maria Michaela| Hotel by Masticadores
«Window to Yesterday» by Scarlet Rose by the window, she sighs nestled in cushions,savoring the peace of leisurely mornings;beneath the gently swaying cherry blossom tree,a girl dances around catching the drifting petals. in a blink, a strikingly different scene unfoldsーscattered cushions, shattered peace;a girl and her siblings huddle in a cornerーcowering in fear, whispering hesitant... Leer más →| Hotel by Masticadores
«TRUTH AND LIES» by Maggie WatsonIf it is the truth you seek, swallow your lies. Even when coated in sugar, deception burns. Truth leaves no bitterness on the tongue. Unless applied harshly as puni…| Hotel by Masticadores
Her eyes were tired, heart weighed down,her boy’s sharp cries had filled the town.Her tears were heavy, spirit worn,her son’s deep struggles left her torn. Love held her close and stroked her hand,searched for a ways she’d understand.Love softly said, “I’ll bring you rest,maybe some peace, I’ll do my best.” “I’ll bring you food, a... Continue Reading → The post White Crow appeared first on Grace of the Sun.| Grace of the Sun
Upon the sloping rooftop tall,where turrets guard the bricks and wall,Scatter of birds have found their seat,their chatter drifts above the street. Loud pigeons coo as sparrows shift,the rooftop hums, a feathered drift,but one lone gull, with watchful eye,looks past the tiles toward the sky. The chimney’s marked, the tiles are stained,by wings that linger,... Continue Reading → The post Wishful Cravings appeared first on Grace of the Sun.| Grace of the Sun
She gazes through the misty panes,a wooden bench just brushed by rains.Gazes past thoughts that cross her mind,lands on echos both warm and kind. Tall pretty trees serve as a screen,a grassy yard, a quiet scene.Within this hush she drifts in time,back to her youth, soft raindrops chime. Lush branches dance in gentle sway,with blades... Continue Reading → The post Inner Child appeared first on Grace of the Sun.| Grace of the Sun
Rises with a gentle cheer,as bright words draw him so near.Inward chant, “I am enough,”through thoughts of morning’s soft puff. Walks to where the soft streams sing,hears the robins joyful ring.Paints the dawn with skies of gold,in him warm truths a take hold. Smile, because the day is kind,peace rests within his calm mind.Assured ,... Continue Reading → The post Affirmations appeared first on Grace of the Sun.| Grace of the Sun
In tall grass she stands,two young cubs at her side,eyes fixed to the left,upon each daily stride. Through sun’s glare and heat,her guard will never break,each step, each small choice,made for her children’s sake. But come evening’s glow,their claws transform to play,they stir pots and laugh,as the world drifts away. In the mirror’s frame,their smiles... Continue Reading → The post Out of the Wild appeared first on Grace of the Sun.| Grace of the Sun
She lived through nights of silent cries,a loveless home, unending lies.Each wound she bore, each dream turned cold,a tale of heartache, harshly told. She wore the years like heavy chains,through bitter nights, betrayals’ pains.Fake laughter faded, hope ran thin,yet still she fought the storms within. She felt so dark, her spirit stayed,through storms that broke,... Continue Reading → The post For You appeared first on Grace of the Sun.| Grace of the Sun
Exhales while on vacation,inner calm, sweet sensation.An insightful book sits near,“Free Forever”, printed clear. Pages whisper, soft, profound,of futures where peace is found,between the steel, soil, and sky,answers live where questions die. Exhibit so, strange and grand,weathered, worn, robotic hand.Rests on grass as life takes flight,butterflies in gentle light. Wandered off, with eager eyes,full of... Continue Reading → The post Unrestrained appeared first on Grace of the Sun.| Grace of the Sun
They raised their voices, sharp and loud,swift storm of words, a heavy cloud.Sharp silence came, the air grew still,uneasy hearts, longing to heal. In a deep breath and a step back,they analyzed perceived attacks.Illusions fell, all truths exposed,ego soon fled, then decomposed. One reached out, a gentle hand,another sighed, began to stand.A smile returned, the... Continue Reading → The post Stitched appeared first on Grace of the Sun.| Grace of the Sun
By the window, quiet and still,her cup near by, a peaceful chill.She sat with hands both soft and worn,a velvet hush, a daydream born.Two photos rest on lap with care,pleasant moments, once captured there. In one she wears a bright red coat,crossing a bridge where cold winds float.A castle looms in ancient grace,just stone and... Continue Reading → The post Glimpse of Time appeared first on Grace of the Sun.| Grace of the Sun
Far away dreams that slipped worn hands,from island shores to busy lands.The Bronx was loud, the nights were long,she worked and prayed to keep them strong. The bills piled high as time ran thin,she tucked her quiet guilt within.“No time for games,” she used to say,while Spanish words just slipped away. Her babies grew with... Continue Reading →| Grace of the Sun
I love collecting stationery. And recently I’ve also begun collecting poems about stationery. Poets not infrequently mention the instruments of their trade – Byron’s praise of his “grey goose-quill” springs to mind, or Sidney “biting [his] truant pen” – but I’ve tried to concentrate my collation on poems that have stationery items as their central…| Lady Writer
The Holy Land Foundation was founded in 1989. Rooted in Palestinian self-determination, the charity provided an incredible amount of material support to Palestinian people, combating the brutality of life under occupation. Read more via Scalawag: Palestinian Political Prisoner Shukri Abu Baker's Poetry Book Debuts in Houston.| Scalawag
Aint Sh*t changed... so let's stop pretending that what is happening has not always been Read more via Scalawag: Ain't Sh*t Changed.| Scalawag
Below is a draft of a chapter for a book on radical and process theologies. My contribution is based on a conversation I had with Peter Rollins earlier this year: Facing the Face Within: Christopoetics in an Unfinished World in Process By Matthew David Segall Ahead of turning to the body of this exposition, a […]| Footnotes2Plato
Thank you to New Verse Review and Darlene Young for the lovely review of Sunni Brown Wilkinson’s Rodeo. Young writes: It’s clear that Wilkinson does love| Autumn House Press
I carry worries, fears and caresall through my day, and such employleaves little space to realisethat I should also carry joy. I carry weight from many years’sickness, responsibilities,yet, in the midst of all of these,know life is more than tears. The dancing of the sunlit waves,raindrops which wet the mouths of caves,such secrets as I... Continue Reading →| Experiments in Fiction
Swift as an arrow to the heart marking the start of a new adventure, cleft like a tree trunkdeft as a dartof pleasure, pain or censure. Soft as the rain at eventide,mists of the midnight …| Experiments in Fiction
Bird to Bird After Neruda Muhammed was pensive and withdrawn as a child, my brother’s scars elsewhere. Cocaine use can cause purpura of the face, ears, trunk and extremities. Why don’t they say bruising all over one’s body? The trunk of the car contained: Thirty-three coiled jump ropes with fleur-de-lis painted on their wooden handles. […]| DODGING THE RAIN
Trip into Town Ancient oaks against a cloudless sky, each bright green leaf new to the world; no small dark deaths on the roadside, just rippled grass and yellow flowers, and then, lifting my heart, a bald eagle rides the wind with such easy grace that the alarm I live with feels foolish, wrong, until […]| DODGING THE RAIN
A two-person ‘Rengay’ By Annette and David ara- seams will unravel a strong wind moves things along detached strings remain db- buskers stitch their melody fiddle weaving through the flute ara- statues with heartbeats rubber souls of cement shoes dandelion fuzz db- remembered places— affection drifts like seedlings carrying old notes ara- not all… Continue reading Canta libre, or: A rengay→| The Skeptic's Kaddish 🇮🇱
A ‘Blitz’ poem Summer's lease Summer has its flies Flies in the ointment Flies off the handle Handle with care Handle oneself well Well and good Well has no bottom Bottom drops out Bottom line Line in the sand Line up Up with the lark Up to your neck Neck on the line Neck of… Continue reading Flies through times, or: (Seasoning)→| The Skeptic's Kaddish 🇮🇱
I smile at strangers every day but I live in London and they wonder what is wrong with me they glare and walk away I smile at strangers when I can— be they boy, girl, woman or man, but people wonder if I’m okay why am I smiling like that, they say‽ Smiling at strangers… Continue reading REBLOG: ‘I smile at strangers every day’ by Lesley Scoble→| The Skeptic's Kaddish 🇮🇱
A two-person ‘Rengay’ By Dawn and David dmb- I wake to morning chorus birds celebrate the new dawn while I hide beneath covers db- once more, I crawl through tunnels of childhood’s blanket fortress dmb- into imaginary worlds fairies dance, animals talk reality slips away db- wardrobe dark dissolves into endless winter woods … a… Continue reading Take flight, or: A rengay→| The Skeptic's Kaddish 🇮🇱
A Sijo David ben Alexander (n.): human, Jew, skeptic, Zionist, poet father, husband, grant-writer carrying self-doubt, regret seeking connection through verse vision: unfinished, imperfect self Reena’s Xploration Challenge 396 For this week’s RXC, we are encouraged to imagine a dictionary page devoted solely to ourselves, filled with words that describe our identity, vision, and mission.… Continue reading A work in progress (n.), or: By definition→| The Skeptic's Kaddish 🇮🇱
A two-person ‘Rengay’ By Nolcha and David db- doors keep closing shut but I lace up my shoes again— one must open soon nf- the race is on I cannot wait best to crawl through a window db- defenestration— just a fancy word that means breaking all the rules nf- my… Continue reading Frame of mind, or: A rengay→| The Skeptic's Kaddish 🇮🇱
A Sijo noise bangs its toy hammer shouting from the lot like a small prince; it stamps its feet and wails scattering plaster to prove it’s king; my bathroom at work torn down … I shuffle the …| The Skeptic's Kaddish 🇮🇱
I. They call me a monster, ignoring the true Frankenstein, who crafted me from stitched sinews and mismatched skin and lopsided limbs— an amalgamation of forgotten scraps— he who activated my heart with a defibrillator, then abandoned me, fearful of his own creation. II. They call me a monster, screaming when I approach or murmuring when I leave. Flinging darted glances as I stand in a grocery store line, holding a birthday cake with one candle. Don’t they know this skin was not chosen?...| The Bookends Review
Again the scent Of wet fur and burnt grass Returns to this humble abode The wolfman is crashed on my couch, curled ball that twitches and growls In slumber, a comfortable comforting Old friend, though strange even to I Who rests by the window Empty wine glass in hand, Taking in the music of the night An hour will pass And he’ll leap to his feet Alive! We’re Alive! We’re not old news Time to hit the town And spread some fear! Time to crash the club To Monster Mash Or at least Hit up McDo...| The Bookends Review
I am the bad seed who chose where to sprout, alongside these meadows. I moved again despite your need for me. When I came out West without one look toward where I had been it was because the things that choked me—worse than thistles or stones, all the ordnance thrown, your savage son waging unholy wars in the memory of Cain. But here I own my square, honest piece of the well-worn dream one half I’ll mow and leave the rest to woods enough room to take root by friends who seem quite happy I...| The Bookends Review
Charles Wright, former U.S. Poet Laureate and Pulitzer Prize-winner, visited East Tennessee State University on October 25, 2017, to read his poems and meet our students and community here in Johnson City. This had been a dream of mine since I met Charles at the University of Tennessee, when I was a graduate student, and… The post “I Can’t Tell a Story” first appeared on Chapter 16.| Chapter 16
A brief poem called “Lost Place” appears as the prologue to All These Ghosts, the first full-length poetry collection from former Kentucky poet laureate Silas House. This poem’s speaker approaches the past with a sense of mystery but also insists that this present moment in time be understood. “I recall the wild places, fecund, rich.… The post Poems for the Timesick first appeared on Chapter 16.| Chapter 16
Moments linger still But hearts no longer echo Joy that once was whole| Blog of Hammad Rais
