The Millions

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Must-Read Poetry: September 2017

Sep 11, 2017

Isn’t that one of the purest goals of poetry—to justify our breaths? To recognize that we matter? The post Must-Read Poetry: September 2017 appeared first on The Millions.

The American Poetry Review

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Five Poems

Nov 1, 2020

The American linden sways nonplussed by the storm,a bounce here, a shimmy there, just shaking like musicleft over from the night’s end wafting into the avenues before sleep.I remember once walking down Clinton Street, and singingthat line returning,

The American Poetry Review

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Three Poems

Jul 1, 2020

Beneath your skin, a floodof glass is surfacing. It means I stayalone for years during your weekin the hospital. You breathe like rosehips crushed, mouth too muddy to believe. I’m one to talk.The stylist asks if I want my liesto show through. I wade

Choice Magazine

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Your Poetry

Apr 29, 2022

Email your poems to: (editorial@choicemag.co.uk) or post to Your Poetry, Choice, 4 Milnyard Square, Orton Southgate, Peterborough PE2 6GX I see you all, sitting there in rows.Singing hymns, as your tears do flow. But please don’t cry, not for me.For

The American Scholar

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Five Poems

Mar 4, 2019

for William Gifford, 1928–2015 The river. Always the same, never the same.Poughkeepsie. A place north of where I am.To remember you is to remember Poughkeepsie.To remember Poughkeepsie is to remember the river.I am downriver now & you are a memoryI

The American Poetry Review

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Four Poems

Nov 1, 2022

Day after Thanksgiving. I give thanks for Eveto beat the rush of appreciating hernext year and let her sleep inuntil three hundred o’clock.Thank you light on the mountainfor being my star on cloudy nights.Thank you all the guns I’ve never ownedand ki

The American Scholar

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Five Poems

Dec 1, 2022

You have to first Sit in the temple gloom In the mahogany chair & despair. The only glimmer In the temple (being the inlaid bits of The Mother-Of-Pearl shells On the tall, more than humanly tall Chair back, for these These too Are the reputed “Tears

The American Poetry Review

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Five Poems

May 1, 2023

Let’s be GodFor a moment, Shall we?That which invites Composition,That which is suspended From a great height,The presence Of approximationHeavy in the meadows, I’m not afraid,And yet My shroud vanishesIn these lines, I am so weptPast weeping, And wh

The American Poetry Review

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Three Poems

May 1, 2022

I walked the sterile halls alone,walling my heart, afraid of whatI’d see. I found my mother first.You haven’t changed, she said, though I knewshe was merely hoping I’d say it back.Before I could speak, my father crieddown the hall. I guess his earswo

The American Poetry Review

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On Giving Up: Its Uses And Benefits In The Writing Life

Jul 1, 2022

It reminds me of a moment I used to have in college. I’d put off my term papers every single time till the last minute. So I’d be up at 3 or 4 in the morning working on some damn thesis totally confused, completely exhausted, and I’d have this glorio

The Oldie

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Tessa Castro

Feb 7, 2024

IN COMPETITION No 302 you were invited to write a poem called The Doormat. Most of your doormats were metaphorical, but instead of a Welcome doormat, Jenny Jones’s narrator concluded, ‘What I need’s a mat to shout: / “Go Away”, “Be Off”, “Keep Out”!’

The American Poetry Review

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In Which the World Is Not that Bad

Jul 1, 2024

let me live with no intention; i triumph at the mile-long hair in my shower; even in thunderstorms, more air is dry than not; there is no will that makes water cling to me the way you cling, but there is always the thought of water; i am telling you

The American Poetry Review

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Two Poems

Jan 1, 2019

What you called a cloud was not a cloud. I am in hell here. Hell is a partywhere I don’t sing, and don’t dance, and someone turns to me and says, “Youare a very pretty girl. Don’t ever forget that.” I spend all night tramping up and down the staircas

The American Poetry Review

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Six Poems

Feb 28, 2023

if you see oneyou can saybad bearright to its faceeven if you’re not sure,maybe it’s goodand has discretionin relationto the delicioustreasury of humangarbage or eventhe eternalwork of bees,who knowsbut it’s okon the pathwith your thunder voiceunequi

The American Poetry Review

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Five Poems

Sep 1, 2023

I am walking through the hotelEvery time I am so sadThat I want to die It’s a place where I can keepEverything I’ve never beenBrave enough to get to Poets have moons and moneyTo get themselves throughThe longest night imaginable But I’ve had these ro

New Internationalist

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Home

Feb 25, 2019

I once lived in a yellow little house. Each morning, birds convened and sang at my bedroom window. The gate was indigo and inside the garden all kinds of flowers rose to kiss the sunny walls. The yellow nest was filled with cherished books, colourful

The American Poetry Review

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Seven Poems

Sep 1, 2021

The dancersIn a terribly brightLight blue gauzeRetained the mystery Skating on a lakeBlue and iceAn illusionary timeWhere poetry feels inevitable The terrific clownWho lies insideEvery blue dressDoes he see me Always a starAlways a rootHorrible auras

The American Poetry Review

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Two Poems

May 1, 2023

No more teaching people how to liveand what to do. Today’s a star, orI am searching for the endlessendlessness inside myself. And in yourselfa flowering disco ball of foldingchairs clanging against my rather boney exterior.Also, in case you may know

The American Poetry Review

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Three Poems

Mar 1, 2022

i look like someonehealing from an accidentbecause i am someonehealing from an accidentthe book of actsscales falling from saul’s eyesremembering my capacityfor stillnesshow long can i sitwithout looking awaythe fear of god escapingi desperately need

The American Poetry Review

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Snow day & Other Poems

Nov 1, 2024

I set a tea kettle on top of a snowman.I’m pretending I don’t have laundry to do,that the drywall isn’t crackedin the bedroom, that I’m stillthe sixteenth inch thick bar of steelI was in my twenties, when if you bent meI sprang back to where I’d been

The American Poetry Review

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TEN POEMS Translations of Rafael Alberti

May 1, 2024

Throughout the centuries,through the nothingness of the world,I, without sleep, search for you. Behind me, imperceptible,without touching my shoulders,my dead angel keeps watch. Where is Paradise,Shadow, you who have been there?I ask silently. Cities

The American Poetry Review

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Four Poems

Jan 1, 2023

And god created the waves and we the graves beneath, bodies madeparticulate by the force of water against water, water against rock, againsttime. I descend into the deep in a kind of prayer, listen to its centuries.Make me pay, will you, make me hurt