Tag Archive: english poem

Compassion IV / by Noelle Kocot


The human realities of the living are now
As close to me as my own–oh, see how
Dusty that plant gets when you don’t clean
It! The rippling day is a fabulous lesson,
My pants are too loose, and yet. Bon nuit,
Mes chéries! All over the whole neighbor-
Hood, your fluid legs move–you are all  Devamını Oku


Sappho and Phaon: Sonnet III / by Mary Robinson


Turn to yon vale beneath, whose tangled shade

Excludes the blazing torch of noon-day light,
Where sportive Fawns, and dimpled Loves invite,
The bow’r of Pleasure opens to the glade:
Lull’d by soft flutes, on leaves of violets laid,
There witching beauty greets the ravish’d sight,
More gentle than the arbitress of night
In all her silv’ry panoply array’d! Devamını Oku


The Gods Are in the Valley / by Dana Levin

The mind sports god-extensions.

It’s the mountain from which
the tributaries spring: self, self, self, self–

rivering up
on curling plumes
from his elaborate

of smoke. Devamını Oku


The Wife-Woman / by Anne Spencer


Maker-of-Sevens in the scheme of things
From earth to star;
Thy cycle holds whatever is fate, and
Over the border the bar.
Though rank and fierce the mariner
Sailing the seven seas,
He prays as he holds his glass to his eyes,
Coaxing the Pleiades. Devamını Oku


Opening Gambit / by Michael McGriff


Two decommissioned highways cross
and continue toward their borders
with the casual certainty
the dead carry in their sample cases.
Leaning against the wind
I notice tufts of fur in the air
and a driveshaft rising from the sand,
then the horsehair of a violinist’s bow
drawn steadily across my neck. Devamını Oku


French Kissing / by Gregory Sherl

What is there left to do during a truce, but look at boys

swinging swords at the trunks of trees? Devamını Oku


Ghazal: In Silence


Let them be, the battles you fought, in silence.
Bury your shame, the worst you thought, in silence. Devamını Oku


The Fish, the Man, and the Spirit


Leigh Hunt born on October 19, 1784 in London, Leigh Hunt is the author of The Story of Rimini and Hero and Leander. A friend to Shelley and Keats, Hunt died on August 28, 1859. Devamını Oku


On. On. Stop. Stop.

In the old recording of the birthday party,
the voices of the living and the dead Devamını Oku

Poem Entering the Apple Valley Target

Into the fluorescent rough country
headlong into bulks of flesh Devamını Oku





Your names toll in my dreams.
I pick up tinsel in the street. A nameless god
streaks my hand with blood. I look at the lighted trees
in windows & the spindles of pine tremble
in warm rooms. The flesh of home, silent. Devamını Oku


Now we could have been a child thereabouts


Now we could have been a child thereabouts

For example, in Jerusalem,

 Could have thrown a stone to the wailing wall,

Could have made a mother cry,

Shot in the middle of the heart with a bullet,

Having played blind man’s buff with the tanks

Could have been tagged with the guns there,

Could have been a child in Jerusalem,

Could have been an angel in Al- Aqsa Mosque. Devamını Oku

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