Poetry

National Poetry Month Day 29: “City of Eternal Spring” by Afaa M. Weaver

By

City of Eternal Spring

My mind rises up as the silos of interchanges,
streams, passages of myself in floating layers
so nothing can connect, and I dream emptiness
on ships sailing to new places for new names,
this ship my hands cupped in front of me,
a beggar’s bowl, a scooped out moon, a mouth
opened to make noiseless screams, to arrange,
to begin, to break through to stop my arrogance,
believing what I touch, see, feel, hear, taste make
a case for being alive, so I can stop believing what
happens when a caterpillar dreams itself beautiful.

...more

National Poetry Month Day 28: from “Bombyonder” by Reb Livingston

By

from Bombyonder

Without an imaginary world, without a proper backpack, without my little pink orb,

without an old tablet’s commandments, without a hair dryer, empty hands, empty

birdcage obscured by a crate of empties.

Left without a predictable choice, without direct involvement, without being wiser, left

without leave, left what I came with, left with myself.

...more

National Poetry Month Day 25: “Rogue Benediction” by Wendy C. Ortiz

By

Rogue Benediction

And we entered the Valley of the Rogue.
And we slowed to a crawl.
The night’s envelope sealed us in.
After several hours, cars deep on the interstate,
we resigned ourselves: this first night
would be the gateway, the opening to a roguish place
where I would no longer have answers,
become unable to make plans, in other words:
less solid.

...more

National Poetry Month Day 24: “After Aftermath” by Cate Marvin

By

After Aftermath

Orphaned boys plus my mean calculations.
Orphan boys plus desire equals their long
bodies. How they sucked summer-long water
off a garden hose from beside the trailers.
Their mean mothers weary of them sharing
rooms in mental hospitals: I want to meet
them with flowers, thank them for offering
up their sons to this, our glazed plexi-glas
world.

...more

National Poetry Month Day 23: “Embers of Smoldering Homes” by Sean Singer

By

Embers of Smoldering Homes

It is a major war from
a manufacturing plant
near Ciudad Juárez, a concrete
dust smell from the maquiladoras
cools. There is a pool
of liquid forming
on the stone floor.
When Érika Gándara, the only
cop in Guadalupe Distrito Bravos
was killed the buzzards
were fucking in the wind.

...more

National Poetry Month Day 21: “War With Computers” by Jill McDonough

By

War with Computers

“We don’t make war with computers.”
—Captain Kirk in Star Trek, “A Taste of Armageddon,” 1966

Now we hover at 5000 feet. It’s not a fair
fight, but IEDs aren’t fair, either. We watch day and night.
We don’t make war with computers, though; we’re not there

yet, are we?

...more

National Poetry Month Day 18: “My Brother” by Carmen Gimenez Smith

By

My Brother

My brother _is__ a savior
who can torpedo
through privilege with an artistic stun gun
he’s a tempest saturating the city

He makes a scar
in the earth_ draws out
an admixture of folklore
and animus_ plus
a pinch of_ worry from our
adolescent miseries
so he can build_ endless
self-perpetuation_ literally
with big red bricks

This he does with
our so-called inheritance

We once walked
on our father’s periphery
looking in like_ the matchstick
children

We walked the edge of our houses
to find ___a warm window
Was it there
It wasn’t

the self-preservation__ that hunger
and fear __made of me
a bewitching hybrid of
broken coat trees and orbital
chair and door_ king_ choir
maybe _____that _elemental
cultivation
of fading into____ the wallpaper
We’re still looking
plush with hunger

My brother speaks
the cloud’s patois
a clatter ___calm ___medium        loosens
a grip wears
on the surface____ of his planet
I said anything
I walked far away
I left my brother behind

More tenderness
might have made us_____ better
failure without the sting

we might have found
magic and known
its transport

the instability was the brutal
______grief of one tornado

-Carmen Giménez Smith

...more

National Poetry Month Day 17: “The Mother In This Poem Is Me or You or Your Mother” by Wendy Chin-Tanner

By

The Mother In This Poem Is Me or You or Your Mother

mother is
a falling
star a bead

of sweat of
blood of bread
our daily

bread on which
we fed the
thread of life

the trouble
and strife of
he you wed

with heart and
head you pledged
in daddy’s

bed there is
no rest for
wickedness

lest evil eye
pry babe from
breast again

I rest my
case on wave
and wind hey

knight hey knave
come save me
blame me for

sin of rage
its wage so
high I am

both monster
and slave shame
me slay me

this is the
Labyrinth
where you play

Theseus
and I play
Minotaur

it’s okay
it’s just a
metaphor

-Wendy Chin-Tanner

...more