Poetry

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

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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.

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

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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.

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