Poems Archives - Page 59 of 64

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National Poetry Month: Day 17. “English Sonnet” by Dan Albergotti

English Sonnet As an illustration of the need for spelling reform in English, someone (apparently not, as often attributed, George Bernard Shaw) pointed out that—taking the pronunciation of the letters…

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National Poetry Month: Day 16. “The Blue” by Camille Dungy

The Blue One will live to see the Caterpillar rut everything they walk on—seacliff buckwheat cleared, relentless ice plant to replace it, the wild fields bisected

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National Poetry Month: Day 14. “My Father Finally Says Out Loud the Word I’ve Only Heard Him Think” by Stacey Lynn Brown

My Father Finally Says Out Loud the Word I’ve Only Heard Him Think Calling it a rehab center doesn’t change this nursing home, doesn’t daub dry the drool or bring…

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National Poetry Month: Day 13. “Epilogue” by Ben Mazer

Epilogue It is youth that understands old age and your repulsion is but a projection an image of the loathing you obtain.

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National Poetry Month: Day 12. “An Excursion” by Mary Biddinger

An Excursion I wrote your name backwards on my hand until it hurt.

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National Poetry Month: Day 11. “Schematic” by T. R. Hummer

Schematic Inside the machine is another machine which refers to the machine enclosing it. So he touches her hand, and the image of a child emerges.

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National Poetry Month: Day 10. “Gulls at Todd’s Point” by Annie Finch

Gulls at Todd’s Point Shivering, knowing how lines of the tide use seaweed, and sea-drift, and sea-touch (and bone) to etch with, I wait to be marked on the sand

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National Poetry Month: Day 9. “Camera 4” by Oliver de la Paz

Camera 4

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National Poetry Month: Day 8. Three Poems by Elisa Gabbert

We Have Lost Our Systems of Meaning If it’s cool to be a geek, we have lost our systems of meaning. This was always the goal. We seek methods of…

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National Poetry Month: Day 7. “King: April 7, 1968” by Geoffrey Brock

King: April 7, 1968 We had wanted, at least, to touch your sleeve. We brought both babies as to a christening. —Van K. Brock, “King” We stood in line for…

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National Poetry Month: Day 6. “Say Something” by Katrina Vandenberg

Say something about the old neighbor who lives alone, the woman no one has seen in years, if at all. Say she cracked her yellowed shade and spoke to you,…

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