By T.S. Leonard
Don’t. The past is overcrowded with the future
closer than you think. You blink, that’s one
eon; a yawn…
closer than you think. You blink, that’s one
eon; a yawn…
Explore Poems: Being Oneself
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- By Miguel A. VegaIf, even now, I am excited about it: every cow & horse,
every canoe on the surface of Pyramid Lake—…
- By Lee Bennett Hopkinsmake
this world
a whole lot
brighter
when
I
grow up
I'll
be
a writer.
I'll
write about
some things
… - By April Halprin WaylandMy sister found them. Read them out loud. She’s so proud, she’s running to our parents waving my poems…
- By Nikki GrimesUp till now,
the math of my life
has been pretty simple:
friends
plus family
plus sports.
What more
… - By Padma VenkatramanThey ignored the new boy,
snickering behind his back.
In silence, I stayed safe.
My lips pressed together… - By Pat MoraSpinning through space for eons,
our earth—oceans, rivers, mountains,
glaciers, tigers, parrots, redwoods… - By Kara Jacksoni look in the mirror, and all the chips i’ve eaten
this month have accumulated
like schoolwork at the… - By Renée WatsonMy body is
perfect and
imperfect and
black and
girl and
big and
thick hair and
short legs and
scraped… - By Kim StaffordI guess you could call me broken,
says one. I’m still lonely, says another,
but now I can name it with… - By Nathalie HandalHe said I was different because I was dark. She said I was different because I wore a scarf. He said…
- By Nikki GrimesI come home,
feet about to bleed
from angry stomping.
“Boy!” says Mom.
“Quit making all that racket.… - By Pat MoraSummer’s ending.
I sit on my desert rock, listen
to the world’s hum.
Crows and ravens caw,
finches… - By Carmen Bernier-GrandOne tiny tree frog
with big eyes
sings happily,
“Kokee! Kokee!”
His brother comes to bother.
Coquí … - By Margarita EngleThe first story I ever write
is a bright crayon picture
of a dancing tree, the branches
tossed by island… - By Margarita EngleI came to Panama planning to dig
the Eighth Wonder of the World,
but I was told that white men
should… - By Margarita EngleOn an island of music
in a city of drumbeats
the drum dream girl
dreamed
of pounding tall conga drums… - By Margarita EngleBooks are door-shaped
portals
carrying me
across oceans
and centuries,
helping me feel
less alone.
… - By Nikki GiovanniIt is appropriate that I sing
The song of the feet
The weight of the body
And what the body chooses… - By Nikki GiovanniThis is for the Pullman Porters who organized when people said
they couldn’t. And carried the Pittsburgh…