By Kimberly Johnson
i
The last time I lost you, I had turned
To salt. The hospice nurses all assured
An easier passing…
The last time I lost you, I had turned
To salt. The hospice nurses all assured
An easier passing…
Explore Poems: Living
Showing 1-20 of 9,252 poems
- By Magda PortalI'm a sea since I could never have been a river
An unchanneled sea
of green merriments
and solitary depths… - By Norla Cheemiss you calling me at work
leaving stupid jokes on my phone
like the one about the Arapaho, the Navajo… - By Jake Skeetslook
see the sun
scraped wallpaper
green wind
damp soap on a shower wall
see hushed sage
needle … - By Dorothy ParkerUnto seventy years and seven,
Hide your double birthright well—
You, that are the brat of Heaven
And … - By Countee CullenWhat if you come
Again and swell
The throat of some
Mute bird;
How shall I tell?
How shall I know
That it … - By avery r. young
- By Meredith StrickerEvery morning opening the newspaper, I am faced
with the thin line that divides disaster and deprivation… - By Malcolm TariqYou may find her behind
Rowan Oak, a shadow
of fortress where then now
you find no real entry… - By Malcolm TariqIn church
we said Satan, get thee behind
and I always laughed. A demon child
with a twisted mouth… - By Alice Notley"A car" "awash with blood" "Blood at our feet" "& I
& others" "have small springs" "of blood from our… - By BashōWake, butterfly—
it's late, we've miles
to go together. - By Emily DickinsonI'm Nobody! Who are you?
Are you - Nobody - too?
Then there's a pair of us!
Dont tell! they'd banish… - By Emily DickinsonGrief is a Mouse -
And chooses Wainscot in the Breast
For His shy House -
And baffles quest - Grief is … - By Carolyn ForchéThese are your stones, assembled in matchbox and tin,
collected from roadside, culvert, and viaduct,
battlefield… - By D. H. LawrenceThe Last Lesson
When will the bell ring, and end this weariness?
How long have they tugged the leash… - By Sarah CarsonThe last man here wanted
what could not be taken: My girl, he'd say,
my baby. The narrow of his eyes… - By Sarah CarsonThe first gun we knew came in a toolbox for the apocalypse: hammer, barrel, crushed can, pack of Newports…
- By Carol Ann DuffyAt childhood’s end, the houses petered out
into playing fields, the factory, allotments
kept, like mistresses… - By Adrian Matejkabecause of want & tumble?
Because of word crumbles in the kitchen’s halogen?
No. Separate bedrooms for…