By Sharon Olds
But I love the I, steel I-beam
that my father sold. They poured the pig iron
into the mold, and it fed…
that my father sold. They poured the pig iron
into the mold, and it fed…
Explore Poems: Metaphor
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- By Li-Young LeeAnd when, in the city in which I love you,
even my most excellent song goes unanswered,
and I mount the… - By Joshua SeigalI don’t like similes.Every time I try to think of onemy brain feels like a vast, empty desert;my eyes…
- By Ada LimónI pass the feeder and yell, Grackle party! And then an hour later I yell, Mourning dove afterparty! …
- By Ada LimónIs it okay to begin with the obvious? I am full of stones—
is it okay not to look out this window, but… - By Ada LimónMy brother holds a snake by its head. The whole
length of the snake is the length
of my brother’s body… - By Cornelius EadyI’m here
to tell you
an old story.
This
Appears to be
my work.
I live
in the world,
Walk
the streets… - By Cornelius EadySome folks will tell you the blues is a woman,
Some type of supernatural creature.
My mother would tell… - By Frank X. Walker...walk into a bar in America.
Butterworth says, I’m being repackaged.
Ben says, I’m being rebranded… - By David RoderickI wear a flower in my lapel.
I like the sweetness of its lie in my nose.
A carnation, the fool’s flower… - By Mike DoughtyHe was jailed for cruelty to insects, and his agent wasn’t answering the phone, so he stayed awake in…
- By Ama Codjoe1.
He had a caribou's face. Once he let me
lick the sadness there. It tasted of salt
and moss-covered… - By Walela NehandaCrip (noun): slang for a disabled person/the whole of
the disabled community/
a school of thought
Example… - By Jos Charlesits a secrete
the grls speeching mye hole /
inn 2 the lindens … - By Kevin PruferThe brutality of those two men
who broke into her apartment
and murdered her boyfriend,
then, as she… - By Justin Phillip ReedThere it goes, thin thing,
cheshiring between trees
whose reaper-robes trail
their trains deep underground… - By Aria AberOver Skype, I try to document my mother’s
bald-shaved youth—she has a surplus in truths,
and science… - By Emily BrontëO transient voyager of heaven!
O silent sign of winter skies!
What adverse wind thy sail has driven… - By Rajiv MohabirLook at your feet, so beautiful. Do
not step on the ground, filth will smear them;
your future will… - By Liz BerryI crossed the border into the Republic of Motherhood
and found it a queendom, a wild queendom.
I handed…