By Malcolm Tariq
In church
we said Satan, get thee behind
and I always laughed. A demon child
with a twisted mouth,
we said Satan, get thee behind
and I always laughed. A demon child
with a twisted mouth,
Explore Poems: Subjects
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- Translated By Daniel OwenDecember is a straight ruler, very straight,
and broken in its straightness. A break
hidden in its fracture, a break that
sees silence from its fracture.
And wind, and what groans below a ruler,
and speaking, and tomorrow—January—January—will
come along a past path. A path that... - Translated By Daniel OwenDesember adalah penggaris yang lurus, lurus sekali,
dan putus dalam kelurusannya. Putus yang
tersembunyi dalam patahannya sendiri, putus yang
melihat kesunyian dari patahannya sendiri.
Dan angin, dan yang mengerang di bawah penggaris,
dan berkata, dan besok—Januari—Januari—akan
datang melalui jalur yang lalu. Jalur dengan bau
rempah-rempah, gula, kopi,... - By H.D.Or is it a great tide that covers the rock-pool
so that it and the rock are indistinguishable
from the… - By H.D.O, do not bring snow-water
but fresh snow;
I would be bathed with stars,
new fallen from heaven,
one with… - By Meredith StrickerEvery morning opening the newspaper, I am faced
with the thin line that divides disaster and deprivation
from a world of luminous wealth. Tuesday, January 29th,
for instance, bodies, many of them children, lie on the ground
They drowned in the canal trying to escape a weapons depot fire
and explosion in Lagos. Their heads are twisted in straw and dust
near the feet of on-lookers whose cries we cannot hear - By Meredith StrickerI was thinking of some of the messages Rilke will never receive: — dentist called abt your appt tomorrow…
- By Meredith Strickerin the DMZ ravines north of the Kaesong wastes edging
south of the perfect ruler’s pink and prisoned paradisethere is a climate paying no attention to us where cranes
repopulate serpentine deltas - By Cameron BarnettThis is how the story begins: a touch, a bump, a hot mouth,
jostled skin in an elevator, escalation, … - By Camille T. DungyAsk me if I speak for the snail and I will tell you
I speak for the snail.
speak of underneathedness
and the welcome of mosses,
of life that springs up,
little lives that pull back and wait for a moment. - By Malcolm TariqYou may find her behind
Rowan Oak, a shadow
of fortress where then now
you find no real entry place. - By Alice Notley"A car" "awash with blood" "Blood at our feet" "& I
& others" "have small springs" "of blood from our… - By Emily DickinsonWe should not mind so small a flower
Except it quiet bring
Our little garden that we lost
Back to the … - 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— - By Caroline Harper NewA man by the name of Skinner becomes famous
for keeping caged
pigeons, whom his clock feeds or starves
at random. Their tiny twitching heads exaggerate until... - By Carolyn ForchéThese are your stones, assembled in matchbox and tin,
collected from roadside, culvert, and viaduct,
battlefield… - By Irina RatushinskayaI know it won't be received
Or sent. The page will be
In shreds as soon as I have scribbled it.
Later. … - By Chaelee DaltonConsider the market. Consider the gross domestic product of Korea. Call it Kimchi.
Ferment culture in… - By Shereen AkhtarIn our first house-let in London, she drew on the tablecloth to create
a calligraphic feast. Our friends…