By Cornelius Eady
I’m here
to tell you
an old story.
This
Appears to be
my work.
I live
in the world,
Walk
the streets…
to tell you
an old story.
This
Appears to be
my work.
I live
in the world,
Walk
the streets…
Explore Poems: The Mind
Showing 1-20 of 3,230 poems
Filter Results
- By R. L. SwihartTranslated By Nora Brooks BlakelyThe young man says, “Alan can
do anything he wants”
“Not fly,” I say
The young man returns
a puzzled look… - By Toi DerricotteWhen relatives came from out of town,
we would drive down to Blackbottom,
drive slowly down the congested… - By JP HowardIf I should ever forget you,
this is my love note to you
You were loved
You were somebody’s lover
You were loving
You held parts of all the women you loved,
somewhere deep in your generous heart
You were heartbroken
You were a heartbreaker too, girl
Sometimes you... - By CAConradFrank is a
young boy
asleep in
ancient
Tibet
what you
thought was
your life is
really his
dream
he may
wake at any
moment - By CAConrad“I’m here for the show” the man said
looking under Frank's shirt for the door
“I’m no theater” Frank said
a line formed
must he admit them all?
many had umbrellas
a blind woman
waited with
her dog
“it’s gonna be a great show” someone said
“but when’s he gonna... - By CAConradFrank knows a
butterfly
who wonders
about her old
caterpillar
friends - By CAConrad“don’t tell me it was
the wind!” Frank shouts
“THAT TREE
WAVED
AT ME!” - By Isabela AgosaThe diagnosis: Briar Rose mapped every corridor
in hunt of her hurt, as if pulled by a thread. Curses
can be softened, but not the spindle’s call. I know
what I am destined for: Ariadne’s map, her trembling
monsters pulled taut around my fingers.... - 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,
its heart a wilting empire.
In late-night editing sessions,
I imagine I’m planting flowers
in the sockets of eyes. Whatever helps
me reach our rigor... - By John MurilloFor me, the movie starts with a black man
Leaping into an orbit of badges, tiny moons
Catching the sheen of his perfect black afro.
Arc kicks, karate chops, and thirty cops
On their backs. It starts with the swagger,
The cool lean into the... - By Georg TraklTranslated By Robert FirmageFull of harmonies is the flight of birds. The green woods
Have closed about the stiller huts at evening;
The crystal meadows of the stag.
Darkness soothes the plashing of the brook, the moist shadows
And the flowers of summer, ringing lovely in the... - By Georg TraklAt evening they bore the stranger into the death parlor;
a scent of tar; the faint rustling of red sycamores;
the dark flight of jackdaws; guard was set up on the square.
The sun has sunk into black linen; again and again this... - By Lynn EmanuelLove is boring and passé, all that old baggage,
the bloody bric-a-brac, the bad, the gothic,
retrograde, obscurantist hum and drum of it
needs to be swept away. So, night after night,
we sit in the dark of the Roxy beside grandmothers
with their shanks... - By Patricia SmithDear ferocious dreamer. Dear maven of song and surveyor of every flung star. Dear meandering romantic, audacious witness, dear listener with the whole of your covetous heart. Dear listener to the air’s brutal and gorgeous music, soft dancer to ballads...
- By Adam O. Davis1.
If a house is haunted like a radio
is haunted If a body is a radio
of blood If a body of ghosts
hums like blood over a valley of
bone If blood is a... - By Kevin PruferThe brutality of those two men
who broke into her apartment
and murdered her boyfriend,
... - By Justin Phillip ReedThere it goes, thin thing,
cheshiring between trees
whose reaper-robes trail
... - By Marwa Helalsay i ‘well
particular in one no to
backed ive time first the isnt this
disaster a of out us - By John TickhillIn a sesone of somere þat souerayne ys of alle,
Þat was þe myry monþ of May when many myrthys spryng,
Þe sonne ys somnore and syre and sendyth tyl vs doun,
And byddyth vs bisy for to be oure bodys for to glade;
Man for to myrth hym in al maner wys,
Bestys for to buske ham on bentys tyl abyde,