Tag: poetry

Rooftops Reach for the Sky

Rooftops Reach for the Sky where iridescent pearl glistens through veils of vapour pulled apart like cotton wads sailing along zephyr winds, trailing delicate strands across asterisms woven through zaffre velvet expanse cloaking the waning flurry underneath where tin brutes bleeding coal rumble along paths lit by sallow globes atop poles flickering through fumes that…

Principles of Marriage

By Annika Lee Author’s note: This is a type of found poem from the source text of 1 Corinthians 7, the Holman Christian Standard Bible (HCSB) edition. The selections were made only from the first word of each line (or multiple words, in the case of “a wife” and “a slave”). The work is a deliberate…

Days

By Katherine To-Hauser   Bleakness whispers shouting to inspire the Sickly spinning cogs, dire. For those are days. Pass quick in sum and un-quick in tales told. Dull finger-tipped hoarse breath croaks, ‘Are these days?’ Sleep settles screeching Stop! stand still, head lays, Look up to see the passing days, unchanged Patterns exhaust- ‘What are…

7. devil’s radio

By Annika Lee 1. nostalgia’s mud covers you and a part—a part of you will always want   2. submersion. it always gets worse, never better. entanglements of your heart will never cease their   3. knotted states this therefore is the extent of your one fragile existence:   4. all the food in the…

Youth

By Annika Lee there are so few photos of me from back then my friends were more beautiful, more confident I blushed from shame, not compliments staying behind the camera was preferable   my friends were more beautiful, more confident in their bodies and in their futures staying behind the camera was preferable to putting…

November 9

By Annika Lee   besides, aren’t we all white-knuckled loners with spirits distorted by deferred longing? didn’t we learn from our youth to stand still and quiet in the burning, as fuel to a fire of unfulfillment? but no, I say, no—and no again, to make it muscle memory, habit of my hand and heart….

Wild West Ethos

By Annika Lee found poem from Facebook comments on the 20 September 2021 New York Times article ‘Homeland Security investigates border patrol’s treatment of Haitian immigrants.’   Look closely it’s not the Wild West. Like master to slave God is a whip playing cowboys. So, big man, how would you stop the runner literally walking…

September

By Isa Boere   these silent september skies do nothing but remind me of the golden brown in your eyes   with the breeze caressing my skin and the tall grass touching my knees like your hands once did   while the blackbirds sing their song after rainfall, the world covered in dew september is…

Wildflower

by Boudica Gast   Wildflower – there are wild things around you a tangle of thistles and a web of thorns now you can’t go outside, like the gloom-monger warns well, what do you know? now you can’t get your space to grow between the growing gloom of the claws and the fangs of the…

It Can’t do us Part

as nature’s defence delivers its onslaught – should we commit mass-self-slaughter for the natural world – or is it a mistake a star-crossed affair or the Doomsday dawning the plastic shelves devoid the streets forsaken the drawn-back curtains colourless, pseudoplants on the sills, but the hospitals are all but deserted. journalists thirsty for the death-toll…

Quartered

Boudica Gast One two three four. Off you peel some more – strips and stripped, and I’m stretched naked across your scorching Framework spears splinters into my flesh. Below A bellyless pit, boundlessly slender, and I can’t stand! – to see you To smell and summon and receive your charade. One two three four. Flaky,…

Cold Water

By Boudica Gast   I wrote a poem the other day on the occasion of me and my friend sitting hungover like a pair of idiots on the pavement in the rain. Elliott was just in front of us, yet we didn’t get up and find shelter there. We stayed just where we were, cold…

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