Someone once told me; you can’t analyze poetry, let the words wash over you and make you feel. That's it. There was a time when poetry seemed pretentious, bo...

SEPTEMBER 1, 1939 by W.H. Auden I sit in one of the dives On Fifty-second Street Uncertain and afraid As the clever hopes expire Of a low dishonest decad...

Street Tax today a man on the street pointed to me & said "what the hell is that!?" i wanted to turn around, tell him that i got this dress on sale & i got t...

Between Going and Staying (Translated by Eliot Weinberger) Between going and staying the day wavers, in love with its own transparency. The circular aftern...

All My News (by Leonard Cohen, in “Book of Longing”) 1. I was not meant to be renown in the present market town, but in the future some may find what m...

Beasts Bounding Through Time Van Gogh writing his brother for paints Hemingway testing his shotgun Celine going broke as a doctor of medicine the impossib...

Born: February 18th 1934 - November 17th 1992 Originally from: Harlem, NY ​As a woman of color, lesbian, feminist, civil rights advocate, and child born to ...

The Book of Longing I can't make the hills The system is shot I'm living on pills For which I thank G-d I followed the course From chaos to art Desire t...

Words by Eoin Hanlon Photo by Cassidy Rose Reagan #PoetsCorner

You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I'll rise. Does my sassiness upset yo...

there is enough treachery, hatred violence absurdity in the average human being to supply any given army on any given day and the best at murder are those...

i will crawl for white beauty. eat my arms. barter my legs (make my thighs into altars of grief). for skin that does not drink night. hair that is not angry....

what massacre happens to my son between him living within my skin. drinking my cells. my water. my organs. and his soft psyche turning cruel. does he not rem...

Maxfield Parrish By Eileen Myles I always put my pussy in the middle of trees like a waterfall like a doorway to God like a flock of birds. I always put...

“The woman who checks her make up half a dozen times a day to see if her foundation has caked or her mascara has run, who worries that the wind or the rain m...

I have loved you before, In the windswept village of our forgotten sea. There is the sound of reef fish whispering, of eels slithering out from the underw...

Five Part Poem by Adra Kandil Pt. i Collecting raindrops from the sky I count your words as they pass me by They string me along And weaken my bones And with...