Poem
By Rochelle Hurt
[as jumping from a plane. easier—a bridge. as tripping on a shoelace. as blinking your eyes. as breathing…
Category
Ekphrasis
Showing 1-20 of 127
- PoemBy Rochelle Hurt[all my exes agree i’m too sensitive. inside i’m keeping track of slights on one long receipt, a diaristic…
- PoemBy Rochelle Hurt[if you marry your confession, you can live alone inside it. no priest behind the window. no wife or…
- PoemBy Shara McCallumWhy yu always ask stupid question, ee?
The man call mango head because him head
shape like mango. What… - PoemBy Ama CodjoeWhat if, Betye, instead of a rifle or hand
grenade—I mean, what if after
the loaded gun that takes two hands
to fire, I lay down the splintered broom
and the steel so cold it wets
my cheek? What if I unclench the valleys
of my... - PoemBy Mag GabbertThe effect—for those three hundred years, while the cupid remained hidden—was a kind of silence.
Like… - ArticleBy Valerie Mejer CasoTranslated By Valerie Mejer Caso
- ArticleBy Remica Bingham-RisherWhat do we uncover when we try to salvage history?
- PoemBy Krista FranklinThe handwriting is on the wall
a white smear across the face of the sky
a smear of white
a white chalk smear on a blackboard sky
an inky bleed that eats everything.
Come clean. In the dark
we all look alike,
right? Wing of a bald... - PoemBy Krista FranklinIndigo pool, color of the wings
of the biggest specimen captured
in glass in my second room, that one
iridescent, incandescent, a word
I wish every nigga knew. Not too far
back, my shadow embraced me so long
I thought I was Narcissus, pulled
deep into my... - PoemBy Krista FranklinEveryday some brown
woman pools into inky blue,
a madness that crawls up
from the floor of her and flows
out all around. I should
know, for months swallowed
in the bruise of myself
reaching to hold my hand.
The sun continues to brush
orange light intermittently
everywhere despite the... - PoemBy Abdulkareem AbdulkareemAll things begin from the spindle,
we say—life spun from graces.
I grew like rain from rumbles of my parents’
cloud, a dark dawn, admitting growth.
In the beginning, I squeeze into existence with a head,
white, silhouette-like—formed from
the stomach of the hard earth on... - Glossary Terms“Description” in Greek. An ekphrastic poem is a vivid description of a scene or, more commonly, a work of art.
- PoemBy S.J. Fowler & Rebecca KamenSIR, the 28 spheres of Kamen’s harmony
Susceptible, inferred, immense, actual - the electron microscopy provides images of the virus long in memories.
It shows grey spinning, transforming this (I point to the past fifteen months) into orbs.
Here they are, grown enormous, before you in place, not within you in space. For what else can it become but the potential for indifferent attractiveness.
A memory, this spread; a novel micrography.
The SIR diagram is a mirror that creates a migratory pattern in the mind, as one would imagine birds flying, out of sight.
Of birds then. The diagram is a symbol that brings nets down, and what gets trapped in nets, as it is expelled from our hands, and rid by water, is a thing, that reflects, traces, and symbolizes.
Both the virus, and us.
The universe participates in making the artist well, and an instigator.
The participation of the invisible moves the virus into view.
A speck, a spread, a tiny writing in the air, a diagram, an avian metaphor, an object installed to illuminate. All of this, completely noiseless.
And this is why I write to you, in order to not speak the word, and have it just be seen.