Poem
By Dorothea Lasky
In every rose there is the scent of death
I thought I was one of them
But I’m not and I’ve never been
Who…
I thought I was one of them
But I’m not and I’ve never been
Who…
Category
Anxiety & Insecurity
Showing 1-20 of 2,809 results
- PoemBy Lauren RussellHammock dumping
you onto bruised
grasses, frayed
thoughts droop
sideways, hammering
morning. Slipper-
footed… 
- PoemBy William ShakespeareYou do look, my son, in a moved sort,
As if you were dismay'd: be cheerful, sir.
Our revels now are ended… - PoemBy Afrizal MalnaWORKSHOP 5: TAWANAN AKU
gema suaranya kembali lagi membuat dinding bunyi
dari suaranya
berdiri melingkar
di depan bulatan penuh perangkap waktu
jari-jari yang menggenggam tikus - PoemBy Afrizal MalnaTranslated By Daniel OwenWORKSHOP 5: MY CAPTIVE
its voice’s echo comes back to make a sound wall
of its voice
standing in a circle
in front of a globe full of time traps
fingers that clutch a rat - PoemBy H.D.Or is it a great tide that covers the rock-pool
so that it and the rock are indistinguishable
from the… - PoemBy Meredith StrickerI was thinking of some of the messages Rilke will never receive: — dentist called abt your appt tomorrow…
- PoemBy Zach CzaiaOpen your mouth. Your tongue,
put it out. Let it wait.
Let it wait till it is
dry and cool. Let it wait… - PoemBy Sarah CarsonThe last man here wanted
what could not be taken: My girl, he'd say,
my baby. The narrow of his eyes… - PoemBy Adrian Matejkabecause of want & tumble?
Because of word crumbles in the kitchen’s halogen?
No. Separate bedrooms for… - PoemBy Nick FlynnSaint Augustine preached humility &
the need to simply be on the ground.
Do you wish to rise? he asked… - PoemBy Anastasia Taylor-Lindv.
Isn’t it dangerous to be a woman? Surrounded by men, questions
about risk-taking, parenting (I’m childless… - PoemBy Maggie QueeneyThe look I am hunting: the one
that through color and cut glares the starer into a skull or a skein
of… - PoemBy Maggie QueeneyA corruption of grammar—what knowledge
I have come by comes through the eyes To my hands—lightning runs… - PoemBy Blas FalconerIn Francisco Oller’s El Velorio, a child lies
on a table as if sleeping. It is covered in lace
and blossoms… - PoemBy Sheila MaldonadoI’m from the
monitor in
the middle of
the Americas
I am a monitor
in the middle
of the Americas
I monitor…