Poems
Poem of The Day
By Ae Hee Lee
I needed money. There’s no poetic way to say this.
Even so, when you touched my face, brought my
cheeks to the nook of your neck, I burrowed into it—
a firefly seeking shelter from winter, far
underground. Then,
you...
Even so, when you touched my face, brought my
cheeks to the nook of your neck, I burrowed into it—
a firefly seeking shelter from winter, far
underground. Then,
you...
Poem of The Day
By Anna Akhmatova
...and a decrepit handful of trees.
—Aleksandr Pushkin
And I matured in peace born of command,
in the nursery of the infant century,
and the voice of man was never dear to me,
but the breeze’s voice—that I could...
—Aleksandr Pushkin
And I matured in peace born of command,
in the nursery of the infant century,
and the voice of man was never dear to me,
but the breeze’s voice—that I could...
Poem of The Day
By Carl Phillips
Above me, the branches toss toward and away from each other
the way privacy does with what ends up
showing, despite ourselves, of
who we are, inside.
Then...
the way privacy does with what ends up
showing, despite ourselves, of
who we are, inside.
Then...
Browse All Poems
Featured Poetic Term
Glossary Terms
An occasional verse form, usually in celebration of a wedding.
Poem Guides
Poem GuideBy Joshua WeinerTouch, risk, trust, improvisation—“the intellect as powerhouse of love.”
Poem GuideBy Kazim AliThe poet shines a bright new light on Lucifer, who answers God in a whirlwind of verse.
From the Poetry Magazine Archive
- PoemBy Destiny O. Birdsongthe women, small and neat,
top each other like
slices of wonder bread.
when she and i
finally meet,
we knead each other—
fresh dough—
adjusting our
rehearsed finger-tread.
outside, magnolias
cup their sepals
like good hands.
inside, we spade
like leaves: tenderly,
and only at each other’s bidding.
when my sister
stopped speaking to me,
what... - PoemBy Timothy LiuComing back
from the ski trip
in the back of a van,
it had gotten dark
enough for
the steady hum
of the engine
to lull us all
into a deep sleep—
my best friend
and I having
the backseat
all to ourselves.
Have you ever felt
your body starting
to lean toward
its truest
intentions—head
hoping hard
for... - PoemBy Bruce SniderShe lip-syncs “Hello God,” then “9 to 5.”
She struts. Or does she fly? Like the soul,
a rhinestone, she tells us, will never die.
She’s a blush-pink Bible. Patched together,
she’s a cosmic doll. Mirror of a mirror,
she winks, her face the only...
Featured terms
- Glossary Terms
Erasure Poetry
- Glossary Terms
Ode
- Glossary Terms
Epithalamion
- Glossary Terms
New York School
- Glossary Terms
Tanka