By CAConrad
I feel felt by another but I’malone in the room
Explore Poems: Friends & Enemies
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- By Xin QijiTranslated By Shangyang Fangto the tune “he xin lang: toasting the bridegroom”Now that I am old and those who crossed the mountains…
- By Xin Qiji甚矣吾衰矣。
怅平⽣、交游零落，只今余⼏！
⽩发空垂三千丈，⼀笑⼈间万事。
问何物、能令公喜？
我见青⼭多妩媚，料青⼭见我应如是。
情与貌，略相似。
⼀尊搔⾸东窗⾥。
想渊明、《停云》诗就，此时风味。
江左沉酣求名者… - By ire’ne lara silvait was the truest thing to say a sisterhood
born of struggling and dreaming and training
it was the truest… - By ire’ne lara silvawe didn’t have time for ribbons or petticoats or
high-necked dresses no time for sidesaddles or
single… - By Zach CzaiaI'm sorry it wasn't till the end of the year
that I asked you to write about yourselves. You filled pages… - By Zach CzaiaOpen your mouth. Your tongue,
put it out. Let it wait.
Let it wait till it is
dry and cool. Let it wait… - By Amelia LoefflerYou might be wondering how I got here:
red handed, pants down, under the bleachers
by the football field… - By Amelia LoefflerIn kindergarten, I find myself
sitting cross-legged on the playground,
having a nosebleed. Steady,
… - By Randall MannFirst I want to thank you all for coming,
for standing so patiently in line.
I know these are difficult… - By Karen HoulePulling the foreign body off me— out of the dress up over my arms through the neckhole—
he says, You… - By Karl KnightsYou left a note.
‘Please don’t judge me
too harshly.’ I read it
at your memorial.
I hate that my voice
didn… - By Molly FiskYesterday I was so lonely
I could barely walk,
my friend being mobbed
by her grandchildren
as we made… - By Rita Dovelate, in aqua and ermine, gardenias
scaling her left sleeve in a spasm of scent,
her gloves white, her… - By Natasha SajéDo for your neck what you do for your face.
Face your neck whatever the case. Pace yourself
for 35-55,… - By Patricia Smithcane, cravats, and corsets tell and retell the body’s story the shell we
shroud in guile, romance… - By Matthew RohrerOn someone else’s estate
running through it to avoid
the outdoor wedding there is a grave
in a little copse of trees
so panting we hide out there
How beautiful to lie down
not to be the dead ones there
whose eye sockets are filled with dirt
nothing... - By Sarah RuhlDeath no wild thing
and you a boy,
Max.
One night in your room
(or body)
a forest grew
and the walls
(or cells) became
transparent
because brightness
invites
transparency, I guess.
Then a little boat
to hospital smells.
Doctors called
the forest cancer,
not obscuring leaves.
And you a boy.
You say:
“Why can’t people use the word
courage
instead... - By Helene AchanzarI wish I had hiked the frozen hill tonight
for reception, called to tell you I had a good time
hearing the two Somali cab drivers laughing
near an avalanche of on-sale oranges.
I played a prince in absolute awe
as the orchestra soared.... - By Haki R. Madhubutisuper-cool
ultrablack
a tan/purple
had a beautiful shade.
he had a double-natural
that wd put the sisters to shame.
& his beads were imported sea shells
(from some blk/country i never heard of)
he was triple-hip.
his tikis were hand carved
out of ivory
& came express from the...