By Bruce Bond
We would only get so far,
given the casualties
buried in each point of view.
This one, this one, this…
given the casualties
buried in each point of view.
This one, this one, this…
Explore Poems: Parenthood
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- By Paul TranMixed greens. Purple onions. Banana
Peppers. Tomatoes. Avocados. Mayonnaise. Pepper. Sourdough.
A stranger… - By Kate PartridgeThe dentist is now the same
age as me, which is troubling,
mostly because of what I
have and have not done… - By Joshua BennettThe money of the mind is attention, maybe.
Which is not, initially, where I thought I’d begin,
but we… - By Kirsten KaschockThe sea, I mean. If you walk out into
its maw without thought, you will die.
I don’t care what kind… - By J. Mae BarizoMorning in the city and the performance
that is Madison Avenue wearing diamond
studs for breakfast, my… - By Serena AlagappanThis morning, the wind whipped the trees
so hard one sycamore head snapped,
its leaves strewn on my… - By Miguel A. VegaIf, even now, I am excited about it: every cow & horse,
every canoe on the surface of Pyramid Lake—…
- By Li-Young LeeAnother word for father is worry.
Worry boils the water
for tea in the middle of the night.
Worry trimmed… - By Sharon OldsBut I love the I, steel I-beam
that my father sold. They poured the pig iron
into the mold, and it fed out slowly,
a bending jelly in the bath, and it hardened,
Bessemer, blister, crucible, alloy, and he
marketed it, and bought bourbon, and... - By Blas FalconerIn Francisco Oller’s El Velorio, a child lies
on a table as if sleeping. It is covered in lace
and blossoms… - By Jordan PérezWhen the purple snap peas in the garden
couldn’t find anything to grasp onto, the shoots
ferned into… - By Ada LimónOn my way to the fertility clinic,
I pass five dead animals.
First a raccoon with all four paws… - By Triin PajaI touch your curls and the nubs
of antlers. our village is far,
still audible: the melancholy
of distant… - By Rüştü OnurTranslated By Hüseyin Alhas & Ulaş ÖzgünClouds are on the yardarms,
Clouds are sailful.
Desires are on pomegranate trees
Desires are basketful… - By Rüştü OnurBulutlar seren direklerinde,
Bulutlar yelken dolusu.
Arzular nar ağaçlarında
Arzular sepetler dolusu… - By Faisal MohyuddinNeither knows why the other is there.
My brother is not allowed to say. My father is
dead. Stop thinking… - By Christian J. CollierBetween us, there are one hundred one
umber haints in our home.
In bed, we discuss
our future, our children… - By Heather ChristleMy child is upset that they cannot jump over their shadow.
They want me to help them. They want me … - By James JoyceFrail the white rose and frail are
Her hands that gave
Whose soul is sere and paler
Than time's wan wave…