From the magazine:For the Cult-Themed Party
By Jacques J. Rancourt
I dressed as a stag: headpiece
of antlers, fabric flowers
hot-glued to a harness, my ass
hanging out of…
of antlers, fabric flowers
hot-glued to a harness, my ass
hanging out of…
Explore Poems: Passion
Showing 1-20 of 28
From the magazine:All my life I was a bride married to amazement
By Jane ZwartWhen death comes, final and novel—
the trick cul-de-sac or burst dam, a door
that opening erases or shutting…- By Sri ChinmoyThere was a time when I loved
The fantastic fabrics of the mind.
There was a time
When I lived my life
Based… - By Major JacksonThe screen's fabrications remain. A film
shot never fails, sailing through the century
like a black V … - By Li-Young LeeAnd when, in the city in which I love you,
even my most excellent song goes unanswered,
and I mount the… - By Jake SkeetsClouds in his throat,
six months' worth.
He bodies into me
half cosmos, half coyote.
We become night
on Bread… - By Patricia Smith1. You crush me with your damning glimpses, Anna. You,so rancorous, so wounding, and so cruelly bred…
From the magazine:
[To voice something that doesn’t end…]
By Tilsa OttaTranslated By Farid MatukTo voice something that doesn’t end in a smile is odd. The spirit circles the body, doctors can’t see…- By Sri ChinmoyWithin, without the cosmos wide am I;
In joyful sweep I loose forth and draw back all.
A birthless, deathless… From the magazine:
Notice
By Cheryl Boyce-TaylorNotice my mother
look at her fly coat—look at her
maple leaves turn magenta when she walks by
there’s envy in the stars tonight
my mother passed and they fought about who was prettier
she or the moon
who deserved to polish Orion’s Belt
who should swim...From the magazine:
Weeping, Nina
By Staceyann Chinsends notes
out on the water
small droplets of sorrow
from time to time/she embeds
a smile
but mostly/she cries
wide Sargasso/seas and seas and seas of wet
what kind of world do we/imagine a child
abandoned by everything familiar
she could be Iraqi
Jamaican/Indian/Chinese
pick a culture/any culture
place her in...- By Emma HineI don’t realize I’m starved
for the color until the blood
washes up on the beach.
I’m craving red but still
haven’t seen the creature,
just the quick whip and slither
of its tail in the wake
—and then there I am,
facing the skin side
of the animatronic... From the magazine:
Breed Me
By Richie HofmannMy sweat soaked the sheets.
You used to be like everyone else
but then
the way you hurt me (fingers, teeth):
I grew accustomed to it
then I craved it
then I got bored
and other men tried to put death into my mouth.
Angelic Richie with bite...From the magazine:
“I want to sleep with you elbow to elbow”
By Joyce MansourTranslated By Emilie MoorhouseI want to sleep with you elbow to elbow
Hair entwined
Genitals enlaced
With your mouth as a pillow.
I want to sleep with you back to back
Without breath to keep us apart
Without words to distract us
Without eyes to tell lies
Without clothes.
I want to...From the magazine:
The Language of Dust
By Assotto Saintwhere
do you find
strength
to climb
down the hill
to your lover’s
grave
what
do you bring
but thirteen years
of memories/
how do you deal
with his death
when your gasps
loom
in the autumn air
like circling crows
spasms rock
your body
like squirrels
shake the scarlet oak
& purple dogwood
branches
while through the buzz
of a helicopter
the roar
of an...From the magazine:
jeanne d’arc
By Patti SmithI feel like
I feel like shit
I need a
I need a drink
and not vinegar neither
I don’t want to die
I feel like a freak
don’t let me cut out
I wasn’t cut out
to go out virgin
I want my cherry
squashed man
hammer amour
love me
live me
hour to...From the magazine:
To You, from Your Secret Admirer
By Sharon OldsI love the conversations we have
after making love—of course it’s just me, making
love to myself, talking to you,
loving you—though I do not really
know you, so I guess not loving you—
craving the dream of knowing you.
“When will I be able to...From the magazine:
So Many Books, So Little Time
By Haki R. MadhubutiFrequently during my mornings of pain & reflection
when I can’t write
or articulate my thoughts
or locate the mindmusic needed
to complete the poems & essays
that are weeks plus days overdue
forcing me to stop, I cease
answering my phone, eating right, running my miles,
reading...From the magazine:
[Cupid laid by his brand, and fell asleep]
By Trevor Ketnerbleed bull (lip, hair, spine)—sad candy fad—
anon, i shave a dad, dig a staff into mud,
stir daddylevel dick in hole—figpink sequin
froth—an idol (lunate god of ivy, cunt, anal,
riverdoes, holy bitchwolf, form)—oh whir of
illustrative land—oh sedate eyes, tell
nothing, deny map—chew he-twig,...- By John KeatsThou still unravish'd bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:...