By Sri Chinmoy
Ultimately everything
Becomes boring.
Even great miracles
Become boring.
Even the tremendous powers of…
Becomes boring.
Even great miracles
Become boring.
Even the tremendous powers of…
Explore Poems: Refrain
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- By Thomas BrackenGod of Nations at Thy feet,
In the bonds of love we meet,
Hear our voices, we entreat,
God defend our free… - By Walela NehandaCrip (noun): slang for a disabled person/the whole of
the disabled community/
a school of thought
Example: “I’m on crip time”
Meaning: Time bends differently when the universe that is
my body dictates it
Crip (noun): a Black gang that originated in... - By Adam O. Davis1.
If a house is haunted like a radio
is haunted If a body is a radio
of blood If a body of ghosts
hums like blood over a valley of
bone If blood is a... - By James CagneyI come from the kidnapped,
the assaulted—
my country’tis of reparations as in-store credit
... - By Federico García LorcaVerde que te quiero verde.
Verde viento. Verdes ramas.
El barco sobre la mar
y el caballo en la montaña.
Con la sombra en la cintura,
ella sueña en su baranda
verde carne, pelo verde,
con ojos de fría plata.
Verde que te quiero verde.
Bajo la luna gitana,
las... - By Inger ChristensenTranslated By Susanna Niedso here I stand by the
out there is the
and it looks like the
is always alone with the
but around behind the
the water stops at
and just behind
ice drifts in the
and just behind the
there’s solid ice at the
and just behind the
it looks like... - By Federico García LorcaTranslated By Sarah ArvioGreen I want you green
green wind green branches
Boat on the sea and
horse on the mountain
Shadow on her waist
she dreams at her railing
green flesh green hair
eyes of cold silver
Green I want you green
Under the gypsy moon
things are seeing her
but she can’t... - By Federico García Lorca1.
La cogida y la muerte
A las cinco de la tarde.
Eran las cinco en punto de la tarde.
Un niño trajo la blanca sábana
a las cinco de la tarde.
Una espuerta de cal ya prevenida
a las cinco de la tarde.
Lo demás era muerte... - By Federico García LorcaTranslated By Sarah Arvio1
The Goring and the Death
At five in the afternoon
At the stroke of five
The boy brought the white sheet
at five o’clock
A basket of lime all ready
at five o’clock
The rest was death and only death
at five o’clock
Wind carried off the cotton balls
at... - By Cedric Tillmanyou know I ain’t mess w/you ’cause of yo’ friends
wouldn’t have you caught slummin’
know you hood 'cause you said
I look the same
and I said
you look the same
and I said “it don’t crack, doit?
and you said “Uh, OKAY?”
that’s that thing right... - By Nikki GiovanniI watched Mommy
Cook
Though I cooked
With Grandmother
With Grandmother I learned
To pluck chickens
Peel carrots
Turn chittlins inside out
Scrub pig feet
With Mommy I watched
leftovers for stew
Or vegetable soup
Great northern beans
Mixed collards turnips and mustard greens
Garlic cloves Bay Leaves
Very beautifully green
Stiff so fresh
With just a... - By Javier Zamora[byline]northern triangle—First, I lived near mud, there, I carved some things. Then, I found a well, yo soy un bicho migrante. I had to climb trees, find mollusks, made a knife to eat them raw. Later, later-later, I worried about...
- By Thomas McCarthyMagic rain magic mist magic dew magic hail
Magic darkness magic sea magic waves magic
River magic fountain magic well magic spring
That bursts forth when a magic spear pierces
Rock magic oak tree magic ash magic lime tree
Magic bough magic yew magic hawthorn... - By Diane Gilliam FisherShe cannot imagine it otherwise.
She wakes in the morning and twists her ring,
loves how every night in their bed he lies
breathing warm in the dark and never shies
away. He lets her talk, he lets her sing.
She cannot imagine it otherwise.
One... - By Geoffrey ChaucerFle fro the pres, and dwelle with sothefastnesse,
Suffise thin owen thing, thei it be smal;
For hord hath hate, and clymbyng tykelnesse,
Prees hath envye, and wele blent overal.
Savour no more thanne the byhove schal;
Reule weel thiself, that other folk canst reede;
And... - By Maya AngelouYou may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
’Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in... - By Louis MacNeiceTime was away and somewhere else,
There were two glasses and two chairs
And two people with the one pulse
(Somebody stopped the moving stairs):
Time was away and somewhere else.
And they were neither up nor down;
The stream’s music did not stop
Flowing through heather,... - By Vi Khi Naofish carcass
say hello to pork rind
+ arborio rice
while castaway caraway puree returns
home to deconstruct wilted carrot
from its butter + herb remnants
fish carcass
say goodbye to a knife fight
between under-marinated onion slice
+ wasted redbor kale
amidst a gun battle between
grilled salmon + paprika
fish... - By Vi Khi NaoTarrargon, are you a wild boar?
My friend, lemon zest, has not been that
Thyme, Cognac, falooda glass noodle
These things prowl the night without cape
Gooseberries or bacalao
Tarragon, are you a wild boar?
Each time I eat you, I stop breathing
Little owl, where is...