By Magda Portal
Translated By Kathleen Weaver
I'm a sea since I could never have been a river
An unchanneled sea
of green merriments
and solitary depths…
An unchanneled sea
of green merriments
and solitary depths…
Explore Poems: Seas, Rivers, & Streams
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- By Camille T. DungyAsk me if I speak for the snail and I will tell you
I speak for the snail.
speak of underneathedness
and the welcome of mosses,
of life that springs up,
little lives that pull back and wait for a moment. - By H.D.Or is it a great tide that covers the rock-pool
so that it and the rock are indistinguishable
from the… - By Alice OswaldIt's a rush, a sploosh of sewage, twenty thousand cubic metres being pumped in, stirred and settled …
- By Richard BrautiganI saw thousands of pumpkins last night
come floating in on the tide,
bumping up against the rocks and
rolling… - By Zoë Skouldingwhat travessia/trip/travesia/trajet
traverses
the wreck/naufragio/
naufragio/naufrage
of… - By Liz HowardAmid moonscape railings
cognition drained its basinone brother was born
on land black from the mineall… - By Don Domanski*
clouds creak in the sky
herons creak in the sky.
*
the dark approaches itself
from all sides once again… - By Karen HouleOne man and one woman park the government Jeep
on the gravel shoulder of the Grand River watershed.
Paired… - By Maya KhoslaWater minus air becomes wound.
Her blowhole, bursts of breathing,
trapped in an endless curtain of netting… - By William Butler YeatsThe unpurged images of day recede;
The Emperor's drunken soldiery are abed;
Night resonance recedes, night-walkers' song
After great cathedral gong;
A starlit or a moonlit dome disdains
All that man is,
All mere complexities,
The fury and the mire of human veins.
Before me floats an image,... - By Jorie GrahamThe blades like irises turning very fast to see you completely—steel-blue then red where the cut occurs…
- By Raúl ZuritaTranslated By William RoweAnd then rained down from ferocious clouds
our empty pupils heard the suspended breakers
beat while down… - By Peter O’LearyIn a wind
the lake's scissoring surface
and the Sun's vernal glare
the gulls cut to curls
in their turns… - By Nicolás GuillénHe aquí la jaula de las culebras.
Enroscados en sí mismos,
duermen los ríos, los sagrados ríos.
El … - By Nicolás GuillénTranslated By Aaron ColemanHere is the serpents’ cage.
Coiled up on themselves,
the rivers, the sacred rivers, sleep.
The Mississippi… - By Ada LimónIs it okay to begin with the obvious? I am full of stones—
is it okay not to look out this window, but to look out another?
A mentor once said, You can't start a poem... - By Cole Swensena river slips
in shifting leaves
sifting. a river sifts
and falls to pieces
in which not seen
... - By Stephen Ratcliffegrey whiteness of fog against invisible
ridge, bird slanting toward pine branch
in foreground, sound of wave in channel
now in a new way and from
was, more than form
... - By Samuel GregoireTranslated By Forrest GanderMy delirium is a transformocean
Rocking me like the seven thousand waves
That brought Wangolo to Ziltik.
Cric . . .
Crack . . .
Tim Tim
Bwa sèch
It’s a tale of salty foam,
Of centuries-old laughter
Breaking out anew in wet reflections,
Of the coming and going of...