By River 瑩瑩 Dandelion
you had to know the currents, & the sun
stay shallow to keep warm in the waters.
you had to believe you…
stay shallow to keep warm in the waters.
you had to believe you…
Explore Poems: War & Conflict
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- By Dmitry Blizniukпідвал. дальній кут і там старий
згорнутий у колючу більярдну кулю.
лікті й коліна випирають крізь … - By Dmitry Blizniukквартири кришаться під вибухами
як трухляві пні.
автівки згорають немов тополиний пух.
тиша здувається
і… - By Dmitry BlizniukTranslated By Sergey Gerasimovthe basement. the remotest corner and an old man there
is curled into a thorny billiard ball.
the elbows… - By Dmitry BlizniukTranslated By Sergey Gerasimovapartments are crumbling in the explosions
like rotten tree stumps.
automobiles are burning like fluff… - By River 瑩瑩 Dandelionwe wore watermelon husks to hide
lost cargo floating east to hong kong
water lilies & crickets our last… - By Damilola OmotoyinboEven the temple testified to the fragrance
of her hymns—before she was slain
right on the pulpit. While… - By Pamela SneedThe only antidote I may have to Trump’s election
is in a small ferry to Robben Island
one that shuttles… - By Olga LivshinDecember. In Odesa,
power stations, shelled.
Your father’s friend
shivers in his apartment
crammed with … - By Michelle Phương Hồ
On my windowsill, there are insects whose skeletal remains
remain intact. Fruit flies or gnats… - By Edward SalemGod said (and already you can tell
I’m making this up),
If you lift a rock, I am there.
If you lift a finger… - By Shaina A. NezKéyah ‘ashdladiingo bił háhoodzooígíí Bidahnaat’a’í shił nilįįgo biniinaa bich’į ‘ádíshní Háálá ‘á…
- By Kinsale DrakeIn the years of scorched earth,
Kit Carson’s pale-knife face
bayonetting the sky, his blood thirst,
… - By Crisosto Apachean american accessory in many hands
bee ’eldǫǫh [hollow barrel—a gun]
da ‘dindi [clouds explode… - By Rowie Shondeen ShebalaWell she actually said
if you were an Ewok I would rescue you and name you Sunshine
build you a tiny… - By Cameron BarnettThis is how the story begins: a touch, a bump, a hot mouth,
jostled skin in an elevator, escalation, … - By Meredith StrickerEvery morning opening the newspaper, I am faced
with the thin line that divides disaster and deprivation
from a world of luminous wealth. Tuesday, January 29th,
for instance, bodies, many of them children, lie on the ground
They drowned in the canal trying to escape a weapons depot fire
and explosion in Lagos. Their heads are twisted in straw and dust
near the feet of on-lookers whose cries we cannot hear - By Chaelee DaltonConsider the market. Consider the gross domestic product of Korea. Call it Kimchi.
Ferment culture in… - By Anastasia Taylor-LindIt’s 9/11 the first time you stay.
In the morning you bring Taliban poems back to bed.
I drink cardamom… - By Sasha DugdaleThe downs are certainly lovely, although by mortal loveliness
did you mean they would disappear one day…