April Chores by Jane Kenyon When I take the chilly tools from the shed’s darkness, I come out to a world made new by heat and light. The snake basks and dozes on a large flat stone. It reared and scolded me for raking too close…
Poem: A Modified Villanelle for My Childhood
A Modified Villanelle for My Childhood –Suzi F. Garcia with some help from Ahmad I wanna write lyrical, but all I got is magical. My book needs a poem talkin bout I remember when Something more autobiographical Mi familia wanted to assimilate,…
Poem: The Dark Night (XVIII)
The Dark Night (XVIII) –May Sinclair Our love is woven Of a thousand strands— The cool fragrance of the first lilac At morning, The first dew on the grass, The smell of wild mint in the wood, The pungent and earthy smell of ground…
Poem: pity this busy monster, manunkind
pity this busy monster, manunkind –e. e. cummings pity this busy monster, manunkind, not. Progress is a comfortable disease: your victim (death and life safely beyond) plays with the bigness of his littleness — electrons deify one razorblade into a…
Poem: Gratitude List
Gratitude List –Naomi Shihab Nye Thank you for insulting me. You helped me see how much I was worth. Thank you for overlooking my humanity. In that moment I gained power. To be forgotten by the wider world and the righteous religious and the weaponized…
Poem : Blue Like That
Blue Like That –Gerald Stern She was a darling with her roses, though what I like is lavender for I can dry it and nothing is blue like that, so here I am, in my arms a bouquet of tragic lavender, the whole history of…
Poem: High, Higher, Highest
High, Higher, Highest Samuel Hazo Viewed from space, the world’s impersonal. France appears, but no Frenchmen. Then Germany, without one German. Regardless, the richest man on earth pays three hundred thousand for a ten-minute flight by rocket at three thousand miles…
Poem: Gifts
Gifts Kirk Wilson I kept my life in a small room with pale blue walls and brought it back little presents from the world This is for you I would say This is for you Sometimes the gifts died in my hands and often I could not pay the…
National Poetry Month
By the way, April is National Poetry Month!
Rose is Rose on Libraries