Poem
By Shara McCallum
Why yu always ask stupid question, ee?
The man call mango head because him head
shape like mango. What…
The man call mango head because him head
shape like mango. What…
Category
Ekphrasis
Showing 1-20 of 122 results
- PoemBy Ama CodjoeWhat if, Betye, instead of a rifle or hand
grenade—I mean, what if after
the loaded gun that takes two hands
to fire, I lay down the splintered broom
and the steel so cold it wets
my cheek? What if I unclench the valleys
of my... - PoemBy Mag GabbertThe effect—for those three hundred years, while the cupid remained hidden—was a kind of silence.
Like… - ArticleBy Valerie Mejer Caso
- ArticleBy Remica Bingham-RisherWhat do we uncover when we try to salvage history?
- PoemBy Krista FranklinThe handwriting is on the wall
a white smear across the face of the sky
a smear of white
a white chalk smear on a blackboard sky
an inky bleed that eats everything.
Come clean. In the dark
we all look alike,
right? Wing of a bald... - PoemBy Krista FranklinIndigo pool, color of the wings
of the biggest specimen captured
in glass in my second room, that one
iridescent, incandescent, a word
I wish every nigga knew. Not too far
back, my shadow embraced me so long
I thought I was Narcissus, pulled
deep into my... - PoemBy Krista FranklinEveryday some brown
woman pools into inky blue,
a madness that crawls up
from the floor of her and flows
out all around. I should
know, for months swallowed
in the bruise of myself
reaching to hold my hand.
The sun continues to brush
orange light intermittently
everywhere despite the... - PoemBy Abdulkareem AbdulkareemAll things begin from the spindle,
we say—life spun from graces.
I grew like rain from rumbles of my parents’
cloud, a dark dawn, admitting growth.
In the beginning, I squeeze into existence with a head,
white, silhouette-like—formed from
the stomach of the hard earth on... - Glossary Terms“Description” in Greek. An ekphrastic poem is a vivid description of a scene or, more commonly, a work of art.
- PoemBy Mary Jo BangYou once sat on straw mats but clearly
it wasn’t enough.
It must not have been
since you lifted the mat a few inches
and added pegs at the corners.
You knew how legs worked,
you used them to look for your food.
Was the elevation meant... - PoemBy Mary Jo BangI was living a life that was more
or less filled with misfiring synapses
inside a braincase. They said and said
and never stopped saying, “You are
that problem that can’t be undone,
a daughter that keeps becoming
what keeps her mother awake.” I was
in that... - PoemBy Mary Jo BangThat the walls have no texture suggests that we,
the angels and I, are perfect. And we are,
the way children are until they are no longer.
I remember seeing ground and wondering
where walking might take me. Up or down?
In a landscape of... - PoemBy Victoria ChangJan.4.2022
A call is just a call. I pick it up.
Jan.6.2022
I lift blankets looking for my father.
Jan.7.2022
When I take off the patch, your eye is gone.
I spend the day in other people’s tears.
Jan.9.2022
Someone says your eyelid almost came off,
the doctors tried... 
- PoemBy Anne SextonThe town does not exist
except where one black-haired tree slips
up like a drowned woman into the hot sky.
The town is silent. The night boils with eleven stars.
Oh starry starry night! This is how
I want to die.
It moves. They are all...