By Cornelius Eady
I’m here to tell you an old story. ThisAppears to be my work. I live in the world,Walk the streets of...
Explore Poems: Anaphora
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- By James CagneyI come from the kidnapped, the assaulted— my country’tis of reparations as in-store credit backordered...
- By Sara Abou RashedWhen I die, bury me in the sky— no one is fighting over it. Children are playing soccer with empty bomb...
- By Kimiko HahnIf you could hear, at every jolt, the building quiver— If you could hear fossils stirring— If you could...
- By Ava CipriHere is the encyclopedia where I learn first position Here is where I begin ballet: at 12, in a class...
- By Patti SmithI feel like I feel like shit I need a I need a drink and not vinegar neither I don’t want to die I feel...
- By Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinhayou mean well, butwhen I say I hurt when I say some part ofmy body hurts and you say oh, did you do ...
- By Tishani DoshiGirls are coming out of the woods, wrapped in cloaks and hoods, carrying iron bars and candles and a...
- By Anne SextonFirst Psalm Let there be a God as large as a sunlamp to laugh his heat at you. Let there be an earth with a form...
- By Eloisa Amezcuabecause we know distance too well because the blood bank didn’t have enough blood for nana & her new...
- By Traci BrimhallI must be the heavy globe of hydrangea, always bowing by summer’s end. Must be salt, like sadness at...
- By Larry NealHoly the days of the prune face junkie men Holy the scag pumped arms Holy the Harlem faces looking for...
- By Richard BlancoSeventeen suns rising in seventeen bedroom windows. Thirty-four eyes blooming open with the light of...
- By sam saxgoodbye city. goodbye stoop. goodbye rush hour traffic plume. goodbye feminist qpoc weed delivery group...
- By Natalie Scenters-ZapicoI’ve stopped asking: ¿Why? I’ve let a man whistle from the table for more beer, & brought it to him with a smile...
- By Danez Smithyou save me half a bag of skins, the hard parts, my fav, dusted orange with hot • you say we can’t go...
- By Justice Ameerthe bo’y wakes up the bo’y looks at itself the bo’y notices something missing there is both too much...
- By John Lee ClarkA Deaf Blind poet doesn’t like to read sitting up. A Deaf Blind poet likes to read Braille magazines...
- By Langston HughesLet America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on the plain...
- By Tracy K. SmithOne of the women greeted me. I love you, she said. She didn't Know me, but I believed her, And a terrible...