By Janice Lobo Sapigao
1.
i wish i could tell you why i go back and forth between cities.
maybe i belong to the bridges &…
i wish i could tell you why i go back and forth between cities.
maybe i belong to the bridges &…
Explore Poems: Infatuation & Crushes
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- By SapphoTranslated By Anne CarsonHe seems to me equal to gods that man
whoever he is who opposite you
sits and listens close
to your … - By Kinsale DrakeI want
my Luci Tapahonso cowboy
with a shining belt
and a good dog
he likes my legs in blue jeans
but even more,
my poetry
we ride the moon’s shirttails
till dawn
when we bless ourselves
and wade into the spring water,
well-fed and wet faced
& while the sky turns... - By Federico García LorcaVerde que te quiero verde.
Verde viento. Verdes ramas.
El barco sobre la mar
y el caballo en la montaña.
Con la sombra en la cintura,
ella sueña en su baranda
verde carne, pelo verde,
con ojos de fría plata.
Verde que te quiero verde.
Bajo la luna gitana,
las... - By Federico García LorcaTranslated By Sarah ArvioGreen I want you green
green wind green branches
Boat on the sea and
horse on the mountain
Shadow on her waist
she dreams at her railing
green flesh green hair
eyes of cold silver
Green I want you green
Under the gypsy moon
things are seeing her
but she can’t... - By Edward HirschTwelve years old and lovesick, bumbling
and terrified for the first time in my life,
but strangely hopeful, too, and stunned,
definitely stunned—I wanted to cry,
I almost started to sob when Chris Klein
actually touched me—oh God—below the belt
in the back row of the... - By Bruce SniderNo matter who leads tonight, who follows,
I feel his stare as we work the floor.
He swaggers from heel to toe.
Is it his smile?
Or his eyes I can’t ignore?
Even the lights wink, catching the pearled
buttons on his black paisley shirt.
The whole... - By Hart CraneI
Above the fresh ruffles of the surf
Bright striped urchins flay each other with sand.
They have contrived a conquest for shell shucks,
And their fingers crumble fragments of baked weed
Gaily digging and scattering.
And in answer to their treble interjections
The sun beats lightning... - By David WagonerUnder the sagging clotheslines of crepe paper
By the second string of teachers and wallflowers
In the school gym across the key through the glitter
Of mirrored light three-second rule forever
Suspended you danced with her the best slow dancer
Who stood on tiptoe who... - By Noor NagaThere are people to live for and people to die for I comfort myself: there are people to sleep with and people to wake with there are fifty thousand years...
- By Maggie MillnerI tried to stay away. Could not. I’d turn to J
or T and say: Today’s the day
it stops. Nothing right should feel
this dirty, nothing real
this quicksilver and fanged. I kept thinking
of that show My... - By Jan-Henry GrayIt's easy to
fall in love
with the
grocery store boys—
the one with the
tiny coffee cup
sweatshirt, too-tight
pants & cotton shoes or
the impossibly pale
fish boy who smiles
when he says, I'm
from Alaska. Your
heart swelled,
stupid &
dreaming
of a boat
in arctic
waters,
stars,
dots
that
dot the
ocean floor, you
will read
him poems & he
will... - By Edmund WallerGo, lovely rose!
Tell her that wastes her time and me,
That now she knows,
When I resemble her to thee,
How sweet and fair she seems to be.
Tell her that’s young,
And shuns to have her graces spied,
That hadst thou sprung
In deserts, where no... - By Duane NiatumThe twilight of your face,
the unknown bird in your voice,
drew me to your eyes’ green vision,
your song about a moment
that stood in the shadow
of a moon vulnerability,
a Natalie I saw standing alone,
at your friend Carolyn’s party
years ago, where you called
me... - By Tishani DoshiAt fourteen I wanted to devour you,
the twang, the strut, the perfect proletarian
butt in the black pants of you. I wanted a man
like you to sashay into town and teach me
how to be an aeroplane in water. I didn't want
to... - By Thylias MossThe Easter hats usually exploited gardens
and even when I took mine off, artificial bluebells
were braided into hair
just as they were (white lie)
when Deirdre's son dropped petals
into his mother's casket: one landed
as useless improvement of her mouth,
Years before, Deirdre and I... - By Claude McKayTo clasp you now and feel your head close-pressed,
Scented and warm against my beating breast;
To whisper soft and quivering your name,
And drink the passion burning in your frame;
To lie at full length, taut, with cheek to cheek,
And tease your mouth... - By Tim SeiblesIt seems insane now, but
she’d be standing soaked
in schoolday morning light,
her loose-leaf notebook,
flickering at the bus stop,
and we almost trembled
at the thought of her mouth
filled for a moment with both
of our short names. I don’t know
what we saw when we... - By John KeatsThou still unravish'd bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fring'd legend haunts about thy shape
Of deities or mortals, or of both,
In Tempe...- Related Audio
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- Memory & Nostalgia
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- + 25 more
- By Vincent KatzI am totally enamored of every person passing in this unseasonably warm mid-March evening near 39th and Park
The young women, of course, with their lives in front of them, and the young men too, just standing here as I am,...