By Zoey Yazzie
Door :[frames]: bolted by seams of
desert fleece and beaming blindfolds
dry-steamed by the musk …
desert fleece and beaming blindfolds
dry-steamed by the musk …
Explore Poems: Language & Linguistics
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- By avery r. young
- By Margarita EngleTaíno in our blood
and on our tongues
stirs, yawns, rises,
no longer lost.
We ignore old historians
who tell… - By avery r. younga•ver•y (ā ver'ē), n. dark(iss) ¹blk-male chile foundate(id) in luv unlimit(id) fuc(k) anthem(s). ²jee…
- By Zoë Skouldingwhat travessia/trip/travesia/trajet
traverses
the wreck/naufragio/
naufragio/naufrage
of… - By Lydia Harris1
Sunday vellum tongues with words of prayer
Monday messages from the unknown
Tuesday how to… - By Aram Saroyanly ly
ly ly - By Aram Saroyanall all
all all - By Patricia SmithDear ferocious dreamer. Dear maven of song and surveyor of every flung star. Dear meandering romantic, audacious witness, dear listener with the whole of your covetous heart. Dear listener to the air’s brutal and gorgeous music, soft dancer to ballads...
- Translated By Daniel OwenIt’s a shame this poem’s already been erased when
I go to read it. Like humid air that tugs
at my arm to catch what will fall, is
falling, and falls. What’s up with erasing? Glue,
scissors, and yarn make a shadow of barbed
wire.... - By Marwa Helalsay i ‘well
particular in one no to
backed ive time first the isnt this
disaster a of out us - By H.D.He and I sought together,
over the spattered table,
rhymes and flowers,
gifts for a name.
He said, among others,
I will bring
(and the phrase was just and good,
but not as good as mine,)
"the narcissus that loves the rain."
We strove for a name,
while the light of... - By Salima RiveraWords, like weeds,
are sprouting everywhere.
My mouth and throat are choked with them,
wild fairy rings waiting to be gathered and dried.
I pick through them and press them between
sheets of cheap paper,
stuff them into envelopes
and mail them out
to anyone who’ll have them.
I’m... - By Lyn HejinianThe spoons have clattered
Aren’t children little pears and observant birds
I note that the green blanket is askew again briefly
I have flung my sweater over the banister again
The corn cockle is beautiful
For months I’ve owed someone I’ll call Amy Rossini a... - By Pablo TexónTranslated By Will HowardIn my language
we distinguish
sueñu from suañu.
The first tethers us to the ground,
stuffs stones in our pockets
so we don’t get soaked
by heavy clouds.
The second leads us
to summit
impossible peaks
skipping with joy.
There is a moment
when the day, gentle, wanes,
in which suañu takes
sueñu by... - By Pablo TexónNa mio llingua
estremamos
el sueñu del suañu.
El primeru átanos al suelu,
ponnos piedres nos bolsos
pa que nun nos mueyen
les nubes cargaes.
El segundu llévanos a
trescombar
los cumales inalcanzables
con reblagos alegres.
Hai un momento,
cuando’l día, mansu, declina,
en que’l suañu garra
de la mano
al sueñu
y nesi eclipse d’estraña
guapura... - By Noor ('Ditee) Jaberhow the blood it fit into the body? how the body it fit
into the family, and how the grandmother she fit
into the blood? how grandmother of me she fit into
tongue of her? how gender of her it fit into
mouth of... - By Raymond LuczakYour voice translated me,
a lucid memory.
You videotaped my hands, words.
Now that’s all gone to the birds.
What led you to sign, to grasp?
Your fluency made me gasp.
You turned deaf to others sneering.
Your ears were so used to hearing.
Translate me one more... - By Michelle Peñalozaanak like a sigh born every day
ilong lead by scent and know-how
tanong asking questions about the world
sayaw like how dance that comes from joy
sayang can sway so close to sorrow
bayan how shame could be an entire country
pinto or an open-doored question
kailangan needing, needful, and needless
ilaw illuminating a path
ikaw to you,...