By Leah Naomi Green
Take all summer,your ember from the sun,its walking meditation. Store it in smallvaults of light to ...
Explore Poems: Optimism
Showing 1-20 of 656 poems
- By Tilsa OttaUn club nocturno no hace un veranoMas creo en el perreoEterno recreoEn la agitación de la masa críticaInclin...
- By Tilsa OttaA nightclub doesn’t make a summerI believe more in perreoPlay everlastingIn the agitation of a critical...
- By Paul Laurence DunbarAs a quiet little seedling Lay within its darksome bed,To itself it fell a-talking, And this is what...
- By Thomas TraherneI saw new Worlds beneath the Water ly,New Peeple; yea, another SkyAnd Sun, which seen by DayMight things...
- By Joyce KilmerNow by what whim of wanton chanceDo radiant eyes know sombre days?And feet that shod in light should...
- By Rev. Robin G. WhiteThe feel of a much needed hug in a moment of sorrow An unexpected helping hand from the stranger The...
- By Tilsa Otta
Let’s try this:
If you’re dead, blink twice
I promise the second time will be incredible - By Tilsa Otta
Hagamos algo:
Si estás muerto parpadea 2 veces
Te prometo que la segunda vez será increíble - By Lynn EmanuelLove is boring and passé, all that old baggage, the bloody bric-a-brac, the bad, the gothic, retrograde...
- By Tomás Q. MorínIn this life, there are starsand there are stunt doubles.Before I became one of those fathersobsessed...
- By Margaret WalkerFor my people For my people In an interview for Callaloo literary journal, Walker remarked: “I remember hearing...
- By Lucia CherciuEven the grocery list is a love poem, a prayer— God, let me keep what I love. Peaches, cheap. Books,...
- By Frank ChipasulaDarkness chained me to my tattered reed mat; The head of tyranny sprinkled The soot of ignorance in ...
- By Laura SecordFor weeks we’ve seen some wild winds. Today, I find my hives knocked over. A season’s honey smeared ...
- By Lêdo IvoThis morning I salute the weevil, who ruins the most precious grain. I reserve my compliments for the...
- By Jacqueline Allen TrimbleBlack woman joy is like this: Mama said one day long before I was born she was walking down the street...
- By Beth Ann FennellyWe thought the birds were singing louder. We were almost certain they were. We spoke of this, when we...
