By M. NourbeSe Philip
evidence is
sustenance
is
support
is
the law...
sustenance
is
support
is
the law...
Explore Poems: Sorrow & Grieving
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- By Khari Dawsonmom tells me I smell like
her Mom—
something flowery and
the blackened endings
of a joint.
I feared her … - By Rasaq Malik Gbolahanuntil the clock of my grandmother’s body
stopped working & her remains
were lowered into the earth on… - By Karl KnightsYou left a note.
‘Please don’t judge me
too harshly.’ I read it
at your memorial.
I hate that my voice
didn… - It leaves a mark on me when I fall
in my father's kitchen.
Only a few days it's been
of lifting him up … - By Andrew FrisardiPRIMEAt dawn, the shapes of cypresses in fog
Were fingers pointing up from graves, as if what's born… - By Felicia Dorothea HemansSee’st thou yon gray gleaming hall,
Where the deep elm-shadows fall?
Voices that have left the earth
… - By Kemi AlabiI used to pray to a man-faced god.
Kept his whip beneath my bed.
Set alarms for daybreak lashings.
Pressed white cotton to the flay.
Made flags of the bloodsoak.
Raised them from my window.
Called this worship.
Dreamt heaven a jury small as a county
where nobody... - By Norman DubieIf only it were just a lousy herb
That issued feeble tendrils slowly, now and then
Relinquishing some … - By Lev RubinsteinTranslated By Tatiana Tulchinsky & Philip Metres1
Now here I am! 2
So… 3
So here I am… 4
(Where have you been?
We’d given up all hope…) 5
So… 6
So … - By Sholeh WolpéTall, stiff and spiny.
Try to make it to the other side
and risk savage thorns.
We who left home in our… - By Jericho BrownAster. Nasturtium. Delphinium. We thought
Fingers in dirt meant it was our dirt, learning
Names in heat… - By Cameron Awkward-RichI wake up & it breaks my heart. I draw the blinds & the thrill of rain breaks my heart. I go outside…
- By Saeed JonesYour grief is so heavy,
when we lowered the coffin,
all the pallbearers fell in too.
Your grief is so heavy… - By Karisma PriceThe Realization of a Negro's Ambition requires melatonin & the soft dying body of a monkey face orchid.
The brilliant strangeness of watching everyone not you grow comfortable with themselves.
Trying to rehabilitate one or multiple racists.
Learning death does not fear you.
I... - By Corey Van Landinghamwas, according to Virgil, always a fickle, unstable thing. Woman. Wyf. Merger of wife and man. To indicate: not-girl. Not-yet-claimed, not-yet weeping. And aren’t they often weeping? The mother, tearing her hair out, running toward the battle lines, filling heaven...
- By Camonghne FelixWhat else could I say except I agree with you really am bulldozed
with grief
my strength a whistle in… - By Tilsa OttaUna estrella cayó al suelo y rebotó en la sombra del sol
Evoco esta escena cuando me asaltan temores … - By Tilsa OttaTranslated By Farid MatukA star fell to the ground and bounced in the shadow of the sun
I think of this scene when I’m taken by… - By Dunya MikhailToday four little robins
left the nest and flew away.
I turn time to a month ago
and see their nest growing
over my home’s lamp
stick by stick
beat by beat
song by song.
I turn to yesterday
and see their sunlit wings
lifting from the nest
leaving shadows with...