By Karl Knights
You left a note.
‘Please don’t judge me
too harshly.’ I read it
at your memorial.
I hate that my voice
didn…
‘Please don’t judge me
too harshly.’ I read it
at your memorial.
I hate that my voice
didn…
Explore Poems: Sorrow & Grieving
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- 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 Lev RubinsteinTranslated By 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 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 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... - By Patricia GuzmanBrother, this morning was full of movement, sun flooding
the windows and dew on every green thing. The clouds
slow motion behind the screen of leaves. I wish you
could see the treetops starting to turn into flames.
I wish you could see the... - By K. IverAt my beloved’s burial,
I can’t see his body.
Only carnations. I hear
your name and my beloved’s
in the … - By Elane KimIt’s New Year’s.
It’s New Year’s & the stars are white-hot & all your favorite dishes
are flushed warm on the island: tteokguk for fortune, knife-cut noodles
for longevity, persimmon pudding & a tin can of sardines.
The nectarines are in season in our... - By Walela NehandaCrip (noun): slang for a disabled person/the whole of
the disabled community/
a school of thought
Example: “I’m on crip time”
Meaning: Time bends differently when the universe that is
my body dictates it
Crip (noun): a Black gang that originated in... - By Kate Aschethe sac
itself wasclear
and I cleaned itlike a window
and in the windowsaw my baby
our baby[birdlike
mouth opennasalarea still
oversizedlike a beak]eye’s aperture blue-black
head thrownbackand twisted beginning
to separateneck brok
en in the contractions’violencetwo arms
two legstailbone translucent... [whatcolor is
the baby?]silent heart [sac contains“chorionic cavity”]
with utmost tendernessI... - By Kush ThompsonYou will tell your babies, someday,
of the little house behind the wall clock.
They will love most the part about the window
sloped inside a six’s hollow, silhouettes
of Sundays, shadows having dinner.
How they walk along the edges of hands
at night, skipping pebbles... - By Kush Thompsonmy doctor named this weeping.
a month of quartered lemon slices sucked from skin.
a month of ibuprofen in a deathless wound.
red raspberry leaves ground in green capsule,
slosh in jars of diluted vinegar.
so many tricks to braid the blood. clouds
of swaddled ply...