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In her latest collection of experimental prose and poetry, Kim Hyesoon alchemizes the ills of South Korean society into koan-like effigies. The post ‘Fiction and Poetry’ appeared f...
There is a profound, almost sacred space that exists between a wandering thought and a blank page. For many of us, writing begins as a simple school exercise—a string of rhyming w...
the machine falters. intense, yet impotent. defined by manic fairy tales. the promise clenches. biting down on its own tongue. a parody of monsters searching for change in torn poc...
We can find healing powers in writing a poem about our present conflicts or conundrums. This requires no special writing skills. We simply open our mindful brain to our experience...
As the days get warmer and white carnations turn red, these micro-poems reflect the softness of summer. These poems, by both our writers and contributors, sketch this season, grain...
The poet is proud, and humbled by readers...
A sample of Poetry Postcards printed with my photos and words, to be left on the table at my monthly...
In the chest, and cheeks, it bubbles, rising – Hands clench, teeth grit, breath stills, it spills. The post Poem: Reflections on joy appeared first on The Oxford Student.
Works by Dr Samuel Johnson, Wendy Cope, and Robert Browning are read aloud in a series of poignant short films about grief
For Christian Wiman, ‘dead on the table’ more than once, suffering is no longer the only authentic thing The post A Life — and Afterlife — in Poetry appeared first on The Good Men...
Poetry addresses many of our most commonly experienced human challenges and has the power to foster resilience, hope, and healing.
SHIMÁ / My Mother, ayóó’ ánííníshní / I love you, a lot. Click to enlarge Crack, crack, crack. Click to enlarge The post The Bruised Apple Tumbles Far From the Tree appeared first...
Dear You, I am looking at you through a fog of harmattan on a December afternoon. The living room is a shadow of itself. Some corners are covered in Christmas decorations your mo...
Found it under her mattress. Wasn’t looking, just changing sheets. Pages of song lyrics. Then drawings. Then letters, written like she was already gone. I put it back. Exactly how...
the betrayal is always within. waiting to be discovered. cordial thieves gnaw on the bonesthe poison fluctuates between assassin and salvation. the curious arithmetic of exposed fl...
I died in Seville. The stone remembers. They buried me under the cathedral floor where gold from my father’s debt still sweats through the mortar. Four hundred years of damp. I c...
In his evocative and deeply personal collection “Poems,” Trinidadian poet Israfil Sahibdeen invites readers into a lyrical world shaped by cultural memory, spiritual reflection,...
Now, we have found ourselves falling into a silence only familiar with those accustomed to their new homes in graves. Only if the sun rises at a particular angle does the bed, ev...
Abhi (i) Why? Why didn’t you whisper goodbye into the hollow of my leaving, before sending me off like wind through an open door? Why? Why didn’t you leave me a sign— a flicker,...
I believed that, when it came to words, everything was allowed.
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