The Summer Garden

September 25, 2018

Here, on a very warm night
with a honeysuckle, jasmine breeze
heady, rich and almost liquid
You can stand on the sun-filled stones
stretch and hold
the heart-breaking sweetness
of the night.

Maggie Emmett,


September 23, 2018

My whole self offered up.
Like a sacrifice on an ancient stone altar.
The oldest and most pure ritual in the world,
of one human soul putting itself completely in the hands of another.
You take me as I am.
As I was.
As I will be.
You have made me yours and I will stop at nothing to bring you peace, happiness, contentment…
anything you ever desire.
This is my purpose.
The answer to all of my whys.
The quiet place that was always…

Christine Rogers Odell

Vulnerability Study

September 23, 2018

your face turning from mine
to keep from cumming

8 strawberries in a wet blue bowl

baba holding his pants
up at the checkpoint

a newlywed securing her updo
with grenade pins

a wall cleared of nails
for the ghosts to walk through

Solmaz Sharif


September 22, 2018

I love the past tense, but you can’t live there.
I love the stories you believe add up to you,
Though they never do. I love the way
The rhythms and the tenses and the words
Add up to nothing, or to a diversion, or to this:
I know this place, and even think it’s true
(If places can be true), but what does it say?
That if I wake I’ll wake up into it, and then go on?
Or is it just a state of mind, a place to linger in
Or stay, whose seeming is the whole of its reality?
I was born to indecision: I follow thoughts
Wherever they lead, and dreams until it’s clear
They won’t come true. I live in my imagination
Most of the time, biding what’s left of my time
And waiting for no one in particular to come —
Waiting for an ending endlessly deferred,
When you (the reader of my life) and I are one.

John Koethe

Autobiographia Literaria

September 20, 2018

When I was a child
I played by myself in a
corner of the schoolyard
all alone.
I hated dolls and I
hated games, animals were
not friendly and birds
flew away.
If anyone was looking
for me I hid behind a
tree and cried out “I am
an orphan.”
And here I am, the
center of all beauty!
writing these poems!

Frank O’Hara

Your darkness is a symphony

September 16, 2018

Your darkness is a symphony
Played in explosions of silence to a crowd that has fallen in love with noise
If they refuse to applaud you
It isn’t because your music isn’t beautiful
It is because they have no idea how to love what they don’t understand
And that, my darling, is the most horrific flaw in this mixed up world

Christopher Poindexter

Smart girl

September 13, 2018


September 9, 2018

I will bruise your lips,
and scar your knees
and love you too hard.
I will destroy you
in the most beautiful way possible.
And when I leave,
you will finally understand,
why storms are named after people.


Night on the Island

September 8, 2018

I have slept with you
All night long while
The dark earth spins
With the living and the dead,
And on waking suddenly
In the midst of the shadow
My arm encircled your waist.
Neither night nor sleep
Could separate us.

I have slept with you
And on waking, your mouth,
Come from your dream,
Gave me the taste of earth,
Of sea water, of seaweed,
Of the depths of your life,
And I received your kiss
Moistened by the dawn
As if it came to me
From the sea that surrounds us.

Pablo Neruda


September 6, 2018

I don’t just want
your heart
I want your flesh,
your skin
and blood and bones,
your voice, your thoughts
your pulse
and most of all your

Isobel Thrilling