Tomato poem by Maia Nichols into some swamp land dream scape I trudged with a small wooden paddle and some grape juice for the morning, not looking back or harnessing any of the uncertainty that was collecting dust in my den back home, naïve yet with a slightly sour aftertaste, like the grapes growing on
TagPoetry
“Herd” poem by Kate Radford
Herd poem by Kate Radford I have taken shelter from my kind among slow trees in the glen. Shaded from white cloud-light by waxy leaves – some spined, some smooth – layered in shades of green whittling the weak light to bright points of white. Underneath here is wind and the second-hand rain (a morning’s
“forced feels” poem by Emma Wilson
forced feels poem by Emma Wilson peelings on the table must be brushed off with a quick hand and collected by the other. roughness of orange remnants must be scrubbed with equal roughness. calluses scrape the surface, fingernails knead dirt in the kitchen and the garden. * other fingers need my skin to trace the
“What is Possible” poem by Michael Warne
What is Possible poem by Michael Warne Close fall bark. Walking through the woods, I can’t help but wonder: do I make this much sound in the city? Door closing, keys falling, barking. I’m only now noticing the way couch potatoes grow eyes and roots, and how bookworms never crawl.
“The Things Our Mouths Know” poem by Jessica Vugteveen
The Things Our Mouths Know poem by Jessica Vugteveen Samson met Delilah at a party, drunk on wine, after he’d pulled down a temple full of Philistines. He knew her name before he’d asked, another talent from the Lord, and the name opened like a flower on his tongue, De…lie…lah, the petals curling in his
“Oysters” poem by Tara Simonetta
Oysters poem by Tara Simonetta Slimy Slippery Sliding off the half shell into my uncle’s mouth “Tastes like watermelon,” he says As he throws the shell back onto the beach. Scrape Crash Oysters fall into the bucket Barnacles bursting Calcium grinding A knife through the shell “do you want the muscle?” Salty Watermelon of the
“Phylum Chordata” poem by Michael Prior
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“On Fishing” poem by Stephanie Airth
On Fishing poem by Stephanie Airth The trout is a sliver of silver birch bark With gills like beet-stained paper snowflakes And a heart black as cherry jelly. It lays congealed on the gutting table; One solar eclipse eye wilts as it stares Up at heaven and sees . nothing. It knows It is the
“The Contours of Nature” poem by Alex Winstanley
The Contours of Nature poem by Alex Winstanley Adam named the contours of nature to chisel a line between night and day, snake and lion. He walked naked in the midday sun, letting language linger in the sway of the light like a dryad clothed in the translucent tears of the willow. He let the
“Later Days” poem by Katie Coopersmith
Later Days poem by Katie Coopersmith Valencia oranges had gotten crushed in my bag and soaked all the lace doilies, so Jake and I had coffee instead of high tea. It was an awkward forty-seven minutes. He began by clearing his throat, considering me with a few angular, darting glances, and commenting that he’d never
“Love, Ophelia” – poem by Chelsea Pratt
Love, Ophelia poem by Chelsea Pratt Pearls mark poison. The way you shimmer, I should’ve known. The crown jewel’s love-slicked lips sucked drought dry. Did I know then I nursed madness and would I drink again? Earth’s parched cradle for a moment, wrapped around the world. No choice here, not when all narrows to you,
“Praise” – poem by Luke Fraser
Praise poem by Luke Fraser The candle’s flame licks the thin cracks around the Buddha’s face. On his cheek the light shines through his gouged palm where the bullet left its wound. While the logs of his sanctuary crumble and the bamboo shoots reclaim his holy land, he sits. Waits. Prays. Behind the stone eye-lids
“Ground Breaking” – poem by Stephen Morgan
Ground Breaking poem by Stephen Morgan Scroll through the poem with the arrow buttons Ground Breaking View more presentations from thegardenstatuary.
“Reflections of Venize: Frari” – poem by Murissa Shalapata
Reflections of Venize: Frari poem by Murissa Shalapata With crimson Bardolino in hand I taste you, Venize your mind numbing routes of destiny like untangling knots of angelhairs in a hurry by the hour glass of spices that smell of sulfur, basilico, lemon and grass I paid little attention to your streets of uneven marble
“Grief Pond” – poem by Maddie Gorman
Grief Pond poem by Maddie Gorman You watch the stone drop into the middle of a pond. There it is: the origin— the node from which all subsequent ripples birth. At the same time you feel the wind whistle through a hole in your heart. It aches like a sensitive tooth. The seasons pile on.