My Mother’s Pillow by Cecilia Woloch : American Life in Poetry. American Life in Poetry: Column 328 BY TED KOOSER, U.S. POET LAUREATE I don’t often mention literary forms, but of this lovely poem by Cecilia Woloch I want to suggest that the form, a villanelle, which uses a pattern of repetition, adds to the [...]
I knew William when he was a child and now here he is writing brilliant poetry: A poem by William Ryan Hilary on Friday, 08 July 2011 at 13:05 Author’s Note The composition of a poem Is no longer an event. Everyone writes, but alone. No one touches the other Inspires sibilance, like [...]
I have just found the Poetry Foundation and I’ve subscribed to receive their biweekly newsletter. Can’t wait to get some new poetry winging its way to me. They can also be found on Facebook so have a look for them. They say they are one of the biggest literary foundations – which is probably why [...]
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that never blooms, but carries in itself the light [...]
Bad days require patient friends by Shane Koyczan on Friday, 03 June 2011 at 17:09 Bad Day Girl you said “i need a friend not someone who’s going to try to fuck me because I’m sad” so I bought you a soda pop and asked if you wanted to check out some funny [...]
Vertigo BY ANNE STEVENSON Mind led body to the edge of the precipice. They stared in desire at the naked abyss. If you love me, said mind, take that step into silence. If you love me, said body, turn and exist. Anne Stevenson, “Vertigo” from Poems 1955-2005. Copyright © 2005 by Anne Stevenson. Reprinted with the permission [...]
wake up, love wake up, love undress yourself from my skin put on the sun and let our dreaming rest come watch the world rise wake up, love and be unbalance on the edge with me of our sagging, remembering bed come slip on your shoes wake up, love and help me sort this tangle [...]
IF Rudyard Kipling written in 1910 for his 12 year-old son John If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be [...]
I know you little, I love you lots Shel Silverstein I know you little, I love you lots, my love for you could fill ten pots, fifteen buckets, sixteen cans, three teacups, and four dishpans.
I love the idea of making a poem out of another book or found words. Here is a poem from Altered Books called Silent Storm You can check out more altered books here
