Featured Poem 11/4 – “The Darkling Thrush”
The Darkling Thrush by Thomas Hardy I leant upon a coppice gate When Frost was spectre-grey, And Winter’s dregs made desolate The weakening eye of day. The tangled bine-stems scored the sky Like...
Tagged: poetry
Featured Poem 10/28 – “Identity Crisis”
Identity Crisis by F. D. Reeve He was urged to prepare for success: “You never can tell, he was told over and over; “others have made it; one dare not presume to predict....
Featured Poem 10/21 – “If”
If by Rudyard Kipling 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...
Featured Poem 10/14 – “Fishing in Winter”
Fishing in Winter by Ralph Burns A man staring at a small lake sees His father cast light line out over The willows. He’s forgotten his Father has been dead for two years...
Featured Poem 10/7 – “Sonogram”
Sonogram by Jennifer Chang Dark matter, are you sparkless for lack of knowing better? The room you’ve spun is distant and indivisible— a flickering lapsarian, you satisfy no mute progress but collapse, spiral,...
Poetic Forms: Compendium
As I stated last week, I’m going to be taking a break from writing these, but before I go, I wanted to link them all in one post so you can bookmark this page...
Featured Poem 9/30 – “Geese”
Geese by Michael Shorb Just north of Valley Falls rust mustard hue of fading autumn chills the marsh last storm of Canadian geese stuns the flyway imprinted engines of feathers and cries. I wonder...
What Else You Should Be Reading: Words Without Borders
Let’s get real. How many of you can name a contemporary author who writes in a language other than English? A poet? A journalist? Words Without Borders is a publication driven by the idea...
Poetic Forms: Double Dactyl
Hello Everyone! Welcome to week ten of poetic forms! This is also going to be the last week for now so instead of having until Sunday to submit your poem, you have until the...
Featured Poem 9/23 – “Autumn Movement”
Autumn Movement by Carl Sandburg I cried over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts. The field of cornflower yellow is a scarf at the neck of the copper sunburned woman, the mother...
