Pantoum: A Spell for Our Living
By Tatiana Johnson-BoriaIn which memory were you born?
Colossal: God of an ancestor’s grieving
What dreams were whispered into your skin?
I wake, in fear of what might die with you
Calling poets to a greater role in public life and fostering a national network of socially engaged poets.
By Tatiana Johnson-BoriaIn which memory were you born?
Colossal: God of an ancestor’s grieving
What dreams were whispered into your skin?
I wake, in fear of what might die with you
By jason b. crawfordand because this is a poem about joy, it too must have a river flowing
from its greedy jaws. i have only learned how to speak about joy
as an offering to a god i will never understand.
By Sharon BridgforthRemember.
You were wild
and you were free
and you felt unloved
and unseen
and you ran the streets
and you Loved hard
and you were Loved deeply
By Maya MarshallToday’s nothing fancy: my mother lives,
a simple pleasure. My cat made biscuits
on my knee. A woman I desire,
giggled with me, invited me to touch
a whale. I fell for a man I barely know,
his delicious disdain, his persistent smile,
flaking skin and mane.
By Rio CortezJust as close to living as you are to disappearing knowing
my limits you locate the tender spots without.
By Siaara FreemanWhen I say ancestors, let’s be clear:
I mean slaves. I’m talkin’ Tennessee
cotton & Louisiana suga. I mean grave dirt.
By Darrel Alejandro HolnesOnly beasts are supposed to hibernate.
But this brother has been lying there
for years. Truth isn’t a news headline.
By Justice Ameer/ he asks me how it feels /
it’s no simple curiosity
nor a question without consequence
phantom of longing lingers so
subtly on the last syllable
By Gabriel RamirezI gotta call my barber Eric to
let him know I’m pullin’ up. Yo hello?
Yea yea who this? ahhhh yo what up homie?
How you been kid?