Poem of The Day

poetry-magazineBirdsong of Shaker Way

By Ann-Margaret Lim
Every day is perfect, if
when you wake, you hear birds
in the garden, in the yard. Birds

up and down, ushering in one more day
in all the houses on Shaker Way. Birds
on telephone lines, light posts. Birds

twit, twittering on trees
hailing fellow birds
with a nod of  beak—gray kingbird;

top-hatted, streamertail
tuxedoed, doctor bird—
busy-bodied…
Poem of The Day

poetry-magazine

Two Evening Moons

By Federico García Lorca
            I

For Laurita, my sister’s friend

The moon is dead dead
— it will come back to life in the spring...
Poem of The Day
By Rosebud Ben-Oni
Matarose never comes home
She’s hungry like a wolf
She’s rosa de mota in lacroix
all the girls hail on queens boulevard
All the views she’s killed
in the name of iman
& yasmin le bon
Mata’s quite meta
Mata means kill
Rose a curve
from the real meat of...

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An occasional verse form, usually in celebration of a wedding.

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From the Poetry Magazine Archive

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    By Destiny O. Birdsong
    the women, small and neat,
    top each other like
    slices of wonder bread.

    when she and i
    finally meet,
    we knead each other—

    fresh dough—
    adjusting our
    rehearsed finger-tread.

    outside, magnolias
    cup their sepals
    like good hands.

    inside, we spade
    like leaves: tenderly,
    and only at each other’s bidding.

    when my sister
    stopped speaking to me,
    what...
  • Poem

    poetry-magazine

    Love Poem: Cavafy

    By Timothy Liu
    Coming back
    from the ski trip
    in the back of a van,

    it had gotten dark

    enough for
    the steady hum
    of the engine

    to lull us all

    into a deep sleep—
    my best friend
    and I having

    the backseat

    all to ourselves.
    Have you ever felt
    your body starting

    to lean toward

    its truest
    intentions—head
    hoping hard

    for...
  • Poem
    By Bruce Snider
    She lip-syncs “Hello God,” then “9 to 5.”
    She struts. Or does she fly? Like the soul,
    a rhinestone, she tells us, will never die.
    She’s a blush-pink Bible. Patched together,
    she’s a cosmic doll. Mirror of a mirror,
    she winks, her face the only...

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