By Rickey Laurentiis
What I have done is created
History, exquisite manuscripts
With angering blame.
What I have done is…
History, exquisite manuscripts
With angering blame.
What I have done is…
Explore Poems: Blame
Showing 1-20 of 1,375 poems
- By Shara McCallumPain enters through an open window
and you say it is the wind.
It marrows into beams, gutters
walls. Still… - By Malcolm TariqYou may find her behind
Rowan Oak, a shadow
of fortress where then now
you find no real entry place. - By Chaelee DaltonConsider the market. Consider the gross domestic product of Korea. Call it Kimchi.
Ferment culture in… - By Zach CzaiaI'm sorry it wasn't till the end of the year
that I asked you to write about yourselves. You filled pages… - By D. H. LawrenceThe Last Lesson
When will the bell ring, and end this weariness?
How long have they tugged the leash… - By Sarah CarsonThe last man here wanted
what could not be taken: My girl, he'd say,
my baby. The narrow of his eyes… - By Anastasia Taylor-Lindv.
Isn’t it dangerous to be a woman? Surrounded by men, questions
about risk-taking, parenting (I’m childless… - By Maggie Queeneylaurel tree, limbs bent and twined into crown heifer bank of marsh reeds,
handful lashed into pipes, … - By Randall MannFirst I want to thank you all for coming,
for standing so patiently in line.
I know these are difficult… - By SapphoTranslated By Anne Carson]frequently ]for those I treat well are the ones who most of all ]…
- By Saeed JonesThe end of the world was mistaken
for just another midday massacre
in America. Brain matter and broken… - By Anne CarsonIf I were an early person
I'd look for the limits of human wisdom
by going to sacred oak trees
or the local… - By Camonghne FelixWhat else could I say except I agree with you really am bulldozed
with grief
my strength a whistle in… - By Mike DoughtyHe was jailed for cruelty to insects, and his agent wasn’t answering the phone, so he stayed awake in the cell all night, pictures jumping around his head of the cops and the blowdryer they took as evidence. He used...
- By Toi DerricotteTo be born woman is to know—...
- By Georg TraklAt evening autumn forests drone
With deadly weapons, the golden plains
And the blue lakes, above which somberly
The sun rolls down. The night
Embraces dying warriors, the wild laments
Of their shattered mouths.
But in the willow valley silently
The outspilled blood collects, red clouds
In which... - By DaMaris B. HillEvery wife must apologize for not being her husband’s
mother? But he will not forgive you. The absence
of his mother's kiss is the scar of repeated
wounding. He marries you too young, before
he littered his seeds along the road. This is why
he... - By Shanta LeeMama birthed me, Papa sold me in the land of weeping willows
Traces of sin trail miles across skin, I go by Never Forget
My body’s evidence of daddy’s pestilence spread across the land
His sin traces my skin, a path never forgotten
Nameless,... - By Gwendolyn BrooksJohn Cabot, out of Wilma, once a Wycliffe,
all whitebluerose below his golden hair,
wrapped richly in right linen and right wool,
almost forgot his Jaguar and Lake Bluff;
almost forgot Grandtully (which is The
Best Thing That Ever Happened To Scotch); almost
forgot the sculpture...