By Sunnylyn Thibodeaux
The morning air holds
the rumble of cleaners
Ravens strut through shadows
collecting spilled debris…
the rumble of cleaners
Ravens strut through shadows
collecting spilled debris…
Explore Poems: Optimism
Showing 1-20 of 695 poems
- By Darrel Alejandro HolnesBeloved,
we have lost the gardenias
that once trembled
on your collarbone
like soft refusals.
we have… - By Aishvarya Arorabirdsong isn’t trying to be
an orchestra a murmuration isn’t
trying to be a spray
of fighter jets… - By Charles BernsteinSouth of Naples
North of desire
I lost my way
In the middle of a choir
Blinds of clay
Splints of wire… - By Andy ChenOn my sixth day of Covid I venture
with tea, a notebook, and the last of the peaches
out back to our… - By Angela JacksonThis question has a sting inside
Like a wasp’s:
Who is beautiful
And who is not?
The Conquerors leave their… - By Cornelius EadyYou have to imagine it:
Who said you were too dark/too
Large? Too queer/too loud?
Who said you were too… - By Terrance HayesHandcuffed in daylight walking through air
today the subject imagined a near future
where other subjects… - By Khadijah QueenAfter my limbs retreat into their sockets
again, my spine slips its discs
back into pain’s fist until… - By Shara Lessleyice in the grass of want:
queen of leaf-
rot, I’ve let go— - By E. Ethelbert MillerDear America, my love.
If my blackness turns to fruit
do not pull it from the vine;
let it grow from… - By Gabrielle CalvocoressiNot an optimist. I lie awake at night and say the name
of everyone on the block and for three blocks … - By Linda HoganSleep with your face visible so the young will remember you are with them.
You want the others to see… - By Patrick RosalHere, my one raucous prayer
coaxed from this poor drum,
my double heart, under a beat-up slat
of divine… - By Ann-Margaret LimEvery day is perfect, if
when you wake, you hear birds
in the garden, in the yard. Birds
up and down, ushering… - By Rowan Wilde RiggsA ball of yarn is attempting to unravel my wits.
It rolls over vistas that trample our view of each … - By Rowan Wilde Riggsconstellations of dimwitted substrate
twinkle like formless apparitions.
i keep walking forward
so your… - By Oak MorseGot to gala glaze lavender my pansy hoist my symphony
little gal Fauntleroy in ultra dire
cootie yuntra… - By Magda PortalTranslated By Kathleen WeaverI'm a sea since I could never have been a river
An unchanneled sea
of green merriments
and solitary depths…