By Xiwa
Translated By Wang Ping
We believe in our soul
More so than our visible, touchable flesh
We believe in our soul, as if we had …
More so than our visible, touchable flesh
We believe in our soul, as if we had …
Explore Poems: The Body
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- By Liang Ping裸露是很美好的词，
不能亵渎。只有心不藏污，
才能至死不渝地坦荡。
我喜欢石头，包括它的裂缝，
那些不流血的伤口。
石头无论在陆地还是海洋，
无论被抬举还是被抛弃，
都在用身体抵抗强加给它的表情，
即使伤痕累累。
我的… - By Xiwa我们如此确信自己的灵魂
比我们看得见，摸得着的肉体
更为确信，仿佛我们真的见过她
亲手抚摸过她，弯下身来为她洗过脚
在夜间闻过她腋窝里的汗味
在清晨听过她的哈欠声与唇语
我们如此确信我们的灵魂
确信她比我们的肉体更… - By Yvanna Vien TicaThe cafe buzzes with so many voices it plugs my ears with the artillery of human noise. Man Behind Me…
- By Liang PingTranslated By Wang PingNaked is a good word
That must not be desecrated.
The heart doesn’t hide dirt,
So it can beat free till… - By Jim CoryTheir appeal all
feeling what the mouth
alone manages among
tongue teeth & lung Breath moist & slow
measured… - By Jesse NathanGoing to the Russian bathhouse on Innes
to lie naked on a shelf in the steam
while the hatted man
swanning… - By Mona ArshiWhen I was thirteen and dumb as bark and
married to a king and looked into mirrors
my mouth unwatchable… - By Nakahara ChūyaTranslated By Jeffrey AnglesLook, look! This is my bone
Torn free of that filthy flesh
Filled with the sufferings of life
A bone washed… - By Rochelle Hurt[all my exes agree i’m too sensitive. inside i’m keeping track of slights on one long receipt, a diaristic…
- By Rochelle Hurt[as jumping from a plane. easier—a bridge. as tripping on a shoelace. as blinking your eyes. as breathing…
- By Nakahara Chūyaホラホラ、これが僕の骨だ、
生きてゐた時の苦労にみちた
あのけがらはしい肉を破つて、
しらじらと雨に洗はれ、
ヌツクと出た、骨の尖。
それは光沢もない、
ただいたづらにしらじらと、
雨を吸収する、
… - By Lauren RussellHammock dumping
you onto bruised
grasses, frayed
thoughts droop
sideways, hammering
morning. Slipper-
footed… - By Omotara JamesWhen Sarah Vaughan pipes from the great American songbook,
I forget time is dragging my body from one… - By John MulcareWe inhaled slag wool in the throat
of a Tennessee summer, installing cheap
can lights, like capping off… - By Ross WhiteI’m not the first man to lose his father
slowly, not the first to wonder
when I walk in the room if the… - By Paisley RekdalYou’d never call the branches
arms, though in certain
lights don’t pine and man
look like hands
conjoined… - By Joshua BennettFor the sake of argument, let’s say
the day my father outlawed all contact
between backhand and face, … - By Stefania GomezFiremen cut the car open like a cake but when
they reached through the windshield to pull me out
they … - By Paura Rodríguez LeytónTranslated By Janet McAdamsJuntos vamos limpiándonos el polvo.
Juntos lamiendo la oscuridad,
remachando el silencio
con augurios cotidianos…