By Omar Musa
Time’s allegro.
Sulu Sea skitters in
like fire, fern-green rolling boil,
phytoplankton gobbling red & blue…
Sulu Sea skitters in
like fire, fern-green rolling boil,
phytoplankton gobbling red & blue…
Explore Poems: Time & Brevity
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- By Michael Bazzettof time, of course, sliced inwardly;
no matter how brief the moment,
halve it again, and the endlessness… - By Lesyk PanasiukTranslated By Katie Farris & Ilya KaminskyPretend you are a potato
& hide in a sack
peek at the earth through a hole
while they are carrying you
from the garden to the cellar... - By Lesyk PanasiukTranslated By Katie Farris & Ilya KaminskyOld bicycles stubbornly pull sticks into their wheels,
pull everything into their mouths
like infants… - By Bianca StoneThere’s always a snowstorm coming
and I’m always booked at a café
on the other side of the mountain… - By Bianca StoneWhat can you really do in it?
Condense the metaphor further?
Glimpse God beyond the atom?
It isn’t a question… - By Stanley MossA single word firstlast deserves to be
a word in life’s dictionary. Remember,
the firstlast. He’s first… - By Sara ElkamelI am pleased I will soon die and with me the pressing need to make a terrible, terribly poignant film…
- By Omar MusaI pestle sea rice
on the shore, mix with
shipwreck’s pitch. Black damper, sun-baked.
This fickle… - By Lesyk Panasiuki
Вдавати що ти картопля
ховатися в мішок
дивитися на світ крізь дірочку
доки тебе несуть із город… - By Lesyk PanasiukСтарі велосипеди вперто приносять
палки в колесах своїм господарям
досі тягнуть усе до рота
як малюки щ… - By Elisa GabbertLook at a painting of sky. Look
a long time and notice one thing.
How someone’s wet eye stares back
like… - By Lindsay TurnerMonday and it starts out mobile
Monday you can picture “health”
the picture is a stucco villa
shining… - By Myles C. Poydrasan arrangement
of trained plucks
& then a full-palmed flood
of contented ones opens
into a siren that… - By Myles C. Poydrasi touched my feet in pattern
to a sound and steady floor,
creating more of myself
in suspended leaps… - By Tishani DoshiLike most people, I have not known
what to do with the stones handed
to me. I fold newspapers into … - By Victoria ChangTwo swans turn into four swans. As if each swan yearned for time but time just multiplied into other…
- By Nay ThitBefore I was born, my mother says, there was another boy. My brother. One day, half-asleep during lunch…
- By Nay ThitWhen the dreamer dies, the dream begins searching for someone else—someone who might take it in and…
- By Anna JourneyIt came with the East Hollywood rental place: that novelty
polypropylene doormat screen-printed
in…