By Li Bai
Translated By Keith Holyoak
Back when my hair barely covered my forehead
I was picking flowers in front of the gate.
You rode over…
I was picking flowers in front of the gate.
You rode over…
Explore Poems: Youth
Showing 1-20 of 400 poems
- By Mitchell GlazierStiletto melon collies, a tinsel mystic streaks our homeplace.
Lantern flies triple from the sleeping… - By Heidi WilliamsonYou’re fifteen and nowhere in a town on the edge of pitiful lands stripped of fruit. The burger van’…
- By Kate PartridgeThe dentist is now the same
age as me, which is troubling,
mostly because of what I
have and have not done… - By Joshua BennettFor the sake of argument, let’s say
the day my father outlawed all contact
between backhand and face, … - By ire’ne lara silvathey announce us Valentina Covarrubias montada en Viento
my girl does not cower does not wave or smile… - By Yi LiI love cherries.
The fruit, juice, jam,
blossoms, prints on a summer
dress, in a black forest cake… - By Sarah CarsonThe first gun we knew came in a toolbox for the apocalypse: hammer, barrel, crushed can, pack of Newports…
- By Anastasia Taylor-Lindv.
Isn’t it dangerous to be a woman? Surrounded by men, questions
about risk-taking, parenting (I’m childless… - By Anya JohnsonAfter the storm, Zach and the girls sprawled on the dock,
legs disappeared in the lake. They were arguing… - By Abriella Guertintwin plaits down my freckled back shining in suburban sunlight. my mother’s hands made…
- By Tamsin MooreLong, empty roads stretching as long as the gas tank is willing—
Sixty-seven dollars left from last … - By Phil Kayeand yes it does beg
the question why
a nine-year-old needs
two twenty-dollar bills still
sticky and … - By Carole Boston WeatherfordGazing at the sky, all cloud-strewn
A child wonders, Where’s my moon?
Child cries a river like a monsoon… - By Damien McClendonsuppose you’re eight
a crow drowns in the dishwater
black plum
-age all over the place.
your mother… - By Karl KnightsIt’s Boxing Day and I’m nearly ten and a half.
I got the camouflaged Action Man for Christmas.
I told … - By Louise ErdrichAugust and the drive-in picture is packed.
We lounge on the hood of the Pontiac
surrounded by the slow… - By Robert HaydenAt Dunbar, Castle or Arcade
we rode with the exotic sheik
through deserts of erotic flowers;
held in the… - By Triin Pajaa child, I knew: children love children.
children devour children.
even the cruelest were beloveds.… - By Othuke UmukoroEverything is in bloom.
Begins with me giving my song
to a girl
who likes girls.
Is this not how the body…