by Bernardine Evaristo Who do you love？ Who do you love， when the man you married goes off for months on end， quelling rebellions at the frontiers， or...
by Michael S. Harper Those four black girls blown up in that Alabama church remind me of five hundred middle passage blacks， in a net， under water in ...
by Michael Burkard It's 11.9 miles to Mardela Springs. The public school's a left away from the town which is too small to be called a town. P...
by Ruth Stone Writing poems about writing poems is like rolling bales of hay in Texas. Nothing but the horizon to stop you. But consider the railroad&...
by Pierre Joris If the light is the soul then soul is what's all around me. It is you， it is around you too， it is you. The darkness is inside me，...
by Maya Angelou Lying， thinking Last night How to find my soul a home Where water is not thirsty And bread loaf is not stone I came up with one thing ...
by William Shakespeare All the world's a stage， And all the men and women merely players； They have their exits and their entrances， And one man i...
by Mark Doty This salt-stain spot marks the place where men lay down their heads， back to the bench， and hoist nothing that need be lifted but some bu...
by Harryette Mullen Forgive me， I'm no good at this. I can't write back. I never read your letter. I can't say I got your note. I haven...
by Darcy Cummings One summer afternoon， I learned my body like a blind child leaving a walled school for the first time， stumbling from cool hallways ...