When you burst through the body’s confines
in the grip of joy,
think of the black hole's
birth cry:
Review of James Diaz's "This Someone I Call Stranger" by Devon Balwit
While voicing anguish, Diaz’ narrators are never pitiable, nor does he allow the suffering self to wallow.
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via Emory
A Poet I’ve Never Heard Of: Mari Evans
are you aware that
with you
went the sun
all light
and what few stars
there were?
Sonnets by Kristin Garth
A southern snowflake in blizzard descends.
The winter you’re born beach town’s snowed in.
An alabaster tourist never blends.
You’re not like your parents. You don’t pretend.
Poetry by ryn weil
We do not colonize
We pillage and remove.
Poetry by Julia Laxer
Sea anemones grow every year. She remembers. She’s not the hunter
but knows provocation. I sing to the bees and make honeycakes.
via SvD
A Poet I’ve Never Heard Of: Karin Boye
The fourth poet in this series is Karin Boye, a Swedish poet born in Gothenburg in 1900. Her first collection of poems, entitled Clouds came out on 1922. In 1931 founded the poetry magazine Spektrum with Erik Mesterton and Josef Riwkin, translating many of T.S. Eliot’s poems.
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Excerpts from "Dress Code Aquarium" by Benjamin Niespodziany
The doctor wasn't supposed to
but she prescribed herself
to try new things.
"Something new once a week,
repeat, repeat."
via ArtSpecialDay
A Poet I’ve Never Heard Of: Alda Merini
Alda Merini put a lot of poetry and other writings into this world, but it is hard to find a lot of it translated! Below you will find both poems and aphorisms, or as Merini called them "spells of the night."
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via swissinfo.ch
A Poet I’ve Never Heard Of: Alfonsina Storni
And when you have put
Into it the soul
That through the bedrooms
Became entangled
Then, good man,
Ask that I be white
Ask that I be like snow
Ask that I be chaste
via Vashtie
Five Poetry Forms to Nudge You out of Your Writing Lull
So while looking for a type of Morningsong that was NOT an Aubade I came across quite a few gems that I will hope inspire you to write different, or write anew.
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Poetry by Sarah Rebecca Warren
We are sixteen and arrogant. We follow curiosity
in the cab of your F-150, skip what we told
our mothers about church. Our prayers are songs
pumped loud through speakers. We sing hymns
of Kurt Cobain, flush against our wind-flung hair.
Natalia Drepina
Poetry by Ashley Miranda
witch blood, witch body, witch woman
handing out sweet milk and revenge
Ashely Adams
Poetry by Ashely Adams
Jupiter
There is a storm older than the world (at the center of everything),
churning gods’ blood
(eating the flesh of their flesh).
Its daughters turned
into ice and rock under a jealous rain, bending
all the softness into metal.
(Don’t look).
This gale sings in hydrogen tongues
and swallows
swallows
swallows
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Ashely Adams is an MFA candidate in nonfiction at the University of South Florida. Her work has appeared in Flyway, Heavy Feather Review, Fourth River, Anthropoid, Permafrost, OCCULUM and others. Her favorite astronomical body is the Galilean moon, Europa.
Poetry By Gregory Crosby
We’re an elegy, if by elegy you mean
a motherfucker ready to light this place up.