PARKER: Neither Bloody Nor Bowed

They say of me, and so they should,
It’s doubtful if I come to good.
I see acquaintances and friends
Accumulating dividends,
And making enviable names
In science, art, and parlor games.
But I, despite expert advice,
Keep doing things I think are nice,
And though to good I never come-
Inseparable my nose and thumb!

— Dorothy Parker


by Danez Smith

Have I spent too much time worrying about the boys

killing each other to pray for the ones who do it

with their own hands?

Is that not black on black violence?

Is that not a mother who has to bury her boy?

Is it not the same play?

The same plot & characters?

The curtain rises, then:

a womb

a boy

a night emptied of music

a trigger

a finger

a bullet



It always drives the crowd to their feet.

An encore

of boy after boy

after sweet boy            — their endless, bloody bow.

They throw dirt on the actors like roses

until the boys are drowned by the earth

& the audience doesn’t remember

what they’re standing for.


via sideshow by Danez Smith | Poetry Magazine.


Gil Scott-Heron: Jose Campos Torres

“Jose Campos Torres”

I had said I wasn’t going to write no more poems like this
I had confessed to myself all along, tracer of life, poetry trends
That awareness, consciousness, poems that screamed of pain and the origins of pain and death had blanketed my tablets
And therefore, my friends, brothers, sisters, in-laws, outlaws, and besides — they already knew
But brother Torres, common ancient bloodline brother Torres is dead

Continue reading

A poem from your Ex Girlfriend to the new love of your life

Photography by R J Poole


If you tell her I was an old friend, she will only hear
half of what you say. She will recall how you looked at places
with a tinge of regret and a shade of nostalgia. She will remember
how you skipped a certain song ― a reminder of something you’ll find an excuse
not to tell her every time the car radio is on.

Read the whole poem by A. A. Dizon at the link below:

via A Poem from your exgirlfriend... | Artparasites


UK National Poetry Day!

National Poetry Day (UK) is on Thursday 8th October 2015

That is tomorrow & the theme is Light. What will you share? Leave a hint in the comments below.

Celebrate with @PoetryDayUK: it will be our 21st birthday! #NationalPoetryDay

Kef 12 by Henry Dumas

Take up the blood from the grass, sun.
Take it up.
These people do not thirst for it.
Take up the insect children that play in
the grass, sun.
Take them away.
These people are sick of them.
Take down the long slender reeds, sun.
Cut them down.
These people cannot make flutes any longer.
Now sun, come closer to the earth!
Even closer than that.
Closer. Now, sun.
Take away the shape from the metal, sun.
They are like stone, these people.
Now make them lava.

via Kef 12 by Henry Dumas | The Poetry Foundation

Harlem Hopscotch

One foot down, then hop! It’s hot.
          Good things for the ones that’s got.
Another jump, now to the left.

          Everybody for hisself.

In the air, now both feet down.
         Since you black, don’t stick around.
Food is gone, the rent is due,

          Curse and cry and then jump two.

All the people out of work,
         Hold for three, then twist and jerk.
Cross the line, they count you out.

          That’s what hopping’s all about.

Both feet flat, the game is done.
They think I lost. I think I won.

via Harlem Hopscotch by Maya AngelouThe Poetry Foundation


Fall From Elegance with a dull thud

I am not a graceful person. I am not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2am, I am gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe that I don’t belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn’t happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm. You don’t see the lightning, but you hear the echoes.

—Anna Peters

Teen Poem Goes Viral

Worst Day Ever?

Today was the absolute worst day ever

And don’t try to convince me that

There’s something good in every day

Because, when you take a closer look,

This world is a pretty evil place.

Even if

Some goodness does shine through once in a while

Satisfaction and happiness don’t last.

And it’s not true that

It’s all in the mind and heart


True happiness can be attained

Only if one’s surroundings are good

It’s not true that good exists

I’m sure you can agree that

The reality


My attitude

It’s all beyond my control

And you’ll never in a million years hear me say

Today was a very good day

Now read it from bottom to top, the other way,

And see what I really feel about my day.

Not long afterwards, the poem was entered into a poetry competition on, making it into the semi-finals before ultimately being passed over. 

via Brooklyn Teen’s Poem Goes Viral…and the rest is history | Chabad-Lubavitch News.