Vox Populi

A curated webspace for Poetry, Politics, and Nature with over 6,000,000 visitors since 2014 and over 9,000 archived posts.

Anita Hofschneider: Environmental Justice as Birthright

Indigenous youth are using litigation to force change in political and economic systems that have long resisted calls to climate action. On Aug. 8, 2023, 13-year-old Kaliko was getting ready for … Continue reading

September 10, 2024 · 9 Comments

Laure-Anne Bosselaar: Farmer’s Market in Antwerp

I remember this so clearly — as if it happened today.
How she arranged her skirt, rubbed her hands together.

September 9, 2024 · 18 Comments

Tony Gloeggler: Fade Away

In 1964, my father and uncle
loaded the U HAUL and we left
Bed Stuy with all the other white
people and moved to Long Island.

September 7, 2024 · 9 Comments

Alma Luz Villanueva: I Sleep with my Buck Knife

It all began with my full-blood Yaqui Indian grandmother, Mamacita, from Sonora, Mexico, who raised me in San Francisco.

September 7, 2024 · 12 Comments

Helen Hunt Jackson: Poppies on the Wheat

Along Ancona’s hills the shimmering heat,
A tropic tide of air with ebb and flow
Bathes all the fields of wheat until they glow
Like flashing seas of green

September 6, 2024 · 11 Comments

Scott Silsbe: Two Poems

That was the summer of the unrelenting wildflower smoke.

September 3, 2024 · 3 Comments

karla k. morton: Chow Chow

It could be a religion, this relish—
what’s left over,
fall’s last stand
before the death-breath of frost.

August 31, 2024 · 17 Comments

Marc Bekoff: Tasty Bacon or Fellow Being? The Paradox of How We Relate to the Intelligence and Emotions of Pigs

Every piece of bacon comes from a unique personality.

August 31, 2024 · 8 Comments

Lourdes Medrano: Who’s Helping Asylum Seekers?

Asylum seekers hoping to enter the U.S. are turning to grassroots organizations for information, safety, and dignity.

August 30, 2024 · 3 Comments

Paul Christensen: At Sea on the Queen Mary Two

In the decks above, life was throbbing and squirming in anticipation of  some event that would never come. Or if it came, would be so gradual as to be uneventful. The sea told me that.

August 28, 2024 · 6 Comments

Dane Cervine: This Burning

I drove silently in the night
into the heaving hills of Los Angeles afire, so close now,
not knowing if there would be a way through

August 27, 2024 · 11 Comments

Lauren Magliozzi: Urban wildfires disrupt streams and their tiny inhabitants − losing these insects is a warning of bigger water problems

When you think of urban wildfires, you might picture charred trees and houses. But beneath the surface of nearby streams, fires can also cause a silent upheaval.

August 27, 2024 · 5 Comments

Barbara Crooker: Who Do You Carry?

On city streets, the homeless unfurl
their sleeping bags like hungry tongues.

August 26, 2024 · 23 Comments

Michael Simms: Waterfall

In Chatham Woods near our house
a spring bursts
from a hillside and falls
into a rocky pool

August 24, 2024 · 54 Comments

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