Vox Populi

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

Edna St. Vincent Millay: Recuerdo

We hailed, “Good morrow, mother!” to a shawl-
covered head,
And bought a morning paper which neither of us
read;
And she wept, “God bless you!” for the apples and
pears,
and we gave her all our money but our subway fares.

December 24, 2021 · 3 Comments

Jason Irwin: Ouija Board

I asked When? And How?
I was thirteen. My cousin, twelve.
It said I would be 41.
The same age my mother was that Christmas.
Elvis was 42 when he died. Jesus, 33.

December 23, 2021 · 3 Comments

Peter Blair: Hibernation

Morning breaks
blue in the open spaces
through limbs

December 21, 2021 · Leave a comment

Mary E. Martin: Permission to Forget

What we should remember
is how the wind like our breath
bellows the world

December 20, 2021 · 3 Comments

Michael Simms: Satan and the Snowman

I don’t have relationships,
the old drunk explained
with surprising wisdom,
I take hostages.

December 18, 2021 · 13 Comments

Wislawa Szymborska: Possibilities

I prefer the hell of chaos to the hell of order.
I prefer Grimms’ fairy tales to the newspapers’ front pages.
I prefer leaves without flowers to flowers without leaves.

December 17, 2021 · 5 Comments

Christopher Bursk: The Day Everything Changed

I do not remember the exact date,
but I won’t forget the smell of rain still in the screen door
and the man on the other side
trying to catch his breath

December 16, 2021 · Leave a comment

Elizabeth Romero: Album

Here are my two sons in 1968
In their father’s arms.
He looks harmless.
They look doubtful and uneasy.

December 15, 2021 · 3 Comments

Baron Wormser: Once

I was a candle
Carried upstairs downstairs
One room to another

December 14, 2021 · 5 Comments

Patricia Jabbeh Wesley: There Will Be Times

How your arrival is now nothing to her?
And your leaving is nothing to her?

December 9, 2021 · 10 Comments

Lisa Zimmerman: Testament

I believe the truth needs no defense.
I believe that feelings might not be facts
but they matter all the same

December 8, 2021 · 5 Comments

Al Ortolani: Paper Birds Don’t Fly

Sitting at the table with the paper birds,
she unfolded mine and began to read.
I couldn’t make out a word
she was saying.

December 7, 2021 · 1 Comment

Jane Satterfield: Fox

the fox
is interloper, is fur of russet
and iron, is light-footed, is real
in my alley

December 6, 2021 · 5 Comments

Majid Naficy: The Family Koran

There, in the tradition of the Old Testament,
He stoned the unruly women
And hanged the disillusioned youth
In the market place.

December 5, 2021 · 2 Comments

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