Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature

Doug Anderson: The Tyrant

The people beat him so badly
that afterward
they could not distinguish him
from the pigs the rebels slaughtered

July 13, 2021 · 2 Comments

Barbara E. Young: Blues for the Fisherman

Since the blues ought to be tall birds
wading and wailing 
when the sun dies—
let the blues fill its lungs now

July 12, 2021 · 2 Comments

Federico García Lorca: New York (Office and Denunciation)

I know there are mountains and eyeglasses
And wisdom. But I didn’t come to see the sky.
I’m here to see the clouded blood,
the blood that sweeps machines over waterfalls
and the soul toward the cobra’s tongue.

July 10, 2021 · 4 Comments

Edgar Lee Masters: Archibald Higbie

I loathed you, Spoon River. I tried to rise above you,
I was ashamed of you. I despised you
As the place of my nativity.

July 9, 2021 · Leave a comment

David Adès: These Are the Men

Into the lush gardens of their hearts
they took me,
gardens of unexpected flowerings
amid bracken and tangles of vines

July 8, 2021 · 1 Comment

Joy Gaines-Friedler: Happiness

What’s between them is a mystery.
The way the leaves that flag in the wind
know to be leaves, or the tree knows to grow them.

July 7, 2021 · 1 Comment

Majid Naficy: Khomeini’s Visit

My father never told us
That Khomeini had visited him
For medical treatment many years ago

July 6, 2021 · 13 Comments

Kari Gunter Seymour: Planting By the Signs

I hear my grandmother’s voice, a divination,
Thick rolls the mist, that smokes and falls in dew.

July 5, 2021 · 5 Comments

Paul Christensen: Summer’s First Visitors

It’s summer and the gods are playing tug of war with the wind and the sun. Some days are dead-weighted with humid air that clings to our our faces like … Continue reading

July 5, 2021 · 9 Comments

Michael Gregory: Two Songs (audio and text)

I went to the drugstore and I looked inside
Saw my good gal had upped and died
Hung my head down and I cried
Don’t want no more war

July 4, 2021 · 3 Comments

Meg Pokrass: Moments with Crochet Hooks

Back then she and her mother waited for the phone to ring, for money to plump itself up and walk through their door. Moments passed with yarn and crochet hooks.

July 3, 2021 · 1 Comment

H.D.: Evening

shadow seeks shadow,
then both leaf
and leaf-shadow are lost 

July 2, 2021 · Leave a comment

Riad Saleh Hussein: Like a Star in the Sky, Like a Buck in the Jungle

Here is a rock and two eyes
Here is a moon, there is a goose
And still there are more things I could not see

July 1, 2021 · Leave a comment

Naomi Shihab Nye, Michael Simms & Friends: Poets for the People of Gaza

Naomi Shihab Nye, the current Young People’s Poet Laureate, and poet Michael Simms gather international poets to share works that navigate themes of identity, displacement, and home in Gaza.

July 1, 2021 · 8 Comments

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