Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature

Lisel Mueller: Alive Together

Speaking of marvels, I am alive
together with you, when I might have been
alive with anyone under the sun

April 16, 2021 · Leave a comment

Chard deNiord: Lizard, An Exegesis as Love Letter

So when you woke, there I was in my Sunday best as a funny little guy with a complex tongue and stunted legs who spoke the double truth.

April 1, 2021 · 2 Comments

Doug Anderson: What time does to love

I know the spring is there.
I walk over it and feel its pull.

March 11, 2021 · 3 Comments

Majid Naficy: Billie Holiday

I walk gently on the skin of the sea.
A wandering wind wraps around our bodies
And an albatross opens its wings on our shoulders.

March 9, 2021 · 1 Comment

John Samuel Tieman: After Jorge Guillén

You slept and your arms stretched and almost caressed
my insomnia.

February 19, 2021 · 1 Comment

Jan-Mitchell Sherrill: Two love poems

Come with me
to the river again: we will test Heraclitus,
kiss deep at the tender point of sleepless change.

February 14, 2021 · 1 Comment

Kenneth Fearing: LOVE, 20 Cents The First Quarter Mile

I forgive you for being beautiful and generous and wise.
I forgive you, to put it simply, for being alive, and pardon you, in short, for being you.

February 12, 2021 · 4 Comments

Scott Silsbe: She Got My Mind Messed Up

Is something burning? Is something here
on fire? It smells like something here is
burning or on fire. It might be in my head.

February 11, 2021 · 5 Comments

Edna St. Vincent Millay: I shall go back again to the bleak shore

I shall go back again to the bleak shore
And build a little shanty on the sand…

December 11, 2020 · Leave a comment

Emily Dickinson: I have no life but this

I have no Life but this —
To lead it here —

November 13, 2020 · 6 Comments

Doug Anderson: To Love Like This

To love like this…

October 31, 2020 · 1 Comment

Jason Irwin: Giuseppe the Shoe-Maker

Giuseppe, a simple shoe-maker,
who never learned English, stood
banging his head against the wall,
cursing God in his native tongue

October 27, 2020 · 2 Comments

S.B. Merrow: Craving

I’m talking about a night we spend
in the same body on the same smooth stones
on the bottom of the dry river
when a storm comes.

August 17, 2020 · 3 Comments

Doug Anderson: My mind is weighted toward sorrow

My mind is weighted toward sorrow
and I feel unbalanced when I walk.
There are old rooms there, certainly,
that I’ve now abandoned, with their coffee spills
and unmade beds…

July 30, 2020 · 3 Comments

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