Vox Populi

A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature: over 400,000 monthly users

Nan Shepherd: Real Presence

We are love’s body, or we are undone.

October 1, 2021 · 1 Comment

Edna St. Vincent Millay: She had forgotten how the August Night

She had forgotten how the August night
Was level as a lake beneath the moon,
In which she swam a little, losing sight
Of shore

August 6, 2021 · Leave a comment

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

Donald Trump: MAGA Sonnets

…you’re lucky I’m your president.
You’re so lucky. You’re so lucky, I always tell our great
First Lady, Darling, you’re so lucky.

October 24, 2020 · 8 Comments

Doug Anderson: How it happens

God help me, I don’t know where I’m going.
We hold each other’s hand like children
finding our way home among the closing wolves.

May 19, 2020 · 4 Comments

Edna St. Vincent Millay: Oh, sleep forever in the Latmian cave

Oh, sleep forever in the Latmian cave,
Mortal Endymion, darling of the Moon!

May 8, 2020 · Leave a comment

Edna St. Vincent Millay: I shall forget you presently, my dear (Sonnet IV)

I shall forget you presently, my dear,
So make the most of this, your little day

May 8, 2020 · Leave a comment

Christina Rossetti: The Plague

‘Listen, the last stroke of death’s noon has struck—
The plague is come,’ a gnashing Madman said…

April 10, 2020 · Leave a comment

Dawn Potter: Sonnet in Search of Poems I’ve Never Written

I’ve been meaning to write about a patch of mossy
frogs’ eggs in a vernal pool, about a single contrail
chalking a blue November sky…

February 24, 2020 · 9 Comments

Stephen Dobyns: Persephone, Etc.

Wasn’t it beneath this spot the son of Kronos
pursued his inamorata, holding out a handful
of shining seeds?

February 11, 2020 · 1 Comment

Michael Simms: Re-reading Christina Rossetti’s ‘In an Artist’s Studio’

The value of Rossetti’s poem lies in both the expert use of the Petrarchan sonnet, a particularly challenging form to master in English, and in the poet’s complex stance on the role of art in creating and re-enforcing images of women.

January 24, 2020 · Leave a comment

Arlene Weiner: November

He tears off summer’s dress,
exposes trunk and limb, threatens
worse coming. Yet he brings gifts…

November 4, 2019 · 1 Comment

David Huddle: Bliss Happens

It’s talk that charms the heart. I’ve had it in real
life–folks who conversed with me the way Armstrong
and Fitzgerald sang duets.

August 29, 2019 · 2 Comments

David Huddle: Collusion

Ignorant high school bully that he is,
our fake President tweets out a nickname
for anyone who thwarts or critiques him–
those who care about decency or ethics
or just basic intelligence.

July 30, 2019 · Leave a comment

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