Poetry CATEGORY

Original poetry.

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She’s nearly done, gained seven more feathers and she’s eager to run. Beyond this girl named Petite Belief. ...
I was my mistress’s slave – -that way my identity flew: this breath in my chest would knock the canvas edge ...
The mothers of the disappeared live in shadows They can’t see their stubby swollen fingers in the mirror anymore T...
I see her on my wide-screen tv, see the story through her bloodshot eyes: “The thick needle pokes my thumb, red drople...
I came out of a cauldron before the fire settled and walked across the flames into the landscape made for me. They found...
Marble women are the ones I admire most. Their soft stone flesh smoothing away centuries of Sensual concern. I stare in ...
All praise to she who stands, arms like swords, and calls an apocalypse when she sees it, and takes a stake in what is n...
Having two homes, two languages, two shores, both of which hold claim on my blood and oaken heart, I am always missing o...
For the house on the Baltic Sea in the tiny village of Sarnate, Latvia, where generations of my family have been born, l...
My breasts abound with milk I am bountiful, my hips swollen with the heat of summer eyes flush and gait straight I walk ...
speak to me, speak to me of identifiable dying, of your wars where yearning stops in a blood gush. in the wars i know, a...
Her veiled body glides through the empty streets An Angel of Death. Her eyes, wild with pagan fire flames Search the rui...
My father told me to cherish my name As it spoke of centuries of pride and valor. As the years passed, and I had many na...