Dawn Lundy Martin – They will tell you that I was sick, that I was a drug addict.

Dawn Lundy Martin They will tell you that I was sick, that I was a drug addict. They will tell you I died a natural death. Sometimes young people just die, they will say, we don’t know why. They will say I was lazy, that I could not work because of disease and just general …

John Clare – I Am

John Clare (July 13, 1793 – May 20, 1864) I am—yet what I am none cares or knows;My friends forsake me like a memory lost:I am the self-consumer of my woes—They rise and vanish in oblivion’s host,Like shadows in love-frenzied stifled throes—And yet I am and live—like vapours tossed Into the nothingness of scorn and noise,Into …

Edna St. Vincent Millay – Time Does Not Bring Relief

Edna St. Vincent Millay (February 22, 1892 – October 19, 1950) Time does not bring relief; you all have lied   Who told me time would ease me of my pain!   I miss him in the weeping of the rain;   I want him at the shrinking of the tide;The old snows melt from every mountain-side,   And last year’s leaves are …

Marie Howe – Fifty

Marie Howe The soul has a story that has a shape that almost no onesees.  No, no one ever does.  All those kisses, The bedroom chair that rocked with me in it, his bodyhis body and his and his and his.                                                             More, I said, moreand more and more. . . . What has it come to?Like …

Derek Jarman – To Whom It May Concern

Derek Jarman (January 31, 1942–February 19, 1994) to whom it may concernin the dead stones of a planetno longer remembered as earthmay he decipher this opaque hieroglyphperform an archeology of soulon these precious fragmentsall that remains of our vanished dayshere — at the sea’s edgeI have planted a stony gardendragon tooth dolmen spring upto defend …

William Wordsworth – Surprised By Joy

Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings; it takes its origins from emotion recollected in tranquility. The emotion is contemplated till, by a species of reaction, the tranquility gradually disappears. William Wordsworth (April 07, 1770 - April 23, 1850) Surprised by joy—impatient as the WindI turned to share the transport—Oh! with whomBut Thee, long …

Alejandra Pizarnik – All Night I Hear The Noise Of Water Sobbing

Alejandra Pizarnik (April 29, 1936 – September 25, 1972) All night I hear the noise of water sobbing. All night I make night in me, I make the day that begins on my account, that sobs because day falls like water through night.         All night I hear the voice of someone seeking me out. All …

Virgil Suárez – Bad Sons Anonymous

Virgil Suárez At this year’s conventionwe gather to pay homageto our fathers, responsiblemen who worked hard: laborers, stone cutters, welders,carpenters — blue collar all,men who raged, stormedtheir anger through the house, our mothers couldn’t manage,swept with brooms the debrisof broken things, in silencethey took it out on us, belts in hand, we stood there, cried,long …