Poem of the Day
Yellow Striped Pajamas
By Shamsher Bahadur Singh
walking silently on his paws, he emerges from the semidarkness and disappears into it.
Poetry: A-C
An Illness
By Robert Creeley
The senses of one’s
life begin
to fade. Rather,
Anger
By Robert Creeley
The time is.
The air seems a cover,
the room is quiet.
Days and Days
By Robert Creeley
After we
were all
a bed,
Down Home
By Robert Creeley
Is hunger
only automatic
appetite?
For John Duff
By Robert Creeley
Blast of harsh
flat sunlight
on recalcitrant ground
For Marisol
By Robert Creeley
A little
water
falls.
Night
By Robert Creeley
Needs most
happily mutual
The Edge
By Robert Creeley
Place it,
make the space
of it. Yellow,
The Finger
By Robert Creeley
Either in or out of
the mind, a conception
overrides it. So that
The Mountains in the Desert
By Robert Creeley
The mountains blue now
at the back of my head,
such geography of self and soul