The Poetry Box

National Poetry Month

Poem of the Day (04-22-2018)

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To celebrate National Poetry Month, The Poetry Box is sharing a Poem-of-the-Day, selected from various anthologies and individual poet collections that we have published over the years.

National Poetry Month, 2018 - Poem of the Day at The Poetry Box

Please enjoy today’s selection: “Before I Gained All This Weight” by Molly Fisk, which appears in Verse on the Vine Anthology:

Before I Gained All This Weight

I was so self-conscious I could barely
walk into town for fear people
would stare. I thought I was hideous,
unlovable. Now I want to shake
that poor girl, even though it wasn’t
her fault, so afraid to be human —
rattle her cage of good grades, selftanning
lotion and green eye-liner,
fast-acting depilatory cream, tell her
to smile for God’s sake and kiss
the next boy she sees, life is shorter
than anyone imagines. Silver planes
plummet from clean skies, cancer gnaws
the marrow of even younger bones
than yours, wake up! There’s still time!
Everything around you is unbelievably
beautiful.

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Poem of the Day (04-21-2018)

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To celebrate National Poetry Month, The Poetry Box is sharing a Poem-of-the-Day, selected from various anthologies and individual poet collections that we have published over the years.

National Poetry Month, 2018 - Poem of the Day at The Poetry Box

Please enjoy today’s selection: “Tracy Chapman” by David Jibson, which appears in The Poeming Pigeon: Poems about Music:

Tracy Chapman

Give Me One Reason presents a real challenge.
What reason, if I’m allowed only one,
would be good enough?

My granddaughter, who idolizes Ariana Grande,
asks me who is singing. I tell her.
Then she wants to know if it’s a man or a woman
because she can’t tell from the voice or the name.

I listen to Tracy strum and pick her way
through the sharps and sevenths
of her perfect blues progression.

I answer back to her,
“Give me one reason why it matters.”

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Poem of the Day (04-20-2018)

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To celebrate National Poetry Month, The Poetry Box is sharing a Poem-of-the-Day, selected from various anthologies and individual poet collections that we have published over the years.

National Poetry Month, 2018 - Poem of the Day at The Poetry Box

Please enjoy today’s selection: “No, It’s Called Flower” by Judith Skillman, which appears in The Poeming Pigeon: Doobie or Not Doobie:

No, It’s Called Flower

Not weed, I was told
by the young man
behind the counter.
Weed is seen in a bad light,
he explained, for its connotations.

Flower—here he gestured
at thick buds of Kush,
Strawberry Pie, and Diesel
fi lling glass jars,
spilling their scent

into the room, arrayed
in shades of verdant green,
huge buds horny as hell
for what they’d been deprived of.
—Flower is pretty, more acceptable.

I applaud your rebranding,
I said, the question
of how to inhale
without burning my throat
still there on my lips, unasked.

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Poem of the Day (04-19-2018)

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To celebrate National Poetry Month, The Poetry Box is sharing a Poem-of-the-Day, selected from various anthologies and individual poet collections that we have published over the years.

National Poetry Month, 2018 - Poem of the Day at The Poetry Box

Please enjoy today’s selection: “Hippie Wrinkles” by Michael Berton which appears in Keeping It Weird—Poems & Stories of Portland, Oregon

Hippie Wrinkles

the hype
of the hip
city everyone wants
to live in a paradigm
during early evening
brewpub crawls
tugboat hops
circuiting crater
butt molds poems
into poses
trickery in drag
faux vogue in
rogue’s clothes
hemp grass
medicine man
tai chi
reflection
over big pink
moon shine
where okie
mutant salmon
bounce bridges
rainbow youth tread
queer leaps
on bike seats
honk for
obnoxious
deadhead poets
panhandling sex
at orgasmic
open mic
on alphabet street
rate

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Poem of the Day (04-18-2018)

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To celebrate National Poetry Month, The Poetry Box is sharing a Poem-of-the-Day, selected from various anthologies and individual poet collections that we have published over the years.

National Poetry Month, 2018 - Poem of the Day at The Poetry Box

Please enjoy today’s selection: “What the Crows Have Taught Me” by Donna McLaughlin Schwender, which appears in Poeming Pigeons: Poems about Birds:

What the Crows Have Taught Me

Don’t be in such a hurry
to distance yourself from your family.

Finding a lifelong mate
really is possible.

Be faithful to your own flock,
but never hesitate to help others in need.

Stand up to bullies,
regardless of their size.

Being part of a murder
can be a good thing.

Take turns being the lookout
for those you love.

When communicating, keep it simple
and be loud enough for others to hear you the first time.

Heed the warning calls
of those you trust.

Being called an old crow
is actually a compliment.

Black really is beautiful
in every form.

Life is a balance of being grounded
and knowing when to take flight.

Being big-boned
doesn’t impede one’s ability to fly.

The width of your wingspan
doesn’t determine how far you’ll travel in life.

Don’t be afraid to change course,
even if it’s at the last second.

Fly,
even if you don’t excel at soaring.

Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise –
hopping is a legitimate mode of transportation.

Sometimes,
strutting is required.

If a tool you need doesn’t exist,
be resourceful and create one.

Never underestimate
the intelligence of others.

Accept handouts graciously
and share the bounty.

Stop being wasteful –
eat the damn leftovers!

And above all else,
always carry your wishbone close to your heart.

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Poem of the Day (04-17-2018)

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To celebrate National Poetry Month, The Poetry Box is sharing a Poem-of-the-Day, selected from various anthologies and individual poet collections that we have published over the years.

National Poetry Month, 2018 - Poem of the Day at The Poetry Box

Please enjoy today’s selection: “Appetite” by Paulann Petersen (Oregon Poet Laureate Emerita), which appears in The Poeming Pigeon – Poems about Food:

Appetite

Pale gold and crumbling with crust
mottled dark, almost bronze,
pieces of honeycomb lie on a plate.
Flecked with the pale paper
of hive, their hexagonal cells
leak into the deepening pool
of amber. On your lips,
against palate, tooth and tongue,
the viscous sugar squeezes
from its chambers, sears sweetness
into your throat until you chew
pulp and wax from a blue city
of bees. Between your teeth
is the blown flower and the flower’s
seed. Passport pages stamped
and turning. Death’s officious hum.
Both the candle and its anther
of flame. Your own yellow hunger.
Never say you can’t take
this world into your mouth.

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Poem of the Day (04-16-2018)

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To celebrate National Poetry Month, The Poetry Box is sharing a Poem-of-the-Day, selected from various anthologies and individual poet collections that we have published over the years.

National Poetry Month, 2018 - Poem of the Day at The Poetry Box

Please enjoy today’s selection: “Requiem” by Pam Crow, which appears in Of Course, I’m a Feminist!

Requiem

~ for Nikki Elias

He kicked the door in.

let her name be blessed

There was a restraining order.

let her name be praised

There was a stalking order.

let her name be glorified

There was extra security at the school.

let her name be lifted up

Her two girls there watching.

let her name be graced in beauty

He shot her with an arrow and a gun.

let her name ascend in joy

She was buried under a freezing rain.

let her name ascend in joy

He shot her with an arrow and a gun.

let her name be graced in beauty

Her two girls there watching.

let her name be lifted up

There was extra security at the school.

let her name be glorified

There was a stalking order.

let her name be praised

There was a restraining order.

let her name be blessed

He kicked the door in.

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Poem of the Day (04-15-2018)

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To celebrate National Poetry Month, The Poetry Box is sharing a Poem-of-the-Day, selected from various anthologies and individual poet collections that we have published over the years.

National Poetry Month, 2018 - Poem of the Day at The Poetry Box

Please enjoy today’s selection: “Today I Will Only Attend to the Small Things” by Viola Weinberg, which appears in The Poeming Pigeon: Poems from the Garden:

Today I Will Only Attend to the Small Things

The tiny basil flowers, for instance
that I will pinch back for the sake of the plant
The little carrots deliciously ready, but very short
The one beet that stands alone in its bed
bursting from the soil, red and bleeding
The last French radish, which has gotten
rather large, but can still be sliced
in two and set in a water bath to crisp
or the dead heads of carnations on a plant

that once looked like an explosion of red paint
My plans involve the garden shears and clippers
grown gamy now from pruning sappy limbs
or watching the little dog, who lies in the sun, still
as the sleeping Buddha or the pea shoots
trying to latch on the old willow teepee
or the little figlets still shapeless and vague —
but surely ready to be counted, their perfume
preceding their womanly bodies, their forming seed
I will rediscover the lost glove with a patch
and measure the cucumbers just set in a row

I will not think about things so big they are unimaginable:
Death, dearth, why some are loved and some are not
I will continue my subtle movements, small and tender
As if they were cilia in the ear of a thirsty honey bee
In this small world, I shall gather, cut, water and harvest
Entire life cycles of their little universe of mulch and dirt
I will hum a modest tune and clip the ragged thyme
No one will be saved; there is no winner’s bell to ring —
just the soft breeze with an insinuation of the ocean
a small planet of things to tend, one sleepy clover at a time

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