poetry web

Ride On | Oluwasalvage Archibong - A Poetry Website Featuring Poems by Contemporary Poets

Ride On | Oluwasalvage Archibong

I will like to live an afterglow of smiles
when life is done
like an echo whispering softly down
an empty hall.
When it rains, it rains with vengeance
and when the harmattan strikes,
you can’t smile naturally without bleeding.
Upon my head is a freight
heavier than a fermented cassava
that makes me stagger like a blind drunkard.
Can there ever be sweet without sweat?
Will my tears of grief
dry up before the sun tucks into the cloud?
I would fly away with the wings of fortune
to the remotest sea; sit quietly at its bank and
relax with the loud silence of nature.
May the morning mobs the evils that survived the night.
I shall be resolute regardless
and stick my head above like a Nazi’s prisoner.
Just like the River keeps flowing,
i will keep moving on.

Splintered Eyelid, Gem of Sleep | Stephanie - A Poetry Website Featuring Poems by Contemporary Poets

Splintered Eyelid, Gem of Sleep | Stephanie

Splintered eyelid- gem of sleep, crude
Imaginings, sentient lump- trail of
Unkempt sorrow and storm biding
By moon of sheen and starlight, creed-
Emporium of white-washed scales and
Skeins, lithely brushing dints and dreams
That cruelly fade and frown to gleams,
Heaven’s nymph of sprayed glint-
And this sickness pervades my being
Like folly to thick wings- spread out
And in as thought to whim, gnarled
Bent like holy finish-
Holy Ghost phantasies, stretched taut
And timbered- siphoned drawl in
Swift unfurl- gashes deepening hold-
Scepter glimmer, snaked frisk-
Loose and lucid droop that frills.

Liquid Statues | Jim Bellamy - A Poetry Website Featuring Poems by Contemporary Poets

Liquid Statues | Jim Bellamy

When thunderheads spiral into space, then a wild drome
Is nailed inside a church-chidden city
To move, a masking venus will suck naves from
Bound devils and angelled sleep
Trilled trees dip laxative leaves inside a berried grave
And starry silver men scatter a swelled sun
Against luminaries and liquid statues?

More at https://jimbellamy.simplesite.com.

The Wild Winters of Imperfect Grace | James Diaz - A Poetry Website Featuring Poems by Contemporary Poets

The Wild Winters of Imperfect Grace | James Diaz

No shouting
please
I toss the roots
into the pit
of winter
watching
how slowly our hands
tangle
in sheets and dreams
of migration
this little pill
in the center of the eye
listen:
there are intruders
everywhere
when you live outside
skin and bone
and memory of struggle
kicked – shouting
I can take it,
what else you got?
But there is no one around
3 a.m.
a cold park bench
and a prayer
just about to die out on your lips
I could have been a pretender,
I could have loved you
in a way that you would have found hard to believe,
imperfectly potent,
singular, single-handedly.
Unafraid.

Best Poetry Online