New York poet Joe Tessitore challenges poets to begin a poem with these words:
Post your poem in the comments section below. (Poems should be metered.)
. Vulture Culture Above the clouds, a vulture soars, the leader of a culture war. The bird of prey is...
. Finding the Crime “Show me the man and I’ll find you the crime” ---Lavrentiy Beria, Head of the Secret...
One crimson leaf falls The others cling to the branch As though they have time Snow fills the valley Except…
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Emma Vopal Dear Judges, I continue to have formatting issues with submitting my haikus. Please disregard my last submission and…
I’m grateful that it is encouraging to you, Peg. Thank you for letting me know.
Thanks for that connection, C.B. I don’t recall that saying, but my husband does.
freedom for all
written in pen
signed by the blood
of millions of men
skirts long
modesty longer
any accusations
under the water
a level field
but tilted to play
to pick up the dice
sign your rights away
fairness for all
no less or no more
but everything’s equal
if no one’s keeping score
My country used to be a quiet song,
a flute in neem shade, a thread of rain,
a grain of salt held on the tongue,
a name whispered and carried across time.
It lived in the dust of the Thar,
in scrolls opened with care,
in camel bells swinging
beneath a saffron dusk.
It asked for little—
a corner for prayer,
a sentence that meant what it said,
a hand not clenched but open.
Now the noise thickens the air.
The loudest word wins.
The softest truths are forgotten.
Still I walk beneath her brightened skies,
and breathe the dust—
Satyam eva jayate.