If hope is a thing with feathers
— oh, can’t you just see it fluttering its wings?
All tagged poetry
Chief Editor’s Note: Nevermore
The end of October brings with it the rattling crunch of fallen leaves, those who went out in blazing jewel-colored glory, muted to schlumps and slushing as they dissolve into the ever-growing puddles taking over cobbled stones and muddy paths alike.
Meet Me in Your Poem Drawer
friday wind a ghost on my cheek/haunted by the moment the weather turned bleak/my phone lighting up my coat pocket/the moment to watch yours I promised
Love Poem for Death
The last time I saw you, you were lying there, next to her/My Mother, the one who had never perceived me or any of my sisters/I guess that is why I wish to spend all my time in the cold/In the darkness surrounding my thoughts, and the unknown lands between this world/And the next--
Youth
Struggling, seeking, sorting, salvaging:
No Saint to Save—
Building, breaking, blaming, bandaging:
No Bliss to Miss—
A Safe Place
My safe place is an old, red house with a big garden. The window frames are white, a striking contrast with the deep, rusty red of the walls. The large front door is open, welcoming all tired wanderers. You might notice the faint smell of a home-cooked meal wafting through the halls and out the door.
From the beaches of Laru
i strip away my clothes; it does not matter / who sunbathes on the rocks, drunk on the endless days. / i have things to do and the sea is waiting. // i trade salt for salt, serving up my heart / on a silver platter. / “take it” i say, and finland turns / its great cold eye in sober curiosity.
My First Poem by Alma Seitsara
Have you ever gotten a song stuck in your head for what seems like ages? How about replying back to that artist with a poem? Alma Seitsara does this and more!
My First Memory by Säde Kaila
Säde Kaila’s poem questions a thing as basic and essential as breathing, one''s name.
My Hometown by Elsa Kallio
Do places change or do we? Elsa Kallio explores this question in her poetry. Read on!