Your dreams are more than a sailboat, journeying to your pier and then on to the next.
Poetry is not confined to books. It does not strictly belong to a seventeenth-century British poet and his endless sonnets. Poetry is the ache of a single mother’s back, the slight brush of your crush’s hand against yours, the tears in your eyes when you kiss your old life goodbye and embrace your new one. Poetry is people and more importantly, poetry is you.
—Mentee Kilhah St. Fort
Featured Poetry Work
Thanksgiving at my aunt’s house in Greenpoint is an entirely memorable experience due to the eccentric details filling every room for an environment reflecting my aunt’s comforts and conflicts.
Greenpoint is a magical place, tucked away at the very Northern tip of Brooklyn, where it borders Queens and the East River. The transport isn’t always favorable, but Greenpoint’s beauty is apparent as stunning views...
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Because dying is loud. And living is too.
Why does the world have to be round?
This departure calls for no baggage.
I once had a dream I could fly.
Mommy doesn’t tell her she’s seeded first in a dying race.
History is not just the past, but also the present and the future. However, it is our decisions as a collective that majorly decide how history runs its course. This poem, titled “Forgotten Ignorance,” describes how climate change should be affecting everyone equally, yet people of color are getting more hard-hit because of the racism and socioeconomic inequality in our society. As such, advocating for a clean climate is inherently linked to advocating for racial equality.
A pair of poems inspired by the title “bloodline” and the poets’ own heritages and culture. How do our family and our history connect and define us to ourselves and to others?
This piece was born during an eight-minute freewrite—a ritual at the beginning of our pair sessions.
Sammi and I both lost our fathers at a young age and writing this poem together has been a way for us to both process our losses and better understand ourselves.
I start with the littlest things. The ones that take no effort. The ones that remind me that I am capable of doing the others.
a woman is lost By Amanda Musmacher
I spent a lot of summer 2020 sitting underneath trees and trying to find the words to articulate what exactly I was feeling and not really being able to find the words. There’s usually a real feeling of restlessness that accompanies summer for me and I think it was amplified by the pandemic.
Do you want to write a poem without having to fully put in effort to make your piece? Use my Poem Generator! After completing a Mad Libs–like questionnaire, you will have the end result of a unique poem to share with your loved ones. Enjoy!
Vulnerable Mirage presents the complex balance of vulnerability and safety of relationships in the form of bubbly, easy to read graphics. Many of the themes I touch on are an attempt at leaning into the confusion of teen angst which is universal in teenage relationships. These excerpts were taken from larger personal works and strive to represent a feeling which I feel could apply to many people in a diverse array of situations.