Love in Stereo
By Remica Bingham-RisherI am almost convinced this morning by the volley
of verses on each frequency, roughnecks telling it
like they want it to be, intoning You bad, baby
Calling poets to a greater role in public life and fostering a national network of socially engaged poets.
By Remica Bingham-RisherI am almost convinced this morning by the volley
of verses on each frequency, roughnecks telling it
like they want it to be, intoning You bad, baby
By Luis Alberto AmbroggioPoetry might never have seen
that categorical word,
but in its charged belligerence
of emotions and in its profound determination,
By Holly KarapetkovaThere never was a garden
only a leaving:
miles and miles
of footprints in the dirt.
By Marcos L. MartínezThere are immeasurable ways to count days: on the median the sunflower tracks UV streams: east to west then sleep; an acorn gets weeded out of the common area ‘til another live oak drobs a bomb then sprouts till, yanked away again;
By Lauren K. AlleyneWhere does a black girl go
when her body is emptied `
Of her? And her wild voice,
where does it sing its story
By Bennie Herroni always thought
babies came from dancing
i owned every color of
corduroyed pants
By Jose PaduaJose Padua performs the poem "Grinderman" at the 2012 Split This Rock Poetry Festival.
By Tim SeiblesTim Seibles performs "One Turn Around the Sun" at the 2014 Split This Rock Poetry Festival.
By Bettina JuddLucy didn’t scream like most. Though sometimes she
would moan--deep, long and overdue. I’d wake
thinking death. It’s her, knees curled under, head face
down, her body trying to move out of itself. Anarcha
By Hermine PinsonMother
Slipper
July
“ I will ask you to recall these words
at the end of our session”