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POETRY SWAP MEET: Poetry we don't usually know about, or?

Kinkpoet
Kinkpoet
Fire of Insight
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Taylor Mali

As a slam poetry performer, Taylor Mali has been on seven National Poetry Slam teams; six appeared on the finals stage and four won the competition (1996 with Team Providence; 1997, 2000 and 2002 with Team NYC-Urbana). Mali is the author of What Learning Leaves and the Last Time as We Are (Write Bloody Publishing), has recorded four CDs, and is included in various anthologies. Poets who have influenced him include Billy Collins, Saul Williams, Walt Whitman, Rives, Mary Oliver, and Naomi Shihab Nye. He is perhaps best known for the poem "What Teachers Make." The popular poem became the basis of a book of essays, titled, "What Teachers Make: In Praise of the Greatest Job in the World" which was published in 2012 by Putnam Adult.[9]

He appeared in Taylor Mali & Friends Live at the Bowery Poetry Club and the documentaries "SlamNation" (1997) and "Slam Planet" (2006). He was also in the HBO production, "Russell Simmons Presents Def Poetry," which won a Peabody Award in 2003. Taylor Mali is the former president of Poetry Slam Incorporated, and he has performed with such renowned poets as Billy Collins and Allen Ginsberg. Although he retired from the National Poetry Slam competition in 2005,[10] he still helps curate the reading series Page Meets Stage, held monthly at the Bowery Poetry Club. His chapbook, The Whetting Stone, won the Rattle Chapbook Prize for 2017. Source: Wikipedia

Link to recording of Taylor Mali reading The Second Pass:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=awaBcRsOXsY

Taylor Mali
THE SECOND PASS

The first pass along the whetting stone
creates an edge too fine to last;
the second, more blunting pass
tempers the edge into usefulness.


Together we used to hone blades
so unutterably precise
tomatoes would slice themselves
open to expose their reddest flesh.


Later, in the restaurant’s kitchen,
when the head chef needed a knife,
screaming in French, he came to her
station and used one of hers.


She told me this with pride one night,
then put her hand on my chest
and cried stainless steel tears
I could not understand.


When she jumped from the window
and they searched the apartment,
they found in the bathroom a knife,
its edge unbloodied, as sharp as a razor.


And I keep thinking of the second pass,
how it sharpens as it dulls the working edge,
how the one has a real and necessary need
of the other to do what it does.

—from The Whetting Stone
2017 Rattle Chapbook Prize Winner

Vandel_Viaclovsky
Vandel_Viaclovsky
Van
Thought Provoker
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The Flea

By John Donne (1572–1631)


Mark but this flea, and mark in this,  
How little that which thou deniest me is;  
It sucked me first, and now sucks thee,
And in this flea our two bloods mingled be;  
Thou know’st that this cannot be said
A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead,
   Yet this enjoys before it woo,
   And pampered swells with one blood made of two,
   And this, alas, is more than we would do.

Oh stay, three lives in one flea spare,
Where we almost, nay more than married are.  
This flea is you and I, and this
Our marriage bed, and marriage temple is;  
Though parents grudge, and you, w'are met,  
And cloistered in these living walls of jet.
   Though use make you apt to kill me,
   Let not to that, self-murder added be,
   And sacrilege, three sins in killing three.

Cruel and sudden, hast thou since
Purpled thy nail, in blood of innocence?  
Wherein could this flea guilty be,
Except in that drop which it sucked from thee?  
Yet thou triumph’st, and say'st that thou  
Find’st not thy self, nor me the weaker now;
   ’Tis true; then learn how false, fears be:
   Just so much honor, when thou yield’st to me,
   Will waste, as this flea’s death took life from thee.




Jade-Pandora
Jade-Pandora
jade tiger
Tyrant of Words
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Asiya Wadud

THE DOG GOD


for Soleil

Some say the dog god infinite empire. Some say turn the same stone until the work is done. Some say burnish the dog god against a slick cutting stone. Some say wait until each stone is turned. Some suns light others too much, some need it urgent, some just yearn, some say the dog god lurks infinite pyre. Some say Titus when the milk is gone, some need the dog god when the laughing days are done, some yoke the lambent sun, some yearn. Some express simulacrum. Some urgent plovers alight their burden. Some crest fetid carrion when the dog god comes meek. Some take for granted the just, able sun.
Some flex currency at the dog god summit, some commit to knowing when the matte waters reign calm. Some protect a knowing that rises from the bones and the dog god, the dog god the home.
But the good living ones and the bevy between us and they nurture and they frequent and they stoke the new flame and their urgency for mere gods does justice just the same and the good gods the small gods the robbed gods keep us and the bevy gives shadow to the good gods among us.

__________________________________

Asiya Wadud: “I teach second grade and last Thursday a student said, again and again, ‘Tomorrow is going to be very different from today, tomorrow is going to be very different from today.’ This student is seven years old and the only president she’s ever known is Barack Obama. I wrote this as a reminder that there are always good gods among us, even when dog gods reign.”

AnonymousBystander
AnonymousBystander
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David Berman (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_Berman_(musician)) ...

... was a poet as well as a musician.  He has a poetry collection called Actual Air (https://opencity.org/books/actual-air) ... since this isn't readily available, find below one of his song lyrics ...

That's Just the Way That I Feel

Well, I don't like talkin' to myself
But someone's gotta say it, hell
I mean, things have not been going well
This time I think I finally fucked myself
You see, the life I live is sickening
I spent a decade playing chicken with oblivion
Day to day, I'm neck and neck with giving in
I'm the same old wreck I've always been

And when I see her in the park
It barely merits a remark
How we stand the standard distance
Distant strangers stand apart

Course I've been humbled by the void
Much of my faith has been destroyed
I've been forced to watch my foes enjoy
Ceaseless feasts of schadenfreude
And as the pace of life keeps quickening
Beneath the bitching and the bickering
When I try to drown my thoughts in gin
I find my worst ideas know how to swim

Well, a setback can be a setup
For a comeback if you don't let up
But this kind of hurtin' won't heal
And the end of all wanting
Is all I've been wanting
And that's just the way that I feel

I met failure in Australia
I fell ill in Illinois
I nearly lost my genitalia
To an anthill in Des Moines
I was so far gone in Fargo
South Dakota got annoyed
That's the shit I'm talkin' 'bout
When I talk to you about
Ceaseless feasts of schadenfreude

And a setback can be a setup
For a comeback if you don't let up
But this kind of hurtin' won't heal
And the end of all wanting
Is all I've been wanting
The end of all wanting
Is all I've been wanting
The end of all wanting
Is all I've been wanting
And that's just the way that I feel

Jade-Pandora
Jade-Pandora
jade tiger
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Ocean Vuong

Aubade with Burning City


South Vietnam, April 29, 1975: Armed Forces Radio played Irving Berlin’s “White Christmas” as a code to begin Operation Frequent Wind, the ultimate evacuation of American civilians and Vietnamese refugees by helicopter during the fall of Saigon.


            Milkflower petals on the street
                                                     like pieces of a girl’s dress.

May your days be merry and bright ...

He fills a teacup with champagne, brings it to her lips.
            Open, he says.
                                        She opens.
                                                      Outside, a soldier spits out
            his cigarette as footsteps
                            fill the square like stones fallen from the sky. May all
                                         your Christmases be white
as the traffic guard
            unstraps his holster.

                                        His hand running the hem
of  her white dress.
                            His black eyes.
            Her black hair.
                            A single candle.
                                        Their shadows: two wicks.

A military truck speeds through the intersection, the sound of children
                                        shrieking inside. A bicycle hurled
            through a store window. When the dust rises, a black dog
                            lies in the road, panting. Its hind legs
                                                                                   crushed into the shine
                                                       of a white Christmas.

On the nightstand, a sprig of magnolia expands like a secret heard
                                                                      for the first time.

The treetops glisten and children listen, the chief of police
                                facedown in a pool of Coca-Cola.
                                             A palm-sized photo of his father soaking
                beside his left ear.

The song moving through the city like a widow.
                A white ...    A white ...    I’m dreaming of a curtain of snow

                                                          falling from her shoulders.

Snow crackling against the window. Snow shredded

                                           with gunfire. Red sky.
                              Snow on the tanks rolling over the city walls.
A helicopter lifting the living just out of reach.

            The city so white it is ready for ink.

                                                     The radio saying run run run.
Milkflower petals on a black dog
                            like pieces of a girl’s dress.

May your days be merry and bright. She is saying
            something neither of them can hear. The hotel rocks
                        beneath them. The bed a field of ice
                                                                                 cracking.

Don’t worry, he says, as the first bomb brightens
                             their faces, my brothers have won the war
                                                                       and tomorrow ...
    
                                             The lights go out.

I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming ...    
                                                            to hear sleigh bells in the snow ...   


In the square below: a nun, on fire,
                                            runs silently toward her god — 

                           Open, he says.
                                                         She opens.

_______________________________

Born in Saigon in 1988, poet and editor Ocean Vuong was raised in Hartford, Connecticut, and earned a BA at Brooklyn College (CUNY). In his poems, he often explores transformation, desire, and violent loss.

In 2014, Vuong was awarded a Ruth Lilly and Dorothy Sargent Rosenberg Poetry fellowship from the Poetry Foundation. He received a Whiting Award in 2016 and a MacArthur fellowship in 2019. He is the former managing editor of Thrush Press and currently lives in the Pioneer Valley of Massachusetts, where he is on faculty in the MFA program at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst.

Jade-Pandora
Jade-Pandora
jade tiger
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OCEAN VUONG

A Little Closer to the Edge

Young enough to believe nothing
will change them, they step, hand-in-hand,

into the bomb crater. The night full
of  black teeth. His faux Rolex, weeks

from shattering against her cheek, now dims
like a miniature moon behind her hair.

In this version the snake is headless — stilled
like a cord unraveled from the lovers’ ankles.

He lifts her white cotton skirt, revealing
another hour. His hand. His hands. The syllables

inside them. O father, O foreshadow, press
into her — as the field shreds itself

with cricket cries. Show me how ruin makes a home
out of  hip bones. O mother,

O minutehand, teach me
how to hold a man the way thirst

holds water. Let every river envy
our mouths. Let every kiss hit the body

like a season. Where apples thunder
the earth with red hooves. & I am your son.

________________________________

Born in Saigon in 1988, poet and editor Ocean Vuong was raised in Hartford, Connecticut, and earned a BA at Brooklyn College (CUNY). In his poems, he often explores transformation, desire, and violent loss.

In 2014, Vuong was awarded a Ruth Lilly and Dorothy Sargent Rosenberg Poetry fellowship from the Poetry Foundation. He received a Whiting Award in 2016 and a MacArthur fellowship in 2019. He is the former managing editor of Thrush Press and currently lives in the Pioneer Valley of Massachusetts, where he is on faculty in the MFA program at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst.

Jade-Pandora
Jade-Pandora
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Daryl Jones

QUOTIDIAN


How the word stands out, ironically,
in everyday speech, as if you’d found
on the vinyl seat beside you
in a busy Italian restaurant
a length of four-inch, corrugated,
black plastic drainpipe, an object
commonplace, certainly,
in the whirring and jackhammering din
of an urban construction site, but startling
amid the clattering crockery and garlicky aroma
of Luigi’s Little Italy.
But then, let’s say, you begin to find
lengths of black plastic drainpipe
in the back seat of your car, under
your desk in the office, at the bottom
of your closet and under your bed.
Then you notice one beside the anchor’s desk
on the evening news, in a photo of politicians
on the front page of the paper.
Soon the startling is quotidian.
It no longer surprises or troubles you.
It’s just black plastic drainpipe, you say.
Everyone sees it. Everyone carries it around.
__________________________________

Daryl Jones: “This is a response to a an opinion column by CNN reporter Stephen Collinson, who describes Donald Trump’s actions of the past week, his weaponization of the Presidency, the normalization of his egregious behavior, and the widespread complacency in the face of such unprecedented conduct. This is how democracies are lost.”

Jade-Pandora
Jade-Pandora
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Jackleen Holton

A HARD LUMP


sprung up on the right side of my neck
so I went to the doctor, who patted around
the mass, told me it was probably nothing, a cluster
of pissed-off cells, a mini-revolt.
I started to say the word I feared.
No, he said, probably not that, but we’ll run some tests.
Just as I thought, he told me after the needle biopsy,
the CT scan, just a minor populist bloc.
In fact, it looks smaller than before.
Go home, rest. Then we’ll do another scan.
And after that, because it had begun to throb,
a little fist just under my jugular vein,
I said I think it wants to do me in, but he shook
his head, and then he cut me, pulled out the bloody
lump and sewed me back up. I went numb.
He told me I might not feel anything
for about a year. I tried to speak but my voice
came out like a weak wind.
After they biopsied it, he called to say
that it was after all the thing I’d feared,
and that there were surely more pockets
of fascist cells. He said we have to go into battle,
we’ll use this agent we found in the war.
I said I had to think about it. He said don’t think too long.
I went home and cried until a sleep like death
came and covered me, and a god I didn’t know
if I believed in held me in her arms
and whispered you have to love it,
but I knew I already did because it had broken me
open, sent my roots down, it gathered my friends
around me, and we wove a shawl
of prayers. And I said Jesus, and she nodded
even though that’s not her full name. And I said America,
that’s what I call my body sometimes,
we have to love ourself now, we can’t go back
again, we must use this to grow into something
so much greater than we’ve ever been.

__________________________________

Jackleen Holton: “John Dean said to President Nixon during the Watergate scandal: ‘We have a cancer within—close to the presidency, that’s growing. It’s growing daily. It’s compounding.’ In the week following Trump’s acquittal by senate Republicans, it is more apparent than ever that the cancer on this presidency has compounded and continues to spread throughout our republic.”

Jade-Pandora
Jade-Pandora
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Anthony Tao

CORONAVIRUS IN CHINA



I. Coronavirus in the Neighborhood

We smiled through facemasks,
said hello with our brows,
held open doors

to remind each other
we were still here. Miss Chen the grocer
was gone, back to her hometown.

Old Li the barber was gone,
along with his radio. Zhou the locksmith
only left a phone number, Min absconded

with her cherished regrets, and
the Zhang family, who made flatbread,
never returned: Gone

for the new year
, the sign
on their door read.
Those of us still here

nodded knowingly, sidestepped
couriers zipping down our alleys
on our way to Tang’s noodle shop.

The sky is nice, we grunted. The air clean.
We were surrounded by kindness that barely
seemed real. Our throats itched for coal

and tar. Whatever else we craved,
of insurrection or speaking truth
to bureaucracy, whatever small

bonuses we desired for ourselves
or ailments we nursed, of anger
or temperatures, we did it indoors.

We pulled our curtains and waited
until the kettle screeched, then said
exactly what we had always wanted.
 

II. Coronavirus in the Streets

The viruses had first and last names
until there were too many to count.
We grafted masks onto their faces

and by that point, what did names
matter? We locked them in
boxes, sealed those boxes within

larger boxes built in ten days. But
still they leaked out into the streets,
confused, bumping randomly

into people who could not see.
Watch for them, we whispered,
but to us they all looked

the same. We practiced saying
plague, a fun word, and some of us
wished for it, because why not. Alas,

it was hard to overcome our hardwiring,
animal instinct to survive even
if we knew we were doomed.

We stalked the side alleys with déjà vu
feeling we’d done this before, back
in another lifetime—spying

on neighbors, reporting family,
mantis arms and wheels of history,
misery enforced as baseline.

In a way, we are all the same disease.
To survive humans, you have to give up
humanity—so says the tyrant within.

Our lungs cracked like sheet ice. Breath
whistled through our veins like steam. We searched
for sickness, but there was only sharpness, like guilt.
 

III. Coronavirus in the Bedroom

The virus watched, nose pressed
against the window, but the lovers
didn’t notice, they rolled like bonobos, shaking

the bed. We heard through our walls,
which means they could hear us, too,
shaking in ways animals can,

forgetting—forgiving—our limbs, our
organs, all the ways our rococo parts
can thrash, can work toward climax, can spoil,

omphalos of all the worlds where we
exist, our vigor omnidirectional.
On the other side, our other neighbor

pounded on the wall. Damn
him
, we thought, could he not
take it up with the virus, out there?

Of course, we knew we were being
unfair. The virus was here to stay.
We could sense it even now, lonely

virus shivering in the cold,
eyes alit upon the ecstasy unfolding,
time and everything stopped, its breath

fogging up our window, trying to leave
a reminder, its mouth curled in an O,
shouting Ooh-la-la. And, Bravo!
 

IV. Coronavirus in the Imperial Garden

The virus is an enemy that fights without rules
but it lacks resolve. It lacks country.

We speak this way inside the Imperial Garden

in the Office of Epidemic Prevention
and Control to remind the people
who is in control—of who has not

abandoned them, who can lift fog,
move mountains and rivers.
What would you sacrifice for your home,

which is your country? We will discipline failures
on a pillar of shame. We will stay upbeat.

We spared a thought for the city besieged

in the province of one thousand lakes;
we heard a man leapt off Simen Gate bridge,
but truth is what we say. The poet says

truth is what’s proclaimed before judgment,
but what does it matter? The good doctor
died despite believing. We do not believe—

we know how the system works, how numbers
are reported, what newscasters mean when they
stipulate faith in the Ultimate Arbiter.

“Do you understand?” is a rhetorical question.
Would you choose People over people,
country over self, Party over family?


We tore down mahjong parlors, demanded
whereabouts, asked others to set an example,
maintain distance, sleep in separate beds.

Be patriotic. At home, our real homes, we huddled
closer than before. We feared if—when—we came
out of this, they would see clearer than ever.
 

V. Coronavirus in the Air

Masks. Wearing them,
we were more aware
of the other.

Our eyes locked more often,
for longer, searching for provocation,
gauging interest

down to conjunctiva.
We experimented with sounds,
soughing and snuffling,

and remembered the lessons
our cats and dogs had taught:
ears back, head tilted. We were polite

to those we did not care for,
widening our expressions,
softening our brows

to say we understand the feeling.
But occasionally, next to a body
we leaned toward,

we grimaced with yearning,
with agony and despair that we could not
rip off these masks and laugh

at our poor nerves aflutter. Our gazes
settled on cloudshadow and withy,
old tiles upon rooftops and dragon wings

rippling the pale blue. We saw the ways
we merge with the world, with the air,
taking into our lungs

the trees, the purslane in pavement, the rewards
for being who we are. Magic, we said
to ourselves, forgetting what we were afraid of.


VI. Coronavirus in the Heart

We stopped saying hello.
We infected with caprice, infected
ones we love with doubt,

those we dislike with conviction;
with memories of the gone,
which is an exacting affliction,

afflicted as we are with the same disease;
with misunderstanding,
avoidable if we weren’t simply ourselves;

with truth blasted out like a sneeze
we’d meant to keep in. We sighed
in bed, patted the outline of body next to us,

soothed by the warm hiss of the shower.
The virus was gone, and in those early days
we filled its vacuum with energy and humor;

then with our sense of what is righteous,
trying to infect others. In our purgatory
we had learned what was meant by

“human condition,” and now
we wondered what was worth celebrating.
A triumph for humanity, the news trumpeted

while we questioned if we deserved it.
We leaned away from bodies, stopped
holding doors. We dragged our feet

on office carpets, poured coffee without smelling.
We looked mockingly on those still masked,
forgetting the ways we are infectious.

We walked the streets like sorrowful ghosts.
With two fingers we rubbed our chest,
wondering what was missing.

__________________________________

CONTINUED  vvvv

Jade-Pandora
Jade-Pandora
jade tiger
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( continued )

Anthony Tao: “I live in Beijing, where for the last two weeks I have been trying to write about the topic in all the headlines: the COVID-19 coronavirus epidemic. In truth, I could be responding to any number of news stories I’ve read in the past month, but the one I’ll highlight is a very recent article from the New York Times: ‘To Tame Coronavirus, Mao-Style Social Control Blankets China.’ I most directly address the article’s themes of distrust and Cultural Revolution-style control in my second part, ‘Coronavirus in the Streets.’ But the New York Times only got it half right: In my experience, the people I’ve encountered—including police, neighborhood volunteers, etc.—have gone out of their way to be nicer than before, more courteous, patient, and respectful. I try to capture this sense of camaraderie in the first part, ‘Coronavirus in the Neighborhood.’ I also want to include some notes for the fourth part, ‘Coronavirus in the Imperial Garden,’ written from the perspective of someone within China’s central government (‘Imperial Garden’ is a reference to Zhongnanhai, equivalent to China’s White House). The ‘Do you understand’ line is a question Dr. Li Wenliang was asked, in the early days of the outbreak, by Wuhan police: ‘We hope that you can calm down and earnestly reflect … If you are stubborn, refuse to repent, and continue to carry out illegal activities, you will be punished by the law! Do you understand?’ All Dr. Li had done was compare this new, as-yet unidentified disease with the 2003 SARS outbreak, which remains a politically sensitive subject in China. The public was outraged after Li himself died of the coronavirus. From that same part, the lines ‘We do not believe’ and ‘truth is what’s proclaimed before judgment’ are both in reference to Bei Dao’s most famous poem, ‘The Answer,’ which became a rally cry for an entire generation of idealistic young Chinese—who remained skeptical and hopeful and good until the aftermath of the 1989 student demonstrations at Tiananmen.”

Josh
Josh
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Portugal
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Elma Mitchell, 1919-2000. An Scottish born poet who worked for the BBC as a librarian and published later on in life. Rarely gave poetry readings.



THIS POEM …

This poem is dangerous: it should not be left
Within reach of children, or even of adults
Who might swallow it whole, with possibly
Undesirable side-effects. If you come across
An unattended, unidentified poem
In a public place, do not attempt to tackle it
Yourself. Send it (preferably in a sealed container)
To the nearest centre of learning, where it will be rendered
Harmless, by experts. Even the simplest poem
May destroy your immunity to human emotions.
All poems must carry a Government warning. Words
Can seriously affect your heart.



Josh
Josh
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Portugal
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Reginald Arkell, 1881-1959. Arkell was a script writer for the BBC, comic novelist, and writer of many musical plays. He wrote play version of a very popular book at the time "1066 and All That". He also wrote a series of 4 books of light verse on gardening, of which "Green Fly" is one I remember my mother reciting when I was a child. I found the book it came from while I was clearing out the house after she died



GREEN FLY

Of every single garden pest,
I think I hate the green fly best
My hate for him is stern and strong:
I've hated him both loud and long.
Since I first met him in the Spring
I've hated him like anything.

There was one green fly, I recall:
I hated him the most of all.
He sat upon my finest rose,
And put his finger to his nose.
Then sneered, and turned away his head
To bite my rose of royal red.

Next day I noticed, with alarm,
That he had started out to charm
A lady fly, as green in hue
As all the grass that ever grew.
He wooed, he won: she named the night -
And gave my rose another bite.

Ye gods, quoth I, if this goes on,
Before another week has gone,
These two will propagate their kind
Until one morning I will find
A million green fly on my roses,
All with their fingers to their noses.

I made a fire, I stoked it hot
With all the rubbish I had got:
I picked the rose of royal red
Which should have been their bridal bed;
And on the day they twain were mated
They also were incinerated.



Josh
Josh
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An up-dated A-Z of poems (nearly 300) posted on Poetry Swap Meet, now covering the first 20 pages. It is posted in two halves due to the restriction of 8,000 characters per posting. This one A-K ... and L-Z should follow on. The previous A-Z was on page:13, now deleted.
Sorry, but I don't know how to get the page numbers to align.


ACHTERBERG, Brady   Trips to Hell and What I Found There      9
AGBAAKIN, O-Jeremiah   The Book of revelation            10
AGBAAKIN, O-Jeremiah   Ode to David’s Ennui (or Land of Babel -II)      14
ALI, Muhammed      He Took a Few Cups of Love            18
ALVI, Moniza         I would like to be a Dot in a Painting by Miró      9
ANDERSON, Chris      Misreading Darwin               12
ANDERSON, Chris      Living the Chemical Life            14
ANON            (? Afgan Landay - A Saying ?)         12
ARCHPOET         The Confession of Golias            5
ARKELL, Reginald      Green Fly                  20
ARMITAGE, Simon      Sloth                     9
ARMITAGE, Simon      Zoom!                     13
ARTAUD, Antonin      Dark Poet                  8
AZZOUNI, Jody      Killing its Parents               14

BACA, Jimmy         Celebrate                  6
BALWIT, Devon      Jew                     8
BARACA, Amiri      A Poem for Speculative Hipsters         7
BARGEN, Walter      Lunacy (for Robert Bly)            8
BAVETTA, Ruth      Critical Mass                  17
BEACH, Judi.K      Tomato and Knife               16
BEAL, Scott         Feats of Pain and Daring            14
BEBAN, Richard      My Grandmother told us Jokes         11
BELL, Heather      Love Poem                  9
BELL, Heather      Crayola has a Contest to Name its New Colour Blue   16
BELL, Marvin         White Clover                  10
BELL, Meghan      Where do People go, when you close your Eyes   11
BERMAN, David      That’s Just The Way I Feel            20
BERRYMAN, John      Dream Song 4                  8
BERRYMAN, John      The Dispossessed               8
BESTARD, Nicole      Ortolan                  12
BHATTACHARJEE, Manash   Kashmire, Kashmir               13
BICKHAM, Katie      The Blades                  10
BIDART, Frank      Hunger for the Absolute            7
BLAKE, William      The Tyger                  1
BLAUNER, Laurie      Peculiar Crimes               10
BOWERS, Susanne      Childhood Journey               8
BRESNER, Catherine      Canvasser                  13
BROOKS, Gwendolyn   An Aspect of Love, Alive in the Ice and Fire      7
BROWN, Nickole      To those who were our first Gods: An Offering   9
BRUCE, Mark.C      The Pompeiian Couple            16
BUKOWSKI, Charles      Death Wants More Death            1
BUKOWSKI, Charles      Eat Your Heart out               1

CALLAN, Patricia      Clerking at the Ideal Library            12
CARLSON-WEE, Anders   Where I’m At                  11
CENDOYA, Gerardo      Creationism                  6
CHINN, McKenzie      You Don’t Look Like Someone         10
CLIFT, Liz         At the Edge of the Hennessey Farm         10
COHEN, Bruce      The Jerry Lewis Telethon            9
COHEN, Leonard      Hallelujah                  4
COHEN, Leonard      You want it darker               4
COLLINS, Billy      Purity                     1
COLLINS, Billy      Reading Myself to Sleep            2
COLONA, Sarah      From One Sarah To Another            11
COOLIDGE, Clark      Leafing the Book on Rocky Feathers         9
CORRIGAN, Paul.T      You Moved Your Whole Town            15
COYLE, Elizabeth      Hoe To Talk About Guns In America         12
CRANE, Hart         The Broken Tower               7
CUEVAS COB, Briceida   (Parts IV & V of a longer poem)         12

DALEY, Victor         Brunette                  4
DARWISH, Mahmoud      Lesson from the Kama Sutra            11
DAVIS, T.S         The Gravedigger Thinks Of            18
DE ANDRADE, Eugénio   Goats                     1
DEAN, James         Ode to a Tijuana Toilet            5
DELURY, Anna      Breathing Lesson               16
DENBY, Edwin      Adjoining Entrances to Office Buildings in Renaissance Styles   1
DENNIS< Felix      Snakeskin Boots               17
DEV SEN, Nabaneeta   The Appointment               5
DHARKER, Imtiaz      The Right Word               15
DHUGA, Umit Singh      The Three degrees               15
DOBYNS, Stephen      Spiritual Chickens               17
DONNE, John         The Flea                  20
DOOLITTLE, Hilda      Hermes of the Ways               9
DWYER, June         Afternoon                  1
DURCAN, Paul      My Beloved compares herself to a Pint of Stout   10

EISENBERG, Danny      Budget Cuts                  14
EMPEROR TENCHI      (Untitled)                  5
ENDURANCE, Jonathan   Aubade in the Boneyard            14
ERIKSON, Susan.J      Ode to Antiques Roadshow            17
ESPADA, Martin      Morir Soñando               17
ESTABROOK, Michael   Grand Illusion                  7
EVANS, Anna         Crash                     7
EVELLY, Jeanmarie      History of a Body               19

FANTHORPE, U.A      Not My Best Side               13
FASANO, Joseph      Hymn                     8
FERNANDEZ, Megan      Why We Drink                  9

GILL, Marjorie Lofti      The Wrong Person to Ask            18
GILLILAND, Raquel Vasquez   The Tale of the Earth               19
GLANGLUN, Amairgen   The Song of Amairgen            1
GLOEGGLER, Tony      Some long Ago Summer            7
GROSSBERG, Benjamin   The Space Traveler’s Moon            12
GU CHENG         Sleeping Soundly in Daytime            4
GUILAR, Liam         A Presentment of Englishry            13

HAINES-STILES, Alexandra   Ten Year Challenge               10
HARVEY, Kim         Sonnet for the Night Shift            8
HEMINGWAY, Ernest      Country Poem with Little Country         5
HEMINGWAY, Ernest      (10 short war poems)               6
HENN, Steve         They Mustache him Some Questions      14
HICOCK, Bob         Going Big                  4
HICOCK, Bob         Things Rich and Multiple and Alone         15
HIRSHFIELD, Jane      Each Moment a White Bull Steps Shining into the World   14
HODGEN, John      Hearing                  16
HOFFMAN, Ruth Cassel   Voice                     16
HOLTON, Jackleen      I’m sad with you               5
HOLTON, Jackleen      A Hard Lump                  20
HUGHES, Langston      Let America be America Again         12
HUGHES, Langston      The Negro Speaks of Rivers            3
HURST, Bethany Schultz   Sweet and Golden Soup            15

JACKSON, Freya      War Film                  17
JACOB, Temidayo      My Mother Dies with her Home         18
JAEGER, Lowell      Fish-Burger and Fries               5
JEFFERS, Robinson      The House Dog’s Grave            1
JEWELL, Susan Carroll   After The Extinction               17
JOHNSON, Brad      They said it was a Weather Balloon         5
JOHNSON, John      The Book go Fly               11
JONES, Daryl         Quotidian                  20
JONKER, Ingrid      Lied Van Die Lappop               10

KAMPA, Courtney      In Charlottesville after Charlottesville         10
KEATS, John         Bright Star                  6
KELBLEY, Sean      The Happy Game               9
KILDEGAARD, Athena   Allurement                  8
KILMER, Joyce      Trees                     19
KIPLING, Rudyard      Mandalay                  11
KIRBY,. David         Little Movies                  13-14
KNIGHT, Etheridge      The Sun Came               2
KNIGHT, Lynne      Disappearing Borders               12
KOCZKUR, Cambra      Dear Senator,                  11
KOMACHI, Ono no      Was I Lost                  1
KROG, Antjie         On My Behalf                  15
KRONENFELD, Judy      Letter to the Ministry of Loneliness         9
KUSSEROW, Adie      After his Death, The Dalai Lama Looks Down on a Yoga Class   15

Josh
Josh
Tyrant of Words
Portugal
34awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 2nd Feb 2017
Forum Posts: 587

Here's L-Z.

LAMÉRIS, Danusha      The Lord God Bird               19
LAO TZU         XXIV                     8
LARKIN, Philip      Afternoons                  1
LARKIN, Philip      No Road                  1
LATHAM, Juliet      Trompe L’oiel                  11
LAVERS, Michael      Will Exult Over You With Loud Singing      10
LE, Jenna (a sonnet crown)   Guzanoz                  13
LENNON, Rayon      Kobe                     19
LEONARD, Thomas      (Excerpt from unknown poem)         10
LEWIS, Lisa         A Questioon About Horses            19
LINDEMANN, Till      Think Broadly                  13
LINDEMANN, Till      So Beautiful                  13
LORCA, Frederico Garciá   Despedida                  1
LORCA, Frederico Garciá   Farewell                  1
LOWELL, Amy      Petals                     8
LOWELL, Robert      Colloquy in Black Rock            2

MacCAIG, Norman      Patriot                     12
MALI, Taylor         The Second Pass               20
MARK, Michael      Jews in the wrong place in San Diego      11
McCLOUGHAN, Mark      (? …All these lathe-Cut ?)            6
McGAVICK, Jack      The Shape of your Elbow            6
McGEE, John         High Flight                  11
MEDER, M.K         Blessing in Disguise               18
MERELLO, Rafael      (Unknown)                  6
MEYERHOFER, Michael   Silver-Backed Chevrotain, with Fangs and Hooves,
            Photographed in Wild for First Time         17
MILLER, Amy         To the Firefighters sleeping in the Yard      7
MILLER, Amy         To Whoever inherits the Earth         11
MITCHELL, Elma      This Poem …                  20
MORRISON, Jim      An American Prayer               3
MORRISON, Jim      Stoned Immaculate               3
MORRISON, Jim      (Untitled)                  3
MURA, David         Frightening Things               13
MURPHY, Peter.E      Grand Fugue                  16
MURRAY, Abby.E      Advent on South Hill               16
MYERS, Jed         American Border Study: Two Bodies in a River   12

NARENDRA, Anoushka   The Anatomy of Endings            16
NERUDA, Pablo      One hundred Love Sonnets: XVII         1

OBUH, Anointing      Don’t You Go                  15
OKAFOR, Chisom      Birthing                  15
OLIVER, Mary         Poppies                  2
OLIVER, Mary         Wild Geese                  3
OLISAKWE, Ukamaka   Slut                     15
OPAIGBEOGU, Chidinma   Afternoon                  17
OPPEN, George      Leviathan                  7
ORIA MOUNTAIN DREAMER  The Invitation               6
ORTOLANI, Al         Yellow Bees                  16
OTSUJI, Derek      The Whale Watchers               14

PANTA, Iustin         How Beautifully Your Fire Burns         17
PATCHEN, Kenneth      As we are so wonderfully done with each other   5
PLATH, Sylvia         The Moon and the Yew Tree            4
POOCHIGIAN, Aaron      Centralia, PA                  17
POUND, Ezra         (Extract from the flyleaf of Pound’s “Cantos”)   9
POUND, Ezra         In a Station of the Metro            2

QUINN, Matt         Ink Blots                  12

RAO, Aarti         Dear Payaswini               14
RATUSHINSKAYA, Irina   I will live and survive               4
REDDY, Pavana      Tirupati                  14
RENFREW, McKenzie   Vague Existence               6
RILEY, James         Three Dead Friends               6
ROL, Alida         Time Travel                  13
ROLLI            Let Us Not Even Dream            17
ROLLINS, Henry      A Moment of Guilt               2
ROLLINS, Henry      Rattus Norvegicus               18

SALAWU, Olajide      Finally, My Grandfather Undid Darkness      15
SCHIELE, Egon      (Untitled)                  5
SEXTON, Anne      Her Kind                  1
SHAKESPEARE, William   (from Titus Andronicus)            2
SHIELDS, Bill         Floorplan to a Lease               5
SHIELDS, Bill         Jingoism                  5
SHIPERS, Carrie      In Preparation for a Visit from our CEO      11
SIMIC, Charles      Gray-Headed Schoolchildren            2
SIMIC, Charles      What the Gypsies Told my Grandmother while
            she was a Young Girl               2
SNYDER         Cormorants                  3
SNYDER, Gary      Mid-August at Sourdough Mountain Lookout      3
SMITH, Patti         Because the Night               4
SMITH, Patti         Edie Sedgewick               4
SMITH, Stevie         BBC Feature Programme on Prostitution      19
STERLING, Meghan      Man Subdues Terrorist with Narwhal Tusk on London Bridge   15
STEVENS, Wallace      Sunday Morning               4
SUN YUNG SHIN      Return of the Native               4
SWIST, Wally         The Ringing of Silence            17

TAO, Anthony         Cornonavirus in China            20
THOMAS, Larry      Steers in Summer, lowing            11
TOLKIEN, J.R.R      He Chanted a Song of Wizardry         18
TORBATNEJAD, Mehrnoosh   Asia                     11
TORO, Vincent      All the Mexicos               10
TOWNSEND, Alison      Persephone Remembers: The Bed         18

UNKNOWN SAXON POET   Deor                     8

VALLEJO, César      Los Heraldos Negros (The Black Heralds)      4
VALVIS, James      Love Poem to my Wife, with Pigeons         6
VAN ROOYEN, Craig      How to swim an Elegy            6
VAN ROOYEN, Craig      Till she appeared and the Soul Selt its Worth   7
VAN ROOYEN, Craig      Waiting in Vain               16
VATSA, Mihir         In the Winter of 2014 We Were always Taking his Name   15
VIDELOCK, Wendy      Sticks and Sky               18
VUONG, Ocean      A Little Closer to the Edge            20
VUONG, Ocean      Aubade with Burning City            20
VUONG, Ocean      On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous         13

WADUD, Asiya      The Dog God                  20
WALLACE, Ronald      Nightline: An Interview with the General      9
WEVELL, David      29                     2
WHITTIER, John      What the Birds Said               4
WILBUR, Richard      Junk                     13
WILDE, Oscar         (A quote on books)               12
WILLIAMS, C.K      The Sanctity                  2
WRIGHT, James      Blessing                  2
WRIGHT, James      You and I saw Hawks Exchanging the Prey      2

YOUNG, Michael.T      The Risk of Listening to Brahms         19

ZEPHANIAH, Benjamin   The British                  12



Kinkpoet
Kinkpoet
Fire of Insight
United States
2awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 9th May 2019
Forum Posts: 344

Wow! Thank you Josh for indexing this for us.

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