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  1. Thread: Self-Doubt

    by miyako73
    Replies
    1
    Views
    700

    Self-Doubt

    On the roadside, I ask the wind
    if I am a poet. A ripe persimmon falls;
    a woman picks it up, blows off
    the dirt; a child smiles. I choke up
    as it murmurs: now write me a tanka.

    ...
  2. Thread: Garbage Love

    by miyako73
    Replies
    3
    Views
    283

    Garbage Love

    Before Brokeback Mountain,
    we had been breaking our backbones
    in the hill of trash;
    you dug for iron scraps,
    while I collected
    every shape of plastic;
    you held onto my ribcage,
    and I leaned...
  3. Replies
    1
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    239

    Outside the Bar

    Her age a secret,
    but she can whistle
    at passersby
    to ask without
    the weighed words,
    to smile
    the pouted price,
    her lips tinged
    but unable
    to articulate it right,
  4. Replies
    3
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    348

    Different Kinds of Afternoon Rain

    A girl, near puberty, by the window
    when the sun wanes at three,
    knows the atmosphere of melancholia,
    the shape of anguish,
    the multiple shades of dejection,
    palpable, wet on her arm.
    ...
  5. Thread: Payment

    by miyako73
    Replies
    4
    Views
    1,268

    Nice one, Dieter.

    Nice one, Dieter.
  6. Thread: The Muse

    by miyako73
    Replies
    1
    Views
    467

    The Muse

    Clicking her disposable lighter to fire up and burn
    the bulbous bottom of the glass pipe, she thought
    of the men shot in the streets and left on the roads
    and those women wrapped in brown packing...
  7. Thread: Poet's Plea

    by miyako73
    Replies
    5
    Views
    3,019

    Thanks, Dream and YesNo.

    Thanks, Dream and YesNo.
  8. Thread: Poet's Plea

    by miyako73
    Replies
    5
    Views
    3,019

    Poet's Plea

    When you see the sky blue and the calm of the ocean,
    remember the grays in the slum, the black in daylight,
    the falling trees, the decomposing, the gutter drying.

    When you smell a scent of May,...
  9. Replies
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    855

    Thank you, Delta.

    Thank you, Delta.
  10. Replies
    2
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    855

    Ode To My Booger

    When I watch
    the fat drops of rain
    hit on the cactus leaf
    facing the bare sky
    and bounce to fall
    from the rough edge
    as if a rejection
    of its stubbornness,
    you
    prod my forefinger,
  11. Replies
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    435

    Catching Wilbur and His Muse

    I clicked inbox,
    saved what came up,
    Word opened it:
    Wilbur's The Catch—
    a strange poem
    about fishing,
    a woman's dress,
    double meanings.

    On the oak chair,
  12. Replies
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    338

    Nightfall in Kyoto

    "Since we're born as humans,
    we should have dreams
    as big as the Pacific Ocean"

    — Sakamoto Ryoma


    Your long sword succeeded. I cried
    without tears for you. You vanished
    the...
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    387

    David Confronting Michelangelo

    Michelangelo is thinking about carving
    a raised mole somewhere, an afterthought.

    My head is just too big,
    yet I can't express my thoughts
    about the eagerness of your hammer
    and the edges of...
  14. Replies
    2
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    954

    Moons of Chagall

    Inside the art gallery
    holding an annual charity event,
    I slowly walked
    from frame to frame,
    my eyes to the moons
    painted in different colors.

    My fingers were fidgeting
    on the stringed Akoya...
  15. Replies
    3
    Views
    777

    Petrarch's Mistress

    In iambic lines
    you describe me
    from head to toe,
    but your volta
    fails to reveal
    who I really am.

    Where's the dance
    of my fingertips,
    the sensuality
  16. Thread: Heteronyms

    by miyako73
    Replies
    0
    Views
    368

    Heteronyms

    Heteronyms



    "The poet is a pretender
    who's so good at his act;
    he even fakes the pain
    of pain he really feels."

    — Fernando Pessoa
  17. Replies
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    448

    In Bed With A Clown

    In Bed With A Clown

    Life is a tragedy when seen in close-up,
    but a comedy in long-shot.

    —Charlie Chaplin



    I picked pinch by pinch
  18. Thread: The Mailman

    by miyako73
    Replies
    3
    Views
    864

    Thank you, Delta. I think you're right. Maybe...

    Thank you, Delta. I think you're right.

    Maybe the second will be for the plumber--hehehehe

    Miyako
  19. Replies
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    764

    Thank you, Bar22do and Tailor. the light (a...

    Thank you, Bar22do and Tailor.

    the light (a poem with that title-Light) in Gitanzali (tagore's poetry book).

    The rest are self-explanatory, i think.

    Miyako
  20. Replies
    3
    Views
    764

    Dreaming of Tagore

    It's all about the light
    coming from the window,
    splits of bamboo,
    left ajar at noon
    for the air,
    the chatters of peacocks,
    the rain,
    the noises of monsoon.

    Am I Urmila
  21. Thread: Isla Azul

    by miyako73
    Replies
    0
    Views
    587

    Isla Azul

    Isla Azul used to be a diamond mining site before the biggest earthquake hit and leveled the island. The tsunami that followed pushed the disintegrating island farther down the sea, and eventually,...
  22. Thread: The Mailman

    by miyako73
    Replies
    3
    Views
    864

    The Mailman

    Right after I finished watching
    this foreign film
    shot somewhere in Italy,
    I thought about you
    and how you cheerfully delivered
    the same letter from State Farm;

    the thank you card from my...
  23. Replies
    10
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    2,056

    this is nice. such a melancholic beauty you...

    this is nice. such a melancholic beauty you paint there.

    I want more.

    Miya
  24. Replies
    0
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    388

    The Poetry of a Mama-san

    Breathing is the secret
    to clearing your thoughts.

    Before anything,
    you pick a name for yourself;
    mine is Pink Blossom.
    It should be about you
    or what you hide,
    something that lures.
    You...
  25. Replies
    21
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    7,222

    wonderful poem, Mr. Hawkman. Is there an...

    wonderful poem, Mr. Hawkman.

    Is there an intent why whilst is used?

    Miyako
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