Poems
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The Mulberry Grove
By Lyrikline Collaboration PoetsBy Gonca Ozmen
Translated by Alice Melike Ülgezer and Özlem Özmetin.
Come towards the mulberry grove -
"Thoughts spoken out loud..."
By Martin HarrisonThoughts spoken out loud
breath impelled below in the tidal estuary, in the river
in crevice and crevasse both in delight and light
by love and longing desire’s invisible fibre -
I Smell Buffalo in Cambodia
By Adam Aitkenafter Tomaž Šalamun
I smell buffalo in Cambodia, ruins in Angkor.
I had come from a rich disinfected nation
to one overflowing with frozen steaks -
Rugged up winter scene
By Lyrikline Collaboration PoetsBy Nicolas Born
Translated by Marty Hiatt.
I feel nothing and move through silent motorcades.
The world is wrapped in golden paper. -
For Pasolini
By Lyrikline Collaboration PoetsBy Nicolas Born
Translated by Sam Langer.
In the dream Pasolini came up to me
in a starring role. -
'
By Michael Farrell[from Codas]
this is cinema made by people
shuffling in gumboots & suggests
the divines become an apostrophe -
Your Terrorist
By Ali AlizadehYou call me a barbarian.
I call you master.
You don’t speak my language.
My words -
Rilke Renditions: IV
By Chris EdwardsSo, it’s like that, is it? I’d been trotting awhile with the Atum,
whose words are not normally meant for me, and had at last become
privy to certain errors concerning my Wang — quite a tall one,
if he’d hinted correctly. So I say … uh … -
The Slide
By Jill JonesSometimes they put you in seas
or rivers without telling you.
The river is dark, let’s say
and trees are low over you. -
A DESCRIPTION OF THE STORM GLASS AND BRIEF GUIDE TO ITS USE IN FORECASTING WEATHER
By Lisa GortonI
A sealed dome of glass where crystals,
by an alchemy ‘more precise than precision’, unmake
and make still grottoes that recede -
Evening Star
By Ali AlizadehThis happened to me. 1994: She radiated
like a celestial, perusing the pages
to unnerve me. Was I so positive
of money as an imperative? She closed -
burrito weather
By Michael Farrelli had a burrito once
on the sidewalk in echo park
the weather was warm, & the burrito
was as fresh as a strungout mouth. -
Midnight
By Lyrikline Collaboration PoetsBy Fadhil Al Azzawi
Translated by Zeina Issa
Obscure screams passed through the door’s key hole. Shadows of soldiers with rifles on an olive coloured
wall. At midnight the guard came, he called out a few names. They shivered with fear. He said “Come”. -
Freedom a la Chinoise
By Ouyang YuNowhere is one so free in a country like this
When you open a toilet door, as I did this noon, next to the staff
Canteen, you see a pile of shit, reaching the top of the seat
The one who shat could blame the mechanism for not flushing -
The Sinking of the Titanic First Canto
By Lyrikline Collaboration PoetsBy Hans Magnus Enzensberger
Translated by Peter Lach-Newinsky
Someone is listening. He is waiting. He is holding
his breath, very close by, -
ROOM AND BELL
By Lisa Gorton‘This morning unexpectedly, sorting through a box of toys, I found that brass bell which stood beside my bed through all that childhood illness, and which, though I had long since forgotten it, kept still the power of summoning people to my room…’
I
A bland, small room – nothing about it accounts for the feelings that it lodged in me. Not the built-… -
Postcards 1-6
By Margaret WestEclipse
Here on the hill / under a lunate sliver / blood oranges framed by
the brow’s determined wings / summon splintered glass / broken
limbs // I hear you crow . . . and crow . . . and crow / place on your -
I Know How to be in Love
By Lyrikline Collaboration PoetsBy Mohammad Hossein Abedi
Translated by Laetitia Nanquette and Ali Alizadeh
I know how to be in love, -
A Clown
By Lyrikline Collaboration PoetsBy Jacques Roubaud
Translated by Claire Nashar.
I knew him, you see, infinite jester, -
Horror Tuesday
By Lyrikline Collaboration PoetsBy Nicolas Born
Translated by Marty Hiatt.
The dormant
