Poems
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The Or Tree - Chapter 1
By Toby Fitch1
For no-doubt sex in fields of asphodel —
fields watered by strange rivers — Or would steal away -
The Swamp
By Nandi ChinnaWhen the first rains have percolated
through sand and stone,
sponge and bone, and the frogs
have hatched from their tombs of mud -
Blueprint: Bramble Tce
By Zenobia Frost1.
the last time I came here
I didn’t need to break in
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Eleanor Rigby
By Michael FarrellThe Forevers had two undaunted children: Strawberry
and Fields
Red and green was a perfect -
Poetry is 99% Water
By Toby FitchThere are about 1.5 billion cubic kilometres of poems
on the planet. That’s about 1.5 billion trillion litres
or 800 trillion Olympic swimming pools.
If all that poetry was evenly spread over the Earth’s surface -
Kawaii
By Elizabeth Allen1.
Hello Kitty winks up at me from the handkerchief I bought at Narita airport. It is covered in strawberries, teddy bears, hearts.
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Nag-aagaw-buhay
By Ivy AlvarezAh, yes, she’s been here before. Certain smoothness of bed
sheet denotes multiple washings on an institutional scale and
(light yellowed by dust) to be expected. Machines stand by for
her. The nurses are intensively caring. The doctors are caring -
Nagbubuhat ng sariling bangko
By Ivy AlvarezI grow a toe slowly, then a leg, then a bench from the shelf of
my back. Thin as it is, at least it’s upright, a staircase to climb
when it’s time to go. Apropos, I build a piano, pianissimo, from
hair, fingerbones. It’s clear. I have plenty of self to spare. My -
South
By Bella LiOut of whose womb came the ice?
And the hoary frost of Heaven, who hath gendered it?
The waters are hid as with a stone,
And the face of the deep is frozen. -
Nagdaan sa bithay
By Ivy AlvarezThe recipe holds clues. (Home Economics for girls only). Measure flour to sift
into powdered clouds. Measure butter for rubbing in. Double-boiler fits
one into another. Keep certain items at room temperature. “Let’s pre-heat
the oven, ladies.” Mrs D yells over the din. I like to taste success; I hate -