Photo by Wolfgang Hasselmann / Unsplash.com
Split Fossilfor Willem BoshoffWhen an ancient-rock splits open — trees and skies starkly mirrorthe tec…
Poetry
worldlittoday · Laws are mutating by Vanechkaworldlittoday · “Laws are mutating,” by Vanechka (English Translation by Yana Kane)Laws are mutating. Protests are muted.United ayes sneer at fractious nay…
Photo by diego fabra / Unsplash.com At forty we hate the jobsthat pay our billsthat get us through the month.We claim something called dignitythat feels a lot like sadness.We have jobs and th…
Photo by Museums Victoria / Unsplash.com [And Mama told me]And Mama told me:“I’ll have a broken daughterand I’ll comb her hair with all my teethI’ll show herhow hard it is to put on her shoesand wa…
Photo by Steve Johnson / Unsplash.com It’s like that. Murky awakeningto the stories of others.They give us outlines we’ve to fill in.Bushels full of obstacles.Creation comeswith impediment.When the…
For my student Abdel Salam Qatoush, an eight-year-old boy who lost his leg when his home was struck by a bomb during the war on Gaza Leaning back against the tree,I drifted…
Dreaming of a clear sky, unmarred by airplanes.Of clouds observing their own reflection in the windows’ tears.An innocent day: no news of dead friends in the mail.Of a home, and a guest, and a sun tha…
Good morning, World,I’m there — I mean, I’m here,yes, that’s right, in Gaza!A moment ago I was screaming under ash and rubble —A final missile sent me vaulting up your wayand now I’ll inform you of wh…
I’m made to drink from the strumming of autumninebriatedand so I seethe sorrow of housesthe ashes of Gazathe triangle of our loveI see it, they wronged ita living nightmareand so I praythe prayer of d…
Gaza and Other ThingsThe night sky is a copper-orange sphere.Is this Gaza?Or a newly discovered planet — wilder, untamed?My imagination, once pure, now runs rampant. I let it wander through corridors…
O Genocide,Wear my clothes,Take my formAnd my desires.Take my flat feetAnd my limping walk.Live my love storiesAnd my shyness.Befriend thoseWithout enough timeAnd attach to them deeplyWake early, as I…
If you were mine,In tears, I shall bloomIn fears, I must resistTraitors would be faithfulIf you were mine,Within the lost fields of timewould I bloom?With fear of losing timeMy sin will descend from d…
On a pale coldwinter’s nightthe tents sleepbitter in mouthand heart.With subdued soundrunning after an escaping sun,they remove their morning dressoff bodiespatched with jokesand painful laughter.The…
This is methat little girl in pomegranate clotheskneeling at the door of a burning tentcrawling over fireSmearing my faceCovered in dust from the rubbleGathered in my palm the remnants of a dry loaf,i…
I have two feet, for walking the streets, on the beach, for running madly with my friends, and into my lover’s arms when we meetNot for running away from death . . . every day.I have fingers, for feel…
From the Capital in Transition series by Ravi Agarwal / raviagarwal.com / Reproduced by permission of the artist AsvatthaYou’ve taken your name literally:Asvattha: under w…
Photo by Manas Mistry / Alamy.com SahibiI am a fleck of shine, a shardof fin. My mouth, a parchmentdarting slick. They tell me I cannot liveunder this viscid film, but II do and I dream. I was ciph…
Every time we lay claim to something, we fall into the yarns of loss. Don’t let the pretense of ownership run away with you. Weak parts, like arms and legs, can so easily disappear. It just takes the…
Mark Bradford’s Scorched Earth uses a blacked-out map to visually represent the destruction of “Black Wall Street” in Tulsa, Oklahoma, during the 1921 race massacre. This powerful artwork s…
Photo of Safia Elhillo byMaiwenn Raoult / maiwennraoult.com after Frank O’Harait’s 1 a.m. in los angeles & i am tryingto finish this after putting off all dayfirst to meet mo at the ca…
Illustration by katyau / Stock.adobe.com the dance you dancers with painted faces— bury your heads in shame, silence those roaring bongo drums around the blazing fires of burning ince…
Photo by Eugene_Photo / Stock.adobe.com 霜降之日 这是秋天最后一个节气 所有美好的东西都在过去 瓦上的霜印上了鸟的花纹 我还在写诗，没有在意这一生即将过完 桥上的薄霜留不下什么痕迹就已消失 深夜的火车从玄武湖那边 越过黑黝黝的紫金山顶传过来 草丛间秋…
Sandro Botticelli, La mappa dell’Inferno, ca. 1480–90, Vatican Library / Wikimedia [Midway upon the journey] midway upon the journey of our life I found myself within an endless war well…
This project grew from a conversation with Kim Stafford during the Oregon Society of Translators and Interpreters conference, “Words = A Pathway to Peace.” We decided to send a poem for peace around t…
October 21, 2025
September 04, 2025
August 13, 2025
