Contemporary Poetry


CANTO POR LA VIDA: Poemas desde el borde del ser (Edición íntegra en lengua española / 2025) (SONG FOR LIFE) (Spanish Edition)
Citizen: An American Lyric
Calling a Wolf a Wolf
Night Sky with Exit Wounds
Milk and honey
Time Is a Mother
Don’t Let Me Be Lonely: An American Lyric
Wade in the Water: Poems
The Wild Iris
What the Living Do: Poems
Call Us What We Carry
Postcolonial Love Poem
Deaf Republic
Whereas
Look: Poems
Storage Shed by Rich MurphyMy Heart Is Not Asleep by Thomas A.  ThomasVerses of a Poet Who Didn't Know It by Thomas KudlaThe Harp-Weaver and Other Poems by Edna St. Vincent MillayThe Canterbury Tales by Geoffrey Chaucer
Poetry I can't put down
33 books — 32 voters
where does love go by Tom MurphyTwo Minutes to Everything by H.W. CummingMy Heart Is Not Asleep by Thomas A.  ThomasA Conceptual Circus by Kenneth Jarrett SingletonThe Dust of Us by Michelle Boske
Contemporary American Poetry
346 books — 121 voters

Filing Order by John DelaneyVerses of a Poet Who Didn't Know It by Thomas KudlaInstructions, Abject & Fuming by Julianna BaggottPersephone in America by Alison TownsendLizzie Borden in Love by Julianna Baggott
Crab Orchard Series in Poetry
86 books — 18 voters
The Princess Saves Herself in This One by Amanda LovelaceThe Collected Poems by Sylvia PlathThe Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson by Emily DickinsonHow We Became Human by Joy HarjoAnd Still I Rise by Maya Angelou
Poetry by Women
470 books — 113 voters

Laura Chouette
The pale blue evening light of fading shadows crashes violently against the hill behind the town—facing radical orange and poisoned greens. It steams upward against a bluish sky that has swallowed every cloud in this modern summer May.
Laura Chouette, The Willow Song

The streets are still there, coloured by dark music, and the crumbling roofs beneath which lives flow full of northern winds. My shadow is still there too: light as a girl’s dream of hazel-coloured eyes, heavy as a woman’s step towards the execution ground of the past. In the embrace of eternal November this city has gone blind from silence that resembles last year’s snow, and, pacing in place, it waits in vain for May, killed by the hand of a friend from some other, warmer life.
Sandra Džananović , Walking On The Land Of Dead Brothers

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