Poetic Medicine

By Dylan Thomas Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the...

By Anne Haines This poem cannot bring you back. This poem cannot make the clouds move more quickly or slowly in the sky, cannot chan...

By Satyanshu Singh and Devanshu Singh Let love be my right, No longer a crime Accept us as your own, It’s the call of our times. P...

By Abdul Razaq Al-Rubaiee Tomorrow the war will have a picnic: Decorate the hospitals with medicines, bandages And sharp lancets. Tomo...

By Carl Sesar, loosely translating the original poem by the Roman poet Catullus Up your ass and in your mouth Aurelius, you too, Furius, y...

Dedicated to all temporary workers By Barbara Berg First they bust the union Then they bust my ass In Temporary America Don't wan...

By Martín Espada I have noticed that the hostess in peasant dress, the wait staff and the boss share the complexion of a flour tortilla....

By Robinson Jeffers The old voice of the ocean, the bird-chatter of little rivers, (Winter has given them gold for silver To stain their...

By Katie Heim If my vagina was a gun, you would stand for its rights, You would ride on buses and fight all the fights. If my vagina was...

By David Trinidad   for Nick Twemlow It’s annoying how much junk mail comes through the slot & accumulates at the foot of the...

By Brittney Corrigan Wait Mister. Which way is home? They turned the light out and the dark is moving in the corner. – Anne Sexton, “Mu...

By Nikki Giovanni (for Maya Angelou) At times like this We measure our words Because we are Measuring a life A friend ...

By Terrance Hayes Fred Sanford’s on at 12 I’m standing in the express lane (cash only) about to buy Head & Shoulders the white peop...

By Rachel Hadas When my son was a few weeks old, replicas of his yawning face appeared suddenly on drowsy passersby: middle-aged man’s...

By Maya Angelou You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust,...

By Eve Lyons I remember waiting.  I remember calling the Target in Little Rock to reserve a car seat. I remember taking on the phone wit...

By Roald Dahl The crocodile, with cunning smile, sat in the dentist's chair. He said, "Right here and everywhere my teeth requir...

By Rumi Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I will meet you there. When the soul lies down in that grass, ...

By Noelle Kocot Saturn seems habitual, The way it rages in the sky When we’re not looking. On this note, the trees still sing To me, a...

By Simon Armitage I write in praise of air. I was six or five
 when a conjurer opened my knotted fist
 and I held in my palm the whole o...