Poetic Medicine

By Annie Freud I am here to welcome you and to help you prepare for what is about to happen. I can see that you're hoping that we...

By Lawrence Raab   Years later they find themselves talking    about chances, moments when...

By Martín Espada The cardiologist prescribed a new medication and lectured my father that he had to stop working. And my father said: ...

By Jane Kenyon A volunteer, a Daughter of the Confederacy, receives my admission and points the way. Here are gray jackets with holes in...

By Elizabeth Alexander Sometimes I think about Great-Uncle Paul who left Tuskegee, Alabama to become a forester in Oregon and in so doing...

By Zachary Schomburg One night, when you return to your childhood home after a lifetime away, you'll find it abandoned. Its pa...

By Christopher Salerno The bakery’s graffiti either spells HOPE or NOPE. But hope and results are different, said Fanny Brawne to her Ke...

By Beah Richards A Black Woman Speaks… Of White Womanhood Of White Supremacy Of Peace It is right that I a woman black, should speak...

those of you who stand for the sanctity of music so that its soul can breathe and be heard so that it blooms in graveyards echoes in hot...

By Naomi Shihab Nye If today you are going to Buda, Texas and the bus rolls into Buda, Texas and stops, you climb down and you are ready ...

By Shazea Quraishi  My father was a bear. He carried me through forest, sky and over frozen sea. At night I lay along his back wrapped ...

By Ronald Clark Come on America, open your eyes And stop the politicians from telling their lies For their families won't come to de...

A found poem from Google by Tania Lombrozo Motherhood is hard Motherhood is lonely Motherhood is a choice Motherhood is magical

By Eve Lyons My spouse is obsessed with Darth Vader. She wanted to get married in her Darth Vader helmet, and I have to keep fighting off ...

By Countee Cullen Once riding in old Baltimore, Heart-filled, head-filled with glee I saw a Baltimorean Keep looking straight at me. ...

By Marge Piercy Sheets of rain slither through the trees rain that looks coherent as tissue paper buckled by the wind but still comin...

By Thomas Sayers Ellis All their fences      All their prisons All their exercises      All their agendas All their stanzas look alike...

By Dick Flavin The long snow-bound winter casts a dark pall Till one day an umpire hollers, “Play ball!” Then skies start to brighten, b...

By A.J. Huffman Another sleepless night hovers, tangles my mind. I try to focus, force ritualistic countings of imaginary sheep. Mine...

By Alice Walker I Sing of Mumia brilliant and strong and of the captivity that few black men escape if they are as free as he...