Search

Poetry Breakfast

Beginning March 20th, 2016 Poetry Breakfast will once again serve a little poetic nourishment every morning. Start your day with our new expanded menu. Poems, of course, are our specialty. But we will also be serving a fuller menu that includes poetry related creative non-fiction such as letters to and from poets, essays on poetry, and anything else that might feed a poet and poetry lover’s soul.

Tag

Daily Poetry

I Know – A Poem by James Diaz

I Know

I know how much faith can be lost
that you can die
without any ink ever spilled
in your name
i know some things you just cannot come back from
i know that the brink has many ledges
to stand and fall off of
head first, like your birth into this world
i know forgiveness
is the face in the mirror
that looks away
i know where you’re calling from
that payphone by the highway that they took out years ago
i know if you’ve never made bail
you don’t really know what uncertainty is like
i know saying i’m powerless in a room full of strangers doesn’t make it so
how no alley way is only shadows but what those shadows represent
that the stuffing can be pulled out of you so young
you are this things they have no name for
missing buttons, chewed off paw
and a smile that masks a lot of darkness
i know.

 

About the Poet:  James Diaz is the founding editor of the literary arts & music journal Anti-Heroin Chic http://heroinchic.weebly.com/. His poems can be found in Quail Bell Magazine, HIV Here & Now, Foliate Oak and Ditch. His debut book of poems, This Someone I Call Stranger, is forthcoming from Indolent Books (2018).

 

Poetry Breakfast accepts submissions of poetry and poetry related creative non-fiction year-round.  See our Submission Guidelines page for details on submitting your work.

Start your morning with a nourishing poem.  Follow us on  Twitter, Facebook, and  Tumblr,  and enjoy a new poem every morning straight to your feed.

Advertisements

Maple Sap and Rosewater – A Poem by Adrian Slonaker

Maple Sap and Rosewater

King crimson maple tree branches
dangling behind my back
behind your back,
sap speckling the park bench, rivaling this afternoon’s raindrops.
How long has the King reigned here?
Thirty years? Fifty years?

Will you beautify my life for as long as this tree has beautified this spot?
It’s pointless to conjecture.
Why dwell on the unknowable
when the knowable is all too real
and all too sublime:
that elusive sating of mind hunger
and skin hunger.

Poets propose that you touch my soul.
Scientists say you switch on my brain’s pleasure center.
Poetry or science,
press your thigh closer to mine
as leather meets velvet.

 

 

About the Poet:  Adrian Slonaker works as a copywriter and copy editor in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, USA. Adrian’s poetry has appeared in Amaryllis, Ginosko Literary Journal, The Mackinac, Eunoia Review, Oddball Magazine, and others.  

 

Poetry Breakfast accepts submissions of poetry and poetry related creative non-fiction year-round.  See our Submission Guidelines page for details on submitting your work.

Start your morning with a nourishing poem.  Follow us on  Twitter, Facebook, and  Tumblr,  and enjoy a new poem every morning straight to your feed.

Lemon Cake – A Poem by Sarah Law

Lemon Cake

My mother pushes the plate away,
setting her silver fork down;

Harriett’s Special Blend has quenched
her thirst (my skin gets a heated sheen);

near us a young girl swings her legs,
her mother’s hennaed hair hangs down.

Four p.m. I am fifty next Wednesday,
not knowing how so many years

are consumed in sips & forkfuls.
Another chunk of sugared sharpness —

perhaps I should take a photograph,
capture what’s left of life’s moment;

but the neighbouring couple’s changed
into an elderly man and his wife;

he eases himself into place & asks
if I’ve been to Bettys of Harrogate,

I tell him no but I’ve been to Rome,
and by the Spanish Steps a tearoom

very like Bettys where maids in aprons
serve fine tea in a blue-cream setting,

how romantic he says, & I think of
John Keats, dying in youth and sadness,

of names unwritten in tea or water,
hear my mother repeating herself

to the elderly wife, & I lift the refilled
cup (a tearoom is a sort of hallows

where the slips in time are steeped)
& commit to finishing it.

 

 

About the Poet:  Sarah Law lives in London and teaches for the Open University and elsewhere. She has published five poetry collections, the latest of which is Ink’s Wish (Gatehouse, 2014). Other recent poems have appeared in Antiphon, Eunoia Review, Snapdragon, Stride, Blue Pepper and Ink, Sweat & Tears. Follow her on twitter @drsarahlaw

 

Poetry Breakfast accepts submissions of poetry and poetry related creative non-fiction year-round.  See our Submission Guidelines page for details on submitting your work.

Start your morning with a nourishing poem.  Follow us on  Twitter, Facebook, and  Tumblr,  and enjoy a new poem every morning straight to your feed.

An Algorithm for Happiness – A Poem by Maurice Devitt

An Algorithm for Happiness

He recognised the driver as someone
he had never seen before
and, as each moment is an answer
to the last, realised the similarity
to his mother, who had run
away before he was born
and, for years, had captured the joy
of her guilt in rushed postcards
written from the last outpost
of a normal life. He knew
that in a place like this, he couldn’t
throw a stone without missing her,
but remembered that ardour
is the last coat of a loveless man
who, when staring into the future,
can only see the past.

 

 

About the Poet: Maurice Devitt – Runner-up in The Interpreter’s House Poetry Competition in 2017, he was winner of the Trocaire/Poetry Ireland Competition in 2015 and has been placed or shortlisted in many competitions including the Patrick Kavanagh Award, Listowel Collection Competition, Over the Edge New Writer Competition, Cuirt New Writing Award and the Cork Literary Review. He has had poems published in Ireland, England, Scotland, the US, Mexico, Romania, India and Australia and has a debut collection upcoming in 2018 with Doire Press.

 

Poetry Breakfast accepts submissions of poetry and poetry related creative non-fiction year-round.  See our Submission Guidelines page for details on submitting your work.

Start your morning with a nourishing poem.  Follow us on  Twitter, Facebook, and  Tumblr,  and enjoy a new poem every morning straight to your feed.

The Wild Turkey – A Poem by Marjorie Thomsen

The Wild Turkey

The difference between desire and longing came to me
in early May walking my daughter to school after seeing
a play the night before about a man who invents the universe.

On our walk, a wild turkey is hanging out in tall purple
garlic flower stalks in the neighbor’s yard and we take pictures,
walk away reluctantly but fast, knowing wild things can get wilder.

When I ask my daughter’s friend Julia to guess what we saw
she answers, “a wild turkey,” and tells us she has seen two
named Richard and Doorknob; so I know desire is a flawless

awareness of pleasures in and out of reach that we go wild for
in a universe where my daughter, purple garlic flowers, Julia and
the wild turkey will die, and longing is my desire for the impossible.

 

This poem also appears in Pretty Things Please, a collection of poems by Marjorie Thomsen.

 

About the Poet:  Marjorie Thomsen is the author of “Pretty Things Please” (Turning Point, 2016). Her poems have been nominated for a Pushcart Prize twice and she has received writing awards from the University of Iowa School of Social Work, the New England Poetry Club, and Poetica Magazine. She’s an instructor at Boston University’s School of Social Work and lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

 

Poetry Breakfast accepts submissions of poetry and poetry related creative non-fiction year-round.  See our Submission Guidelines page for details on submitting your work.

Start your morning with a nourishing poem.  Follow us on  TwitterFacebook, and  Tumblr,  and enjoy a new poem every morning straight to your feed.

10 Ways to Write a Poem – A Poem by Annmarie Lockhart

10 Ways to Write a Poem

  1. Reassemble the torn bits of the poem
    ++ he left on your desk in 1989
  2. Listen to the waves wash around
    ++sanded jellyfish and mermaids
  3. Retrace the steps he took
    ++to give you a birthday kiss
  4. Dance with her in post-stroke
    ++and wedding dresses
    ++++and a virtual audience
  5. Feather the skinned knees of every
    ++smooth-cheeked kiss
  6. Drink down wine
    ++turned to water
    ++++turned to winter
  7. Stretch the length of your spine
    ++along his hand and the lined page
  8. Taste the fat of coffee cream lyrics
    ++sung by a burning boy
  9. Lock eyes with clasped hands
    ++across happy hour smiles
    ++++and congenital heart defects
  10. Commit it all to paper
    ++commit to no one
    ++++commit soul to holy hands
    ++++++commit the rest to memory

 

 

About the Poet:  Annmarie Lockhart is the founding editor of vox poetica, an online literary salon dedicated to poetry, and Unbound Content, an independent poetry press. A lifelong Bergen County, New Jersey resident, she lives, writes, and works two miles from the hospital where she was born. You can read her words at fine journals online and in print.

 

Poetry Breakfast accepts submissions of poetry and poetry related creative non-fiction year-round.  See our Submission Guidelines page for details on submitting your work.

Start your morning with a nourishing poem.  Follow us on  TwitterFacebook, and  Tumblr,  and enjoy a new poem every morning straight to your feed.

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: