Category Archives: Poems

You came to our land and took it Devastation to our people you knew it You thought that by putting us away We should be here to obey Your every command and demand You had the right to disband You didn’t once try to see That we are a special race put here By ourContinue reading “Tribal Birth”

Change is the new,  improved  word for god,  lovely enough  to raise a song  or implicate  a sea of wrongs,  mighty enough,  like other gods,  to shelter,  bring together,  and estrange us.  Please, god,  we seem to say,  change us. * Written By Wendy Videlock  

Goodbye, my dear.  Hello, my blood.  I’ve lettin go.  For all of us.  There shall be no more tears.  I won’t be missed.  I’ve given up slowly.  I’ve planned for this.  You’ve helped once. Glad to say.  I had you here.  But now I’m done.  Goodbye, my dear. +++ Written By Kenze Love RIP X

no one leaves home unless home is the mouth of a shark you only run for the border when you see the whole city running as well your neighbors running faster than you breath bloody in their throats the boy you went to school with who kissed you dizzy behind the old tin factory isContinue reading “Home”

there will be moments when you will bloom fully then wilt, only to bloom again if we can learn anything from flowers it is that resilience is born even if we feel like we are  dying. Written By Alex Elle

come with every wound and every woman you’ve ever loved every lie you’ve ever told and whatever it is that keeps you up at night every mouth you’ve ever punched in all the blood you’ve ever tasted come with every enemy you’ve ever made and all the family you’ve ever buried and every dirty thingContinue reading ““first thought after seeing you smile,””

The pain  that made you  the odd one out  is the story  that connects you  to a healing world + Written By Tanya Markul

Take one pint of water, add a half pound of sugar, the juice of eight lemons, the zest of half a lemon. Pour the water from one jug then into the other several times. Strain through a clean napkin. Grandmother, the alchemist, you spun gold out of this hard life, conjured beauty from the thingsContinue reading “Redemption”

we’re only haunted  by the things  we refuse to  accept Written By Bridgett Devoue

When I have fears that I may cease to be     Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain,  Before high-pilèd books, in charactery,     Hold like rich garners the full ripened grain;  When I behold, upon the night’s starred face,     Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,  And think that I may never live to trace Continue reading “When I have Fears That I May Cease to Be”