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How much poison are you willing
to eat for the success of the free
market and global trade? Please
name your preferred poisons.

For the sake of goodness, how much
evil are you willing to do?
Fill in the following blanks
with the names of your favorite
evils and acts of hatred.

What sacrifices are you prepared
to make for culture and civilization?
Please list the monuments, shrines,
and works of art you would
most willingly destroy.

In the name of patriotism and
the flag, how much of our beloved
land are you willing to desecrate?
List in the following spaces
the mountains, rivers, towns, farms
you could most readily do without.

State briefly the ideas, ideals, or hopes,
the energy sources, the kinds of security;
for which you would kill a child.
Name, please, the children whom
you would be willing to kill.


- Questionnaire, by Wendell Berry from Leavings. (via snowybison)
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shamelessly_mkp: (Default)


How much poison are you willing
to eat for the success of the free
market and global trade? Please
name your preferred poisons.

For the sake of goodness, how much
evil are you willing to do?
Fill in the following blanks
with the names of your favorite
evils and acts of hatred.

What sacrifices are you prepared
to make for culture and civilization?
Please list the monuments, shrines,
and works of art you would
most willingly destroy.

In the name of patriotism and
the flag, how much of our beloved
land are you willing to desecrate?
List in the following spaces
the mountains, rivers, towns, farms
you could most readily do without.

State briefly the ideas, ideals, or hopes,
the energy sources, the kinds of security;
for which you would kill a child.
Name, please, the children whom
you would be willing to kill.


- Questionnaire, by Wendell Berry from Leavings. (via snowybison)
via:Tumblr http://ift.tt/1s9tuZV
shamelessly_mkp: (Default)
http://ift.tt/1mwn0iU
archive of poetry (various eras, forms,languages (usually with English translation), schools, topics)

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quigonejinn:

1. 

my soul is a dog

in a hot car

on a summer day with the window

barely cracked

please for the love of god come back to gchat

2. 

you’re in a car with a beautifu —

fuck this richard siken shit

i just want to talk about mpreg clone watersports with you

3. 

YOUR GCHAT ICON SAYS YOU ARE THERE

IT’S MOTHERFUCKING GREEN 

GREEN AS THE ISLES OF IREFUCKINGLAND

BUT YOU HAVEN’T YOU RESPONDED TO MY MESSAGES

I HATE THIS

WHY DO WE LIVE SO FAR APART

WHY IS EVERYTHING IN LIFE TE — oh there you are, you’re typing at me, you were getting food, how was my day, did I see the thing yet?  

4.

i am sorry

but why the fuck 

aren’t you on

i know, i know,

it’s like 6:30 in the morning where you are

or you’re watching your brother get married

or you’re traveling to israel 

or dealing with serious real life shit that legit breaks my heart

but goddammit, i saw/read/listened to that thing last night

and if we don’t talk about it i am going to explode like a roman candle

fabulous yellow spider across the stars

tho we totally talked about how much we both hate fucking jack kerouac

did you see that tumblr post about how allen ginsberg was a grade a disgusting creep? on the other hand, i am totally changing my opinion on daniel radcliffe’s hotness 

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Howl

Jun. 28th, 2014 09:08 am
shamelessly_mkp: (Default)
apoemaday:

by Frank Báez

I haven’t seen the best minds of my
generation and I couldn’t care less.

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“I swear to every heaven ever imagined,
if I hear one more dead-eyed hipster
tell me that art is dead, I will personally summon Shakespeare
from the grave so he can tell them every reason
why he wishes he were born in a time where
he could have a damn Gmail account.
The day after I taught my mother
how to send pictures over Iphone she texted
me a blurry image of our cocker spaniel ten times in a row.
Don’t you dare try to tell me that that is not beautiful.
But whatever, go ahead and choose to stay in
your backwards-hoping-all-inclusive club
while the rest of us fall in love over Skype.
Send angry letters to state representatives,
as we record the years first sunrise so
we can remember what beginning feels like when
we are inches away from the trigger.
Lock yourself away in your Antoinette castle
while we eat cake and tweet to the whole universe that we did.
Hashtag you’re a pretentious ass hole.
Van Gogh would have taken 20 selflies a day.
Sylvia Plath would have texted her lovers
nothing but heart eyed emojis when she ran out of words.
Andy Warhol would have had the worlds weirdest Vine account,
and we all would have checked it every morning while we
Snap Chat our coffee orders to the people
we wish were pressed against our lips instead of lattes.
This life is spilling over with 85 year olds
rewatching JFK’s assassination and
7 year olds teaching themselves guitar over Youtube videos.
Never again do I have to be afraid of forgetting
what my fathers voice sounds like.
No longer must we sneak into our families phonebook
to look up an eating disorder hotline for our best friend.
No more must I wonder what people in Australia sound like
or how grasshoppers procreate.
I will gleefully continue to take pictures of tulips
in public parks on my cellphone
and you will continue to scoff and that is okay.
But I hope, I pray, that one day you will realize how blessed
you are to be alive in a moment where you can google search
how to say I love you in 164 different languages.”
- b.e.fitzgerald (Art is a Facebook status about your winter break.)
via:Tumblr http://ift.tt/1pJ6rWQ
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apoemaday:

by F.J. Bergmann

Meet and Marry a Gorgeous Russian Queen—a spam subject lineTo win her, you must learn the languageof birds. You Google to find out just what kindsof birds migrate between here and Siberia.You will build her a crystal castle of salt,dried from pure, sweet tears that you weptin disappointment over celebrity pornviruses and fraudulent penis extenders.Even on the paid matrimonial websites,she is the only truth shining among thousandsof false promises like a genuine gold crownsurrounded by rhinestone tiaras—or a shark’smouthful of yellowing teeth—and she looksdamn good in those dollar-store bras she boughtwith the money you sent her for airfare.Each successive e-mail has an explanationfor why she still doesn’t have enough for the visa,like an egg you crack open to find another eggenclosing still-smaller eggs. The final eggis Fabergé, with a jeweled window where you lookinside to see a little cottage with a tiny gardenand a couple holding hands. She has a doctoratein chemical engineering but you assure heryou are completely, totally healthy and drug-and alcohol-free. Anyway, she’ll never knowif you’re careful to always undress in the dark.She can cook anything, as long as it’s not lentils,and you promise she won’t need to cook.You plan to treat her to McDonald’s at least twicea week and you’ve got a whole case of ramennoodles left over from the Y2K stash. You evenhauled last year’s Xmas tree to the curb, adornedthe mailbox with plastic flowers, and sweptthe sidewalk in front of the house every dayfor a year in anticipation of her arrival.You decide not to tell her about the foreclosureuntil she’s gotten used to the place a little more.She steps down from her hut on chicken legswith a faintly amused smile, as it crouchesto take a crap in the next-door neighbor’s yard.She looks something like her photographand you are beginning to wish you’d changed—or at least washed—your I’m With Stupid t-shirt.“Hi there,” you say, with a bashful grin. Her accentis adorable but a bit difficult to understand.She is saying something about deception; or, morelikely, conception: women always want kids. Andsomething about Las Vegas, and—you’re prettysure about this one—getting a gift horse.

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http://ift.tt/1jBk5Zy
High quality performance poetry is hard to discover. We either spend hours on the Internet sifting through sites to get to the right stuff, or just give up looking. We think it makes more sense to let the great stuff come to you. We collect unique and relevant works from poets that have given permission to distribute their content, then we present you with a fresh collection of shows that transfer right into your MP3 player with no hassle, free. The single-serving format allows you to add these shows easily into your media collection with no fuss. And best of all, each podcast will give you the website or other contact information for the featured poet, so you can read and listen to their work, purchase their CDs and books, or just check out their tour schedules.

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http://poems.com
Poetry Daily is an anthology of contemporary poetry. Each day, we bring you a new poem from new books, magazines, and journals. Poems are chosen from the work of a wide variety of poets published or translated in the English language. Our most eminent poets are represented in the selections, but also poets who are less well known. The daily poem is selected for its literary quality and to provide you with a window on a very broad range of poetry offered annually by publishers large and small. Included with each poem is information about the poet and the poem’s source. Our purpose is to make it easier for people to find poets and poetry they like and to help publishers bring news of their books, magazines, and journals to more people.

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http://ift.tt/1jBk5Zo
Welcome to the Isle of Lesbos, a place of art, culture, and learning dedicated to lesbian and bisexual women. On this site you will find a wealth of historical literary material and images celebrating romantic love between women — as well as the joys of sisterhood. Brew up a cup of your favorite tea, take off your shoes, and get comfortable. Then click a section heading in the top menu bar and begin your journey into a kind and gentle space that honors the enduring bonds between women. Enjoy!

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http://ift.tt/Z6AmX0
Welcome to The Poetry Translation Centre’s website. We’re a small organisation dedicated to translating contemporary poetry from Africa, Asia and Latin America. To date, we’ve translated 400 poems written in 27 different languages by 89 poets from 39 countries. On our website you’ll find all these poems both in translation and in their original language, plus photos and videos of our events and information about what we do and how we translate.

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http://ift.tt/pLCUUV
The preeminent Internet publisher of literature, reference, and verse providing students, researchers, and the intellectually curious with unlimited access to books and information on the web, free of charge.

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http://ift.tt/1jT64XG
Mathematical language can heighten the imagery of a poem; mathematical structure can deepen its effect. Feast here on an international menu of poems made rich by mathematical ingredients.

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elisabethhewer:

I stole an apple some time after I was born.
Do you think of me when you eat crumble?
I think God probably does.
It’s quite funny, really. He had the perfect world
and he let me and a snake and an apple
uproot it in a single day.

I opened a box they’d told me not to.
To be fair to myself, they gave me to a man
I’d never met. I’d never really met myself.
(My lungs and blood and hair were clay, once.)
That box was the only sort of history I had.
Wouldn’t you want to know your own story?

I abandoned a daughter and a kingdom
and ran away with a Trojan man. 
It has been decided that I wanted to go.
Even I’m not sure if I did anymore.
They sent a thousand ships and said they were for me.
(Secret: Troy was the only woman they wanted.)

The moral they intend us to take away is thatwomen are responsible for all the evils in the world.I’d suggest you make your own moral instead.

Mine is that a single woman can uproot
an entire world of men with the simple act
of eating an apple, opening a box, loving a prince. 

No wonder they use everything they’ve got
to keep us soft and pliant. 

— elisabeth hewer

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http://poetrywtf.org/
Poetry WTF?! is a website for poetry, but not your gran’s poetry. At Poetry WTF?! you will find serious literary remixes, surprising sculptural whiteouts …. and the occasional textual mess. It’s a brave new world.

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Imagine this:
When she tires of waiting for her saviour,
our princess mounts the bucking dragon that prowls the castle gates
and flies to freedom.

Imagine this:
Instead of her husband’s fur smoothing out into skin, his teeth going blunt,
Belle finds coarse, dark hair growing on the back of her palms,
and learns how to grin through a bloody muzzle.
Instead of waiting, Elizabeth Swann sails out to her husband
or rules the seas with a cutlass in one hand and her swollen stomach in the other.

Imagine this:
Our princess rides her dragon guard from her prison
and feels the wind on her face for the first time in years.

Imagine this:
An abandoned Wendy Darling captains her own pirate ship,
one eye always on the horizon.
Pocahontas takes back her land with a tomahawk
and a stolen musket.

Imagine this:
Instead of punishing his mistresses,
Hera takes Zeus by the throat and squeezes.
After the blunders of Orpheus,
Eurydice carves her own way out of Hades.

Imagine this:
Bored of the same old story,
they invent something else for a princess to do
than be rescued.


- 'Reinventing Rescuing, part iii,' theappleppielifestyle.
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“He Tells Her”

He tells her that the Earth is flat—
He knows the facts, and that is that.
In altercations fierce and long
She tries her best to prove him wrong.
But he has learned to argue well.
He calls her arguments unsound
And often asks her not to yell.
She cannot win. He stands his ground.

The planet goes on being round.


- Wendy Cope (via arasigyrn)
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“I swear to every heaven ever imagined,
if I hear one more dead-eyed hipster
tell me that art is dead, I will personally summon Shakespeare
from the grave so he can tell them every reason
why he wishes he were born in a time where
he could have a damn Gmail account.
The day after I taught my mother
how to send pictures over Iphone she texted
me a blurry image of our cocker spaniel ten times in a row.
Don’t you dare try to tell me that that is not beautiful.
But whatever, go ahead and choose to stay in
your backwards-hoping-all-inclusive club
while the rest of us fall in love over Skype.
Send angry letters to state representatives,
as we record the years first sunrise so
we can remember what beginning feels like when
we are inches away from the trigger.
Lock yourself away in your Antoinette castle
while eat cake and tweet to the whole universe that we did.
Hashtag you’re a pretentious ass hole.
Van Gogh would have taken 20 selflies a day.
Sylvia Plath would have texted her lovers
nothing but heart eyed emojis when she ran out of words.
Andy Warhol would have had the worlds weirdest Vine account,
and we all would have checked it every morning while we
Snap Chat our coffee orders to the people
we wish were pressed against our lips instead of lattes.
This life is spilling over with 85 year olds
rewatching JFK’s assassination and
7 year olds teaching themselves guitar over Youtube videos.
Never again do I have to be afraid of forgetting
what my fathers voice sounds like.
No longer must we sneak into our families phonebook
to look up an eating disorder hotline for our best friend.
No more must I wonder what people in Australia sound like
or how grasshoppers procreate.
I will gleefully continue to take pictures of tulips
in public parks on my cellphone
and you will continue to scoff and that is okay.
But I hope, I pray, that one day you will realize how blessed
you are to be alive in a moment where you can google search
how to say I love you in 164 different languages.”
- b.e.fitzgerald (Art is a Facebook status about your winter break.)
via:Tumblr http://ift.tt/1liwJe6
shamelessly_mkp: (Default)
dailydot:

milesklee assembled this lovely poem out of Tumblr email subject lines. 

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