A selection of poetry and art.
All credit goes to the talented authors.

A reckoning
with the four walls that enclose you
rot festering in misshapen ceiling
and a crumbling brick foundation
that heaves and sobs more violently each passing year

A realization:
architects of a dilapidated house
will never wield the tools you require

You are blessed with wings and range —
why fix windows and doors when
you have infinite
blue sky?

« Freedom » by Katerina Jeng
@katerinajeng

Why you ever felt the pain
When you realize nothing here can die
Only growing, ever change
And the mind can’t comprehend this thought
Step beyond it
Truth will reign
Then you’ll laugh
At how most things rational
From this angle are so strange

« Right Angle » by Valerie June
@thevaleriejune

Do you ever just think back to your younger self
and wonder what she would be doing right now?
If she hadn’t changed.
Hadn’t moved away from her hometown.
Hadn’t decided to let those people go.
Stayed the same and made the same silly mistakes
time and time again.
Never learned from any of them.
I think she would be proud of me now.
I think she wouldn’t believe who we became.

by C.M Dillard
@cmdillardpoetry
@cafepoetry

why is it always us
who have to change
never men
always women
and even though we have changed
the way we go about our day
the way we dress
the way we talk
what time to go on a walk or to dinner
and whether or not to walk alone
violence against women
is still rampant
with no ending in sight
so until the men change
this violence will continue

« calling on all the wild things » by Karli Crispin
@karlicrispin_author

Il y a des jours où la vie ressemble à une cuisine
Silencieuse et vide
Une cuisine en pleine journée
Sans cuisinière
Sans enfant
Sans personne pour y manger
Une cuisine taciturne, austère
Dans laquelle est accrochée au mur
Une pendule triste et bon marché
Une pendule qui fait Tic Tac Tic Tac Tic Tac Tic Tac Tic Tac
Une pendule qui prend toute la place
Qui nous oppresse, nous incommoderait presque
L’heure tourne, pourtant rien ne presse
Si ce n’est une irrépressible envie de décrocher la pendule et la piétiner
La démembrer et fuir
Cette cuisine à tout jamais.

« La cuisine » par Marion Vitry
@poesie.sauvage

Eath away at me and underneath
you’ll find my bones are made
of gemstones and that there are
Universes hidden behind my eyes.

Tear apart my heart, shred it piece by piece
and when you do I think you’ll find
all the things that bring me peace.

Pull my teeth and cut my hair,
turn me into someone new,
but if you do I think you’ll find
to my love I still remain true.

by Morgan Brady
@morganswriting

You look like me,
you look like you keep
too much storm inside
you.

by Jae Nichelle
@croptopassassin

I walk along the streets still tinged with ashes,
There is only one song left,
It repeats itself and stretches out, crackling.

The morning air is still fresh,
I walk away from home – and deep inside myself
I sit in silence,
They say time stands still for no one,

Yet I felt it stop.
They said the gem was perfectly white,
Flawless.

From April to July, I heard great fractures,
On Earth, in my bones.

Summer comes, I sit in silence,
Wildfires devour our forests,
They say our animals are dying.

I gave back what I loved the most.

by H. Oberlin (founder)
@h.oberlin

in a cold rush of emptiness
like a weight being lifted
my chest and my vision light
i realized
nothing we had before
matter now

by Winnie Nantongo
@itswinnita

There will never be enough
completed moments.
No one wants to be finished.
Praise death
if it means there had or has to be life.
Praise love
for doing the work
of the intangible,
for making the in-between
a dance that bends our aching limbs
into somebody’s favorite memory.
Praise memory
for keeping what life will let go
Praise poetry
for teaching you
where to go from here.

by Ariana Brown
@arianathepoet

In the art of remembering,
it was my mother’s unhesitant life rhythm in my early childhood
that read a clear communiqué,
one found singing gently through everything she did
— that anything could be made from something
and something could be made from anything

I see a strong and tenacious will to find beauty, regardless —

To remain sensitive to it,

to notice it.

by Tess Guinery
@tessguinery

مثل دریانوردِ دور از دریا
مثل آهنگ‌سازی ناشنوا
مثل بوته‌ای خشکیده در چند قدمی جویبار
مثل شاهدختی فراموش‌شده‌ در سکوتِ اوراقِ کاهیِ کتابی کهنه
مثل قصه‌ای بدون نام
شبیه تاریخ نانوشته‌ی جنگی مهیب
ناتمام‌؛
قدم به آینده می‌گذارم.
غبار سال‌های رفته را بارانی که می‌بارد با خود به یغما می‌برد
و من
در تکرارِ دوباره‌ی دمیدن روحم در کالبد پاییز،
غرق اکنون و رها از چیدن و برچیدن نقشه‌‌ی روزگارِ پیشِ‌رو،
با خود زمزمه می‌کنم:

« عیسای دست‌های مبارک بزن مرا
تا مرده‌ای به زنده شدن مفتخر شود »
.
و باران
تقویمِ آبان را از جادوی زمان می‌شوید
و صدای زمزمه‌های محو من در طنین مبارکش گم می‌شود.

a beautiful Persian poem by Haniyeh Mahmoudi
@haniehgram