what is a seed
but a code of knowing—
some love of unfolding
into secret dreams of green,
wet, and sunlight?
dormant and doomsday vaulted
at 18 degrees below Celsius—
the first species ...
#to the seeds in the Svalbard seed vault #kaze no denwa by Lee Ann Roripaugh
LAR Online, Poetry
Nothing left to binge but
glut the hollow, the thin sac’s
cavity hoarding these bright
bones like marbled silks
rattling in a cage, greened
and glinting. Hold the husk &
suck each bead out. See,
there ...
Gardening, a mother gives a daughter a lesson on mass loss by Caitlin Roach
LAR Online, Poetry
I imagine the gods saying, We will make it up to you. We will give you three wishes, they say.
—Jack Gilbert, Imagine the Gods
I.
They are nowhere to be seen or heard. I know. I’ve walked
dune-like ...
I imagine the gods saying by Veronica Golos
LAR Online, Poetry
No is the wildest word we consign to language—Emily Dickinson
Sometimes the horizon is a scathing line.
Eye matter, retinal burns and erasures. The blue after
effect of yellow. The edge is eye-love or ...
Needing To Go On by Elizabeth McLagan
LAR Online, Poetry
They are turning cups of coffee over
to tell each other's fortunes. Khalil says
the sky is growing its beard, the darkness
an inevitable departure. My father turns over
pistachio shells to make small mounds
on ...
Father dreams of Gibran by Lory Bedikian
LAR Online, Poetry
but it was just a small, sectioned off square of linoleum–a mock-room
made with thick, hospital-blue curtains swooping open and closed
like a school ...
They Called It The Parlor by Meghann Plunkett
LAR Online, Poetry
There is a hole in the narrative, dear
reader. One we've chosen to accept. Take,
for example, discussions of instinct
which inevitably will lead to the
Donner Party, that is if you teach out
West. Is the part of ...
The Winter of 1846-7 by Iris Jamahl Dunkle
LAR Online, Poetry
River Ephemeral
River, why did you lead me to you
when there is no water
...
Two Poems by Carey Salerno
LAR Online, Poetry
Translation by Don Schofield
Raffaello Ceccoli’s Icon, 1853
My father liked the icon
in the monastery because Ceccoli
portrayed his dead daughter as the Virgin.
I was alive and he
was not a ...
Four Poems by Liana Sakelliou
LAR Online, Poetry, Translations
