Poetry
This is Thin Air Online’s Archive of pieces that are classified as poetry, both long form and short.
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“WHAT YOU HEARD” by Tyler Jacobs
WHAT YOU HEARD As I drank your mornings starless: A hue the color of breath. Something like drifting vapor against this curtain Of birdsongs. Maybe it was the closeness of the horizon And what I said under it that closed our eyes. And then it felt quiet at which point there was nowhere to be.…
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“SAKURA” by J H Martin
SAKURA From the gate Follow the lane Until you Reach the field Take in the air Turn off the noise Make your stride slower It’s always there No need to rush No need to amplify No need to separate The cherry from the tree J H Martin is from London, England, but has no fixed…
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“BROKEN BONE TRILOGY” by Toti O’Brien
BROKEN BONE TRILOGY ARCO IRIS You ease pain on an upward curve then you let it slide downwards taper into rainbow shreds as it meets the horizontal plane of the mattress. Alarm clocks go off at strange hours. You sleep in sections and segments freely stitched across days and nights. You used to play games…
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“Broken Glass” by DS Maolalai
Broken Glass the street at night colourful as glass shattered and scattered on the asphalt in front of a grey car- park bottlebank, as wild and as colourful as wild-growing flowers, as characterful also, and also as bright. the cheer of blue glass, and of green glass, and clear glass. how it catches the sunlight…
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“Angels” by Benjamin Schmitt
Angels I have met angels despite those times I spent searching for happiness until my sadness bled crying my car through traffic swerving between tears and bumpers But I have met angels always dressed modestly always with a kind word like the skateboarder who called me a good dad as I felt ashamed for yelling…
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Two Poems by M. Nasorri Pavone
417 Sunset Avenue Your modest clapboards and white trim, a two-seat porch from which to love your delicate lemon tree – for you I dreamed to be at my pinnacle and now you’re unable to overlook my lapse. I missed your dismantling but not the shock of the flat dirt lot I came upon in…
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“Tactics” by Sanjeev Sethi
Tactics As the years gargle their way along the throat of eternity I negate the validity of your play on my hippodrome. It is the handiwork of naiveté to charm us with calming plots. We shroud our verities in our bones to believe they belong elsewhere or not at all. Sanjeev Sethi is published in…
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Two Poems by Rob Colgate
Reek After Merwin We are saying goodbye to the boys we will never see again. We are running into walls with our mouths full of a shame that reeks of disorganization. We are losing our touch: the driving over to visit, the visiting, how it droops, pales, colors leaking out in a slurry from bodies…
