Poetry for All

Poetry for All


A brief introduction


Poetry is one of the oldest enduring forms of writing, but remains mysterious and inaccessible for the average person. Even though we all write daily, sending emails, texts, posting on social media, most of us would laugh if you suggest we read, or even write, a poem. What sets poetry apart is the universality of the form; when you read a poem, the emotions and images are things anyone can relate to or imagine. A poem doesn’t need to rhyme or look a certain way. It doesn’t need to be about grandiose figures or images. There are poets of all subjects and in all countries. Included below are three lesser known but remarkable poems by three authors hailing from Iran, Jamaica, and the U.S.


Conquest of the Garden(excerpt) by Forough Farrokhzad



Forough FarrokhzadThat crow which flew over our heads
and descended into the disturbed thought
of a vagabond cloud
and the sound of which traversed
he breadth of the horizon
like a short spear
will carry the news of us to the city.
Everyone knows,
everyone knows
that you and I have seen the garden
from that cold sullen window
and that we have plucked the apple
from that playful, hard-to-reach branch.


Black Space (excerpt) by Ishion Hutchinson



Ishion Hutchinson I can bring a halo
into the night cave, quiet
with music (do not ask the music),
to her shaded there
in the moon; her fine spectacles
steam their pond rings;
her animal eyes fix
on the lintel of the door
as the wax owl glances back at me. I am her little cotton
tree the breeze combs
white into a final note,
her diminuendo poco a poco ... 


Women who Sleep on Stones (excerpt) by Lucia Perillo




Lucia Perillo Women who sleep on stones are like
brick houses that squat alone in cornfields.
They look weatherworn, solid, dusty,
torn screens sloughing from the window frames.
But at dusk a second-story light is always burning.
Used to be I loved nothing more
than spreading my blanket on high granite ledges
that collect good water in their hollows.
Stars came close without the trees
staring and rustling like damp underthings.