The NY Literary Magazine

A Distinguished Selection of the Finest Poetry & Short Stories

Category

Deep Poems

Fever by Louisa Heno

I’ve got a fever inside ready to break out
I’m angry at my thoughts and all my self-doubt
I’m angry at the people who doubted me, too
But that’s a tiny flame, it can barely reach through
The tunnels and chasms I’ve built around me
But it’s burning, I feel it, and I’m hopeful you’ll see
It well overboard in a simple, brave act
And I would be free
And there’d be no regret

Read More

One Pixel on an Immense Black Screen by Tom Higgins

A tiny, pale blue dot,
is all there is,
it is not such a lot
but it is everything
to us.
We share this speck
of dust in a void,
and what we are,
what we were,
and what we become,
is all because
so far Read More

Words by Meygan Cox

Words are just letters on paper
twenty-six figures muddled together,
pieced until satisfaction is complete.

Words are nature with no sound,
for how can we appreciate the warbler’s song
when we do not listen to the lyrics?

Read More

Symbolism by Eunice-Grace Domingo

Unmentioned strangers whisper sweet nothings in my ear,
Formidable enemies with intentions so unclear.
I am forced to sit down, to listen and respect
Their unceremonious chatter and values they reject.

One wears a halo, glowing like the future:
White robes, golden smile — heavenly composure.
This one’s got vows and rules that I must follow:
Ways of ensuring that I have a tomorrow.

Read More

A Shooting Star by Druppels aka Luc D’hertefelt

A shooting star
my soul is floating far
The ghosts, my mind created
were the brakes that I hated
It is not important where I am
but it is crucial who I am
It does not matter what I’ve seen
I was blind anyway

Read More

It’s the Not Thinking by Marie Hanna Curran

It’s the not thinking
That’s the chore,
That’s why so many therapists
And DFS coaches are in well-paid jobs.

It’s the not thinking
About a rape by a victim,
And the not thinking
Of a stranger’s greasy hands
All over your front hall.

Read More

The Balanced Book by Marie Hanna Curran

In an over-produced world
Of populous populations,
Supply is often halted beyond the womb

And should a child make it
To the densely packed production line,
There are no lifetime guarantees
No best before, or after birthday dates

Supply outcries demand.

But demand increases should you move
Within the factory floor,
Be placed onto the packaged line
“First World”
Or stamped and wrapped:
“For Family Wealth”

Read More

Je Suis La Lune by Keri Marable

I’m not sorry.
What should I be sorry for?
The moon doesn’t apologize for causing the
rise and fall of the tides.
Why should I?

You say that I’m conceited.

Just because you don’t water your own flowers,
doesn’t mean you get to stomp on mine. 

My garden is healthy and strong.

I won’t let you crush what it took me years to grow.
Instead of hurting mine, tend to your own.
Maybe your garden can grow too.

You say that I’m a dreamer, 

That my head is too far up in the
clouds to watch where I’m walking.

Read More

Today by Greg J Muscroft

Today
is the first day of the rest of your life
Tomorrow is an adventure in the making
Yesterday is a memory of
a moment we cannot return to
Even if we wanted

What’s done is done
All we can do is learn to accept it and
move forward graciously

Time waits for no man
And no man achieves by waiting

Read More

Here We Remain by Winslow Des Totes

We may breathe the same air
but not the same lungs
hold the same blood
but speak different tongues

we cry the same tears
and wash the same pains
but we are not one
and yet here we remain.

Read More

Figments by Druppels

Figments
in a boiling sea.
Moments
of a coiling me.

Roots finding no soil
A mind lingers in turmoil
An endless journey
Unable to flee

Read More

The Refugee by Sohail Dahdal

In a new town walks a man
His name is Bisan but they call him Dan
All alone in this world
His house for freedom he sold
But the key in his hand he still holds

Read More

My Beauty by Mary Newcomer

My beauty walked out of the door
Without saying good-bye.
My passport photos are my proof.

My precious ally has found a new face
Not touched by grief, lack of sleep
And broken dreams.

Read More

Never fit in by Druppels

You seemed never to fit in
You’ve searched your soul
looking for a reason within
but there was nothing you could do
because the problem was never you
You were simply not on the same page
could not connect with children of your own age Read More

The Ghost Inside by Akshat Thakur

I’m not a doctor, I’m not your cure,
I’m not the medicine that you long for;
I’m not a lifeline, I’m not the boat,
I’m just the salt that’ll keep you afloat.

I stare at the noise, drawn to the void,
Conversations that I’ll craftily avoid;
I’ll walk off the earth, dying since my birth,
Keep running till my bones hit the dirt.

Under the shower, let the hotness devour,
And the water sink into my eyes like a rotten flower;
I’ve got the deadest face, I’m just a waste of space,
I’ll let my heart run free as my soul loses grace.

Read More

I Want To Know The Details Of Real Love by Eithne Reynolds

Yesterday out walking
The summer breeze a sigh
I met a girl out walking too
And as I passed her by,
I noticed on her t-shirt
In letters of black and red
‘I want to know the details of real love’
And so I stopped and said —
You want to know the details of real love?
Then let me tell you this —

Real love begins with a kiss
A touch
A word
A glance
A dance.

Real love begins with a text
A call
But that’s not all,
It’s reaching out
And falling into

Read More

The Money Tree by Thomas E. Sobon

Imagine how easy your life would be,
if money like apples could grow on a tree.
Each morning as money would ripen and drop
you’d go to the tree and harvest the crop.

All of that money would come to you free,
providing of course that you owned the tree.
The tree would be yours if you planted the seed
and nurtured and cared for its every need.

You’d be rewarded with bushels of cash,
and cash in this world is surely not trash.
The problems it solves are more than a few,
and money can buy many extras for you.

You’d shop for a car with a bushel of “ones.”
For a house you could spend “ones” by the tons.
Like a king in his castle you’d have command
of all you surveyed all over the land.

While you imagine (what would be the harm?)
instead of one tree, have a money tree farm?
Since each piece of money is denominated,
grow what you want of what’s circulated.

Then harvest your “ones” from a Washington plant,
“tens” from a Hamilton and “fifties” from a Grant.
A Franklin would grow “hundreds” for you.
What more could you want your trees to do?

But money from trees, whatever the gender,
nowhere in this world, could be legal tender.
In the struggle for power or the scramble for pelf,
for success in this world, rely on yourself.

Read More

Love Is by Teeya

Love is
sight where obscurity lays
parallel to luminous visually blinding curiosity
perceiving light’s blinking eye to warm a shaken path
of dark and damp coldness until tipping toes can
walk firmly on unyielding solid ground…

Love is
monochromatic rainbows in shades of you;
pale tones of expectations with no expectations
interrupted by kaleidoscopic flushings
at that chanced, precise moment
when shades of you casts hues of you
as the sun reflects its orange moon… Read More

War’s a Waste by Glen R Baker

Why can’t we see that all war’s a waste
That a combat zone is a bastard of a place
And it really doesn’t matter which side you’re on
Because whatever your belief, war is just wrong

Why is it so hard to live with each other
We are all one, you’re my sister, my brother
When did we become so expendable and cheap
Why is life too hard to cherish and keep

Read More

For my Whale Sisters and Brothers by Kat McDonald

This planet is small,
too small.
sometimes, it seems, there is
nowhere to hide when
what’s inside presides,
pervades,
prevails;
when the storm
shreds the sails
leaving no safe harbour.
soon,
there will be
no trees to breathe
no rivers to cry –
and the oceans will be salt
flat graveyards
for my whale brothers
and sisters to die (in).

Read More

© 2017 The NY Literary Magazine

Privacy  Terms of Service  — Up ↑

Join the
NY Literary
Magazine Newsletter
Be the first to know of our
Poetry & Writing Contests and of
Calls for Submissions to the
NY Literary Magazine.
JOIN TODAY