The NY Literary Magazine

A Distinguished Selection of the Finest Modern Literature

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life poems

Dirty Laundry by Bob Shakeshaft

Small terraced windows
squinting eyes
behind curtains netted
faces onto the street
to snare a fresh gossip
smeared by a bad mind
carelessly harming
him or her

play – staged a small street
a clean name…linen hall

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Awake at Night by Palma Mingozzi

How many chills
Spent in a restless night
They come and go
Between turns in light-stars
in the shaded dark

And how many thoughts on my mind
Papers thrown out in a basket and
How much nonsense exists in a sigh

How primitive is
Man at first rising in the early morning light
Celestine is the color of the sky today
And she smiles at the scent of coffee
Poured in a ceramic brown cup that steams vaporously

Today I am no longer attracted by the
Chasing after of a dream
For those who want it
They can go and get it

Today I am alone with my thoughts
In my silence
I have no worries
I am convinced that life is sincere
That death is accepted

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Life by Will Neill

Life is like a flower
that starts out from a seed
it needs some love to make it grow
and help it to succeed

It becomes a tiny sapling
that plants its little roots
then from the stems
buds soon grow
with leaves and little shoots

As time goes by a petal forms
that’s just how nature grows
before too long that little bud
evolves into a rose

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Today? Poem by Mary Christine Laningham

Do I understand?
I live another day,
adding to the potential years,
of a life well lived,
so they say.

In the shadow of yesterday?
Will they say this upon the grave?
Yet, that which was lost yesterday,
can be regained tomorrow,
again, so they say.

Do I understand?
Where is today?
The choice lays within,
the question mark of a new day.

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Whistle by Chiqui Jimenez

What was more desired than a whistle?
I was young and fascinated with the whistle.
The deafening sound that came from your mouth.
They weren’t birds, but they can whistle as the wind!
Whistling, whistling
I was fascinated, looking at my brothers whistling.

How can I whistle? My question came.
My brother teaching me, while my father screaming at me.
You are a girl! Girls don’t whistle!
Then my father whistles.
It is unfair or is it just me?
A girl who couldn’t whistle.

It’s the day for a wild whistle competition.

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