The NY Literary Magazine

A Distinguished Selection of the Finest Modern Literature

Tag

modern poets

Lonely Girl (Shooting Star) by Akshat Thakur

Lonely girl, how does it feel
Knowing that nothing in your life is real?
The world, and you, are just so fake,
How does it feel to be something that you hate?
Wake up and dread your existence,
(I know you do)
Burn all bridges to create some distance,
(Life’s hard to get through)

The whereabouts of your mind are anybody’s guess,
Wearing nothing but a smile, you look so well dressed.

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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

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Warrior’s Muse by Edward J Davis

Black of night, receding star light
Scarlet life joining frosted earth
A Valkyrie’s cry, a kiss fading in winter’s tide
Her touch, death’s caress?
Or life’s yearnful embrace?

She departed in a flurry of wings, took flight.

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Wooden Benches by Stephen McGurk

Celebrate; for today we live.
No picture does justice to the life on parade today.
Waitresses carefully place and disappear;
As faces cheer with greetings.
Another; Another.

Tracks are made for those coming after,
A life of white and laughter,
The milk of being.

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Ode To Music by Emily Bilman

Ode to Music

Like a village beacon lit for a celebration,
The mind’s halls are lit up, all by music.
Each note, sustained by that intuitive

Leap of faith, restores doubt with rock-strength
As the virtuoso hand trembles and resonates
On the chords of our innermost essence.

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The Voyage by Gerald Weeks

At last in past is the dream of me I see,
As I sit in a boat afloat, I admit, through the sea of life
I saw myself without spiritual wealth,
Shipwrecked, turned and tossed, I yearned
from truth-aloof in my youth, I was lost,

On a voyage under nights-roof darkest, aloof-alone,
only stars atone with a glowing harkness,
Would, by knowing which one I should follow,
be an escape from the agape of sea and dark to swallow?
Be showing a way as I drift astray?

May the chosen star in my nightmare dream – gleam a light – beam as I pray for day,
Beaming aglow, it would brighten my dream’s darkly plight of a woeful night,

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Tantric Warrior Stance by Empirik

Something pulling worldwide attraction to one beauty
Man and Woman made together partaking in a heavenly parade
luminously walking along one’s own brigade, fully powered
Clearly connecting kinetically communicating through the cosmos

A fabric to weave in and out of the one mused most
Enveloped in a theory of strings and mindful news posts
Set up a series of lyrical hosts discovering the deepest cognitive coasts

Visually experiencing the tides of thought in the eyes mind and believing in
Sending messages of safe passage over seas
Weathering storms, disease and all liquid creatures swimming about
Destructive demonstrated dance dialect positioning translation

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Will an eagle come to visit? by Dorina Li

reaching for the stars
lily of the death valley
heads to light through the wire-
mesh-netted-fence
unoffended

undisclosed

elevators are needless now

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You – A Poem By Steven Coty

You are beautiful
and I am a coward.
I keep running,
thinking I can escape it.
No distance
takes me
any further from
you.
I can’t hold onto
this image
I have of you. I
need
you to
leave my thoughts
forever.

You are wonderful
and I am a freak,
undeserving of your
presence.

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Silken Pellets by Spayne

Silken pellets slide down my gorge,
One by one,
They dissolve in my innards,
Spreading their warmth in me,
Like soft kisses on my heart,
Spreading fast, pleasuring me,
Hazing me quick, pulling me into this drowsy state,
This that I cherish,
Pulling me slow into the unconsiousness of pills,
Small circles of love,
Pull into a pigment of tones,
Red, orange, pink,
A haze of beauty, of that I adore.

Awaken in blurred fog,
My vision obscurred,
My ears muffled,
Walking colours fast,
In front lay a pair of eyes,
Staring at me,

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The Boiling Man by Joseph Michael

Shh, Listen…   There’s A Man…   Playing An Unusual Violin…

With The Strings That Are The Nerves…   And The Veins…   From His Own Arms…

How Wondrous The Sounds…   Of The Agonies Made…   By The Slicing And Dicing…

Down With The Lambs…   Up With The Larks…

Run To The Beds, Children…   Before It Gets Dark… Read More