The NY Literary Magazine

A Distinguished Selection of the Finest Modern Literature

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poems with deep meaning

“Different” A Powerful Poem by Rutendo C C

You, me, us, we,
Are our differences all we can see?
We’re similar in ways but we’re not the same,
And is that really a flaw, something to blame?


We stress the fact that we’re all counted as equal,
We think like that is true, but we act like that is deceitful.
And tell me this, is one gender greater than the other?
If so, what has your sister done to be better than your brother?

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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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Don’t Shoot by Rutendo C C

Don’t shoot,
he calls out yet you pull the trigger regardlessly.
What bothers you more is his skin,
not how you live heartlessly.

Don’t shoot,
she cries out knowing her precious child did nothing wrong.
Now you can add him to the list of
lives prematurely gone.

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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?

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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.

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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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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”

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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

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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.

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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

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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.

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“Your Country Needs You” A Poem with Deep Meaning by Tom Higgins

Once upon a time I saw a poster
Of a general pointing straight at me
And the words below shouted out
That a soldier I should be.

Yes a soldier now that was a thought
I’d never had before
I didn’t fight, I’d never fought
And I’d never been to war.

But myself, and millions of others
Decided to heed the call
And despite the tears of our mothers
We trooped off all proud and tall

Together as mates from our towns
All over these sceptered isles
We left young and happy, but soon frowns
Replaced our naïve smiles.

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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.

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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

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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).

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The Eye Sees it All by Druppels

The eye sees it all
You need a wake-up call
We should not sacrifice our privacy
in exchange for imaginary safety

It is just an excuse
to control, to abuse
Cameras in every street
check where and when we meet

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Youth Envy by Esteban Luis Soto

Plump and fluorescent skin
And eyes with bottomless wells of life
Scan this world without regret

Supple hearts that swell
With charcoal-filtered love
Strike strong against virgin chests

Ernest ears that hear only
Poetry and peace, perk to
The direction of their mother’s whisper

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Generation Backwards by Harry J. Casseus

I’m scared for my generation.
We lack prudence, & bend on
Imitation.

Sour we are, we no longer water the roots to our fruitful aspirations.
How are we all stuck in this condiment of indignation.

I’m scared for my generation.
When walking down my own street I catch a bullet for my pigmentation.
And we scream black lives matter creating a tumultuous pattern
Like we’re not the ones doing the eliminating.

Women sleeping with men to fill spaces that have long been vacant.
Men sleeping with women whom they find better naked.
The redundancy order
Of a tireless occupation
We desire a quick fix
More than the desire to make it.

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