Poetry of Connection


“Poetry is a matter of life, not just a matter of language,” wrote Lucille Clifton, and though the twenty poems featured below are certainly rich in language, they are even richer in their portrayals of what it is to be human, with all its worries and wins, loves and losses, struggles and salvations. From a young Native woman grappling with her heritage, to a gay man standing up to his mother’s bigotry, to a family coping with a son’s meth-fueled arrests, to a man’s affirmation of his blackness, to an impassioned testament to the love between spouses, and much more, these poets remind us of our shared experiences and awaken our empathy. What more could we ask of great poems?

  • Kenzie Allen

    How to Be a Real Indian

    You’re one Indian and a fraud, flying toward Delaware.

  • Diannely Antigua

    We Never Stop Talking about Our Mothers

    We are all carrying our mothers, and we are all better daughters.

  • Victoria Chang

    Obit

    Did the blood rush to my face or to my fingertips?

  • Leila Chatti

    Muslim Girlhood

    The news assumed every Muslim girl-heart was a bomb.

  • Chen Chen

    i’m sorry, i’m sorry

    i’ll be kissing my boyfriend’s entire face very well. i’m happy, very.

  • Madeleine Cravens

    The Feast of Saint Francis

    2024 Narrative Prize Winner
    Cardinal in my rib cage. Red plumage everywhere.

  • Natalie Diaz

    Downhill Triolets

    2012 Narrative Prize Winner
    Ring at 2 a.m. means meth’s got my brother in the slammer again.

  • Nikki Giovanni

    Legacies

    she wiped her hands saying “lord these children”

  • Edward Hirsch

    To My Seventeen-Year-Old Self

    Your friends are sniffing glue in the back of an Impala.

  • Langston Hughes

    The Weary Blues

    My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

  • Richard Jones

    The Novel

    Paris to Rome, the French hated me for crying.

  • Raven Leilani

    The Food Chain

    Predators don’t go around showing their cutlery.

  • W. S. Merwin

    Gift

    I must be led by what was given to me as streams are led by it.

  • Philip Metres

    I Will Meet You at the End

    We will rupture the calendar and demolish the clocks.

  • Naomi Shihab Nye

    My Mom Serves Tea to Her Robbers

    She remained lucid, except for this frolic, this boisterous tête-à-tête.

  • Sharon Olds

    Nevada City, California, Aubade

    I can hardly believe that dancer’s willow ripple was my torso.

  • Paisley Rekdal

    Baucis and Philemon

    2018 Narrative Prize Winner
    A mild, almost dreamy pleasure begins to suffuse his face.

  • Ocean Vuong

    No One Knows the Way to Heaven

    2015 Narrative Prize Winner
    Why are my hands always empty when touching those I love?

  • Dean Young

    Changing Genres

    All that matters is a kiss at the end of a dark hall.

  • Yusef Komunyakaa

    English

    I heard a girl talking, but they weren’t words.