Poem of the Week: April 12, 2020

Poem of the Week selected by Thomas Fucaloro:

Right now we are living through this tidal wave waiting for it to break. Kofi Antwi's poem “Tidal Wave” reminds us ...whatever stones, rebels, lay / beneath us—must pass, too.

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Poem of the Week

Kofi Antwi


tidal wave

an unusually high sea wave that is triggered especially by an earthquake. an unusual rise of water alongshore due to strong winds. something overwhelming epically in quantity or size.

 a ripple undercuts time, migrates bodies,
an overturn, deposits plights of war and or
love, withdrawn; the ghetto poet’s balcony—
honest brother’s doctrine, it was written in
blood, a vivid vortex redirects subjects,
erosion precipitates – a path clears and mirrors
synergy, currents heave one last wish; yesterdays
affairs remain prevalent, death capsulate time.
electric tendency surges through fazes,  
contemporary art remains nameless, as air
stifles; time is ominous. its dialect                        at bay; we –  tease possibilities
and placement, sell out in functions, buck, buck,
buck and pass, i am still awaiting the chronic,
to hit our shores, sea – speak our native
tongue of Twi. whatever stones, rebels, lay
beneath us— 
must pass, too

 

***

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Kofi Antwi is a writer, poet and a graduate of The Writer's Foundary. His poetry has been published by Kalahari Review, Breadcrumbs, and Rigorous. Kofi has a forthcoming poetry chapbook with Kattywompus Press titled Tidal Wave.



 

Honorable Mention

Brian Johnson

Rhubarb Leaf

No dogs in the rain, no flags, no newspaper:
Nothing smelly, soggy, flapping. Just the pane-gazing

One day, then hundreds more. Eye goes there—deathly street.
Have the buds come, the birdmix? Another ground to walk.  

Greater, lesser, I know my age. And remember
My once face. There was a round table 

In the family, and a spare feeling in the garden,
With a girl behind the rhubarb leaf.

That whispering, that first being nothing can slake
Or take—is God, is the curtain the rod pulls along.

***

Brian Johnson is the author of Torch Lake and Other Poems. He has taught creative writing at Yale, Providence College, and Southern Connecticut State.


 

Honorable Mention

Heller Levinson

Petrify

mangled in beer carcass in the opioid of bicycle theft in the expungement of all decency      scrounging among fetid dung heaps         calcified plummeted  scourged      found to be wanting, afflicted, pest-ridden, puss-oozing         suffering from panic disorder  hysteria  identity deprivation  agoraphobia claustrophobia acrophobia gynophobia eosophobia & phobias yet to announce themselves   under the underpinnings of scurvy & rot, ratatouille & rum, deprived of salinity   vapor   breast milk & sanity    berthed on the ship of fear sailing to dispirit through the isthmus of doom    scurvied   cataractious   apoplectic  scabrous       wracked through infinite warps of

bombinating excruciation

appropriated by

this

petrification

***

The originator of Hinge Theory, Heller Levinson lives in the Hudson Valley.


 

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