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To You, from Your Secret Admirer
By Sharon Olds
I love the conversations we have
after making love—of course it’s just me, making
love to myself, talking to you,
loving you—though I do not really
know you, so I guess not loving you—
craving the dream of knowing you.
“When will I be able to...
- Love
- Desire & Passion
- The Body
- Relationships
- Meters
- Free Verse
- Techniques
- Imagery
- Types/Modes
- Epistle
- Passion
- + 4 more
To Jorge Luis Borges
By Sarina Romero
Jorge, no matter where we go together
there is always a great national myth bearing down.
The one I come from claims three thousand years
of history. The government funds artists to prove this.
It’s why there’s an official stamp on Carlos Fuentes’s
first novel,...
Meeting Elizabeth Bishop in Madras
By Tishani Doshi
So far from Worcester, Massachusetts.
Elizabeth—you, here! At my dentist's
in Madras, sitting with pressed knees,
leafing through back copies of Femina.
Teeth haven't changed much, except
now we have comfort sedation for root
canals, so there's little reason to cry,
which doesn't occlude the possibility
for epiphany, just...
Letter Written on a Ferry While Crossing Long Island Sound
By Anne Sexton
I am surprised to see
that the ocean is still going on.
Now I am going back
and I have ripped my hand
from your hand as I said I would
and I have made it this far
as I said I would
and I am on...
Open Memo To The Congressional Appropriations Committee And The Military Department Of Defense

By Sandra Maria Esteves
To Whom It Does Concern:

Could we please have just one space flight,
one nine-million dollar adventure into the great breath,
so that we could divide the loaves and...
To Frank Parker
By Robert Lowell
Forty years ago we were here
where we are now,
the same erotic May-wind blew
the trees from there to here—

the same tang of metal in the mouth,
the dirt-pierced wood of Cambridge.

Sometimes
you are so much younger than your face,
I know I am seeing...
A Letter
By Louise Bogan
I came here, being stricken, stumbling out
At last from streets; the sun, decreasing, took me
For days, the time being the last of autumn,
The thickets not yet stark, but quivering
With tiny colors, like some brush strokes in
The manner of the pointillists;...
- Nature
- Living
- Life Choices
- Sorrow & Grieving
- The Mind
- Types/Modes
- Epistle
- Disappointment
- Grief
- + 2 more
notes
By Danez Smith
dear suicide

how is the war? is it eating?
tell me of the girls charging
backwards into dumb tides
death’s wet mouth lapping
their ankles, knees, eyebrows.
tell me of the sissies like drunk
fireworks, rocketing into earth
afterimage burned into river
& cement memory.
how is the war? does...
Letter from the Mountains
By James K. Baxter
There was a message. I have forgotten it.
There was a journey to make. It did not come to anything.
But these nights, my friend, under the iron roof
Of this old rabbiters' hut where the traps
Are still hanging up on nails,
Lying in...
The Highland
By Linda Bierds
Dear One,

Do you have the time? Can you take
the time? Can you make
the time?

To visit me? The hospital doors have opened to spring,
and its land is high, dear one, each slope
with a vapor of crocuses. Its citizens, alas,

are low. Despondent, in...
Student Letter
By Stephen Sandy
After the declaration by emperor
to stop the war
many people in Tokyo killed themselves,
for instance, in front of the imperial palace.
But few people knows those facts.

Hence you must teach me
where you got the news or what sort of book
gave you the...
Dear Bryan Wynter
By W. S. Graham
1

This is only a note
To say how sorry I am
You died. You will realize
What a position it puts
Me in. I couldn’t really
Have died for you if so
I were inclined...
A Stone Knife
By James Schuyler
Dear Kenward,
What a pearl
of a letter knife. It's just
the thing I needed, something
to rest my eyes on, and always
wanted, which is to say
it's that of which I
felt the...
Epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot
By Alexander Pope
Shut, shut the door, good John! fatigu'd, I said,
Tie up the knocker, say I'm sick, I'm dead.
The dog-star rages! nay 'tis past a doubt,
All Bedlam, or Parnassus, is let out:
Fire in each eye, and papers in...
Dear Gaybashers
By Jill McDonough
The night we got bashed we told Rusty how
they drove up, yelled QUEER, threw a hot dog, sped off.

Rusty: Now, is that gaybashing? Or
are they just calling you queer? Good point.

Josey pitied the fools: who buys a perfectly good pack...
Report to Crazy Horse
By William E. Stafford
All the Sioux were defeated. Our clan
got poor, but a few got richer.
They fought two wars. I did not
take part. No one remembers your vision
or even your real name. Now
the children go to town and like
loud music. I married a...
[Dear Angry Mob,]
By Joshua Beckman
Dear Angry Mob,

Oak Wood Trail is closed to you. We
feel it unnecessary to defend our position,
for we have always thought of ourselves
(and rightly, I venture) as a haven for
those seeking a quiet and solitary
contemplation. We are truly sorry
for the inconvenience.

Signed,

...
Love Poem to Be Read to an Illiterate Friend
By Tess Gallagher
I have had to write this down
in my absence and yours. These
things happen. Thinking
of a voice added
I imagine a sympathy outside us
that protects the message
from what can’t help,
being said.

The times you’ve kept
your secret, putting on
glasses or glancing into a page
with...
Letter to Martín Espada
By Doug Anderson
Dear Martín:
In Izalco, while Christ waits for Easter
in his glass tomb in the cathedral
a single long note is blown on a trumpet
en el parque central. Los perros flacco
forage at the feet of la gente.
Los poetas mount the stage in a...
A Love Letter
By Russell Edson
Dear Miss,
First of all I want to say that I have enjoyed the imaginary possibility, built of course on the fact that such possibility does exist in nature: I have seen the birds and other forms of nonhumanity occur in...
- Love
- Desire & Passion
- Nature
- The Body
- Relationships
- Men & Women
- Types/Modes
- Epistle
- Prose Poem
- + 2 more

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