Butterfly Laughter By Katherine Mansfield In the middle of our porridge plates There was a blue butterfly painted And each morning we...

Ephemeral Stream By: Elizabeth Willis This is the way water thinks about the desert. The way the thought of water gives you something to...

February – not everywhere Such days, when trees run downwind, their arms stretched before them Such days, when the sun’s in a drawer and...

FATHER CARRIES ME ACROSS A FIELD My father carries me across a field. It’s night and there are trenches filled with snow. Thick mud....

Poem of the Week Letters from God to Keene By William Doreski Today as I walk to the square I find letters from God dropped in the street...

Poem of the Week Poe By David Thane Cornell The thought of him getting kicked out of west point is of no concern to me I rather praise...

Poem of the Week Split An egg hatched and a Polish Lowland Sheepdog, who insisted on telling the most boring story anyone had ever heard,...

Sweeping Away By Ron Padgett What I want to do is to forget everything I ever knew about poetry and sweep the pine needles off the cabin...

Catching frogs. By D S Maolalai the sun reaches down under earth's deep moist surface, grabbing the shoulder of flowers to pull upward...

Pink Sound I didn't feel sleepy at the time, but I did smell the dreamy floral scent from the pink sound. Do you see the celebration of...

Poem of the Week is a regular column published by Arc Magazine

March In Washington Against The Vietnam War Robert Bly November 27th 1965 Looking down, I see feet moving calmly, gaily, almost as if...

The Red Wheelbarrow By William Carlos Williams - 1883-1963 so much depends upon a red wheel barrow glazed with rain water beside the...

London to Edinburgh I’m waiting for the moment when the train crosses the Border and home creeps closer at seventy miles an hour. I...

LISTENERS At the bookstore, People would come in Wanting to express Their political opinions. They were especially bad When an election...

Lines The lines continue to flow Long after they are formed. They spiral and loop On And On Without interruption. As though they are...

SHORE LEAVE the sea louder in the dark throwing off its shackles walking into town mystified seagulls flying over with a caw a sea no...

Return to Scalpay The ferry wades across the kyle. I drive The car ashore On to a trim tarred road. A car on Scalpay? Yes, and a road...

Information BY DAVID IGNATOW This tree has two million and seventy-five thousand leaves. Perhaps I missed a leaf or two but I do feel...

In the poem SOULCRAFT we see the boundary is effaced which marks the mystical seams between the mundane and ethereal world. Poetical...