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Of the Day

Today's Quote
  • Plato
    "Man - a being in search of meaning."
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Today I Found Out
Poem of the Day
  • Poem of the Day: Confessor
    This is where you leave me.
    Filling of old salt and ponderous,

    what’s left of your voice in the air.
    Blue honeycreeper thrashed out

    to a ragged wind, whole months
    spent crawling this white beach

    raked like a thumb, shucking, swallowing
    the sea’s benediction, pearled oxides.

    Out here I am the body invented naked,
    woman emerging from cold seas, herself

    the raw eel-froth met beneath her tangles,
    who must believe with all her puckering

    holes. What wounds the Poinciana slits
    forth, what must turn red eventually.

    The talon-mouths undressing. The cling-cling
    bird scratching its one message; the arm

    you broke reset and broke again. Caribbean.
    Sky a wound I am licking, until I am drawn new

    as a lamb, helpless in the chicken wire of my sex.
    I let every stranger in. Watch men change faces

    with the run-down sun, count fires
    in the loom-holes of their pickups, lines of rot,

    studying their scarred window-plagues,
    nightshade my own throat closed tight

    against a hard hand. Then all comes mute
    in my glittering eye. All is knocked back,

    slick hem-suck of the dark surf, ceramic
    tiles approaching, the blur of a beard.

    The white tusk of his ocean goring me.
    This world unforgiving in its boundaries.

    The day’s owl and its omen
    slipping a bright hook

    into my cheek —

    Source: Poetry December 2015

    Safiya Sinclair

    More poems by this author


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