Poem-a-Day, #NationalPoetryMonth & more, celebrating 90 years as the nation's leading champion of poets, poetry, and the work of poetry organizations.

New York, NY
I, too, am America. —Langston Hughes #FourthofJuly poets.org/poem/i-too
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"It has to be both: beautiful & political at the same time. I’m not interested in art that is not in the world. And it’s not just the narrative, it’s not just the story; it’s the language & the structure & what’s going on behind it." —Toni Morrison (1931–2019)
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What did I know, what did I know of love’s austere and lonely offices? —Robert Hayden poets.org/poetsorg/poem/thos…
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think about it, please, a little? —James Baldwin, born #OTD in 1924 poets.org/poetsorg/poet/jame…
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"I'm a firm believer that language and how we use language determines how we act, and how we act then determines our lives and other people's lives." —Ntozake Shange, RIP (1948 - 2018) poets.org/poetsorg/poet/ntoz…
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The towers of Notre Dame cut clean and gray The evening sky, and pale from left to right A hundred bridges leap from either quay. —Willa Cather in 1923 poets.org/poetsorg/poem/pari…
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O, let America be America again— The land that never has been yet— And yet must be—the land where every man is free. —Langston Hughes, born #OTD in 1902 poets.org/poetsorg/poem/let-… #BlackHistoryMonth
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A poem by Ross Gay in memory of Eric Garner. poets.org/poetsorg/poem/smal…
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Let’s go back to that. —Naomi Shihab Nye poets.org/poetsorg/poem/red-…
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Dear March - Come in - How glad I am - I hoped for you before - —Emily Dickinson #March #WomensHistoryMonth poets.org/poetsorg/poem/dear…
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Dear March - Come in - How glad I am - I hoped for you before - —Emily Dickinson poets.org/poem/dear-march-co… #WomensHistoryMonth
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we protested but not enough, we opposed them but not enough. I was in my bed, around my bed America was falling —Ilya Kaminsky @ilya_poet poets.org/poem/we-lived-happ…
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Late Congressman and Civil Rights leader John Lewis, when asked by @POETSorg in April 2015 about his favorite lines of poetry, sent in the last two lines of “Ode on a Grecian Urn” by John Keats, which he had printed on his official letterhead and signed: poets.org/late-congressman-j…
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Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore —Naomi Shihab Nye #WorldKindnessDay poets.org/poetsorg/poem/kind…
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I rise I rise I rise. —Maya Angelou, born #OTD in 1928 #nationalpoetrymonth poets.org/poetsorg/poem/stil…
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i need to know their names those women i would have walked with —Lucille Clifton poets.org/poetsorg/poem/lost…
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The library is dangerous, full Of answers. If you go inside, You may not come out The same person who went in. —Alberto Rios #Libraries poets.org/poetsorg/poem/dont…
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The darkest hour is just before the dawn, and that, I see, which does not guarantee power to draw the next breath, nor abolish the suspicion that the brightest hour we will ever see occurs just before we cease to be. —James Baldwin, born #OTD in 1924 poets.org/poet/james-baldwin
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Dear March - Come in - How glad I am - I hoped for you before - —Emily Dickinson #March #WomensHistoryMonth poets.org/poem/dear-march-co…
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Sisters there is a hole in my heart that is bearing your shapes over and over as I read only the headlines of this morning's newspaper. —Audre Lorde, born #OTD in 1934 poets.org/poetsorg/poet/audr…
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Finally understood I am the conductor of my own life, and will be even after I die. I, like the trees, will decide what I become: —Andrea Gibson, 1975–2025 poets.org/poem/how-worst-day…
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My children are so young when I turn off the radio as the news turns to counting the dead or naming the act, they aren’t even suspicious. My children are so young they cannot imagine a world like the one they live in. —Carrie Fountain #PoemADay
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The library is dangerous, full Of answers. If you go inside, You may not come out The same person who went in. —Alberto Ríos #NationalLibraryWeek poets.org/poetsorg/poem/dont…
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My god, I thought, my whole life I’ve been under her raincoat thinking it was somehow a marvel that I never got wet. —Ada Limón @adalimon #MothersDay #MothersDay2019 poets.org/poetsorg/poem/rain… More poems to share: poets.org/poetsorg/poems-mot…
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History says, Don't hope On this side of the grave, But then, once in a lifetime The longed-for tidal wave Of justice can rise up And hope and history rhyme. —Seamus Heaney
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Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. —Mary Oliver, 1935-2019 poets.org/poetsorg/poet/mary…
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let them think they have accepted arrogance in the universe, then bring them to gynecologists not unlike themselves. —Lucille Clifton poets.org/poetsorg/poem/wish…
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These poems they are things that I do in the dark reaching for you whoever you are and are you ready? —June Jordan, born on this day in 1936 poets.org/poem/these-poems
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These poems they are things that I do in the dark reaching for you whoever you are and are you ready? —June Jordan
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The library is dangerous, full Of answers. If you go inside, You may not come out The same person who went in. —Alberto Ríos #BannedBooksWeek poets.org/poem/dont-go-libra…
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i need to know their names those women i would have walked with —Lucille Clifton #WomensMarch poets.org/poetsorg/poem/lost…
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Absolutely, there were some forests left! Absolutely, we still had some lakes! —Matthew Olzmann poets.org/poetsorg/poem/lett…
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I, too, sing America. —Langston Hughes (b. #OnThisDay in 1902) #BlackHistoryMonth poets.org/poetsorg/poem/i-to…
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A poem by U.S. Poet Laureate Tracy K. Smith: poets.org/poetsorg/poem/mans…
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These poems they are things that I do in the dark reaching for you whoever you are and are you ready? —June Jordan #WorldPoetryDay poets.org/poetsorg/poem/thes…
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To become obscure among human beings, but clearer in all relations, to become the night, thickening to mist over the water, vanishing with first light of morning. —Kevin Killian, RIP (1952 - 2019) poets.org/poet/kevin-killian
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The writing hand: in vain —Jack Kerouac, born #OTD in 1922 poets.org/poetsorg/poet/jack…
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Because I could not stop for Death – He kindly stopped for me – The Carriage held but just Ourselves – And Immortality. —Emily Dickinson poets.org/poem/because-i-cou…
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Let joy. Let entering. Let rage and calm join. Let quail come. Let winter impress you. Let spring. —Linda Gregg, who passed away yesterday at the age of 76 poets.org/poetsorg/poet/lind…
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Before I built a wall I’d ask to know What I was walling in or walling out, And to whom I was like to give offense. Something there is that doesn’t love a wall, That wants it down. —Robert Frost poets.org/poetsorg/poem/mend…
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Wait. Don’t go too early. —Galway Kinnell Read the full poem: poets.org/poetsorg/poem/wait…
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"They'll see how beautiful I am And be ashamed— I, too, am America." —Langston Hughes, born #OTD in 1902. poets.org/poem/i-too
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I would do it all over again: Be the harbor and set the sail, Loose the breeze and harness the gale, Cherish the harvest of what I have been. Better the summit to scale. Better the summit to be. —Toni Morrison poets.org/poem/eve-rememberi…
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The darkest hour is just before the dawn, and that, I see, which does not guarantee power to draw the next breath, nor abolish the suspicion that the brightest hour we will ever see occurs just before we cease to be. —James Baldwin, born #OTD in 1924 poets.org/poetsorg/poet/jame…
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What shall I do with all this heartache? —Joy Harjo poets.org/poetsorg/poem/spea…
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We know ourselves to be part of mystery. It is unspeakable. It is everlasting. It is for keeps. —Joy Harjo, who has just been appointed the next U.S. poet laureate poets.org/poem/keeps
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There are things you can't reach. But you can reach out to them, and all day long. The wind, the bird flying away. —Mary Oliver (1935–2019) poets.org/poetsorg/poet/mary…
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When a stranger appears at your door, feed him for three days before asking who he is —Naomi Shihab Nye poets.org/poetsorg/poem/red-…
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To fling my arms wide In some place of the sun, To whirl and to dance Till the white day is done. Then rest at cool evening Beneath a tall tree While night comes on gently, Dark like me— That is my dream! —Langston Hughes, born #OTD #BlackHistoryMonth poets.org/poetsorg/poet/lang…
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These poems they are things that I do in the dark reaching for you whoever you are and are you ready? —June Jordan #NationalPoetryDay poets.org/poem/these-poems
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“However,” replied the universe —Stephen Crane poets.org/poetsorg/poem/man-…
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And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the Daffodils. —William Wordsworth, born #OTD in 1770 poets.org/poetsorg/poem/i-wa…
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Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore —Naomi Shihab Nye “Kindness” was Poets.org's most popular poem in 2018 by a contemporary poet: poets.org/poetsorg/stanza/ki…
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Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting— over and over announcing your place in the family of things. —Mary Oliver #PoemADay poets.org/poetsorg/poem/wild…
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Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before —Edgar Allan Poe poets.org/poem/raven
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The border is a beautiful piece of paper folded carelessly in half. —Alberto Ríos @AlbertoRiosAZ poets.org/poetsorg/poem/bord…
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All poetry is a form of hope. —Dean Young #PoemADay
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It grieves me to think the dead won't see them— these things we depend on, they disappear. —Louise Glück (1943-2023) poets.org/poem/night-migrati…
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In this time of uncertainty and great concern, people are turning to poems to seek language that centers us. In response to this need and to help our readers stay connected in the weeks ahead, we invite you to join a new initiative called Shelter in Poems: bit.ly/shelterinpoems
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You think I'm not a goddess? Try me. This is a torch song. Touch me and you'll burn. —Margaret Atwood, who turns 80 today poets.org/poet/margaret-atwo…
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I can’t help it. I will never get over making everything such a big deal. —Ada Limón @adalimon poets.org/poetsorg/poem/last…
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because I cannot apologize to the tree, to my own self I say, I am sorry. I am sorry I have been so reckless with your life. —Ada Limón poets.org/poem/salvage-0
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April is the cruellest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing Memory and desire, stirring Dull roots with spring rain. —T. S. Eliot poets.org/poem/waste-land
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Unable, it seems, to fear what was too large to be comprehended. —Jane Hirshfield poets.org/poetsorg/poem/glob…
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may the tide that is entering even now the lip of our understanding carry you out beyond the face of fear may you kiss the wind then turn from it —Lucille Clifton poets.org/poem/blessing-boat…
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Beware the ides of March. —William Shakespeare Read excerpts from "Julius Caesar": #IdesofMarch #BewareTheIdesofMarch poets.org/poetsorg/text/exce…
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Remember the sky that you were born under, know each of the star’s stories. —Joy Harjo #NativeAmericanHeritageMonth poets.org/poetsorg/poem/reme…
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My god, I thought, my whole life I’ve been under her raincoat thinking it was somehow a marvel that I never got wet. —Ada Limón poets.org/poem/raincoat #MothersDay
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Emma Lazarus's "The New Colossus," forever a beacon of hope. poets.org/poetsorg/poem/new-…
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The stars do not blow away as we do. —Linda Gregg, who passed away yesterday at the age of 76 poets.org/poetsorg/poet/lind…
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Celebrate Gwendolyn Brooks's centennial with this new collection of poems, essays, archival audio & more: poets.org/poetsorg/collectio…
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“History has its eyes on us.” —@TheAmandaGorman
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I wish maps would be without borders & that we belonged to no one & to everyone at once —Yesenia Montilla poets.org/poetsorg/poem/maps
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"Poetry is not only dream and vision; it is the skeleton architecture of our lives. It lays the foundations for a future of change, a bridge across our fears of what has never been before." —Audre Lorde, born #OTD poets.org/poetsorg/poet/audr…
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Write in the light of all the languages you know the earth contains, you murmur in my ear. This is pure transport. —Meena Alexander, RIP (1951 - 2018) poets.org/poetsorg/poet/meen…
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there are words that I cannot separate, like father, mother and child —José B. González poets.org/poetsorg/poem/line…
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You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, I’ll rise. —Maya Angelou #MLKDay #MLK90 poets.org/poetsorg/poem/stil…
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Let it be known: I did not fall from grace. I leapt to freedom. —Ansel Elkins poets.org/poem/autobiography… #InternationalWomenDay2020
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To what purpose, April, do you return again? Beauty is not enough. You can no longer quiet me with the redness Of little leaves opening stickily. I know what I know. —Edna St. Vincent Millay #April #NationalPoetryMonth poets.org/poetsorg/poem/spri…
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loving you is a long river running. —Sonia Sanchez poets.org/poetsorg/poem/haik…
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The library is a quiet place. Angels and gods huddled In dark unopened books. —Charles Simic #NationalLibraryWeek poets.org/poetsorg/poem/libr…
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with his very large hands, perhaps, in all likelihood, he put gently into the earth some plants —Ross Gay, writing in honor of Eric Garner, who died on this day in 2014 poets.org/poem/small-needful…
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Perhaps the truth is that every song of this country has an unsung third stanza, something brutal snaking underneath us as we blindly sing the high notes with a beer sloshing in the stands —Ada Limón @adalimon #July4th #IndependenceDay poets.org/poem/new-national-…
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I will take the sun in my mouth and leap into the ripe air Alive —E. E. Cummings #PoemADay
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And now you try Your handful of notes; The clear vowels rise like balloons. —Sylvia Plath, born #OTD poets.org/poem/morning-song
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Let it be known: I did not fall from grace. I leapt to freedom. —Ansel Elkins #InternationalWomensDay poets.org/poetsorg/womens-hi…
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Thank you my life long afternoon late in this spring that has no age —W. S. Merwin #PoemADay
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No one believes it is happening now. —Czeslaw Milosz, born #OTD in 1911 poets.org/poetsorg/poem/song…
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