Every port is open to the universe. We accept submissions of poetry to Herb Port of Poets from anywhere in the world. As a rule, all the submitted poems will appear in this blog. For guidelines, please click the link below.
Soul Diver
I dive into the human sea-bottom
I search for a soul like a clear pearl
An extraordinary secretion inside the shell-body
Guarded by the hands of a water nymph
Distorted yet brilliant
Resembling the softness of white flesh
Its core the trematode in ancient darkness
Its kernel a nothing grain of sand
Once Again
A person full of hope
is already hope.
A person seeking the way
is already a new way.
A truly good person
is already a good world.
untitled
after we met
i turned
into a moth
approached the light
and burned up
you were worth it
No-tell hotel
As Sunday comes to close
I open the curtains in the south-facing room
From my chair
I can watch the no-tell hotel on the beach
Against a backdrop of darkness
Stirred by the heat
Distant Memory
Right now, I am strolling along the green sidewalks of Gaien Nishi Dori Avenue. I am 80 centimeters tall and proud of my long legs and pure white fur. I am called Borzoi, which means agile in Russian. However, I walk very slowly to keep up with my two males of the human animal followers. People say I'm proud, but I'm not like common dogs, so it's only natural. The memories that linger in my blood from my ancestors are vivid. I ran around in all directions chasing rabbits in the snowfield as far as the eye can see.I was also very good at zigzag running. I even competed with horses controlled by humans, and I could run long distances with ease. The sky and forests were big. I could see the frozen city of Petersburg in winter and the Neva River from the back of my eyes.
The Bellybutton
Since having had that cord cut
I had to start being myself
Driven by the first breath
Breathing hard with all my might
I finally found my voice, and began to speak
I can’t expose my bellybutton to the public
Summer Morning
(Reflection on 'Summer Evening' a sonnet by John Clare)
In the dew, footprints marked by silver jewels,
Lightfoot pads gently, raising paw to pose
boldly by the meadow's edge and views
the land and sniffs the breeze with wrinkled nose.
Below the pond the iris banks, plashed white and gold
half-hide the chicken coop, shut tight
A Day Out in London
I love a day out in London it’s not hard
With a one-day travel card
This will get me around without a fuss
By tube, train or bus
The first stop is Covent Garden for a coffee and a bun
And watch the street entertainers who are so much fun
Autumn Interim
The last, best embers
Of the summer’s heat
Are in September’s gift.
A gentle, yellow thrift,
Filtered by depleted
Trees. The air remembers.
Citrus
We are very different, but not completely different,
It' s enough if we have a little bit something in common,
"Isn't this good?"
"Yes, it's very good!"
We peel a delicious citrus and say, "Wow, it's so sour!"
It'll be nice if we think each other's face is lovely.
