Today’s choice
Previous poems
Khairina Anindya, Genevieve Beech
Khair
At the feet
of al-Ka‘ba
you asked for a daughter.
You named me
Khair – Blessing.
I answered
inside you
forcing myself into your ribs
remaking you
in the emptiness of your lungs.
in the space he made—
his shoes
left in the doorway
your words—
not at the tip of your tongue
but caught at your teeth.
imprinting your face and his
I carry you
under my tongue.
Khairina Anindya is an engineer from Indonesia, currently based in the Netherlands. She writes poetry shaped by culture and memory. She enjoys reading across different literary traditions.
BIRTHLIGHT
You are ordinary
to the teenager on the bus,
the doctor at our six-week check.
Everywhere, mothers birth
their own gold-spun miracles
with features much like yours.
But I felt you move,
little wish, inside
my body, inside its mist.
I knew you first as fable,
a not-yet thing darting under skin,
a lantern held in the halfway.
Before I siphoned your light
outside me, and you flickered,
soared, and the world was changed.
Genevieve Beech is the creator of Motherlore Magazine on care, matrescence and ecology. Motherlore can be found in the Women’s Art Library, Goldsmiths, and featured in ‘M(other)ing’ 2025 at Virginia Tech Perspective Gallery. Genevieve enjoys the many veins of bookmaking.
Morgan Harlow
She hadn’t lost a child but if she had she imagined it would be like that.
Antony Owen and Martin Figura on Remembrance Day
Let fathers bind their sons
to altars, so the wind
might winnow the chaff.
Stephen C. Curro
calm river
again, his fishing line
caught on a tree
James Norcliffe
Sarsaparilla Road
travels through swamps
and reeds, over a black
water creek and a narrow bridge
David Hanlon
Not in that parking lot,
not in that residential area,
not in that blue car
splashed with mud.
Mana Misaghi
we make sure to pack a deck of cards for the train, or a sunday afternoon visit to the park. the cards will give our hands something tangible to do . . .
Taḋg Paul
An algorithm guides me through the keys
Each stanza nested in a formal loop
Mat Riches
Hey kid, this won’t mean that much to you yet,
but I didn’t taste my first proper curry
till at least twenty-one . . .
David Sapp
Aimless between
Dropping out
Of art school
And absolutely no
Friggin’ money . . .
