“America is a code word – always has been.”
“When the meaning of patriot changed for the worse /and the troops hadn’t returned, she took the yellow /ribbon off the door and the blue star from her window.”
“Now we have only the dirge of distant tires, the percussion of closing doors, /this horror movie at the point all goes black /and we know the next sound will make us jump.”
Jazz in a Small TownSo much depends on a thick southern air fusedwith honeysuckle, lilac; a little carcass and cowshit adds.One scent riffs of the next. So much of what I seealready has words, images and judgment attached:green to life, white and pure, blue skies and calm.But smell a rotting dog, hip fractured by car wheelsbeneath…
The electricity of the living and the dying churns through Dwight Gray’s poem.
In this timely poem, U.S. Army veteran Dwight Gray offers a stateside soldier’s take on xenophobia.
Army veteran and GMP favorite Dwight Gray shares a winning poem on war, socialization, and one boy’s path to soldierhood.
U.S. Army veteran Dwight Gray writes of fear and bravado on the shooting range.
Dwight Gray writes of family and fishing, in a poem where much lurks beneath the surface.
Dwight Gray brings home the ISIS beheading of journalist James Foley, and does so in a way that challenges cliche and oversimplification.
Poet and U.S. Army veteran Dwight Gray captures how war changes soldiers in this poem of departure and homecoming.
Dwight Gray’s “Mapmaking” makes the simple act of a child drawing appear as profound and miraculous as any myth of creation and destruction.
While this piece from Dwight Gray can be seen as a love poem (of a sort), it’s so much more than that. It’s a meditation on uncertainty and aging, perseverance and emptiness, the ill-defined “edges” of the “marriage bed.”
Retired soldier Dwight Gray presents a haunting meditation on youth, Halloween, and gun culture