by Noah Vale She said that man touched her inappropriately.That was a problem to me. I’m conflictedmaybe it’s my mother in me,maybe my father,maybe both. I love her.But something in me kept quiet. When she asked me to speak,I said, “next week.”Or maybe, “I’ll see.” She broke a little in front of me.And I felt... Continue Reading →

By Noah Vale I wrote a poem today and hated it And in its mirror, I hated me How can I love a woman when I grew up Thinking my mother hated me And how can I have a daughter and be the The father she needs A cruel reminder thinking a woman Deserves it... Continue Reading →

By Noah Vale A calling in flame and drumbeat.They gathered in silence older than bone,Around a fire that didn’t burn,But remembered.Ash and ember spoke my name,In tongues I hadn’t learned yet:YanguYanguYangu!The drums weren’t playedThey were summoned;Each beat, a footstep from the unseen.Each rhythm, a fingerprint of my past,Tapping at my chest chanting:Do you hear us... Continue Reading →

By Noah Vale The women I love I could never writePoems aboutThe words would slip through my fingers,Spilled ink drying before meaning couldForm.But whiskey, painkillers, and cigarettesI could lead forums about,Speak in tongues of smoke and burn,Turn my wounds into well-crafted sentences. They listen when I talk about the bottle’sComfort,The numbing lull of little white... Continue Reading →