Beauty

The Fall Revisited The implications of the fall are endless in their reach; that lowly serpent had such gall, Eve's failure to beseech. Though what they chose when they did bite that infamous red fruit was bad enough for God to smite them; He withheld pursuit. Preferring then to extricate...

It's first of sweaty, sweltering daybreaks of summer new. The fewer trailing steps of parting spring are still moist-fresh with drakes' claw prints and redolent green pollen specks. The waters in the troughs and dew on leaves bid their tearful adieus with vapour-hands looking athwart through narrow foliar sieves at...

  While strolling around an illustrious lair, I was caught by a breeze of regret in the air, For gazing I was on old buildings of stone, All graced with such courage and dignity their own, With worthy exploits and a mind once refined, These guardians of masses, once seeking...

Born at Constantinople in 1762 of a French father and Greek mother, André Chénier grew up in pre-revolutionary France and studied at Paris. Well-read, and enamored with ancient Greece, he is considered one of the last classicists in verse, and for his sentiment, a precursor to the romantics. He was executed...

03.27.18 A smattering of rain above a hall That holds her earthy fragments, broken, spent, A woman who, in life, out-did them all, And e’en in death defies the elements. O, what would she make now of her dear France, Beset by enemies who walk among us, Tracing our very...

Note: Joseph Charles MacKenzie would like to offer a 25% discount on the first edition hardcover of Sonnets for Christ the King to his fellow poets and readers of the Society of Classical Poets, in gratitude for their many edifying comments. Just click here or on the book cover image...

  I may have borne them each, but it was you, Whose shoulders carried weight I never knew, You set the bar so high, so straight, so true, The surest, strongest Dad?  Well, that was you. I may have dried their tears, but it was you, Who made them get...

Form Sonnet Turn the page and write again today Make something come out of an eager mind Make something in a new and different way In something both of earthy and refined For when I strive it seems that I can find What I am looking for in forms like...

A short film by Gleb Zavlanov. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VxnDmkKqaF4&feature=youtu.be Sonnet 18 Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer’s lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,...

  I Love This Life a rondeau I love this life in spite of all the trying times and every wall I must tear down to find success, although sometimes my happiness is thwarted, slowing to a crawl. When lofty expectations fall back to the earth, when I feel small...

Curtain Up! Sunset and the robins sing, nightingales reply song that summer evenings bring, weeping willows sigh from lawns and from thickets a chorus of crickets ____serenades but remains out of sight as we stroll hand-in-hand while this heavenly band ____entertains in the silver moonlight.   The Dance of Life Performance of unending grace,...

Canto 2 is part of a sequence of 33 Cantos called The English Cantos that James Sale is attempting to write in the style – and using the terza rima – of Dante. His aim is to create a contemporary epic of heaven and hell that stands four-square against the...

Wild Strawberry On summer strolls, I often find. Wild strawberry flowering in the wood, White leaf, gold bud, my cheerless mood Is ruffled clear, as fragrant wind Blows equally through flower, through mind, And makes it plainly understood, That I am one with nature's brood, To cone, am fused, to...

I have not been to Medford, nor Milan; I have not seen a war, nor won the peace; I’ve risen to six thousand cloudy dawns that – not once – promised sun, and storms to cease. I have not stood to spurn the March of Time; nor have I dreamed...

Sometimes, when the light and the mists of the day _Settle holy and soft on the edge of the night, When the sights and the sounds of the world melt away, _And the vision that lives in the soul takes flight, __That feeling comes on I felt since I was...

for Czesław Miłosz For a moment as brief and long as eternity he sees what the blind man sees in the blink of an eye: a sun that never sets, forms wrought from gold, purity before it falls or is restored to grace, the grey sky beheld from the far...

My Garden Lush, fresh-pruned verdure shades the cobbled path, It bursts with rich-hued blossoms strewn about Whence sweet aromas waft, blend, and enswathe, And droops with luscious, nectar-swollen fruit. But leaves spread greedily to hoard the light; And tendrils curl to choke a rival stem. And upstarts rise amid the...

The intricacies of script and figure are amazing. Kudos to the faithful who made contributions large or small. By far this volume is the greatest ever to present illuminated gospel. Ink was carefully applied to skins of calves bred for this very purpose. Just to think of such devotion—nothing done...

The Seabirds Seagulls, on the air they glide, Over the waves to the land; Soaring across the sky, so wide, To softly land on the sand. Pelicans, floating in the sky, Upon the wind, so free; Across the sunset, up so high, Then dive down to the sea. Invisibly, the...

Translation by David B. Gosselin   If I from this darkened valley Where the gloomy vapors creep Might by some wonder swiftly flee My soul could blessedly weep! Gazing upon this pure serene Eternal hills through heaven fare, Had I wings to climb this scene My spirit would scale the...

. . Boasted Viridian Said Viridian Green to Cerulean Blue, “The waves would be boring without me and you, The crashing unflashing, the sheen without glow, Silver unplugged: not luminous Bro.” . . Of Weeding and Air Conditioning No facial expression announcing the work No special confession "look I didn't...

Song of Us Face to face, polite and careful, Tentative we were, and prayerful, Neither one of us would dare pull More from this than met the eye. . . . Yet Side by side we worked together, Hands of flesh with hands of leather, And we slowly pondered whether...

  Napoleon in New Orleans So the sun of Austerlitz has set. I had many triumphs, but it’s the few defeats – Leipzig, Waterloo especially – I struggle to forget. I struggled to rearrange all of Europe as I alone saw fit. Quite reasonably, it didn’t submit. Was I Jacob...

Poet's Note: In this sonnet I'm paying tribute to the patriotic bikers who make their annual pilgrimage to Washington DC to participate in Rolling Thunder's First Amendment Demonstration Run every year on the Sunday before Memorial Day.  While the bike run through the capital does get its minute of news...

By James A. Tweedie Call me a snob but I am generally attracted to what is commonly referred to as “great art” or the “masterpieces.” Over the years I have looked at famous paintings and I have looked at less famous paintings. I have decided that famous paintings are famous...

Heritage as Hope I saw the cricket scene in evening light, In Windsor light with calm men moving through The evening air and dressed in cricket white. Long centuries are contained beneath the blue Of evening sky which folds the chestnut blooms In its embrace as two teams play by...

All poems translated from Russian. The Rock A gold cloud rested the whole night Upon the breast of a huge rock; And cheerfully at dawn it dashed Into the blue not to come back Wet traces in the crevices Of ancient stone like tears remained; And deep in thought alone...

Joy Comes Softly silent; kindly kept, ___the haunted hours crept. Moonlit minutes—marked and mute, ___the lonely doubt takes root. The tendrils twine; the rootlets reach. ___Somehow the sun must breach. Morning breaks; my bridegroom’s come— ___virtue’s vigil done. The light of love shines stronger still. ___Awake, Amore’s thrill!   What...

Bridge of Memories a symmetrelle in mixed syllabic meter A bridge built of memories spans the gap between future and past. Although life may speed by us too fast, from every experience, knowledge we gain. Each second of happiness, boredom and pain; far too many moments for us to retain...

The Archaeological Gardens at Giardini-Naxos 7 March 2018 The stones are overgrown with clover now, Drowned by daisies, fresh cape sorrel too; Orange or lemon globes gleam from each bough; Mankind’s Old’s usurped by Nature’s New. To think such careful craft should come to this, We muse while roaming at...

The pika climbs the snowless slopes in hope of finding cooler climes. A tailless kin to hares, he shelters under stones to cope with rising temps within his furry skin. The ball of fur appears to roll than hop. From rock to rock, he gathers summer sedge and dries his...

  Tulip Tree in Bloom, January Every working day I pass a tulip tree on yellow grass and strain to see, when it appears, petals out this time of year. Even our southern winter's strong-- it hunkers down and won't move on: A sky that presses close its gray; chilling...

  The Fairies Danced The fairies danced and shone like diamonds on __The lake below. My pole across my knees; __My creel on my lap; the sun and trees __Stood still; the mountain breeze had passed and gone. I sat on granite, smooth and cool, and chose __A fly (a...

The Devil’s Details There’s a devil in the details, Those traits we like to sort; There’s a devil in the details, The minutiae we contort. We once marched for color-blindness; Now we muster into tribes. Retreat is called advancement In this war of diatribes. Like a costume on the outside,...

Lullaby When you sang to your baby boy did other hearts not fill with joy those few who just happened to hear? for even on their darkest day your lullaby would chase away every doubt and pain and fear the angels never sang like this nor heard the pure exquisite...

  The painful birth of motherhood So few have really understood Is but a shadow that foretells The pain our parents knew so well Of children singing out farewell As to their freedom they rush out With a merry, happy shout “See you, mom, papa,” they call Do they look...

''A good poem helps to change the shape and significance of the universe, helps to extend everyone’s knowledge of himself and the world around him.'' —Dylan Thomas By Gideon Cecil We are living in an unpoetic age; poetry for many people in Guyana and globally is of very little significance...

I used to be politer, but more boring, my friends say. They could take me anywhere. My conversation wasn’t overbearing. My actions seemed as if I didn’t care more than was apt. Now I appear half-crazy, they tell me, and act drunk before I drink. I babble, slur my sentences,...

  At last, some time to catch my breath – a rest, a respite in the fight – How many times I parried death! Bask now in this fast-fading light. ___Behold the whispering golden sea ___so wide – see it inside of me. The day’s end finds this carcass sore...

From the White Cloud Poetry Society. Translation by Jennifer Zeng, rendition in formal verse by Damian Robin   With all the trees in shrouds of falling snow, We move towards the moment of Time's birth. My thoughts leap forward with great strength and flow Within the massive gap of heaven...